#and yeah that causes a lot of problems but like

[figthoughts]

How do you think SB and Dean would react to reader safewording? I have some sort of idea for Dean, but with SB? Very mixed tbh

omg i have many thoughts !! allow me to ramble thank u ! (soldier boy’s part is a little ehhhh, just read with caution if ur sensitive to dubcon type scenarios!) 18+ ୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ

— dean winchester ˚｡⋆��୧˚

dean loves sex. he’s made that abundantly clear throughout your relationship. anytime he can get his hands on you, he will. and so naturally, you’ve spent time learning each other’s bodies, kinks, likes ‘n dislikes and everything in between. you’re entirely comfortable together.

so one day when you suddenly blurt out your safe word, dean pauses, his eyes flickering up to meet yours — to check in with you.

“baby, you okay? you wanna stop?” his words are gentle and full of love, concern splashed across his features.

his face softens while he nods along to your quiet explanation, pulling out/away from whatever he’d been doing to you. he settles down beside you, watching you as if you’re about to shatter into a million pieces.

“s’okay, sweetheart. we can stop. you don’t need an excuse. if you’re not feeling up to it, it’s not a big deal. we can just cuddle if you want,” he shrugs with a reassuring expression on his face, “you look like you need a hug, yeah? c’mere.”

dean opens his arms for you, letting you crawl against his chest. he nuzzles his chin into the top of your head, holding you snug against him, his hand rubbing down your back in a soothing motion.

“thank you for letting me know, baby,” he murmurs against your hair, leaving a soft kiss. he’s just happy you feel safe enough to ask him to stop whenever you need.

— soldier boy [ben] ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

i can’t decide between two ideas, so i’m giving you both !!

ben—your ben—the world’s strongest man who, simultaneously, is the world’s softest man the second he’s got his sweet little lady between his sheets.

there’s no denying he fucks like a pornstar on speed. it’s sometimes frightening how long he can keep at it — fucking you until you’re spent and boneless, blissed out and overstimulated from your umpteenth orgasm. he loves when you’re unable to form words, just soft incoherent babbles that force a grin to spread across his face as he plows into you with a superhuman force.

he loves going over the top to please you. and so it’s no surprise when you mumble out your safe word through warm salty tears, tired and unable to take any more of what he’s giving you. he slows down, meeting your gaze with his own. “what’s the matter? had enough, my pretty lady?”

ben knows sex with him can be a lot, and considering you’re just a sweet little doll, he knows it’s up to you to call it when you’ve had enough — cause if it were up to ben, you’d never leave his damn bed.

your mumbled pleas earn a nod in return from ben, “alright, babygirl. s’not a problem. here—” he pulls himself away from you, “i’ll run you a bath, yeah?”

you watch him get up and start heading to the bathroom, but not before he turns around, throwing you a cheeky wink, “i think that might’ve been a new record for ya, doll.”

alternatively… ✧ ˚ 　· 　　 .

ben’s rough. he’s rough around the edges. you know it. he knows it. everyone he’s ever met knows it. but he doesn’t just look rough or talk rough — he fucks rough.

you’re no stranger to the supe and how he bends you in half, like he’s unafraid of breaking you with his strength and brute force. for the most part, you take it like a good little thing, letting him break you down into nothing, but a whimpering little mess below him. and he loves it, ruining women while he doesn’t even break a sweat.

so when he mentions going a little further—adding a few new things to your nightly affairs—you agree, but only with the clear understanding that you get a safe word.

and ben agrees. i mean, anything to get his babydoll back into his bed, right?

so when he’s got you in half, your limbs flailing around in the air, pleading for him to stop, he simply doesn’t. he knows you know your safe word, and he hasn’t heard it leave your sweet little mouth yet. so he continues on, tiring out your sore body beyond belief — he’s really getting his kicks from seeing you all fucked out and begging like your life depends on it.

“look at you, damn slut. you like this, don’t you?” he grunts out, watching you sob and try to free yourself from his restraints. your eyes are filled to the brim with tears, your emotions clear on your face. he loves that you’re taking it for him — being a good ol’ little thing for him.

so it’s much to his surprise when you sob out your safe word. he’s a little bewildered to say the least. his brows pinch together, but he doesn’t slow down, not one bit.

his thrusts get harder, his eyes locked on your pleading little face. “just give me a damn minute. i’m close,” he mutters, his breath a little laboured, as if seeing you like this is the driving factor pushing him to the edge.

it doesn’t take long for him to finish, and when he does, he’s panting with the stupidest grin on his face. he slumps down on top of you, invading your space, “jesus, that was fuckin’ something, hey? you liked that, my sweet little thing?”

all you can do is sniffle and try to catch your breath while his weight crushes you. he presses a kiss to your cheek and he hears your breath hitch. and he knows he’s got you exactly where he wants — in the palm of his fucking hand.

A/N: this was soooo fun to type up !!! i love scenario requests sm (feel free to send me more) !!!!!! also first time writing something a lil darker w the dubcon part !!! what do we thinkkkkk? <3

feedback and reblogs are appreciated! thank uuu!

✩ taglist cause why not: @chevroletdean @fitxgrld @jasvtsc @bluestrd @1-imbroglio @titsout4jackles @faithfulsofi @tortureddarkstar @abellmunsonmovie @legalmente-loca @theoneandonlystonedspiderman420 @manicjk @aileenunfiltered @minettacreekk @jackleslvr @winchester-whiskey @emeraldcrs @freyabear @floralscented @cosmopolitan-thedrink @jwritestuff @suhnisideup @spookyysinsanity @kimxwinchester @bleuatlas @deansbbyx @angelicjackles @deansbeer @artemys-ackles @bluemerakis @misatxox @star-yawnznn @ambiguous-avery @sl33pylilbunny @k-slla @deanswidow @psychicnatural @ghostlyaccurate

↑ comment to be added!

