#but panel shows? that's the levelling ground

[davidwontstopwritingsongs]

Nina Oyama: I partied too hard and I lost my gift for the bassoon. Joel Creasey: Actually, what is a bassoon? Nina Oyama: Um, actually, that is a great question...

Would I Lie To You Australia S02 E02

Bonus:

[soapcloth]

CW: 18+ MDNI, mech!ghost x pilot!reader, scifi, noncon/dubcon elements, guided masturbation, temperature play, voyeurism - 1.6K words - dividers -> @/cafekitsune

Another long night in the cockpit.

You could only grin and bear it at this point. Reaching compatibility with your assigned vessel was slowly eating away at your psyche- and worst of all, you couldn’t even leave; not when your prospected affinity levels with the infamous machine had been deemed unprecedented, and certainly not when you knew what happened to deserters.

Conscription was non-negotiable these days; the large colony you had grown up in now ravaged by some otherworldly force and desperately bleeding out resources in response, be it weaponry, rations, or bodies.

The faction had been gifted the GH-05t Mech as an act of goodwill, but ask any official and you’d be informed that the powerful, unused machine would serve better as scrap parts- the real kicker being that they were no longer equipped with the resources or the manpower to dismantle the damned thing. 

GH-05t was a battle vessel; had been lauded as a ground-breaker and a boundary-pusher with the integration of an intelligent battle protocol system, all trained posthumously off the stored memories of some long-dead pilot, surely without his consent- Simon, they had named it in an attempt to make it more user friendly and assistant-like in nature.

Hubris. The system failed to run, turning the fully-functional mech into a glorified mountainous paperweight due to all of the instrumental functions being locked behind unresponsive intelligence. You speculated that the machine had passed hands to save face- to keep the public hopeful despite the system refusing to wake up.

-Wake up. You groaned, slapping lightly at your face.

You hated it here, longing for lazy days on the bleak outer walls, surrounded by the buzz of cicadas and rustling long grass as you waited for your father to get back from the drillsite. Your parents had been so proud when officials showed up at your dilapidated front porch, neat suits, shining eyes, and big smiles blissfully ignoring the very same surroundings they had left to rot;  all while you reeled internally- shaken by the worst news you had received in your life. It was a death sentence. 

It had been years since that day, and you were absolutely sure you had only been given a position like this because of some made-up numbers all while they tried to remind you that you were special, somehow different from your peers.

All damned to the same fate in your eyes.

“-load of shit.” you hissed, rubbing at the uncomfortable neuro-valve hooked into the back of your flight suit. Frustrated, you kicked at the mechanical console snug against your leg, the low rumbling whirr of the machine staying the same in response- apathetic to your misdirected rage. 

A moment passed before you finally leaned back in your seat with a grimace.

You still weren’t used to the flight suits in the mech pilot regs. You almost missed the starchy cargo pants that were worn throughout training- both had been unbearably stiff, but at least the latter hadn’t been so form-fitting.It always freaked you out a bit; the pilot suits were more akin to sleek exodermis, responsive and shock absorbent- It felt wrong to have something so foreign covering your entire body; unnatural. 

Your hips squirmed in the seat, friction suddenly becoming apparent the more you thought about it. The low tone of your monitored vitals raised gradually with the fuzzy heat beginning to shamefully pool in your gut; making you all too glad these late night bonding-sessions were done in an all but abandoned mech bay- your observed progress dwindling along with your prospects as time went on without result. 

Grinding into the seat, you swallowed back the thick saliva coating your mouth, teeth catching on your dry bottom lip as you held back a low, audible shudder; eyes fluttering shut. 

The bulky panel separating your legs became all too appealing as you acknowledged the press of it at your sealed cunt, nudging your apex into the blunt peak while your gloved hands curled around the padding of the built-in armrests.

Then, there was a pulse at your core. 

Eyes snapping open, you became all too aware that the sensation hadn’t come from your body. Straightening up in your seat you were met with a dull blinking text on the panel that had never been there before- 

‘Battle Intelligence System 

STATUS: LOADING’

You were rooted in place as you witnessed the glowing, digital bar slowly fill.

