#but goddamn even though I know they're not right for each other this fucking hurt man

[enderevynne]

DRAGON AGE: INQUISITION ➤ OC CAPS: Evynne Trevelyan

BLACKWALL YOU ASS

[pinkie-quinns]

rocker eddie/actor steve | exes to ???? (they're fucking but Steve doesn't have to be happy about it) | slightly nsfw | fame au p4

p1 p2 p3 p5 interlude p6

He sees Eddie again. He sees Eddie all the goddamn time.

Part of Steve wonders if Eddie’s like, drugged him or something. He feels all itchy when he’s not around him.

He likes sex, always has. But he’s never craved it like this. Never felt out of his body when he wasn’t being fucked into.

And sex has always been easy to find for him. Ridiculously easy with the fame. He could have literally anyone. Anyone.

He only wants Eddie.

It’s like his body is being rewritten, coded and encrypted. Your dick CAN get hard but only if your asshole ex is touching it.

He goes to work buzzed. Phantom of Eddie’s hands on his skin. It’s distracting.

Everyone else feels so dull in comparison. He picks up a guy at a club. He goes on a date with a co-star’s friend.

The only good thing about that one is Eddie fucks the ever-loving shit out of him when the pictures of her & Steve end up in People.

And yeah, it only makes the self loathing calcify in his kidney.

He’s letting this happen. He’s actively pursuing it. He can’t stop even though every 3am sneak-out makes him want to drive right off the Hollywood Hills.

He’s too old for this. He is. They barely even talk when they see each other. Steve keeps that way. If they’re doing this (and fuck him, they’re doing this), it can’t be more than sex. He deserves that much. He needs to have that much respect for himself.

He’s careful about it. Has to be after the Globes.

He doesn’t stay the night- ever. It’s not like Eddie’s famous enough that he’s gonna get papped leaving his place. Maybe if it was New York- but here? It’d be a waste of TMZ resources. Still, he’s careful.

It’s gotten to the point where he’s there more nights than not. Where he’s given up on trying to see other people. It’s gotta end. It’s gonna end. Eddie’s gonna leave on his tour & all the momentum will be gone and they’ll never see each other again & Steve will be grateful for it.

It comes faster than he’s expecting. Faster than he’s ready for.

Their rendezvous have drifted later and later into the night. Eddie caught up at rehearsals. Eddie dead-tired afterwards. And nights turn into just laying there, holding each other. It's dangerous.

Eddie’s leaving for Arizona the next morning. It’s their last night. He's been so exhausted lately. He should be focused on getting a good night’s sleep. But it's 2am and he’s kissing Steve like his life depends on it. Like he’s going off to war.

There’s something different in this, as it builds, as Eddie lays Steve down on his bed. As he caresses him.

It doesn’t feel like fucking. It’s not rough and desperate and mean the way it usually is. It’s sweet. Achingly sweet. It feels almost like… almost like…

He’s murmuring nothings as he kisses down Steve’s torso.

How beautiful Steve is. How lucky he is. How he wants them to stay right here forever. Wants them to never leave this room. And it’s– Eddie’s just caught in the moment.

Steve still feels all choked by it.

Then Eddie pushes into him and suddenly he’s 18 and he’s never done this before so they’re taking it slow and laughing and in awe of each other and Eddie’s talking him through it and he’s holding him tight.

The orgasm takes him by surprise. He cries out something he doesn't mean. That he can't mean.

Eddie doesn't hold him to it. He lights his cigarette when they’re done, just like always, even though Steve mumbles about lung cancer each time. He’s being casual. Cautiously casual.

“You should come to the New York show.”

“What?”

All that faux-distance is gone in a second.

His expression twists vulnerable. “Come to the show. Please. It’d, um. It would mean a lot.”

Steve scoffs, “That’s not what this is.”

“I know. Just um, figured. No harm in asking…” He trails off. Steve knows he’s hurting. He wears it so plain on his face.

Steve fights that awful urge to reach out, kiss him, comfort him. It’s not his job anymore.

“Don’t know if you remember, Munson, but I did the groupie thing for years. Didn’t exactly work out great for me.”

Eddie shuts his eyes tight, “Yup. Sorry. I know you did.”

They’re quiet for a long while. Eddie’s arm is around him, tracing patterns at his shoulder.

“Why New York?” Steve asks.

Eddie cringes. “I’m, um. Renting a place there right now. So, you know. Privacy. I, um, I might move after the tour’s over.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.” Eddie breathes, eyes blank, laugh cold, “Don’t you worry, Harrington. I’ll be out of your hair in no time.”

There’s something awful bubbling inside him. He says, “Sure, man.”

Eddie nods in agreement, puffs his way back into silence, “Needed a change of scenery.”

And it’s fine. They’re adults. They’re not anything to each other, anymore. It's not like they're together. Eddie can do whatever the hell he wants.

But Steve can’t shake the feeling that he’s running again. Can’t shake the feeling that he shouldn’t be.

[anonymous-dentist]

On April 25, Cellbit finds himself crashing onto a tropical island filled with the weirdest goddamn people he's ever met in his life.

(On one side of the glass is Cellbit. On the other is a man in a red hoodie who takes one look at Cellbit and winks before rushing to talk to the other trapped Brazilians.

For a moment, Cellbit swears there's a spark- a literal pink spark in the air directly between the two of them where they had locked eyes, and he swears that the man's eyes glitter the same pink just for a second.

But that's ridiculous. It's probably a concussion. Or something.)

On April 26, Cellbit wakes up to a heavy pain in his chest and back and a foreign weight to his limbs as he tries rolling over in bed. There's a pressure behind his eyes, all... all two of them.

Cellbit's eyelids twitch unhappily as a ray of incoming sunlight hits them from the window.

He hisses, and that's when he notices two very important things:

He doesn't have two eyes. He knows the familiar discomfort of keeping one's eyes closed when they're ready to open, and he can recognize the fact that this discomfort is multiplied by goddamn two. That makes... four eyes.

He isn't in his own bed. He went to sleep without a blanket or a pillow, just his hat and his jacket because, big surprise, spending most of the day in a cave didn't get him any luxuries besides a sore back and a definitely-not-dead child.

Cellbit opens his eyes, all four of them, and he's only a little surprised to see that he is not, in fact, in his own house.

"What?" he croaks.

He grimaces. Sore throat, almost like he'd been screaming in his sleep. Nothing he isn't used to, but it doesn't feel right in this body. In... whoever's body this is.

He pushes himself so that he's sitting up and against the wall. His chest pulls with every movement of his arms, muscles twinging in pain, and it almost reminds him of the War, almost. (He caused wounds like this, anyway. He didn't get hurt like this. He was too good.)

He looks down. Spider-Man boxer briefs. Naked chest, huge scar cut across the middle of it over his heart. Hairy legs, bruised arms and knuckles.

Vaguely, he thinks that he recognizes the house. Kinda. Sort of. Maybe? But he'd only seen the outside, and it would be crazy if his soulmate turned out to be that guy.

But, well. There's only one spider hybrid on the island that Cellbit knows about. Maybe there are more, but he's pretty sure that he met everyone yesterday. (He thinks; he was pretty distracted by the whole what the fuck I have a child now??? thing.)

Cellbit should be happy. And he kinda feels like it, in a distant way. But it's with a sense of numb fear that he grabs Roier's communicator off of the bedside table and opens a new message with... himself? His comm. That Roier has. Because he's in his body. At his house.

[iRoier whispers to Cellbit: I think we have a problem]

-

When Cellbit had finally officially turned 16 years old, Bad sat down in the middle of a warzone and told him that, one of these days, he might wake up in the body of one of his enemies.

"What?" Cellbit had grimaced, blood coating his face and crusting under his nails. "Why? Is that a new origin or something?"

Bad shook his head. "No, you goof. It's a soulmate thing. You know. Soulmates."

And that's when he realized that Cellbit's amnesia really was, in fact, amnesia. Of course he wouldn't have remembered his parents giving him the Soulmate Talk, Cellbit- at the time- didn't believe that he even had parents. ("I was born from blood, and to blood I shall return," he said when Bad tried asking, so Bad stopped bothering after a while.)

And so it fell to BadBoyHalo to give Cellbit the Soulmate Talk.

"When you turn 16, the universe assigns you a soulmate," Bad had explained. "And when you meet that soulmate, you'll both switch bodies with each other overnight. It'll only last 24 hours, though, so it should be fine if you meet your soulmate out here."

Cellbit had blinked, confused. "What? Ew, no."

Because, as romantic as the idea of soulmates sounds, Cellbit was a 16-year-old boy. Why would he give a shit about his soulmate when he could be thinking about, like, blood and violence and stuff.

By the time Cellbit was arrested, he had finally warmed up to the idea of having a soulmate if only because having someone assigned to him by the universe meant that there'd be someone on the outside willing to break him out of prison and help him get his revenge on all the fuckers who had dared try and mess with him while he was in there.

But then, after prison- after everything, Cellbit had realized that maybe he wasn't meant to have a soulmate, after all. Why would he? Why would the universe be so kind as to give him someone to care about who would actually love him back? Who would like him back?

Whoever his soulmate might've been, Cellbit had always hoped that they were dead. They'd be better off dead than stuck with a monster like him.

-

By the time Roier makes it to his own house, the sun is high in the sky and Cellbit has managed to find a a shirt and a pair of shorts to throw on on top of his underwear. (On top of Roier's underwear?)