[heylittleriotact]

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: the majority of death care professionals I’ve worked with have some sort of fucked up mortician-origin-story and got into funerals in the first place to either try and demystify death or cope with their trauma by constantly exposing themselves to it, and that’s literally what Emmrich has done his entire life and it’s why I love him so much.

Under the cut for some pretty raw death talk, including infant death, because fuck it - there’s a reason this pixel man lives rent free in my head and I’m about to get personal.

My Mom very unexpectedly and traumatically lost a full term pregnancy when I was 7. The first corpse I ever saw or touched was my dead sister. The first baby I held in my arms was dead.

What the fuck do you mean she’s dead? Why is she dead? She’s a baby. Babies don’t die. Old people die. Bad guys in movies die. Babies don’t.

And then from there it was like… months of infuriating and condescending bullshit from well-meaning people just wanting to reconcile with something that can’t really be reconciled with: people said a lot of stuff to me like, “it was God’s plan” or, “it wasn’t meant to be” or, “at least she didn’t suffer” or “God needed her more” and loads of other trite bullshit in the same vein, and it really, really fucked with me as a child.

I watched it destroy my already unstable mother and cause her to take out her complicated grief on me - her abusive tendencies sharply escalated after the loss. I think she resented me. I think she resented seeing how much the loss hurt me and felt that I had no right to be as upset as I was. I think she didn’t know how to support a grieving child when she didn’t even have the tools to support herself.

I felt so isolated and confused. I became obsessed with death and heaven and angels and the idea of a soul, and as I got older, I couldn’t let go of the belief that no child - or person for that matter - should have to go through what I did.

So I became a funeral director. Because if I could help one child in a horrific situation feel seen and validated, then I’d made a difference. If I could help one despondent mother towards the right resources, or even just fucking make her feel seen and validated too, maybe she’d wind up in a better place than mine did.

I wanted to say fuck you to death. I wanted to prove my defiance by helping the living people left behind pick up the pieces. I wanted to learn to handle the unavoidable, permanent, unfeeling existence of death with the cautious reverence that one would employ when handling a venomous snake. And I did. I helped a lot of people and it fed my soul in insurmountable ways.

I became that weird death obsessed friend who couldn’t talk about anything EXCEPT funerals and death and souls and embalming and what happens to your body when you die. If you had a curious question about death or funerals? I would jump on the chance to answer it for you. Needed help with the loss of a loved one? I’ve gotchu. I became The Death Guy (I guess I still kind of am - I’m still happy to front questions and help friends and family navigate death and funerals because the knowledge is all still there.)

Eventually it became a great way for me to bury other traumas that happened to me (an abusive childhood, sexual assault and all sorts of abuse at the hands of a partner) and just not really deal with them because I couldn’t: I didn’t have time to deal with my own shit because other people needed help more than me. After all, they were dealing with a death. My own problems were small in comparison, right?

It all caught up with me after living and working through the nightmare that was COVID, and I burnt out super hard, had a small breakdown, hit the sauce super hard for awhile, and developed a lovely anxiety disorder and full blown insomnia. Counselling and a career change have helped immensely, but yeah…

I obsess over this old man as much as I do because I see a lot of my own shit and insecurities and fears and unhealthy coping mechanisms in him, and I just want everything to be okay for him, because it ended up being okay for me. It just took a lot of fucking work to get there.

To be gifted a character as complex and real as Emmrich is some once in a lifetime shit, and I’m so glad he exists. Get his ass to therapy.

I'm glad we agree that Emmrich has an absolutely unconscionable amount of rizz. However, I also have a great appreciation for his proficiency at the great honored pastime of Being A Fucking Weirdo. My man goes to work at the Death Factory every single day and copes with his deep deep fear of dying by?? Cosplaying a skeleton? Taash was NOT WRONG when they called him the corpse guy. Even amongst other necromancers, he is THEE corpse guy! His best friend is a skeleton and he hasn't left the Cemetary Where He Lives for years. He is 90% ookie spooks and 10% bisexual disaster man. The only reason he's so suave and smooth is because the ookie spooks are actually load-bearing and manage to utterly obscure what a nervous wreck he is at all times of day. It's hard to give into the existential dread when you're spending all of your time saying shit like, "The tapestry of the Fade holds many threads."

I just know that this man is holding back the mother of all existential crises. He all but has it after he yoinks Rook out of the Fade but he bottles it back up so quick you KNOW that wasn't the whole thing. You KNOW that Rook is going to wake up in the middle of the night six months after Elgar'nan bites it and there Emmrich will be, lich or not, staring blankly at the ceiling and saying, "Darling, what does it all mean?" Emmrich Volkarin is a sexy, sexy man who needs therapy and some sleep and maybe an extended sabbatical from Dead People University.

[blueishspace]

Hero, Villain God 47

(Prev) (Next) (First)

*Grian's pov*

You run back to your apartment, you do not appreciate having to do this at all. You had a whole thing pre-planned and they ruined it for you!

Creating an outfit is not the hard part, you can do that pretty easily with the snap of a finger but no matter how oblivuous Scar might be he's still definitely going to question it were you to arrive with an outfit that looks professionally made. You don't think you could justify it without being called out...