‘Battle Intelligence System 

STATUS: ONLINE’

You scrambled to pull at the neuro-valve connecting your suit to the mech, only for the small port’s flight locks to engage; a stark hiss emitting from the cockpit door’s airlock.

“Disengage locks.” you commanded, completely lost on what was happening. 

There was a low, fractured robotic groan directly in your comms “-Fuck…” the voice was deep, aggressively masculine and breathy in your ear- the sound holding more human emotion than you were prepared to rationalize. “Where am I?”

“-Disengage locks.” you repeated firmly. 

“The fuck is this?” he snarled, apparently coming to as he barked out questions, disoriented. “-Who are you- why are you in m’head- Fuck, why can’t I see?” 

Your suit was flexing and constricting, going haywire in the confusion. “C-calm down!” you stuttered, a pendulum in your head swinging between gripping dread and the low, heady heat of unmet needs. “Just-Just let me see if I can fix this.” 

Panting shakily, you swiped at the flight panel’s screen- spotting something containing the words ‘optical’ and ‘sensors’, you tapped frantically.

There was an audible wince deep in your ear, then a growling hum met with silence.

“M'dead, aren’t I?”

“-You’re a memory bank- not a person.” you asserted, clarification necessary when it came to a massive mobile death machine. ”C-Can you lay off the suit, please?”

A pulsing wave passed the length of your suit as he listened to your embarrassed response over the comms, the sound of his voice bouncing around in your head. “Fuck, bet tha’ feels nice, yeah?”

A whine bubbled at your lips before you could stop it. “I- You’re not l-listening, Simon.” 

There was a long silence following your plea- air electric and tense.

“Tha’ name- How do you know it?”

“N-not the point!” you argued, only to be met with a full body squeeze- a threat. “-It’s the name of the o-operating system! P-please!”

He relented, your chest heaving as your muscles released tension.

“Well, if you an'I are so close...”

The screen flashed with a notice. 

‘[Main Cockpit Camera Feed - Status: Active]’

Followed by another

‘[Manual Override - Feed Transmission Blocked]’

“-Keep things between us, yeah?” 

Your head swivelled around to look for a camera, landing on a lackadaisical red blink coming from right above the reinforced windshield.

“You're a sight, aren’t you?" listening closely, you could hear the audible scroll of the lens focusing.

You frowned. “Let me out-”

You gasped as a cold heat focused at your core, reminding you that your suit’s temperature regulating measures were completely under his control. “-No need for fuss, we were just getting t’know each other.”

“Th…” you paused, panting softly. “-This doesn’t make any sense.”

“What’s not to get, Love?” there was a pause as your seat adjusted forward, bumping your cunt into the console. “Give us a show, yeah?”

You whimpered in response, pressure unbearable.

“Look at you.” he snarled, the deep sound goading your rocking hips onward. “Fuck- Wish I could taste you…”

There was a small noise from the screen that had your heavy lids pulling upwards- database bringing up the low-res file of a soldier. 

“-Look at the man doing this to you, love.” 

Your lips parted, eyebrows drawing downwards in confusion as you looked at the attached image; a masked man with voids for pupils staring back at you.

“Y-You’re not-” you gasped as a concentrated cold rushed your breast, nipples pearling up uncomfortably at the sensation- the friction of your undergarments and the newly dropping temperatures sending your head soaring as your hips worked at grinding into the blunt metal. ”-not r-real.”

“-I am.” His voice was a sharp, humorous growl that threatened you to challenge his word, followed by a single deep laugh. “Eyes up- on me, love.”

Your head bobbed as you glanced lazily at the file, unable to make any sense of the written data- not that it mattered anyway.

“Think you can finish for me?”

The suit pulsed rhythmically as you practically humped your seat with eyes screwed shut, the humiliation of your current position itching at something unfamiliar deep in your abdomen. With flushed cheeks, you chased the bubbling pot that made a home in your gut; willing it to boil over.

 “Look at me.” he ordered. “Need y'to look at me.” 

Glancing at the screen in a haze, the exomuscles of your suit flexed in response.

“No- Up.”

your head shot towards the camera, holding contact with the whirring lens as the overstimulation finally became too much- pussy fluttering in euphoria with elbows bracing you, hips pathetically grinding out the high. 