Bobby is still asleep upstairs, Cellbit thinks. At least, he hasn't heard anything from him. Should he be worried?

But then Cellbit looks out the window and watches his body trip over itself on the dirt and faceplant, and, well, Bobby can wait.

Roier's body is... heavy as Cellbit pulls a pair of shoes on. It doesn't want to cooperate, but that can't be right, it's supposed to be natural. Or something. Cellbit thinks. Maybe.

So he doesn't actually know how soulmates work, but it's supposed to be natural, right? That's how he remembers Bad explaining it, but he also remembers Bad having as much emotional awareness as a rock.

Vaguely, he wonders if the problem isn't with the fact that it's Cellbit being in Roier's body but that it's because it's Roier's body and that this is just how it is for Roier all the time. But that's none of Cellbit's business.

(Yet.)

(Maybe.)

(Eventually?)

(Turn the detective brain off, fuck.)

Whatever!

Cellbit runs out the door and goes to help Roier up. He isn't hurt at all as Roier swears at him and grumbles and pushes himself up onto his knees.

"I'm fine," he insists. "See?"

He gestures towards himself with a sharp-toothed grin, eyes squinted shut, and, wow, it's weird for Cellbit to see himself smile. His body doesn't really... do that. It's unnatural. Kinda creepy, like looking into a fucked-up mirror.

Cellbit offers an awkward smile in response, and it hurts. Not his face, no, his soul. Well, not his soul, because that would be silly, but some weird little part inside his Everything stings and pulses with a dull, throbbing pain so sudden and harsh that his throat chokes up and tears threaten to well up in Cellbit's eyes.

With a shuddering breath, Cellbit drops his smile and his eyes. He looks at the ground, and he says, "Uh. We should talk inside, maybe?"

He doesn't wait for a response before turning on his heel and walking back into Roier's house. He does hold the door open, though, remembering that Roier's house has that weird security thing on the door that keeps everybody but him out.

"Your legs are too short," Roier complains as he brushes past Cellbit and walks into the house. "I keep tripping over shit."

"...I'm sorry?" Cellbit offers. (He internally smacks himself. No, stupid, why is he sorry? He can't control his genetics, fuck!)

Roier waves him off. "Nah, it's fine. It's just for today, right?"

He sits at his table with a groan, eyes slipping shut and head tilting over the back of the chair. He looks so... calm. Which means that Cellbit's actual real normal face looks calm, and that's weird. He doesn't do calm.

Hesitantly, Cellbit joins him at the table. He sits directly opposite him, leg bouncing nervously, hands clasped in his lap.

And then? Silence. Absolutely nothing but the slight rattle of the table as Cellbit's (Roier's?) knee bumps against it and the quiet sound of snoring from upstairs. (So Bobby is still asleep. That's normal, right?)

Cellbit glances at the goggles still firmly on his body's head.

"Thanks for keeping them on," he lamely says.

Roier hums a question mark and cracks an eye open, following Cellbit's gaze. He smiles, then, small and clearly fake.

"Hey, man, it's fine," he replies. "It kind of hurts, but it's fine."

Cellbit winces. "I mean, you can take them off! It's fine, it's just us."

Roier shrugs, but he doesn't move to take the goggles off.

Quiet again.

This is... fine. It's fine! Cellbit's soulmate is just a guy who probably maybe dislikes him, that's all. It's nothing he wasn't expecting from his soulmate, he knows how he is as a person. Roier is probably just disappointed, that's all.

"We don't have to do anything, you know," Cellbit says after a moment.

He looks back down at the table as Roier sits up to look at him.

Cellbit wrings his hands together, fingers hooking together and pulling-pushing and they throb from the bruises, and where did Roier get them, anyway? From the pattern, Cellbit would say Roier had punched something, but here are also small cuts indicating the involvement of glass, and-

(Detective brain. Off.)

"I mean, it's crazy, right?" Cellbit laughs weakly. "Us, soulmates? We don't even know each other."

"I mean, yeah, but that's normal, I think. You don't know your soulmate until you meet them, that's how it works."

"I guess? But-"

"And!" Roier interjects. "I know you better already! You sleep with your sword and you have cat ears, that's more than I know about half of my dates!"

Cellbit winces at the mention of his ears, but he manages to huff out a quiet laugh. He even feels himself smile, though it hurts bad enough for him to force it away after a moment.

"Okay," he breathes, and he looks up to meet Roier's (his own?) eyes. "So... it's fine?"

"What the fuck do you think I've been saying, pendejo?" Roier exclaims. He reaches across the table and lightly taps Cellbit on the forehead between his top set of eyes. "I know my body isn't deaf, so start listening."

He sits again, continuing speaking before Cellbit can say anything:

"I don't know you, and that's fine. You don't know me, and that's fine. You threatened my son yesterday, and that's fine. I'll threaten your son to make it even."

"Hey!" Cellbit protests.

Roier ignores him and keeps talking. "We're stuck on this island, Cellbit. We aren't allowed to leave. If we try, Osito Bimbo shoots us. So that gives us plenty of time to get to know each other."

Cellbit's eyes widen in alarm. "We're what?"

He thinks he remembers somebody mentioning that to him and the others yesterday, but there was so much going on that he didn't really register it. Prison, again? At least it's open-air this time...

Roier shrugs his concerns off with a literal wave of the hand. "So see? It's fine. We'll figure each other out, and then we'll kiss and have sex and stuff. Right?"

"Um," Cellbit stammers, the tips of his ears going red. "Maybe just the kissing part."

"Sure, sure. Point is..." Roier stands out of his chair and leans across the table, reaching down and pulling Cellbit's hands out of his lap. He holds them and looks Cellbit in the eyes and gravely asks, "...Cellbit, will you be my soulmate?"

Cellbit rolls his eyes and gently pulls his hands away. "I don't think I get a choice."

"Aw, come on! You're no fun," Roier pouts.

"There, that's a third thing you know about me."

"Shut up, what the fuck?"

And as the argument continues, the weight in Cellbit's heart slowly starts to lift. Just a little, because it's just the beginning, but maybe... maybe having a soulmate won't be that bad, after all.

-_-_-_-

A/N:

Thank you so much for reading! Please reblog maaaaaaaybe with a comment or a tag and tell me what you think! Or send an ask, I'm fine with anything!

[candyskiez]

Could you please tell us everything about Night in the Woods I am so intrigued to hear all your thoughts about it (<- have never played the game but eh I don't care about any spoilers)

I NEVER TALKED ABOUT THIS? FUCK.

OKAY. OKAY. NIGHT IN THE WOODS.

It's a game about capitalism, first and foremost. Like I mean It Is A Game About Capitalism. Pretty much every main conflict is in some way influenced by it. Specifically about how capitalism affects your mental health and relationships and how it's almost impossible to exist as a mentally ill person under capitalism.

The protagonist, Mae, has severe mental health issues. She hallucinates, she has mood swings, we don't know what she specifically has but it's very Real and the slow build up to showing it was very well done imo. It wasn't a plot twist it was the slow realization that she'd had these issues for so long and gotten zero help for it, and how all these little things had contributed to it. She's always fucking up relationships, she has anger issues, she feels Unlovable and like everyone hates her and sometimes maybe she hates everyone too, it's all a massive fucking mess and she has no idea how to fix it and she feels so goddamn broken. She dropped out of college because the hallucinations and breakdowns got so intense she could hardly leave her room, and when she came back there was so much judgement about dropping out and. It hurts, man! It really hurts! Her parents made her feel like she'd failed them, Bea felt like she just threw away her ticket out of this town, Agnus worried she was a bad influence on Gregg- even though these people were pretty good they're not immune to taking shit out on each other under the stress of working to stay alive. It's so messy and so realistic. It's all about how capitalism only benefits those on top and shreds the mental health of everyone being exploited by it, whether you have a job or not. There is no winning at capitalism. Dan is always looking for jobs and always getting fired. Bea is miserable at her job. Agnus and Gregg are working seven days a week and they're still tight on money.

And Casey couldn't get a job. We don't know why. And we don't know why because a cult killed him for not being Productive. They said nobody would miss him. One of the first things Mae does in the game is miss him. His parents put up posters. The missing poster is one of the first things you see in the game. "Nobody would miss him" because he didn't Contribute. We barely know anything about him, just that he apparently meant the world to so many characters in the game. Gregg was willing to kill a man when he learned Casey was dead. And they thought nobody would miss him because he wasn't Useful. And we will never know Casey's story because a bunch of bigoted assholes decided his life wasn't worth anything.

But the game is also about community. How capitalism tries to kill it and also how community is the only way to survive it and to maybe fix things. The only reason Mae survived is because she had a community. The reason Casey didn't survive is because he didn't have one. It's about how even though Mae cannot keep a job right now, she still has a place in her community because she exists. She still deserves a place in it, no matter how "Difficult" she is. It's about how Mae feels isolated and like the world is just dead and there's nothing left in it for her, but there are so many people who are alive in that community. There are so many people who see her and who like seeing her run by and who care about her. It's about the fact that the people who try to isolate her from her community because of her breakdown as a kid are actually kind of fucked up! And it's about the fact that community is what saves them. Bea runs off and almost gets herself in massive danger, but Mae runs after her. Even after all the messy shit between them, Mae runs after her. Even though Mae has messed shit up with them so many times, her friends love her. And when she says "I need to do this alone" they actively refuse to let her! They refuse to let her pull the main character card and follow her into danger because that's their friend! She tells them this is all her fault and they don't even humor her for a second. Because she is part of their community and nothing is going to change that.