...So of course you have to also make it look homemade, like it was made with stuff you had around the apartment in half an hour, what an un-cute start to your sidekick career.

You settle on a pink and blue hoodie and a mask, not the best outfit but you did what you had to to make it look legit... On theme but not outlandish enough to be questioned. And if it is questioned... you'll deal with that later when it becomes a problem.

...And with that you are just in time to pick Hotguy up and make it to Las Nevadas before the commotion ends.

"Cuteguy? Is that?"

"Yep, not my ...first choice but it will have to do... So how do I look?"

"You look like a vigilante when, dressed like that"

"That's hardly my fault Hotguy."

"... Yeah, I know"

...

"You didn't answer, how do I look?"

"Great! I mean, not that you usually look not great, you always look good! But it fits you really well- it looks cool I mean hot I mean...good???"

"Are you.. ok?"

"....I'm... I'm just really tired."

... You can relate with that, a lot has happened in the span of a few hours... especially for you.

"Yep"

"... Sooo, are you ready for your debut?"

"Unfortunately"

"Oh C'mon It's going to be... great?"

He can't even manage to sound like he believes it, zero out of ten encouragement here...one out if ten, at least he's trying.

"So...uh...let's go!"

And he just books it! You are having deja-vu to when Flame did this exact same thing when you met him the first time. What's with super powered people and running away randomly?

"I see how it is Hotguy!"

And you spread your wings and fly to him.

As you approach Las Nevadas you hear the sound of sirens, you forgot about those. In hindsight you really should have thought of the attention a group of notorious villains fighting a group of vigilantes in front of a major casino and hotel would garner, oh well.

You look towards Scar, he is... slightly upset, clearly this is bigger then he expected...you wonder just how little the hero association actually knew and how little of that they actually told him. Considering past presedent you don't have very high hopes.

You kinda wish he would just stop being nice, go a bit apeshit even, for once and tear into them...is that how you use the phrase? You heard Martyn say it during the movie marathon and it definitely fits your opinion on the matter...either way, you really wish he would do something like that even though it probably would cause problems it would also be very satisfying to watch...like Legally Blonde! Nice reference, you learned so much today, you are so proud of yourself.

You land down near the chaos, on top of one of the nearby building, Quackity is gone because he must have chosen to be smart about it and left in the confusion... Flame is currently fighting Xonorth, Worm man is dealing with the Doctor, Seraphin with Mot and you are fighting with you...This is going to get confusing real soon.

You hear Hotguy sighs from your left, you turn towards him, his expression is even more unconfortable then it was earlier.

"This isn't..."

"Well, what now Hotguy?"

"I don't... The association sent us after the vigilantes ..."

You can sense the doubt in bis tone, is he having second thoughts.

"But?"

"I don't think we should target them, we should get the villains...?"

"Uh?"

You turn fully to him.

"T-that makes more sense right? Villains...villains are worse then vigilantes so...they should be the one we get??"

"Makes sense to me?"

"So..."

"So we are working with vigilantes? Even though that's the opposite of what the hero association said?"

"..."

He's silent for a few moments, before you can try to spur him on he steps foward.

"I think so... Just this once."

"Sounds good to me, I'm right behind you."

He turns towards you and smiles, then he jumps into the fray and you follow suit immediately after.

It's a bit much controlling three bodies at once but you think you manage it pretty well! Mother Spore dodges a swipe to the left, Poultryman trows an egg at a guy on the right, Cuteguy slashes a tendril in half... All in all you would say you are doing pretty well.

Chaos is your domain and this almost all vs all is refreshing and sweet and invigorating! Still It's different from how you normally view your domain, usually It's more detached, more uninteresting...but being in the middle of it? Extremely confusing and doubly as entertaining. You get lost in the confusion in the best possible way.

Cuteguy jumps on Mot and Mother Spore summon a mushroom wall around herself and Poultryman uses his wings to deck Paroh. You jump from side to side, fly and swipe and dash and at one point you even do a backflip from no reason other then because It sounded fun and you had no reason not do it...

After a while all the fighting does start to meld together as you get more lost in it, to be fair It's been a while since you have been able to do something like this so you end up being very intense about it-

...

And then you hear a strangled cry and everything goes quiet. You turn. All three of you turn towards the noise, the world itself almost wraps in vortex as you hear a scream of someone very familiar.

You turn and you see a tendril, one of Xonorth's... It's passing right trough Scar's heart, you can see his suit darken around the point in which the tendril makes contact with flesh, you look as crimson blood begins to coat the appendage. You turn and for a second it is silence...And then everything stops.

*End of Chapter 9*

[marlynnofmany]

Cave Space

The mechanic’s shop was the loudest and dirtiest place I’d seen on this space station so far, and somehow that was comforting. All the ritzy retail stores and elaborate restaurants tried to look as fancy as possible, even the cheap ones. But this place felt honest and straightforward. It had bare concrete floors and the kind of shelf displays that didn’t bother with signs to actually explain what you were looking at. A real mechanic would know.

I had no idea, but I was just here to help haul things. Blip and Blop might have been a better choice if the things in question proved to be heavy, but they were off wrangling jumbo tubs of food and medical supplies with Eggskin, and anyways we had the big hoversled this time. It would probably be fine.