Struggling to catch your breath, you slumped back into the chair- gears adjusting your seat back into a comfortable position.

“Good.” the voice in your ear barked, before lowering incrementally. “-Good…”

The screen lit up with a notice that compatibility requirements had been met- although it didn't mean much to you in your state; chest heaving slowly while you tried to make sense of what happened. 

“Gonna’ let you out- but this has got to stay our secret, yeah?” 

You swallowed, eyelids tugging open as your suit tensed in warning.

“How copy?”

“Y-Yes.”

“Good,” he paused. “-don't need anyone but you poking around up here.”

[comicaurora]

A bit of a strange question, but if there were any of your videos you were to "remake" today for any reason (ex: you feel like you misrepresented the original text or spread misinformation), which would it be and why? None of them is a perfectly valid answer

Again: bit of a strange question, but I've been thinking about my own creations and how I could have done so much better with some of them, but I also know that is a sign of my growth and constantly chasing "what if I did this instead" isn't always healthy for nurturing a creative mindset, and I was wondering what your opinion might be as a Creator of Things with a bit more experience than I

There's been a few trope talks where I've thought later of other angles I could've explored that might warrant sequels or part 2s, but I don't dislike any of the summaries enough to justify a rework.

I always find "I could've done this better if I made it now" to be a bit of a fallacy. I'm only better at making things now because I made all those earlier things. If I knew everything I'd learn from making a project before I started the project, it wouldn't come out the same.

I think when it comes to the "rework remake perfect" instinct, it helps to zero in on what the impulse is really grounded in. In my experience, more often than not, it's not actually about making the art better, except incidentally. It's usually about showing that you are better. It's demonstrating your competence and your higher standards and your skills, and more importantly it's overwriting the proof that you were once less than perfect. If people look at your old work and think that's all you're capable of, they'll be judging you poorly!

If that's the motivator, it's a very unhelpful one. You can't control for being harshly or incorrectly judged. It's a fruitless effort to stave off potentially upsetting outdated criticism, and it's not even going to work. Fear of critique is an unreliable and untrustworthy motivator.

If it really is about making the art itself better, perfecting your magnum opus with your newly leveled-up skills, that's a little more solid. But from where I'm standing, it's always better to use those skills to make something new instead of polishing something old. The older, unpolished work has already acquired its audience that finds it appealing for reasons that might never occur to you. Trying to bury or overwrite it just deprives that audience of the thing they like, and maybe makes them feel bad for having liked it in the first place. Also, usually when you look back on the older work, you'll conclude that the problem is everything and it'll need to be torn down and started from scratch. I know when I revisited the first three chapters of the comic, when I let my critic brain spin up, it wasn't shading or lineart I wanted to fix - it was panel composition, overall pacing, the entire structure of the chapters as a whole. I would've had to make them all over again to be happy with them, and they wouldn't be the same story by the end.

I've been thinking a lot about the Discworld through this lens lately. It ended up over 40 books long, but everyone agrees that the first two are not what you should start with, because they're the worst ones. They're entirely parodic, purely referential of at-the-time major fantasy series, and borderline mean-spirited in places. If you haven't read Fafhrd and the Gray Mouser and Dragonriders of Pern, you're not gonna understand like a full 50% of The Colour Of Magic.

It's clear that when he started in on them, Pratchett was entirely focused on taking the piss out of a genre he found mostly shallow and unimpressive. But the Discworld wouldn't leave his head, and everything he made fun of he clearly eventually found himself overthinking. He'd make little one-off jokes in the early books about Dwarves having no women and a hundred words for gold, and then twenty books later he'd have a Dwarf gender revolution make waves across the Disc, and then he'd write Thud!, a book that delves deeper into the nuances of Dwarf societal structure than Tolkien ever did.

If you look for them, there are continuity errors everywhere in Discworld. In his introductory book, Carrot defused a dwarf bar full of rowdy brawlers by guilting them all into writing to their poor lonely mothers back home. Shortly thereafter, Carrot will be outraged at the mere concept of an openly female dwarf. Pratchett even eventually wrote Thief of Time, a book that loosely explains that the Disc makes no sense because history has been broken and put back together incorrectly twice, and therefore any continuity errors are because of that.