And just. Oh my god the Scene where Mae confronts....whatever the thing in the mine is. Cosmic horror, hallucination, metaphor for her own inner Shit, whatever you wanna call it. She goes on about how she's always had this in her head. She has always felt disconnected from the world. She's always known shit was unfair and there's always been people having insane systems to hurt people and everything has always been like this. And she has always had these issues. She's always been too angry. She's always been volatile. She's always had periods where her brain works against her. And she just screams at what she thinks is a god that she gets it. She will always have these feelings. She will never stop being wired like this. And whether or not that's fair doesn't matter. But she wants it all to matter. And she is GOING to make it matter. She isn't going to die here. She isn't going to let herself die, and she isn't going to sacrifice herself, and she won't let any random Thing she sees control her choices. She is going to LIVE. She wants her death to hurt. She wants to go down fighting, and she will. No matter what this thing is, she does not fucking care. She can't even understand it. Why should she care about something that doesn't care about her? In that scene I mentioned before, "God" told her it didn't care. It had no reason to care. So why should she look for validation from something that had no reason to give it to her? Why should she let something that wasn't even in this world determine her worth and whether or not her life matters? She decides right then and there that her life matters, and that she will make it matter, and she wants to hope again. She wants to be happy again. And she won't take no from something that doesn't even care and didn't have a reason to. And she lives.

I fucking love this game.

[justheretoposttrash]

day 12 of the final endhawks: endhawkspocalypse:

the adhd side of my brain has taken over and decided that consistency can No Longer Happen, so i've decided to make this my last day of posting, at least when it comes to sequential daily posts. i'm still unhinged-ly working on endhawks-related things for the foreseeable future though, and always happy to talk about the ship!

here's a final hodgepodge of thoughts!

part 1 - more ch430 positives

the continued use of a ranked *number system* in particular is silly imo (ig the masses do love a catchy numbered list). but at the very least, i gotta appreciate that the main characters didn't get top rankings straight outta school--when i think about how old they are post-timeskip compared to hawks, especially! bbygirl got #2 at 22 but was child-soldiered into it and was absolutely breaking his proverbial back. it's really not an aspirational thing to beat, and it's not something the main characters have to achieve to be "cool" or fulfilled narratively. they focused on their happiness, instead--shoto on finding his own identity and balancing his life thanks to his support system, bakugo on getting his boyfriend/whatever/queerplatonic-died-in-each-others'-arms-on-a-battlefield-in-a-past-life-and-now-they-keep-reincarnating-together soul-partners/rival back at his side so they can keep pushing each other, etc.! mirio's ascent notwithstanding, it's a healthy nugget from the final chap.

another cute thing from 430 is when hawks jokes that nagant is a villain. this joke has layers to it, considering both had to take on the villain label because of the commission, also contributing to their respective traumas under the commission. (they both even had someone cradle them in their arms shouting that they were still a hero despite them being at their low points--and physically very crispy. one of those someones being hawks himself, ofc.)

next, i gotta appreciate how unfettered hawks's facial expressions have become (also, his under-eyes are already thicker and darker, bro needs to sleep 😭) compared to how subdued they were in the twice fight (and to be clear, his expressions still screamed volumes then. i love how they're drawn to convey so much nuance in his emotions). once he was cut free from the commission, he stopped putting on a smile while doing hero work (there wasn't much to smile about post-raid, but pre-raid i'd argue things were bleak for him already, so at least he doesn't feel the need to put on as many airs). he also started actively sweating and showing fear, but without losing more genuine displays of confidence and happiness. (all this makes me very curious if his speech patterns have also changed in the original japanese to any extent compared to how they were at his introduction)

part 2 - dabi=endhawks truther?!?! *not clickbait*

i remember it being kinda hilarious that dabi tossed out hawks's history as an extra "fuck you" to endeavor, but i forgot how direct he is about his intentions.

he's just like, "yeah, i specifically wanted to drag hawks (and reveal his betrayal and hopefully shake your faith in him) to hurt you, dad. even though you two have hung out, like, maybe twice (may he rest in peace) in your whole lives. trust me, i knew this would be devastating for you. don't ask me how i know." like. touya my man. what are you doing. also thank you. almost makes the angst-lover in me wish he'd added a "don't worry about hawks, dad. you'll be joining him soon" right before attacking him with prominence burn to twist the knife, though understandably that would've convoluted the spotlight when the focus was meant to be on family and the touya reveal. but goddamn, just imagine.

he basically did the exact same thing to hawks by telling him his identity. in revealing a name that could only hold any significance to hawks through its relation to endeavor and what touya's existence implies about him, touya wielded a secret from endeavor's past to psychologically hurt hawks and shake his faith. it's just wild that he did it to both of them, pulled off flawlessly and with maximum drama, in rapid succession. legendary.

anyway, ppl tend to portray dabi as an endhawks anti, when funnily he's kinda more on the side of enjoying the fact they have a connection--granted, mainly as a thing to leverage to hurt them, bc he fuckin despises them (and granted, hatred in dabi's eyes is a complicated thing)--but still! he ain't in denial about endeavor's and hawks's relationship, he's an og! he's first in line! this makes his daddy issue allegations so much worse, but he doesn't care! and honestly i owe my life to him for his service in unearthing the truth; he's doing canon, in-text work to forcefeed the public endhawks crumbs that they didn't even want, and he deserves our utmost respect 🫡🫡🫡🫡🫡

part 3 - our hero academia ft. protective enji

my mind was too wrapped up in The Plot to notice the subtleties of when Press Conference Lady yells at endeavor post-raid--for one thing, i realize on a second read that she's actually kinda yelling at hawks. so much of the emphasis is on endeavor's past actions that i didn't pick up on a few key details. for one, when hawks discusses his murder of jin, the visual centers endeavor's reaction, solemn but accepting/calm.

secondly, Press Con Lady speaks up right after hawks is done talking. thirdly, what she describes--not looking sorry, empty-seeming apologies, incompetence in the face of villains--apply as criticisms equally to hawks as they do to endeavor (notably not to jeanist, as he doesn't have a past or scandalous behavior to answer for).

it's also at this time that endeavor looks more angry (just look at his frown in the panel above!) and actually gives some pricklier-sounding pushback, when before he was mainly resolved and remorseful.

notably, he's translated as saying "we" and "our". ofc he's paying respect to his colleagues at large as well, but considering Press Con's criticisms are pointed most specifically and apply most to hawks and himself, he's strongly implying and acknowledging the pain that hawks has been through.

as he goes on to speak, the word choice shifts away from "us" and "we" to "me" as he claims responsibility for what happens next and urges peoples' slings and arrows to aim at him alone--again, for the sake of his colleagues and family at large, but particularly for hawks in this moment.

the undercurrents are so understated in this scene, but the degree to which endeavor shifts the language and focus away from hawks and onto himself is profound. throughout mha, we've got plenty of thought bubbles showing how hawks feels about endeavor in outright terms, but not as many from endeavor about hawks, especially after all their dirty laundry gets aired out. but even without thought bubbles, how he feels about hawks even at the worst of times becomes perfectly clear.

(god they drive me insane lmao)

[wxnheart]

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐤𝐰𝐢𝐜𝐡, '𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐍𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭 𝐁𝐮𝐜𝐤 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐇𝐞 𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐅**𝐤' 𝐄𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

note: dedicated to the lovely @bitchysouljellyfish. I absolutely enjoy our conversations and it's thanks to you that I came up with this idea. also, dear viewers, this is more a König x Ghost scenario but you'll be watching from the sidelines... because Simon says so.

POV: You're watching two of the finest men you know about to fuck like wild animals...

It's official. You hate Ghost. You hate Ghost with the force of a thousand fucking suns. Fuck him.

And fuck König, too, for cosigning this bullshit. Fuck both of them. You hope the glare you shot Simon got your point across.

Yeah, you hate them right now, but goddamn... they're fucking beautiful like this. And you can't do a damn thing about it.

It all started when Simon fucking snapped earlier. König got the best of him again and the bastard took it personally. Again. And in pure Ghost fashion, he shot the Austrian his signature glare and if you didn't know Simon well, you'd think he was trying to kill König ten times over with the way he was looking at him. But he wasn't. Not really. Not unless you count sex as murder.

Simon glared, body taut, and it was a mixture of frustration and pure unadulterated want. And poor König, looking startled, somewhat wary, and... oh—

Hard. They're both hard. Oh shit. When did that happen?

It was like a flash. They were staring each other down and next thing you know, Simon managed to tackle and pin König down on the floor. Oh shit. Bet y'all weren't expecting that.

Time to intervene—"Sit down." Huh? Say what now? "Simon—" "Sit. Down." You wanted to challenge him but... consequences, baby. And his voice sent shivers down your spine. So you sat. And you watched with rapt attention. And so was König, apparently. Huh. You thought he'd be more resistant to whatever was happening but he was just as interested in seeing this through as you were. Hell, you both wondered what the fuck Ghost was going to do next.

Well, you two didn't have to wonder long. Ghost practically ripped König's clothes off him he was so damn aroused. And oh, poor König, shocked and startled and hard and leaking... and, oh god. Fuck, Ghost...