Mimi was talking fast with an employee about manifolds and vents and lots of other words, waving a couple green tentacles while he stood on the rest. The employee was the biggest Heatseeker I could remember seeing, which was still only mid-rib-height on me. He reminded me of the short gym guys from back home, able to build muscle in every direction but up.

A box thumped onto a counter near me. “You here to help lift and pull?”

I found an older human woman grinning at me, wearing a tank top covered in grease and long white hair held back in a ponytail. Also the kind of arm muscle that said she yanked engines out of spaceships for fun.

“Something like that,” I said with a smile. “Gotta make sure nothing falls off the sled.”

She waved a hand. “Ah, we’ll strap it down for you. There’s enough ramps around here to cause problems if we don’t.”

“I bet,” I said, thinking back to the last time I’d chased something important down a hill. “Don’t want to risk any explosions or chemical spills.”

“Or slamming a gear shaft into the side of a building,” she agreed. “There was a bit of a mess the last time someone was sure they didn’t need their stuff tied down.”

I winced. “Ouch.”

“Yeah, it’s standard procedure now,” she said, opening the box to pull out multiple smaller boxes, all labeled with arcane terminology and numbers. They rattled as she stocked them on the shelf under the counter. “If they’d asked me, it would have been standard from the start, but what do I know? I’ve only been doing this kind of work for decades, on more planets than I care to count.”

“Sounds exciting,” I said as she finished stocking. “I haven’t been out here all that long by comparison, but there’s always something new to see.” A glance around the shop took in rows of alien technology, a Heatseeker with scales painted silver, and one of those centipede-like people whose species name I didn’t remember. I was pretty sure they were looking at a jetpack display.

“Oh sure, plenty of weirdos out here,” the woman said easily, ripping tape off the box and flattening it. “Though it’s easy to tip over from marveling at the wonders to feeling the kind of intense homesickness that you get when you’re light years away from home.”

“I suppose so.” I’d been pretty lucky on that front, since my alien coworkers were friendly sorts who made me feel welcome. But there were times when the sheer amount of empty space between me and Earth was a little too much to think about.

“You’ve got to find ways to remind yourself of where you come from, and take pride in it,” the older woman said with a pointed finger, like a grandparent giving career advice. “Recreate bits of home while you’re far from it.”

I thought back to the potted plants and sun lamp in my quarters, kept high enough that the cat couldn’t chew on them. “I like to think I do that,” I said. “Do you have a preferred method? Classic Earth songs, googly eyes stuck in funny places?”

She barked a laugh. “Ha! Nothing I’d admit to. But I’ll show you my current favorite touchstone to humanity.” She dug in a pocket.

I stepped closer, curious, as she pulled out something palm-sized. She rested her elbows on the counter and held it up, framed by splayed fingers with appropriate drama.

It was a rock, smooth and shiny like it had been polished by a river and then by a thick layer of varnish, and it was covered in minuscule handprints. All in earthtones, like a cave painting reduced to pocket size: some in silhouettes like tiny hands had pressed mud or ash against the cave wall, and others shadowed by color like the prehistoric artist had chewed charcoal and spat it carefully around their fingers.

(I’d done that in school one day, with one of the cool teachers, who taught us the basics of humanity’s oldest style of airbrushing. It was incredibly messy and trickier than I’d expected. It gave me renewed respect for the artists from eons ago whose artwork had survived into modern times.)

And this was that same thing, made small enough to carry around the galaxy, a tiny reminder of home. “That’s fantastic,” I breathed.

“Isn’t it?” she asked, rubbing at the shine. “I got it from a traveling artist awhile back. If I was in a different line of work, I’d sell clothes with this pattern on them. It’s the kind of thing that makes other Earthlings smile.” She stood up and put it back in her pocket with a wink. “Not like googly eyes, but still good.”

“Yes, still good!” I agreed, smiling. I would have liked to talk more about it, maybe find out where that traveling artist had gone, but Mimi was wrapping up his conversation. A door opened to admit a trio of Heatseekers carrying a huge cylinder that was probably destined for somewhere in the guts of our ship.

“I’ll get the tie-down straps,” said the woman, rummaging under a different section of counter.

“Thanks,” I said, though I don’t think she heard me. The air was full of talk and the sound of clawed feet on concrete. I hurried to take up a position by the controls of the hoversled, making sure it stayed locked in place.

The team worked quickly, and in no time they had it strapped down well enough that it wouldn’t budge even if the gravity cut out completely. (Which had better not happen; I’d had more than enough of that kind of nonsense at the last station.)

Mimi processed the payment, tapping a screen with one tentacle tip and thanking the employees for having this whatsit in stock. I got the impression that it wasn’t the one he’d actually come to get, but it was better in some way or other.

“Thanks again!” I said as we tugged the sled toward the door. I waved at the other human and she waved back, two hands signaling kinship briefly across the room. Then she took her flattened box into the back and I stepped out into the artificial sunlight, looking for signs leading back to the spaceport.

The gravity behaved, and the ramps were no trouble. Blip and Blop were there to help unload the thing. I asked Mimi if he wanted three people to maneuver it into wherever it went, or if I should go put the hoversled away.

He was busy climbing inside of the cylinder with a flashlight, for whatever reason. “Nah, not enough space for everybody,” his gravelly voice echoed. “Let me just — really? Another one?” A faint squeak sounded like he was rubbing a tentacle against the side.

“What is it?” I asked, bending to look inside. Blip and Blop crowded behind me, a jumble of curious muscles and silks.

Mimi grumbled, “This is the third engine part that I’ve gotten with these annoying marks. All from different sources, too. If I ever find out which finger-having species is doing it, we are going to have words.”