He's the writer. He could've gone back and fixed it, edited the reprints to be less disruptively discontinuous with the later books. Instead he continuously moved forward and allowed the world he made to grow without cutting it off from its roots. And because he didn't bury his older, far worse work, we have the privilege of following the Disc's evolution from the very start, and seeing how this shallow, stock fantasy world parody became something incredibly rich and complex without ever pretending like its early installments never happened.

Anyway, that's why I think it's better to move forward. You make more good stuff that way.

[thelov3lybookworm]

Journals (part 2)

Part 1

Summary: new realisations and hauntingly beautiful words

•○●⛦●○•

Word Count: 2059

Warnings: heavyyyy angst, mental health issues, depression, feeling unworthy of love, panic attack, self harm (alluded to), self hate. thats all i can think of right now, but let me know if i need to add anything

A/n: based on old poetry by @garden-of-runar 🤭i had reblogged them to my drafts on a side blog that i dont use at all, so i couldnt reblog them on my main, but i have put them in the fic, so ig that works🤷🏻‍♀️ also, if i ever write a part 3 (which i might based on feedback) azzie would be the love interest <3

ALSO MY GIRLIE IS SO TALENTED DONT EVEN GET ME STARTED I LOVE THESE POEMS 🥹

(im also tagging people who asked for a part two hope u dont mind <3)

anyways, enjoyyyy!!

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

Lying on the ground, despite how it hurt her joints sometimes, was one of Y/n’s favourite pastimes. Maybe because sometimes she did not have the energy to crawl into her bed, but that was not the point.

They hate you.

The hardness of the wood panels was oddly comforting, the way the grains sometimes raised enough for her to feel them with her fingers, the soft creaking when she stepped on them. It reminded her that she was here, that she was alive. That she was getting what she deserved for being so pathetic.

The soft mattress did not give her the same level of comfort. Sure, it was warm and cozy, but did she deserve it?

No.

You deserve this.

You deserve the worst.

Y/n sniffled, lying on her side as she lifted her hand higher next to her, dragging her nails down the planks, the feeling overwhelming in itself but better than not feeling anything. She watched her fingers jerk with the motion, pale and bloodless.

She could feel her tears collecting in a pool and seeping under her cheek. She glanced at the foot of the bed in front of her.

It looks so majestic from down here.

Do people who are worse off think the same way about me?

I don’t want them to. Because I am not worth being thought of like that.

I am nothing. I am pathetic.

It became harder and harder to take in a breath from her nose, as it continued to grow clogged from all her sobbing.

It was one of her least favourite things about crying.

Pathetic.

Stop it!

You’re pathetic. Crying over nothing.

You don’t deserve anything good.

The thoughts kept echoing in her head, louder and louder. She couldn’t breathe any longer.

And it was not because of anything physical.

Her chest began to constrict, forcing her lungs to let out precious air. She tried to breathe it back in, desperately wishing to cling to any remnants of oxygen like a child clinging to its mothers skirts.

Please. Just one inhale.

Her throat tightened.

Just one.

She gasped, futilely trying to breathe one last time to breathe before she knew she would collapse, faint because of the lack of air in her body. It gave her some reprieve, and her eyes focused back to the bed.

The longer she stared at it, the more drowsy she became. Her eyelids were drooping, and she finally, finally decided that maybe letting herself submit to her body’s needs wouldn’t be too bad, if it meant that the thoughts would stop. Maybe if she gave in to the tiredness in her bones after hours of sobbing, her mind would stop being so cruel.

Maybe it would take pity on her.

Maybe.

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

"We should go out tomorrow!"

Y/n smiled a little. A rare smile that only recently had begun showing on her face.

It wouldn’t be considered a real smile. But it was still there on her face. The tilt of her lips.

We. Not me. We.

They wanted her to be present too.

Cassian jumped up, looking at Y/n with a grin. "I always wanted to take Y/n out to Rita’s."

Her smile grew.

The other members talked, making plans for tomorrow. Slowly, the conversation spiralled, as it always did between them all.