His clothes came off just as quickly. And to hell with foreplay. Nah, it's all or nothing with this. No preparation, no fucking kisses, just the main course, a rush of adrenaline and pure and utter hate.

Goddamn, you remember the last time you and Simon hatefucked. Felt like you couldn't walk or see straight for the rest of the fucking day. Now it was König's turn. You squeezed your thighs together and bit your lip to suppress a moan of pleasure. Oh, you felt yourself getting hot. But Simon had you both fooled. No words. No indication. Just adrenaline and pure and utter hate. Shocking, wasn't it? The bastard just grabbed König's dick and made himself home on it. Slowly. Almost too fucking slow for your tastes. And König's. German curses under his breath, fingers twitching, and frustration emanating off of him in droves. And Simon's groan didn't make shit any better. ("F-Fucking hell...")

And what do you know? The motherfucker wouldn't even give König the satisfaction of touching him. Practically snarled the moment he tried to grab hold of his hips and pull him down even further. But fuck that noise. Simon didn't give a damn (well he did but that's not the point right now). Hope it felt so goddamn good he'd go insane. God, what was wrong with him? It hurt so damn much; his body was on fire but fuck if it didn't feel good, if his baby didn't feel good inside him. Fucking bastard.

It wasn't long (it felt like it though) before König was completely sheathed in Simon and it felt like you three were falling apart at the seams. Yeah, shit like this couldn't wait. Simon grabbed the taller man by his chin and made him look ("Look at me."), made him watch as—oh fuck, the way he moaned, the way he started to move, to make his taller lover fucking groan and come undone. And fuck you, König. He'd show you he could beat you where it counts. He'd show you who bested who in the end.

König couldn't complain, his breath was too busy being taken away, and hell, you weren't that far behind, watching the scene unfold before you, knowing that Simon would and could make this last as long or as short as he wanted to.

So yeah, fuck you Ghost, and fuck you, König for making this shit so. fucking. beautiful. Goddamn...

You opened your thighs. Your hand traveled lower and it wasn't long before your moans joined theirs.

[redhoodinternaldialectical]

For the writing ask: 10, and maybe 17?

(I love your writing by the way!)

:D Thank you muchly anon, both for the ask and the compliment!

Hmmm, since I already answered these elsewhere I shall link to those other answers and give you snippets related to the questions instead :3

10: Top three favourite fic tropes.

Since I mentioned my half written ABO fic, I shall give you a snippet from that rough draft!

Jason attempts to initiate an omegan "give me food as a sign I'm family" ritual with Tim one day, not realizing that no one other than Jason knows that Jason isn't an alpha. Tim interprets it as an alphetic "fuck you bitch I should be higher in the pecking order than you" move.

But then Jason's reaction to Tim baring fangs and snarling at him feels... really weird. Like, if he didn't know better that looked less like a challenger alpha backing off and more like an omega feeling hurt and rejected.

...But he does know better, is the thing. He's seen Jason's DNA, and his chromosomes are very clearly alpha, no ambiguity about it.

...He is weirdly big for an alpha though? Like, fucking huge, honestly, the kind of huge that really only loner omegas, stressed ones at that, can manage - or devoted venom users like Bane and Jason really isn't the type to go for doping. That's no guarentee, after all Dick is nearly just as big and he's as Alpha as they come, but then again, there is a reason that genotype and phenotype are different words come to think of it and...

Well shit. Maybe he doesn't know better.

The next time they meet, Tim offers him an apple out of his lunch. If Jason's actually just a big alpha, it'll be a confusing as fuck submissive respect towards a higher pack alpha move considering their earlier scuffle, possibly an insulting implication about his height or weight, and just generally very weird. But if he's an omega, it's the first step to actually repairing this.

Jason is hesitant, but accepts it, takes one bite, and then hands it back, a symbolic acceptance that proves he ate just as a bond. Very, very clear omegan behavior.

The time after that he brings enough to share, bagged such that it's easy to dole out portions. Jason is cautious, but receptive and after the confusion is explained he tucks into the food offered to him heartily.

"So, seriously, whole group of the best detectives on earth, and not a single fucking one of them put together that the extremely obvious omega who wasn't even trying to hide this shit, was an omega? Not one?"

"As far as I can tell, I'm the first to figure it out."

"Is that why Bruce keeps trying herd me all the time?!"

Tim laughs, "Yuuup! He thinks you're shoving off his overprotective routine!"

"I hate this so fucking much, it's so goddamn stupid and it explains WAY too many things!"

"I'm so sorry for solving a good third of all your social problems."

"Oh like it didn't take you this many fucking years to figure it out!"

"In my defense, I've literally never met you with your scent blockers off."

Jason mulls that over inbetween bites of lo mein. It's not a pleasant thought that he's been so removed from their lives that this might be a feasible thing to miss, "...You want to change that?"

Tim perks up, surprised, but happy, maybe even trying to rein in his own excitment, "Yeah! That- I mean whatever you're comfortable with, that'd be nice."

They go to one of Tim's apartments, since honestly Jason doesn't have a scented one. Tim greets him at the door, mouth open delicately sniffing at him. After a second of hesitation Jason leans down so they're cheek to cheek, overtly figuring out each others scents.

He smells sweat, testosterone, and a thousand other animal scents that combine to make something that is uniquely Tim. it's wonderful and Jason wants it on him, wants it all over himself.

There are human ways to ask for these things, usually involving words, and the polite exchanging of sweaters, but he doesn't know the right words, has never really had this, has never be able to try to ask, and so he doesn't. He trills, like he's feral. He honestly feels feral, so out of his depth that he's stripped down to animal need and instinct.

Tim shifts in surprise ever so subtly, then cautiously but firmly sets his cheekbone against Jason's offering what he wants wordlessly. Jason takes it, rubbing his cheek against Tim roughly all the way down from his face to where his neck connects with his shoulder.

Tim laughs breathlessly and returns the scenting affection with just as much vigor.

They rub their cheeks and necks together long enough that he gets tired of having to bend down, so Jason just picks Tim up to make it more comfortable, a low rumbling purr from him slowly getting louder, joined by Tim's encouraging alpha chirps.

They finish once they're so thoroughly drenched in each other's scent that no one but a bloodhound could tell them apart. Jason gently sets him down, backing up as much as the door behind him would allow and then they just... carry on as though it's all chill and normal, discussing cases, then some other light talk, and then sharing takeout tacos.

"How long do you think it'll take them to notice?"

"With you actually treating me like an omega? Give it maybe one visit. They can't seriously be <em>that</em> stupid."

He said, right before they immediately prove that they are, in fact, that stupid.

17: Past or present tense? Why?

For this one I'll give you the spot where I'm playing around with tense changes as a thematic device in the next chapter of Chained: To Wield the Blade we Have Forged. its under the read more cause Spoilers (also I may tweak some more stuff before it actually gets published, we'll see!)

A young girl stood on a chair cutting her hair off into messy chunks over the bathroom sink. Her face was fixed in a scowl of determination, lit only by the pale nightlight she'd taken into the bathroom.

She hadn't been willing to take the risk of turning on the proper lights. She was afraid one of her parents would walk past and see the glow through the cracks around the door and demand to know what she was doing up this late.

They'd notice her hair in the morning, obviously, but something told her that begging forgiveness in the morning was far safer than being caught in the act at night.

The scissors bent and creaked in protest as she forced them to saw through the entirety of her pony tail all at once. She muttered curses at them - Hadn't she just gotten in trouble a few days ago for playing with them because they were dangerous? Weren't these stupid things supposed to be sharp?!

Unfortunately, without the light on, and without a lock to keep anyone out, her father didn't bother to knock before he opened the door and stepped into the bathroom.

There is a moment of frozen panic as the world slides and slips into two overlapping images. In one translucent view Dad was yelling about what on earth she thought she was doing to her hair and about waking Mom up to try and salvage it. That sequence slips like oil off of the concrete surface of this other moment.

Dad stands still and quiet. There is a sorrow on his face so profound it's frightening.

"I think I regret this argument more than any other. Maybe it's- you know human memory is a mess but... it felt later like this must've been where it all went wrong."

She didn't understand; this wasn't how it was supposed to go.

"What?"

"After I found out about Robin and the puberty blockers and Bruce, I thought about this moment a lot. Couldn't help but look back and try and sort it all out in my head. And maybe I didn't ask for your perspective on it enough, or maybe I asked about it too much or - cripes I don't know, but it felt like this was where the first brick in the wall between us got laid."

Tim suddenly remembers that he hasn't been the little girl in this bathroom for thirteen years. He's left adrift, standing there in his pajamas, scissors still in hand.

"I- I don't know. I don't really think about this much anymore. It's been years since I thought about anything that happened when I was this young."

[noxexistant]

ai-less whumptober; day five

@ailesswhumptober 5 — overstimulation, migraines, “I can’t take this anymore.” ↳ the world circulation yard, circa 1899 word count; 1.8k

cw; vomiting, physical abuse, vague mentions of suicide attempts/substance abuse/visual hallucinations

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Morris' head hurts. The distribution yard is so goddamn loud.

He isn't good with noise. He never has been. He doesn't know why. It's something that doesn't seem to bother most people, but it always bothers him. Anything from a slight, distant tapping to the cacophanous noise of all of the newsies crowded in the yard, it gets under his skin immediately in a way he can't explain, no matter how many times Oscar asks — has asked — what the fuck is wrong with him.