Deep inside the cylinder, in a spot that likely would never have been seen by anyone but an agile mechanic, was a patch of handprints. Mimi had already smeared the ones made in grease, but the others looked like they might have been paint. All in earthtones. A cave painting in the depths of a spaceship.

Blip and Blop chorused, “Not it.”

I bit my lip to hide a smile. “It’s a mystery.”

~~~

Inspired by this excellent artwork by @letmeinimafairy! It deserved at least one story, if not several.

~~~

These are the ongoing backstory adventures of the main character from this book.

Shared early on Patreon! There’s even a free tier to get them on the same day as the rest of the world.

The sequel novel is in progress (and will include characters from these stories. I hadn’t thought all of them up when I wrote the first book, but they’re too much fun to leave out of the second).

[marzipanandminutiae]

Oh you don’t have my favorite social history architecture myth! Someone (in a class on Elizabeth Gaskell’s work and its relationship to Victorian domestic culture and handcrafts I was taking where I was one of maybe 2 people who study history at all let alone fashion history specifically and everyone else was a lit or art major) very confidently stated that doorknobs in Victorian times™️ were lower because women’s sleeves were so restrictively cut that they could not raise their arms. When I said this wasn’t true, they got super defensive and insisted that it was because they “heard it at a museum”. I think about this every time I open or close a door in an old house or sew sleeves into a garment

Ye. Gods.

I mean like yeah there were Victorian garments with restrictive cuts because of fashionable shoulder shapes and such...but there are restrictive modern garments, too. And not all women wore those then, just like many don't nowadays. It wouldn't make sense to build one's house based on fleeting fashion trends, any more than the canard about wide doorframes for wide skirts.

On top of that- women had to live their lives. If an outfit couldn't even enable you to raise your arms enough to turn a doorknob, why would that many people wear it on an everyday basis? The more sleeve-restrictive Victorian patterns I've tried cause problems reaching high shelves, not opening doors.

And finally, modern doorknobs mostly aren't that much higher? I'm looking at three Victorian doorknobs and a modern doorknob right now in my living room, and the older ones are lower by a few inches if that. Honestly I'm surprised anyone even noticed- they usually don't at the museum where I work.

Just because you heard it in a museum, doesn't mean it's true. It should be! And it probably wasn't repeated with the intent to spread misinformation! But there are a lot of "old guides' tales" floating around that people have just never thought to question- if it sounds too simple and easy an explanation, do your own research when you get home. Just don't trust unsourced blog posts on the matter either.

(I read one bit of anecdotal evidence where someone asked the original owner's daughter why the doorknobs in their house were REALLY low, and she said it was so the kids could reach them as well as the adults. I doubt that's true across the board- like I said, most Victorian doorknobs I've encountered aren't that low -but it's an explanation for one specific case.)

[generalpalacefishgoop]

Landduo convo I found interesting today

Foolish: I can read you like a book from front to cover and back again.

Pili: Woah woah how long have you guys known each other then?

Foolish: Golly what?

Bad: It's been a long time. Foolish: Too long.

Bad: Too long

Pili: That's probably why

Bad: Too longs don't make a right

(…)

Pili: Is it really that bad that I'm killing someone that come back to life? If he allows me to? Because I don't think your morals are the same as his morals & my morals, and the same with standards too, it's different. You wouldn't understand it.

(…)

Foolish: Actually Pili, there's another problem I've come to realize. I think right now you're too buddied up with this guy right here.

Pili: Well, technically I do spend a lot of time with Bad because I spend a lot of time with Pangi, but that's another conversation.

Foolish: Oh, so you wish Bad wasn't there. It's more of just like-

Pili: I mean, I…sometimes want to be alone with Pangi

Ros: Bad, that's so sad. I'm so sorry to hear this.

Bad: Wait what? That's crazy. I thought I had at least 1 friend in this realm.

Ros: Don't worry, we're friends, Bad.

Foolish: Maybe if you just didn't accidentally kill half of them, you'll have some more.

Bad: Maybe I just haven't killed enough.

Foolish: No. What?

Bad: Huh?

(…)

Bad: Foolish, what was that you were saying, you hated the most about your kingdom the other day?

Foolish: What?

Bad: The other day you were saying how some of your kingdom members were getting on your nerves?

Foolish: Oh, is this is really what you're gonna do?

Ros: Huh? Really? Is this true?

Foolish: No! This is like one of his favorite tricks in the book is like to pull a random stunt like, oh, remember that time the other day you were talking about like you didn't like Ros or something like that is what he does. Cuz he has nothing of substance.

Pili: He just like, you just know him so well, Foolish. I think out of everyone in the realm, you know him the best.

Foolish: Yeah, sadly. Bad: That's true

Bad: Ros, you were saying something the other day to Pili. Your feelings got hurt.

Pili: Do you remember what that was? When you asked me out on a date?

(…)

Bad: So, that's how little Ros thinks of Pili that you just want to say the whole conversation yesterday didn't happen. Ok, I didn't know you felt about Pili that way, that you hated him that much.

Ros: Woah. No no no. No no no.

(…)

Ros: No, it's fine, you know? If you join the Kingdom, I'll be very disappointed, but it's ok. I'll see you later.

(…)

Foolish: Friendship really blossomed in this kitchen table.

Bad: I feel like we're making a lot of progress here. That was a great episode.

(…)

Bad: I think you should kill Ros.