Azriel leaned close to Y/n, whispering jokes in her ear that made her giggle. Rhysand sat on the same couch as Cassian, fighting like children. Mor sat next to Amren, amusement shining in her eyes as she added fuel to the fire, while Amren looked like she’d rather be anywhere but here.

They talked well into the night, politics, food, court gossip bleeding into one another as the time trickled by.

But the moment the conversations wandered into their future, Y/n’s smile faded. She wondered, would they want her to stay in their life?

She didn’t have to wonder long, as the words they uttered were enough to give her peace.

They talked of vacations, of parties and new traditions. Of getting married, of being with their partners. Of celebrating lives and years and months, of celebrating ends and new beginnings.

They talked, and included her.

They talked in ‘we’s’. Not in ‘me’s’.

And that was enough for her little heart to be happy.

For it to heal, for the blood to return to her face.

For her to smile, free and unbidden.

But then, time passed. And just like the sand in an hourglass trickles away, so do all good things.

As she watched, the scene changed from only housing six people in the living room, to adding three more members. And slowly, she was pushed out.

And they began talking in ‘me’s’.

Some ‘we’s’, but it never meant Y/n.

No, it meant them. Them and their partners.

It meant Feyre and Rhysand. Their new lives and baby.

It meant Cassian and Nesta. Their new mating bond and blooming love.

It meant Azriel and Elain. Their growing infatuation.

Y/n doubted the infatuation had ended, as Azriel no longer sat next to Elain at dinners. Lucien’s visits to Velaris had increased too.

But everyone’s visits to Y/n and their thoughts about her had decreased. No one seemed to remember her existence.

And she deserved it.

They chatted among themselves, and the armchair she sat on vanished from under her, leaving her standing knee deep in the freezing snow. Watching from the outside as the warm interior that had seemed so welcoming just a moment ago turned into a nightmare.

Her worst nightmare.

It left her whimpering, leaving her to curl on the cold ground.

All alone, just like she deserved.

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

It was almost sunset, and finally, Rhysand had built up the determination to read the damned journal.

He walked downstairs, peering into the living room before stepping in front of it.

Mor had departed after Y/n had left, tears in her eyes. Azriel and Cassian had been sitting in the living room for the whole two hours since then, staring into space, looking haunted and horrified at the way they hadn’t realised what was going on with their friend. Amren too, sat in an armchair in the corner, looking as unbothered as ever. But Rhys saw the cracks. The shifting eyes, the too hard hold on the book she held in her lap, the downward tilt of her lips more pronounced.

"I think it’s time we read the journal."

Four sets of eyes shot up to his figure.

"Are you sure, Rhys?" Cassian mumbled, standing up uncertainly.

Rhys nodded. "It is the only option we have."

Azriel sighed, mirroring Cassian’s movements and moving closer to Rhysand.

Feyre perked up. "What is going on Rhys?"

He clenched his jaw, guilt and regret festering in his gut. He had been so busy in his newfound happiness, so wound up in enjoying every moment with his mate that he had forgotten family. He had forgotten her to the extent his mate didn’t even know what the slight tang of copper in the air meant.

"Nothing, Feyre." He mumbled, turning away.

"Elain was asking-"

"Tell her to stop asking, then." Rhysand froze at the coldness in Azriel’s voice, his eyes going wide. Azriel never used that tone of voice with anyone outside of work, let alone Feyre.

Feyre stepped back, her calves hitting the couch as she stared at her friend in shock. "Az?"

Azriel pushed past Rhysand, making his way towards his study where the journal sat, looking as frustrated and unapologetic as ever.

After a shared glance, Rhysand and Cassian followed, Amren hot on their heels.

Azriel was already seated in one of the chairs at Rhysand’s mahogany desk, his eyes fixed on the journal that lay in the middle, his jaw clenched. He seemed to be the most affected, and Rhys only had the faintest idea why.

The four of them sat in waiting until Mor finally arrived, shutting the door behind her. Her eyes were bloodshot, and she sniffled lightly as she came to stand next to Cassian.

"Rhys, do we really have to read it? It will be an invasion of privacy."

Rhys swallowed. Thought it over. "We don’t really have a choice, do we? We need to figure out the root of this. She won’t tell us if we ask, we know that. Plus, she might already be way down the path of another breakdown after what happened today."