The noise is just. Too much. Especially today, especially right now. The daylight is too much. The yard smells like dirt and the newsies smell like sweat and the seams of his undershirt are pressing against his skin, he'd had to put his jacket on too quickly so it isn't sitting right, his shirt sleeves are all pushed up underneath, and there's so much noise.

His head hurts. It's hurt since last night, and Oscar had told him it would be better in the morning, but it's worse today, and there's lights dancing in his vision. Oscar had only given him a strange look when he'd tried to explain them, that note of concern in his face like he thinks Morris is having an episode again, so Morris had dropped it. But they're there. They're making it near impossible to see.

"Morris!" Wiesel barks, and whacks him across the back of the head.

Morris gets back to work.

It's first thing in the morning. Distribution has hardly started yet, though the newsies are in a chaotic crowd on the other side of the window, all shouting and jeering and laughing like it isn't barely dawn. Morris is moving stacks of papers, his usual job first thing. They're heavy and every movement is making the lights in his vision dance, his head throb like a fresh hit from the end of a cane, but he knows he'll get whacked harder if he stops again, so he forces himself to keep going — until, finally, Oscar nudges him. He flinches, eyes sort of feeling like they're falling back in his skull for a moment as his eyelids flutter, before he rights himself.

"You lost track?" he asks quietly, not unkindly. Oscar had been helping at the counter with Wiesel, but he isn't good with the counting. The money and the papes. Oscar shakes his head.

"Jus'. Look like you're about to keel over."

Morris feels like he might. Oscar squeezes his shoulder and steps around him in a manner Morris knows means the're swapping jobs. It feels like a blessing.

Until he actually gets up to the desk, at least. Only a few of the boys have been seen to out of a line that seems endless, and Wiesel is getting irritated again as he fights to keep serving them on his own.

"One a' you!" he snaps at his nephews behind him in the cramped little office. "Get the fuck here."

Morris takes his station beside him.

The light hits him again as he stands right up at the window. The sky is covered horizon to horizon in pale clouds, and it isn't even fully daylight yet, but it feels agonisingly bright. A wave of brutal white that makes Morris' skull throb, makes his eyes ache like bruises.

"Fifty," Wiesel tells him. Morris counts out the papers as fast as he can with shaking hands, numb fingers. Then the next batch, then the next, and the next, getting sloppier each time. The newsies are all talking above him, an ebbing and flowing of a hundred different conversations all happening at once, overtop of each other, and he jumps when he suddenly picks out a, "Morris!" from the noise. For a moment, he thinks it's Wiesel, thinks he's in trouble again, another hit incoming, but when it's repeated — again and again, incessant — he recognises it as one of the newsies.

"Rough night?" the boy is grinning, picking up his stack of papes from the countertop. Morris can't remember his name, can hardly recognise his face — can hardly see it beyond the glowing and shifting colours in his vision. "Christ. Been at the bars like your brother?"

"Or his daddy!" one of the others shouts, and then they're all laughing. Morris' hearing crackles. His stomach is churning, head buzzing. He wants to speak up, tell them to fuck off, tell them he'll come out there and break their goddamn jaws — but the words feel a million miles away. Speech feels impossible. His tongue is numb.

"Move it along!" Wiesel hollers, and the boy goes, moving aside in a way that makes Morris' head spin. He thinks he might be sick.

He swears there aren't usually this many newsies. There can't be. It feels like there's a million of them. Where did they all come from? He's trying so hard to keep up. His fingers aren't working properly, his hands don't feel connected to him, but he's trying. Overhears another newsie crow as he moves off that Morris is as stupid as his brother, gave him fifty-three instead of fifty, and he can't even bring himself to care — not until Wiesel's cane whacks him across his stooped shoulders and a noise of pathetic pain is wrenched from him.

It's all too much.

"Mo," Oscar says, concerned as Morris stumbles away from the desk, and Morris shoves past him.

"Can't take this anymore," he croaks to his brother, and lets himself out of the back door of the office. Closes it behind him and manages to clumsily shove the bolt across to lock it, keep his brother or his uncle from following him.

And then he doubles over to throw up onto the cobblestone.

He thinks he might be dying, maybe. He's come close before, and this is close to what it had felt like. Wave after wave of this awful feeling over every inch of his skin, his head throbbing — whether from trauma or blood loss or whatever he'd taken too much of then, or whatever's happening to him now — and his stomach rolling and his eyes unable to focus. The lights are flashing and dancing, blinding streamers that blur across his vision even when he squeezes his eyes closed, and it reminds him of the few times he's been drunk in the theatre district. Stumbling and laughing with Oscar, sneaking in to whichever shows take their fancy, surrounded by lights and glamour for once in their lives.

This certainly feels more suited to him, Morris thinks, as his knees buckle and he collapses down to the damp ground.

He's throwing up again when footsteps approach him. He might be crying. Someone says something, but it isn't Oscar, so he ignores it — until it comes again, and again, rattling through his bones each time.

"Stop," he finally manages to plead, voice a feeble croak—

And David stops, stomach dropping with the familiar sting of rejection, but he forces himself to swallow it down. There are places he'd much rather be than the dank alleyway behind the distribution centre, smelling the acrid scent of vomit amongst a hundred other unsavoury scents — and being essentially begged to shut up by Morris, but. Well. As he'd struggled to explain to Jack over his shoulder, he just…understands. That look that had been on Morris' face, the way he'd fled with shaking hands over his ears. David knows.

He gets like it too. Admittedly lacking the more severe symptoms Morris seems to be exhibiting, but perhaps those are unrelated — maybe he's sick too. Or maybe he's only like this because he's sick — but, no, David's seen him be like this before. He always notices. Pays attention to how Morris flinches at noises and covers his ears and climbs and sways and chews and. A million other things that David had previously never seen in anyone other than himself.

"Sorry," he whispers, daring to get closer. "I'm sorry. I just. Are you okay?"

He winces. It's a stupid question.

Morris doesn't respond anyway. He's got his eyes closed, forehead leaning against the brick beside him, trembling all over. He certainly looks sick, pale as anything. And he's rocking, David realises. A subtle back and forth motion where he's collapsed with his legs tucked under him. An attempt at self-soothing.

"I, um. Your brother's coming," David tells him. He can't think of anything else that could make Morris feel better. "I told him to get you some water."

Giving orders to Oscar Delancey seems like an immensely stupid thing to do now, but Oscar had listened. David supposes it's true what Jack always says, about the brothers being each others' weak spots. So weak, in fact, that Oscar and Jack aren't even arguing when they round the office a minute later — Oscar is paying no attention to Jack at all. He's holding a dented little metal tumbler and bearing an expression that reminds David immediately of his father when Les had come home from the rally, with blood all over and a broken collarbone.

"Mo," he says, and shoves past David without hesitation. David opens his mouth instinctively to say something, the sort of thing that would usually get him shoved again or punched if Oscar's in the mood or got the time — but then he…closes it again. He watches as Oscar crouches down and leans in close to his brother. He seems to ask a question, voice so low it's indistinguishable, and then holds the water out and tilts it so Morris can take a tentative sip.

David thinks about what Jack had said once, about how Oscar had cared for Morris in the Refuge. A parental figure more than a brother. And he thinks about his mother this time, her gentle care offering what limited comforts she can whenever David has been sick. Watered down soups and cool water and a gentle hand.

"Dave," Jack says from behind him, a little tight. "C'mon. We gotta get goin'. Gotta. Sell."

He's restless, clearly. David imagines it must be an awkward experience to watch an exchange like this between the two brothers you were raised beside. Lost your own brother beside. So David goes — for a few steps, at least, until he can't resist the urge anymore to cast a glance over his shoulder at the two boys as Jack keeps on going.

"I. Um. I hope he feels better soon," he says. Oscar looks at him. "Quiet should help. And, um. Water. Don't—don't touch him too much—"

"Jacobs," Oscar says, and David freezes. "I fuckin' raised him. I know how to look after him."

"Okay. Okay."

David watches him for a moment longer. A scarred hand pushing Morris' sweat-damp curls back from his forehead, Oscar's brow furrowed, his lips moving in more words David can't make out.

He goes and catches up with Jack.

[cryaboutitpal]

Discussing what happened between Marshmallow and Paintbrush.

(This analysis post is going to primarily focus on Paintbrush. Sorry Marshmallow fans.)

As we know, Marshmallow decided to abandon Inanimate Insanity during episode 11 of season 2 and was officially disqualified in episode 12. What I don't see a lot of people talking about though is the relationship between Marshmallow and Paintbrush and just how much hurt this could have possibly caused the poor artist.

So, let's take a look at the whole ordeal together in my attempt at an analysis post and see how this all affected Paintbrush. Marshmallow won't be mentioned too much because I'm mainly focusing on Painty here, not Marsh.

Let's not waste anymore time! Let's go! The analysis is under the cut!

1: Marshmallow and Paintbrush's friendship

From what we (the viewers) have been shown, these two are pretty close. From that one Santa ploy they schemed together to trick Apple in episode 9 season 1 to Paintbrush helping Marshmallow hide from Apple in episode 6 season 2, they were commonly shown helping each other and in general just being best buds.

Bare in mind, all that is simply what's shown! I know they're fictional characters and all but still! Imagine all the shit they could've done together off camera! (If that was possible, of course.)