Foolish: Bad! Look what you did. Look what you did.

Bad: What?!

Foolish: Look what you did. Don't act like you're not smiling ear to ear, ok? You did that one little comment and you're like, oh, remember that one time? (…) This is you, pal.

Bad: I just want to see them work out their differences.

Foolish: No, the only thing you wanted was to see differences blossom. That's all you do. That's all you do, ok! You're just a little virus! You're a little virus that follows me from server to server to server!

Bad: What?! That's crazy!

Pili: Are you like a stalker, BadBoyHalo?

Foolish: Lowkey.

Bad: This guy's the stalker. Everywhere I look, he's right behind me. (…) I always feel like no matter where I look, like I look over here and I can still see those green beady eyes looking at me. I can still feel it everywhere. I don't know why.

Pili: Guys, I'm gonna go apologize to Ros cause I actually am not a bad person.

Bad: Apologize with violence.

Foolish: Can you not, for once.

VOD: Bad POV https://www.twitch.tv/videos/2344473749 1:43:14

Foolish POV https://www.twitch.tv/videos/2344266835 5:40:04

[beef-brisket]

The next day, Lucifer sat while Adam got his portrait painted. He looked over him, sensing tension.

Lucifer: What's wrong, Ad?

Adam sighed: I just... I'm causing problems again, aren't I-?

Imp: Yes. Stay still.

Adam glared and sighed, trying to stay still as he talked.

Adam: With Charlie, I mean.

Lucifer smiled: Oh, I don't think so.

Adam: Fine. With Vaggie.

Lucifer: Well... Maggie is a whole different thing entirely. And I know you could defend yourself if you had to.

Adam smiled: Obviously. I trained the bitch!

Imp: Hm. Did you train her NOT to move?

Adam glared: No, but I can trian you to stop fucking talking if you're lucky.

Lucifer: Everyone, please. No death threats.

Imp: Of course, sir.

Adam scoffed: Pussy.

Lucifer: Adam.

Adam: What? He is!

Lucifer: Back to the situation at hand. I don't expect Charlie or Maggie to be happy, but... this is my life. And I'm enjoying having you in it.

Adam smiled: Duh. I'm fucking awesome... and I like being in it... your life, I mean.

Lucifer: Good. Because I plan on you staying here for the long run.

Adam tried not to blush, but he was failing: I uh... probably have a lot of apologizing to do, huh? Which is fucking rare. I'm never wrong. But chocking someone may have been... you know.

Lucifer shrugged: Too far. Especially because she's my daughter.

Adam rolled his eyes: Yeah, yeah. I know. You don't need to rub it in.

Lucifer: Rub what in?

Adam: ...Nothing, just... missing Abel, that's all.

Lucifer: We could set a meeting up-.

Adam: No, no... he shouldn't see me. He should hate me... and I'd understand if he does. It was my own fault. But fuck... I'm actually fucking... safer down here. Then up there... how does that fucking work?

Lucifer sighs: I don't know... their fake. And wrong. And in some ways, morr prideful than me.

Adam laughed: Damn right.

The Sin of Adam!au.

One more quick au before I fall asleep.

Adam falls to Hell after his death. But he doesn't wake up in Pride. He wakes up in Wrath. Adam is completely pissed off and just itching for revenge.

In this, Adam conquers each ring of Hell, growling stronger until he's on the same wavelength as Lucifer, power wise.

Lucifer has no idea what's going on. He's slowly losing contact with the Sins, and everyone is in a state of panic. That's until he returns home from a few days away, trying to find the Sins, that he sees his daughters hotel, and Pentagram city destroyed.

Thankfully, Charlie and her friends are fine. But what she explains is unbelievable.

Charlie: It was Adam, dad!

Lucifer: Adam? He's dead Charlie- I buried him myself.

Charlie: I thought so, too! He was looking for you! He's alive!

Lucifer gets his daughter to hide. Everything is in a state of chaos. He can't find Adam anywhere.

Until he returns home and sees someone sitting on his throne.

After a long, destructive fight, Lucifer realizes that Adam only absorbed the Sins. Their not dead

Adam has literally been taken over by the powers of Hell.

Can Lucifer contain and find a way to get Adam and the Sins back before he destroys Hell and everything undead thing in it??

How will Lucifer get Adam back??

Who knows 🤷

Adam: You can't defeat me now Lucifer!

Lucifer: Oh yes I can! I'm going to fuck the sins out of you!!

Adam: Wait what?

Ozzie inside: YEAH BABY!!

Sorry I'm feeling a little silly lmao 😂

[smallhatlogan]

a lot of the first draft writing advice is like "how to not waste a lot of time on stuff you'll delete or drastically change" but you know, maybe I want to "waste" time. Maybe I can really polish up chapters and add a lot of details that I contradict or completely fuck up later on because it's easier for me to care about what I'm writing when I'm actually thinking really hard about it

[bmpmp3]

finding out ur coworker is way older than you thought and having to very quickly reorient how you talk to them

[bidokja]

one thing i think is funny (in both a serious and unserious way) about the orv webtoon is that it places even more emphasis on yjh thinking 'ugh! kms' at even the sLIGHTEST INCONVENIENCE. LIKE...tiny itty bitty hiccup in his plans? the ever so slight-est swerve on the road? he says FUCK this shit and tries to dRIVE OFF THE CLIFF!!!1! like, babygirl WHAT!!! what are you even doing!!!