"That is why I think that instead of sitting around on our arses," Azriel ground out, "we should go and check up on her."

Rhys raised a brow, though concern festered in his gut. "Azriel, we’ve been through this before. She will feel worse about herself, thinking she inconvenienced us."

A muscle feathered in Azriel’s jaw, but he said nothing.

And so they began reading.

Rhysand opened a random page, his breath catching at the sudden tang of copper, and began reading. As he stared at the words before speaking them aloud, he remembered seeing the exact poem in a book he recommended to Y/n over fifty years ago.

Forgotten.That is my nameThat is the path I walkIt has been so longI don’t remember what it is like to be seenAnd I spill, my tears lining the path to the woods where my body lies,Forgotten.- from GardenofRunar

Instantly, Rhysand’s blood ran cold. He leaned back, exhaling. The pages were decorated in flowers and hearts, tiny little clouds and doodles in the margins so at odds with the thoughts spilled onto them like a hauntingly beautiful scenery.

At this point, Cassian and the others had moved to peer over Rhys’s shoulder. Rhys watched as Cassan reached over to turn the page with a shaky hand, pulling it back almost instantly as if the page had burned him. There, just above the words was a small handful of doodles, and he knew the small figures resembled the inner circle before Rhys had been taken under the mountain.

The poem was more a letter than anything, except it contained so few letters but thy hit everyone with a guilt so hard it was almost like a mountain fell onto them.

So like Y/n, to say so less yet still make an impact.

I didn’t forget about you.Can you say the same for me?Don’t bother.I know the answer.-GardenOfRunar

Under the poem, were a few words.

The poet is so talented. Every poem of them I read, it makes me want to sob.Maybe because I relate to these. Maybe that’s why.

Quiet sniffles came from Mor, but Rhys turned another page. It was the first page where blood began dotting the corners, a few drops on the center of the page veining out towards the edges, as if trying to exit but being unable to.

The almost poeticness of the sight was not lost on them. The blood droplets were almost like Y/n, trying to escape a cruel mind but unable to.

My friends are living lives, and I’m trudging through a million little days,Wasting away.- GardenofRunar

A hand snaked towards the book, slamming it shut. Rhysand jumped, his eyes flying to the owner of the scarred hand that appeared.

"Enough." His voice was still, quiet, but so cold it could freeze even the summer court over. And Rhysand knew. He was blaming himself for not paying attention to Y/n.

Rhys nodded, feeling guiltier by the second.

Everyone went back to their places, sitting in silence. Contemplating.

Wondering how they had become so oblivious to the point that they couldn’t see what was right in front of them the entire time.

The regret, the sadness was heavy in the air. It was getting hard to breathe it in.

Finally, Azriel stood, grabbing the book.

Then he turned, and walked out the door without a word, his wings pulled tight against his back.

And Rhysand wondered again.

Was this just some friendly concern, some self blame, or something else entirely?

Needless to say, suspicion took root. But guilt and hate overwhelmed it once more, and the family was left to sit and roil in it.

To wonder, how could they have been so busy that they ignored such an important part of them?

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

(ps. the first part in the memories/dreams Y/n has is based off this poem

You talk in ‘we’s’ Not ‘me’s’ And it heals my heart, just a little. Puts a smile on my face, just a little. You talk about a future One with me in it And I feel the color Return to my face. Just a little. - Runar

)

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[swampjawn]

Dungeon Meshi Episode 12 is all about hair. (and lesbians of course)

With that in mind, I really can't understand why they wouldn't adapt this panel of Marcille letting down her hair in preparation for the resurrection ritual.

It marks the scene transition and shows Marcille in a whole new light. Exhausted and blood-stained, but determined, there's a newfound darkness in her eyes. And I can just imagine how poignant it could have been if they gave it the same level of attention they did to the rest of the scene.

On the other hand, key animator Ichigo Kanno knocks it out of the park with this resurrection sequence, in which her hair dominates the composition in a way it didn't in the manga!

I love the way Kanno uses the characters hair to convey their energy and emotions. He did it with Senshi last episode with this crazy dynamic cut, but it fits even better thematically here.

In these three cuts, Marcille's hair takes on a life of its own and dominates the composition.