So, with the context that Paintbrush and Marshmallow were extremely close... Doesn't the whole "Marsh abandoning the game to live with Bow, Dough and Apple" thing seem much more tragic already?

No?

Don't worry, I'll show you just how tragic it truly is.

2: Abandonment and the (assumed) circumstances behind it

We all know why Marshmallow abandoned the game. Here's the thing though: just because we, the viewers know the reason doesn't mean that they, the characters know that reason.

Paintbrush doesn't know that Marshmallow simply got sick of the game and wanted to live with Bow. They have no idea where she is or if she's even alive.

Not only that... They probably think they are at fault as well.

I'll tell you my reasoning as to why I think they blame themself.

The episode right before Marshmallow abandoned the game (episode 10, season 2) Paintbrush lost it right in front of Marsh and assaulted Fan. Verbally and physically. Doesn't help that the run in with some of their other teammates ended with Paintbrush calling Marshmallow, telling her that they were leaving.

I doubt Paintbrush meant to seem as controlling as I made them sound. They just got frustrated, that happens.

That doesn't mean they don't blame themself now, does it?

I mean, if you got angry in front of your best friend and that anger led to you hitting someone and storming off, dragging your friend along right before they mysteriously vanished, never to be seen again... Well, who wouldn't blame themself for that?

Again, Paintbrush isn't evil. They aren't exactly good but they certainly didn't want to control Marsh. If anything, they wanted to help her. It's just that their anger got in the way and now she's left them.

Things get even worse however...

3: Lightbulb's time travelling shenanigans

(Great quality screenshot, Akemi. You could probably count the pixels in that goddamn thing.)

Lightbulb fucking around with time in of itself didn't really do much about the whole situation. What I want to talk about is something that is barely even touched on, if at all.

Like with Marshmallow leaving the game, the cast didn't know that Test Tube and Lightbulb were time travelling and messing about in an alternate universe like us viewers do. To the cast, they just disappeared.

Sounds familiar, doesn't it? Yep, it's similar to Marshmallow going AFK.

Not only that, the circumstances are similar as well, at least to Painty.

They got angry with a teammate, hurt a teammate (emotionally this time) and walked off mad.

Considering how Lightbulb disappeared basically right after this scene, Paintbrush probably thought that Lightbulb had left them forever.

Just like Marshmallow.

Granted, Paintbrush displays a positive reaction to the news but... How do we know that they were actually happy about Lightbulb suddenly going missing? What if they were mentally tearing their bristles out or something? That had to have felt some guilt and self-hatred over the whole thing, right?

Faking a smile is basically Lightbulb's whole character (heavily watered down but still kinda right), I wouldn't doubt that Paintbrush would fake one as well.

Remember: actions and thoughts can be separate! A character could look happy but actually be extremely sad and self-loathing!!

At least Lightbulb didn't actually disappear forever like Marshmallow. That probably made Paintbrush feel a little less guilty. Keyword: a little. Not entirely. They still don't know where Marshmallow is and still probably blame themself for her leaving the game.

Not entirely a happy ending but more bittersweet, kinda like their season 2 elimination.

So, in conclusion. Paintbrush's conscience is probably a guilty one due to Marshmallow leaving them and never coming back.

(I could still be wrong though, feel free to correct me.)

Anyway, Sayonara!

[abrisaber]

I think the reason why Helluva Boss's newest episodes are so awful is because the writers have no idea how to make conflicts.

Every time an antagonist comes back they always exist to only illicit conflict and nothing else.

Crimson represents a life that Moxxie wanted to leave behind. The ending of the episode he debuted in shows that he's quite literally after Moxxie's life. But then he comes back, not in relation to Moxxie, Moxxie's not even in the episode, but instead to bring Striker into the picture. And of course what purpose does Striker serve other than to spew "eat the rich" propaganda that serves no real purpose since we quite literally never see any real examples of prejudice in Hell against Imps aside from Stolas being a creep and a child calling Blitzo an "Imp slur" I guess.

Dhorks and the Cherubs both represent how there are bigger parties involved that are after IMP and how shit is going to hit the fan for them, and with the introduction of Heaven in Hazbin Hotel, a show that CONFIRMED to take place in the same place that Imp has their fucking office, things could get really bad really fast. But yet again their only purpose was to install comic relief conflict into the plot of an episode that absolutely did not need a B-Plot. There will be no connecting ties between Helluva Boss and Hazbin Hotel despite the fact that it would be more logical if it did, or if, at the very least, they came up with an actual reason for why the shows don't matter to each other that isn't just "copyright." Heaven wants to suppress Demonkind but when Demonkind does something that goes directly against what Heaven is trying to do, i.e drive more human souls into hell with their antics on Earth (a place they were claiming to try to protect), they just don't fucking care. Not even a little bit.

And Stolas, oh boy Stolas. Blitzo needs to realize his actions have consequences right? But oh no it appears Vivziepop has written herself into another fucking circle by having Stolas also be a piece of shit, and everyone in Blitzo's life be a piece of shit, so now there's no one to call Blitzo out anymore!! What's the solution? Just have Stolas be the victim. You know how he manipulated Blitzo into the deal, love bombed him constantly despite Blitzo visibly showing zero interest, and then acted embarrassed when he was actually called out for being a cheating scumbag? Yeah none of that matters. Blitzo hurt his feeeewings because he didn't reciprocate Stolas's borderline harassment and didn't drop his entire life just be play his knight and shining armor. Blitzo having a bunch of bitter exes who hate his guts and want him dead despite the fact that we don't know what he did to them aside from a few comments about Blitzo's absolutely minuscule actions towards a bunch of randos is entirely justifiable because he's mean! Even though literally fucking everybody is mean.

Nothing in this show matters. Not the world building, not the conflicts, nothing. Every single episode exists in it's own individual conflict bubble despite the fact that it claims it's serialized. It claims to have multiple main characters but only two of them have ever gotten any actual noteworthy "development" and the rest are left out to dry in favor of the supporting cast. This show has potential to have so much more interesting and better established stories but it's creators have NO FUCKING CLUE WHAT THEY'RE DOING!!! They don't know how to create conflict, they don't know how to write believable character relationships, they don't know how to develop characters, they don't know how to divide story focus between characters accordingly, they don't know who the main characters are and who the side characters are, and they have absolutely not a motherfucking goddamn SLIVER of a clue WHAT KIND OF SHOW THEY ARE TRYING TO MAKE. They. Do. Not. Know.

This rant makes absolutely no sense but I had to get this shit out of my head or I might've exploded and died.

[mewtwoandme]

Everytime you post an update with these Mewtwos dealing with their emotions it seems you and mewtwo just can't win

Mewtwo being hard on Newt because of the prepaid asswhooping and her disowning him and it leads to him not wanting her to stay his house? People telling Mewtwo to get over it or saying he should NEVER forgive her ever in life

Mewtwo pointing out that his other sibling fucking bounced after she kept a secret he nearly died for? Now he's a hypocrite and going too far!

This dude can't win at all he must just be happy go lucky 24/7 with his dysfunctional family and they must never grow alongside him, they must always be in the right from newtwo to mew to Lakota even if they hurt him, he must just grin and bear his transgressions

Idk man it sucks to see because you clearly put your all into representating EVERY perspective and EVERY consequence to flesh these characters out and if these ppl had it their way they'd be chucking Mewtwo into the volcano for every little thing. I know you're probably used to it by now but damn. Goddamn. You have my appreciation for creating such a detailed yet simple to follow story. I hope you know that this story you've written is beautiful.

Thank you so very much ^^

When telling a story with multiple characters, it's difficult to portray everyone's individual struggles, emotions, and pov's, but that's exactly why I wanted to do it this way. Normally, with stories, it's always focused more on just one character's pov. And even when there is focus on multiple characters, sometimes each character gets their own individual arc, showing their struggles as a story or series goes on. In my story, everyone is struggling all at the same time and not individualized into separate arcs, because I planned it that way.

With what my characters are going through right now, all they're trying to do is make good decisions in a rather stressful situation, no one is in the right and no one's in the wrong, they're all just trying to do their best amidst their own inner turmoils. But people are so quick to choose who to root for, that there's someone who's more right or wrong or who's more justified in their actions than the other when here, that's not the case at all. I don't see much storytelling that does this, that's why I wanted to do it this way, when it shows where everyone is coming from and what emotions they feel. It is more difficult to do admittedly, because of the fact that the audience's opinions are so divided. Lakota got a lot of hate for supposedly "taking Newtwo's side" in the argument she had with Mewtwo, Newtwo got hate for being discriminatory towards her brother and disowning him. Mewtwo sometimes still gets hate or is disliked because of being too emotional, and Mew got some hate for leaving without telling them when she'd be back. I'm still going down this route regardless because it's necessary to the story I'm trying to tell.