[hyperfixationcritter]

Thanks for the addition! The responses to this post so far have been so sweet 🥹💖

You're on the money with how Sky had more realistic goals that came from a place of really understanding Zaun's needs vs Viktor's actions that didn't line up with his intentions. They really did make Sky a better Zaunite than Viktor.

And like, some of that is bad writing and I have conflicting feelings about where I would've liked to see Viktor's character arc go because I don't think it's good writing for a character to have no flaws. At the same time, I'm so tired of stories like these that miss the mark on talking about oppression and poorly write those who experience it. Even during s1 (though I still overall like it/find it rewatchable) I wanted to see better writing for Viktor in this context because some things just didn't feel like they made sense based on how his character was established.

That being said, one of the ways they could've gone about it was to build on that difference in Sky and Viktor's approaches to the Undercity's problems and how that could've caused tension between the two of them. Maybe Sky, despite of, but also because of her admiration of Viktor, calls him out on his bullshit and how, despite his complaints to Jayce, he could be doing a whole LOT more.

I've written about this before but I feel like it would've been better to have the security guard that almost caught him and Jayce sneaking into Heimderinger's lab be the one to get vaporized by the hexcore if someone had to die. Maybe Sky still walks in on it and that's when that conversation happens or continues to happen and Viktor's like "yeah you're totally right" and they reevaluate what they want to do from there. That could somewhat parallel Jayce's whole "you're right, you're always right" moment with Mel tbh.

Maybe Viktor asks Sky to be the one to destroy the hexcore or both her and Jayce (but only Sky knows the full context around why he wants them to do it). Viktor was worried about not just dying, but not leaving anything behind for the Undercity and I think it'd be really sweet to show him respect and trust in Sky's skills and projects to carry on that shared dream.

Of course the council attack still happens and they'd eventually decide to go back to Zaun as a team. I'm very interested in what Sky's reaction to the attack and what her role in s2 act 1 could've been like if she was around for it.

I will forever bang my pots and pans about how they should've been science buddies 😤 They had so much potential individually and as a duo but both were done dirty by the writing, especially Sky.

Thinking again about Sky and Viktor's wasted potential cuz they could've done SOMETHING with associating the botanical with Sky and the mechanical with Viktor; how they can potentially clash but also work together as well as their similarities despite one being natural and the other artificial (circuitry/wires vs root systems and what not).

Like in s1, I was kinda skeptical about the direction they had Viktor and Jayce going with Hextech with their new inventions for Progress Day. Like others have pointed out before, there could've/should've been a lot more emphasis on environmental classism based on what was already set up and how different Zaunite characters combat that and Sky would've been a perfect candidate to do that with on Piltover's side. I'm also still mad about Ekko's tree mission going nowhere.

And like, it's one thing if they framed the Progress Day inventions as them being pushed to create tools for the mining industry (and how that industry is so integral to the class divide) to incentivize the initial funding for hextech in order to build the projects they actually wanted to but that wasn't the case. It was framed as something they did of their own volition and narratively done for the purpose of setting up for the league gear/weapons that Viktor and Vi use later on. And while I can see Jayce, as a person from a lower noble house whose money was built on making tools, thinking that's a good invention, I have mixed feelings about what would be in character for Viktor to think is actually helpful for the Undercity that balances how removed he is from it and the compromises that could arise from his place in Piltover vs his clearly established goals to help the Undercity.

Bringing environmental classism to the front and center of the story could've done wonders for Sky and Viktor and where their characters could've gone in s2 instead of making them "Fridged 2.0" and "OOC Eugenicist Cult Leader" who killed a chunk of the poor-disabled population through his hive mind.

While I personally would've liked to see Viktor, along with Sky, bring up projects related to civil engineering to improve the environmental conditions of the undercity and have more pushback on his part against certain things like the where the hex vault was built, it's fine to have him be blinded by his ambitions (and trying to not die, in part for the sake of his ambitions) from what's really important like they were trying to set up in s1. It would make him a flawed and nuanced character who has to learn from his mistakes. It would also tie into how Sky could've/should've become a prominent character through her own scientific contributions (and not post-humously from being fridged) which were canonically related to plants and the hexcore.

Like, to see the two of them go back to Zaun as equal partners, with Sky taking the lead, instead of being assistant to Viktor and Jayce (paralleling Viktor's own comment about not just wanting to be an assistant) and doing things to improve the environment with their combined skill set would've been awesome. Seeing them in sync together in s2 instead of unintentionally clashing in s1 would've been a cool parallel to have. Also have them team up with Ekko and Sevika :>

I'm having trouble wording my thoughts here but does anybody see the vision?????????

[whatwooshkai]

Gimme a number 5! :D

Chase's face is contorted in badly disguised panic as he stands there, finials practically brushing the lights on his back, waiting for instruction.

Charlie tries desperately not to laugh, coughing into his fist. "I am so sorry," he says, voice strained, as Mayor Luskey forces his way out of the car, fuming.

"BURNS!" he snarls, his toupee slightly askew, and he nearly trips over the grappler as he storms up to him. "WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS?!"

"So sorry," Charlie repeats, noticing that Chase has started nervously wringing his hands. "The police bot noticed your car was going above the speed limit and wasn't responding to the flashing lights, so he- uh, the AI, I mean- took the next logical step." He gestures at the scene. "Hence the grappler."

Chase had deployed it without asking, and Charlie hadn't even known what happened until the mayor's car had suddenly stopped and started swerving in front of them, caught in a trap of yellow nylon webbing.