I do have a personal rant I'd like to get off my chest though, so read under the cut if you choose

I've had many people tell me how my Mewtwo is "overly sensitive and/or emotional" trust me, I just roll my eyes at those people. It's not the easiest to portray such a complex character like Mewtwo's but people are so used to how he is portrayed in the anime, cold, distant, ominous, broody, bad tempered, continuously in a state of contemplating and having an existential crisis....that's what he's always been known for. God forbid anyone else wants to take different routes to expand on a character's personality and vulnerability for character growth. I always get things like "What have you done to him? He used to be so strong and badass, now he's just a whiney wimp!" (A petty child's argument in my opinion) and "That's not the Mewtwo I know." Well no shit Sherlock, this is MY interpretation of him. Given everything he's gone through, the vulnerable side of him that involves his trauma was never explored and I wanted to explore it further. It's not like I just make shit up on the whim just for him to start crying or breaking down, I make him go through real and possibly relatable life emotions that people irl experience when they've undergone trauma and Mewtwo has valid reasons for his emotions. Abandonment, the crippling feeling of doubting your self worth or value to others, the feeling of always needing to be independent because no one was there for you to rely on etc. are just a few of the things he still struggles with from time to time. A lot of recent events that have happened in the story have opened up some old wounds and triggered trauma responses. Especially Newtwo disowning him, the feeling of not being worth his own sister's time and love, and Mew, just up and leaving when Mewtwo needed her. Also, regardless if it's been 20+ years since Giovanni, that still lingers with him and what happened with Howard Clifford was more recent and that fucked him up too. You can't simply get over it, as some say. When you're traumatized, it can take years and years to heal. But sometimes you don't heal at all, sometimes the emotional damage is permanent and it changes you as a person, and you have to find ways to manage it in order to function on the daily. And if it sounds like I'm speaking from personal experience, it's because I am. Sometimes trauma...doesn't always make you stronger...

[mydysfunctionalvampirefamily]

Wowowow Miles is waking during the day??? Call me suspicious.

AAAAAAAHHHHH did he just fucking bloodbond Wynn???

Noooooo. I mean also I get it but this is such a fucking Miles solution?!? What the hell. 😂😂

But also why are his fingers in her mouth??? That just seems so unnecessary.

'Oh no I'm Miles, I know what's best even though it's often a bad decision, but I will take responsibility and will not confer with anyone else because this is my burden to bear, and also I just know better than all of them.'

Goddamnit Miles don't talk about fucking territory, reach down in your feelings and show Wynn that you care for her!!!

Also I still don't understand why this would help??? I was informed that this is what he wanted to do the night before and he wants to try to get her to 3 before Lucint.

Oh noooo Ventrue are arrogant? You don't say...

Yes Wynn tell him!!!! Make this fucker see.

Miles..... This is so not about you, it's about Wynn rn.

MILES people you associate with???? Even now you can't say you fucking care about her??? Goddamn you piece of shit. 😂

Of course he ignores you lmao, Miles can't be told he's wrong! That's crazy. Smh.

I mean.... At least he asked if she wants another? But is that really fairbif she's bloodbonded. Yeah like Wynn says she doesn't want it to be a choice because having to say yes to something you do not want at all is horrible.

Ooooooooffffffff y'all idk how I feel about this. I have a lot a lot of emotions. I just keep flashing back to when Britta was level 2 bloodbonded with fucking Rowlands and how obsessed she was with him and what he thought of her.

This has all been very upsetting and I have a lot of complicated thoughts and feelings about all of this.

😭 Wynn subconsciously walking past places where she thinks Miles is. Don't you see how fucked up this is!?!

Goddamn Wynn. I am so glad they're having all these talks, I just wish the reason wasn't so shit.

I can't. I know I am not saying anything about Wynn and Johnny's conversation about their kids, but I can't. I'm just sitting here, listening, crying.

Johnny calling Wynn family. 😭

Oh. My. God. She woke up in his fucking arms???? Pendragon why don't you tell Britta again that she can't have any power over you. You are WHIPPED.

What??? How did she lose all that blood?

Sore and aching from last night???? What the hell??? Is this a sex thing or a vampire thing? Or both? It sounds like someone took blood from her right?

Lmaoo now she also try to roll to not eat from him??? Isn't their relationship already complicated enough without her feeding and also bloodbonding???

Lex saying he is having her roll with difficulty 9 due to the circumstances, like he wasn't directly responsible for those circumstances! 😂

"Then feed" My mouth fucking dropped!!! They already bonded the night before. He wants her to bond more to himmmmm what a fucking creepy asshole Jesus!!! Did this man just try to trick her into going to lvl 2 bloodbond by making sure she wakes up at 0 blood????

Also don't you fucking so what Britta you sob you know what she is getting at!

WHAT IS WITH ALL THESE FUCKING BLOODBONDS BTW???. I NOT FUCKING READY FOR ANY OF THIS SHIT.

Don't you give that dismissive very well then! Sir!!! You should be on the naughty step for that! You're a bad boy!!!!!

God Johnny we need you and your kindness. 😭 Britta going to Johnny because she can trust him to help her not hurt anyone. THAT'S WHAT BRITTA NEEDS!!! someone nice, dependable, kind, with her best interest at heart! Not some fucking egocentric, selfish, uncaring, manipulative, toxic, horrible, teringhond of a man who would try to manipulate her into a bloodbond and then let her wander the halls alone when he knows thst she'd be scared and upset!

Johnny and Neil taking care of Britta. 😭 This is the content we need.

I'm sorry, he won't even give her the time to feed???? I swear!!!!

I love how much this coterie cares for each other and takes care of each other.

It's delightful to see the justicar and Pendragon squabbling over the coterie.

I think there is a chance that Wynn might be more than the justicar bargained for.

What does the thermos do???? Omg she is bloodbound through the thermos? I thought the whole thing was that you needed to feed directly from the source.

[more-than-tender-curiosity]

1, 3, 14

well this is hard from a ficwriting perspective because i don't read other people's fic unless it's HEAVILY HEAVILY vetted (because I trust NOBODY but my inner circle at this point/i don't want to risk accidentally lifting an idea) but like. in terms of general characterization I think people forget or just don't know how much of a liar nick really fucking is. oh my god. there's a whole scene in the Princeton draft describing jay and daisy's first kiss and then he goes "actually I made that up. gatsby really just said she reminded him of better days" like? motherfucker? so like I don't think people really understand the depth to which nick really and truly is unreliable.

3. im not trying to hurt any feelings. so I will. generalize. but it's usually when someone goes off on a rant about a Very Obvious Problem in tgg (antisemitism, racism, classism, etc) but then like...their evidence is just Wrong. like they're half remembering something they might be mad about just to get the rush of people agreeing with them. yes this novel is half composed of bullshit nonsense a mentally ill white man in 1925 would come up with. but at least get your goddamn facts straight. gracious. they're right there. read the book again. it's not even 50k words. get a grip.

14. again i don't really read fic because I. obviously. value the canon very much (in terms of how it can be used transformatively) and have. unreasonably high standards. but one thing I just. can FEEL in my bones. i know it's happening. good god. i can just. smell it. is people overusing 'old sport'. I'm. you guys realize that's something jay uses to distance himself with, right? it's like. a way to keep people at arm's length so they don't get too friendly with him and I don't know maybe get concerned and try to stop him? even though . again. according to the Princeton draft. he so desperately wants someone to care enough to stop him. POINT BEING. if nick and jay have explored each other's bodies I don't think jay's still calling him old sport on a regular basis. i can see it for like. Out in Public's sake or as a joke or something but good christ I can just. smell the old sport every two sentences. i know it's happening. it has to be.

[sargentsblu]

Nancy needs space and distance to cope with her heartbreak and Ace needs to feel that everything is just as it used to be - back to being friends.

It's fucking infuriating being in Nancy's shoes and trying to distance yourself physically from someone who you still love but that broke your heart and have them not understand and be angry at you. It's heartbreaking seeing them trying to act like nothing happened because it makes you wonder if maybe they didn't feel it as much as you did ("did you not feel what i felt?" "you seem to have forgotten that you're the one who broke my heart") and if maybe they're not hurting as much as you are. And I do think she is right in keeping her distance because you can only distance yourself emotionally when you distance yourself physically from someone

And for that reason, I have to say that up until the end of the episode I was pissed at Ace too.

But I can understand his side now and it is also infuriating because he loves her so much he is not willing to risk her life and he can't understand how him trying to protect her makes her push him away like this ("you're not the only one who lost the love of their life" "real love isn't dying for each other") because that's not what love is like for him and it breaks my goddamn heart because I don't think either of them could see the extent of the other's pain before this episode and they're both hurting so so much and have very different copping mechanisms and honestly I feel like the way they chose to deal with all this was going to end up breaking them even more (love turned into heartbreak turned into anger turned into absolute nothing) on the long run and I'm glad they talked it out instead of pushing it to the worst extent.

I do hope we get to see things a little lighter in the next episode, though I don't know just how much they'll have recovered from this conversation.

[multi-lefaiye]

also what's up with the wyll/eden/astarion polycule, how'd that happen

:3c hehehe

okay so to be clear this polycule exists only in my brain/the bg3 fic i wanna write and not in the actual campaign. but it means a lot to me and makes brain go brrrr

i like to imagine this polycule starting as like... wyll and astarion each separately develop romantic feelings for eden, and they have to figure out how they want to navigate that. i want to respect the fact that, in the game, wyll specifically says he's not interested in a polyamorous relationship, so this is kind of like... a what-if scenario for a situation where i think that might be something he'd be interested in.

because i don't think this is something any of them sought out, it just kinda. happened with time.

wyll and eden get together first, having their sweet slowburn romance over the course of the adventure. and, y'know, they really care about and support each other, and it's nice to see love blooming in such a dark, scary time.

but there's this pervasive sense among the party that they're fighting a losing battle. can they really do anything to change the world, after all they've seen? sure, they're not gonna stop trying--gods know eden is a determined son of a bitch and won't back down if he thinks there's even a minuscule chance of making a difference.

but it's wearing on them, and even though eden keeps going, it's clearly wearing on him, too. there's so much going wrong, it feels like, all the goddamn time. when does it end?

then... towards the middle of act 2, wyll picks up on something he's been subconsciously aware of, but hasn't acknowledged: the very clear feelings astarion is developing for eden. the two have always butt heads, but there's an underlying affection between them that catches his attention. and, sure, he's confident that eden isn't going to be unfaithful or leave him, but at the same time it does make him nervous.

does astarion have something he doesn't? does eden *want* him the way he wants wyll? is wyll prepared to potentially have to share eden, or lose him? he doesn't think he wants the answers to those questions.

this is something in the back of his mind for a few weeks, and he finds himself watching eden and astarion a bit more closely. eden does pick up on it eventually and asks him what's wrong, but he lies and says that nothing's wrong. why would there be?

then, wyll gets *severely* hurt in a battle, nearly dying in the process. and eden fucking *loses it*. he manages to save wyll's life, but it's still gonna take time for his injuries to heal. and that makes something click in wyll's brain: there is a very real chance he won't survive this journey, that even eden's determination to claw them out of hell might not be enough to save all of them. and, if he dies, what happens then? what happens to eden?

so, wyll, the self-sacrificing bastard he is, decides that, if he dies, then someone needs to stick around for eden. and... well, if he's right, and astarion does want eden romantically, then maybe he'll fit the bill. the same day he decides that, he seeks astarion out to talk to him and tell him, hey, if i don't survive this, i want you to take care of eden.

and astarion... does not react well. he seems deeply uncomfortable with this whole conversation, especially when he's always been sure that wyll hates him. he doesn't deny having an interest in eden, but he tells wyll off for being so willing to disregard himself in this situation (and also eden's feelings, too!). bold of him to assume eden wouldn't tear the world apart for him if it came to that.

as astarion says this, wyll picks up on a note of what seems like bitterness in the vampire's voice, as though he's resigned *himself* to the role of quietly pining from the shadows, never having the closeness he actually *wants* here, not having eden care about *him* as much as he does wyll.

basically, this whole conversation gives wyll a lot to think about.

and okay i'll admit i haven't ironed out all the details from there, but i know that astarion joins the relationship wayyy down the line from there, definitely sometime in act 3. it's not something they really sit down to discuss at first, though they do down the line when they have a moment to breathe.

i DO know that i want there to be a moment where like... *eden* is the one in peril this time, and astarion and wyll have a Moment while they're rushing to save him where it really clicks for them that... oh. yeah. at the end of the day, they both care about him, and maybe that *is* enough. they can both protect him and keep him happy, if he so chooses.

the dynamic is like. eden is dating both wyll and astarion, though wyll and astarion aren't dating each other. they might consider it at some point, but i don't think it's something they'd really want to go for.

and i'll be honest that i'm not sure if this particular dynamic would *work* long-term. maybe it could! maybe not! but it at least works for the moment they're in, even if it's rocky at times. eden has two hands.

the dynamic in my brain is like... wyll and astarion both love and care deeply about eden. eden loves and cares deeply about both of them. they team up to keep their little devil safe and in their arms, so they don't lose him as he throws himself into danger to protect them.

(also i know this isn't going much into eden's perspective, but i will be honest i'm a bit self conscious about how long this got lmao. another time, perhaps. idk idk i just love them so much)

[bengiyo]

Me, My Husband & My Husband's Boyfriend Eps 1 -5 Stray Thoughts

This is an unusual release schedule, giving us five episodes now and five more later. Still, I'm curious what TV Tokyo does with this, since they also gave me What Did You Eat Yesterday?

Episode 1

Man, Japan just really knows how to start a show. You can feel the strained optimism of this poor woman in just 30 seconds.

This has barely started and I feel claustrophobic. Misaki's friends have no idea how unhappy she is, and what is this incredibly pained look she shared only with Maki?

Oh, they may have been in lesbians with each other. This is already fraught queer angst.

Ah, it feels like it might have been just Maki.

You know someone is up to something when they fake sleep when their partner comes into the room.

That's right, girl. Blog your problems.

I tell you, I hoped I would avoid teen pregnancy when I was a teacher. I was wrong.

Poor Masaki. She and Yuki are just not in alignment when it comes to intimacy. Now she only has one day a year to look forward to for marital sex??

Nice use of Dutch angles when Masaki sees the kiss.

Episode 2

My goodness, this was an intense opening scene in how Misaki immediately starts to try to suppress everything and bargain her way into an explanation that doesn't spell the end of her marriage. Yuki doesn't lie, but he's already hurt her deeply.

I hope that's not the product placement we're throwing away.

I'm so sad about this nice dinner going to waste.

I agree with Misaki that what happens next with their relationship should be her choice, considering he's been making lots of choices without her for a while.

The coworker seems kind. She can tell that Misaki is masking.

Yo this old dude shoulder checked the fuck out of her.

I was not expecting to see Honda Kyoya again so soon after Jack o' Frost, but I'm not going to complain. However, if Shyuuhei is an artist like Ritsu was, this offers up a fascinating lens into a potentially alternative story.

It is correct of Misaki to put distance between a student who expresses romantic interest in her.

This is a lot. I feel for Misaki. Not only does she need to reckon with the fact that her husband is gay and seeing someone else. She also has to contend with it being her former student who still wants to be with her, who knows that he's been hooking up with her husband.

The transitional shot after Misaki's hyperventilating looks like it might be in the same spot as the intro for Midnight Diner.

Through sheer confidence and will alone, Shyuuhei is going to get both of them.

Misaki leaving to probably go to Maki is valid, though I feel bad for Maki, too.

Episode 3

I already like Daichi and the house dynamic Maki and he share.

I was kinda excited about what changing homes might do for Misaki, but I appreciate her wanting to clear things with Yuki first.

I wonder if Yuki might be aro-ace spectrum. Seems like he wasn't aware of his potential attraction to men before he married Misaki?

Honda Kyoya is honestly so pretty.

Look at this, TV Tokyo has me watching a man and woman kiss and such in BL when I got none of this in What Did You Eat Yesterday? They're even open mouth kissing when the men haven't done so! I'm salty!

And here I was hoping that it really was just a pregnancy scare. Now Satou hasn't been coming to school.

I'm gonna need Masaki to go out with this veteran teacher.

What is the truth with Satou!

Shyuuhei is with Satou, too? And he went in her raw? She said he was only a year older, so is he 19? GODDAMN

Someone is always spying and taking goddamn pictures! You just gonna anonymously meddle? Own your actions!

Episode 4

Trigger warnings: Discussion and prevention of suicide in this episode.

This is so messy. Shyuuhei has such a hold over Yuki, who doesn't desire his wife physically at all.

Daichi's family's apples are enormous.

What is she to do with all these apples?

Oh, Yuki, I really just can't with the continued lies. Something has to give.

Is the spy the other teacher who wanted to get a beer?

Well, Shyuuhei is way out of line, but he's not wrong about Misaki's marriage.

Ah, the spy was the other teacher, whose name is Misumi. At least she's confronting him with her qualms.

Interposing the conversation with Misumi and the interview with a woman talking about her gay husband's death makes the point loud and clear.

I think Honda Kyoya is well-cast here. He has an ethereal quality that I think works really well for Shyuuhei.

Wanting to disappear is a question I get on mental health surveys, and Shyuuhei seems way too comfortable talking about suicide.

Episode 5

Trigger warnings: Discussion and prevention of suicide in this episode.

I'm really glad we saw Honda Kyoya in Jack o' Frost first. I find myself wanting to dig into this performance just as much as I want to understand the character. Polyamory is hard; I don't think I'm built for it. I like how sympathetic they're making Shyuuhei feel through his earnestness, even if he's giving me red flags in so many other areas.

This scene of the first meet between Yuki and Shyuuhei is making me sad, because I don't think we've seen Yuki be this intent on Misaki.

Okay, taking them to a place to disconnect briefly is much better than where I thought this was going.

Misaki suggesting they all live together was an excellent scene. The way the camera pans through her dialogue from her being alone, to her and Yuki, to her and Shyuuhei, to finally all three of them works so beautifully. Then having her be nervous and struggling to crack an egg perfectly underscores her uncertainty.

I love Misaki. I'm glad we're letting her uncomfortable feelings come through clearly. This isn't the life she thought she was getting, but she's trying to make the best of a difficult situation.

Furukawa Yuki is so good. I remember again why Restart After Coming Back Home sticks with me as we see the range he's shown this episode.

I like the ground rules Misaki established. They don't realistically expect Shyuuhei to help with expenses now, but she wants to make sure he's contributing to the maintenance tasks and is at least working in his field.

Hotta Akane is also doing a great job. She completely performed the complex nervousness, relief, and bemusement she felt at seeing Yuki clearly relaxed in the house again for the first time in a while, and also the strange sense of attraction she felt at Shyuuhei expressing his feelings to her again.

Final Thoughts at the Midpoint

I think it was an excellent call to release this show in two batches. It's covering some complex emotional places that I don't think the audience would be able to take in stride each week for two months. Giving us the chance to go through this at our own pace and trying to connect with the characters feels like the right call.

I'm looking forward to the back half of this, and I find myself hoping that however they all end up, they all find what they need for their own sense of fulfillment.