"Well- well- fix it!" Mayor Luskey turns on his poor chauffeur and starts shouting again, and Charlie notices the slight sigh of relief from Chase as the attention is taken off them.

"Police bot," Charlie orders, biting back his smile, "fix this please."

"Yes sir," Chase says, sounding much less confident than usual.

-------------------------------

"I didn't even know you had a grappler," Charlie pipes up as they roll into the firehouse's driveway. "My last patrol car sure didn't."

"It was equipment I had back on Cybertron," Chase explains as the garage door closes behind them, then transforms when Charlie steps out. "I just haven't had a reason to use it until now."

"Well, uh, good to know," Charlie says, patting his hands on his hips. "Just maybe ask first next time?"

"Of course," Chase hums, and his finials flatten against his helm.

"So, do you have any other equipment you're holding out on me?" Charlie continues teasingly, and Chase's finials cant back.

"No," he answers, sounding almost disappointed. "A question better suited for Heatwave. I have not seen him use any of his arsenal."

"Really?" They step on the lift together. Normally Charlie would go back upstairs, but now he's curious. "What kinds of equipment?"

"I'd imagine it's similar." Chase taps his foot against the ground as the lift starts down. "He's got a kit hand."

"What's that?"

"Heatwave!" Chase addresses the fire bot instead, who's up on one of the pillars with the training dummy.

"What?" he calls back, leaning against it.

Chase gestures to Charlie. "He's curious about your equipment."

Heatwave frowns. "...What equipment?"

"Your firefighting equipment. You hand." Chase gestures abstractly.

"Oh." Heatwave jumps down and Chase offers his hand to Charlie, who climbs into it, and he's deposited onto Chase's shoulder for a better view. "Most of it's only accessible in my alt mode, but I got a few things."

He sticks his forearm out and a panel retracts. "Winch," he says, gesturing at it. "Got them on both sides. And my hand's kit." His left hand retracts back into his forearm, and he transforms tools out in rapid succession, including but not limited to a sledgehammer, an axe, a halligan, and a chainsaw. His hand's back in a few moments, and he offers Charlie a shrug. "I don't really have a need for them. I can usually brute force my way through any of the emergencies you guys have."

"True," Charlie hums, "but it's good to know. Thank you."

Heatwave blinks, then nods, turning away and going back to his dummy. Charlie looks to Chase. "Do the others have equipment like that, or, uh, 'kit' hands?"

Chase's finial flicks. "Why don't we go ask?" he says, voice colored with an excited lilt.

Charlie gets the distinct impression he's being included on something important, but he can't even begin to be sure of what. So he just smiles, pats Chase on the cheek, and lets him take him to the others.

[dykedvonte]

I like to think in the P.E au that Anya and Curly specifically get haunted hard by Jimmy's weird reality crossing guilt manifested.

It's targeting them because Jimmy's guilt grows more around them. The idea of him acting and playing nice despite what he did. It's like a buffet that allows it to pick from their plates.

Anya sees this stagnant version of her, blood from her mouth, clutching her stomach with a bottle of pills in her other hand. She's talking about not being heard, a pixel, relief from a burden. She tries to ask a question and it's never the right one. She's not understanding but in a way, she's getting that this version of her is in pain. She tries to help, extends a hand and asks how she can help, stop it. She stares and there's utter despair and disappointment in her eyes.

What did you do?

Curly sees this burnt mangled thing. But he can't call it that. Even with no skin and chipping teeth, covered in sullied bandages and smelling of death overdue, he can see his face. He can recognized that eye, he stares at it a lot in the mirror, usually a second one is attached but he digresses. They are just watching, staring and unmoving. He asks himself what happened, how can he help and his own retched mangled voice comes out from a empty maw.

I told you.

They have no idea what it really means. They don't know who to tell. Flashes of a life they don't know or maybe a future they haven't lived yet. Perhaps they treat it as their own minds trying to tell them something. They bare that burden themselves and that alone makes it heavier. Plumper. More appetizing to the guilt causing it.

Tragically that guilt is not their own.

[langernameohnebedeutung]

.

[ra-vio]

aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

[capricioussun]

Luck and Cue!! I love those guys!

I'll start with what they do! Cue handles the more professional stuff, and inner workings of the family, while Luck is more like an ambassador, checking in on local business they're "partnered" with, befriending even those they're not, doing his best to make Aster a name with predominantly positive association for most.

Honestly not too dissimilar to how the Mafiafell brothers' work dynamic functions, too, except Cue handles the more official publicity type of stuff, and Luck usually handles the, uh. "Sensitive matters".

As for their relationship, it's still pretty good, if maybe a bit more distant than classic US. They do still look out for each other, that loyalty is absolutely still there, but things are just...a little stilted between them. Almost not as close as brothers, sort of more like very good old friends, but not entirely. A little hard to explain, but they do know each other very well, even with the rift that'd grown after having the torch passed to them.

Luck is a bit of a brat and loves to do things for the sole purpose of annoying Cue, however he learned very early on Cue wouldn't bail him out if he really wanted to teach him a lesson and is careful about taking things "too far".

Cue, while caring deeply for his brother, feels like entertaining his more rebellious nature is just coddling or humoring him, and he doesn't want to encourage that, so he can be a bit hard on him, but whose to say that isn't deserved?

They tend to step on each others toes, and neither really wanted to live this kind of life and sort of had it forced on them unexpectedly, but they cope with that in entirely different ways. Though it's still significantly better for both than it'd be if either had to do it alone, that's for sure