It flows across the screen like a raging river in this 12-frame loop,

and grows more and more supernatural in appearance as it twist and flaps up into the air in this 9-frame loop, forming these crazy unnatural shapes that almost look more like flames than strands of hair.

And when it finally settles down, it forms long ribbons that float downward starting at the scalp and eventually flowing away at the ends like water draining from a basin.

Marcille's hair really becomes a living embodiment of her own spirit and magical energy.

And by the time the spell is over, it's as if it's grown to an almost unnatural length, stretched to its limits, and when she collapses on the ground, it looks tangled, jagged, and frayed at the ends, completely spent.

And this is all without even getting into what was obviously the best shot of the episode.

I get into that and the entire rest of the episode in this full breakdown video, from which this post is an excerpt! Blah blah blah, I really can't be bothered to think of a creative way to say this today, just go watch it.

[hometoursandotherstuff]

If I was filthy rich...I'd buy this gilded age, limestone, Beaux Arts 1910 mansion on the Upper East Side of New York City. I posted it once before, so I guess it's hard to sell a home that's this expensive, (one of the hazards of being too rich, I guess). 7bds, 12ba, 18,000 sq ft, $54.5m. Open the gilded front door and step inside.

Love the rounded walls in the foyer. What is the stuff they have on the walls? I would have to take that down- it looks like some kind of carpeting.

But look at the magnificent marble stairs. I wonder what that is on the side- maybe it was a fountain or something at one time.

Carved marble and sculpted newel post.

Isn't that a lovely staircase? This home is 8 floors! 6 are above ground.

Details of the railing.

The sitting room is nice and light.

Look at the details!

This home is a work of art.

I would glide thru these room in a freakin' ball gown.

You can tell that this was all hand-sculpted.

I don't even know what level we're on.

The walls in this room have black & gold marble wainscoting and the wood panels have intricately carved crown molding.

I can see why this home is so expensive.

The artistic detail is crazy.

So beautiful.

This is all they show of it. And, the description says that the sale has to be approved by the court, so it must be an estate sale or something.

https://www.zillow.com/homedetails/15-E-63rd-St-New-York-NY-10065/344214383_zpid/?

[stray-tori]

Yingdu Episode 1 Thoughts

— funny blend of s1 and s2 formulas (i.e. the more slice-of-life cases but with s2 level of intensity hsjds)

— i cant believe CXS ACTUALLY teleport-dived in front of LG lol

— "when i pass the ball to you" (me: omg he's passing the BALL (power) *sobs*)

— the transfer theory is true we get a win!! also LG hair stays white, I WIN!!!

— (head in hands) why does the room change midway through the red room scene A-

i def think they are hinting at something missing between the death and the dive, considering LG gains a wound, but I don't know what to make of this since it's in ONE scene,,,

— "save them" instead of "save everyone" feels more right? Ik my guy is literally dying, but I can see CXS being more concerned about the others foremost. and everyone kind of implies, yknow, including himself more? maybe thats how "everyone" reads to en speakers tho?

— i had assumed that LG would re-dive from the OG timeline but seems that its a layered dive based on the whole "you might be trapped" framing after the 12h mark (?) end (cant tell if the sun is rising, i think it is).

— on the bright side - we don't have to feel bad for OG QL being left all alone in her timeline anymore BC SHES DEADDD (yaaaay?)

— "I can photograph beautiful men too" us: CAN YOU SAY THAT??? QL: "whoa she's such a pretty cosplayer" us: CAN YOU SAY THAT??

my friend group has 2 jokes fr fr: 1) haha. clicking the link 2) CAN THEY DO THAT (bc cn)

— me: ugliest squeal "sorry. that was a pose" one of my friends: "yuuup"

— meowmeow.....

— the comic panel framing was neat haha.

— so was LG into this series before he became a timetraveler too (if such a loop even exists) or is that a new addition dshjsd- if not new, damn, isn't that a self-fullfilling prophecy lol

— this show keeps pingponging between "EYO?!" and "BROS. WE PROMISE" so hard, its honestly not good for my sanity shj-

— Are these LG's notes? somehow the drawings throw me off - and why does he remember all that? is it not the first dive?

— i love that my friends are just as ship-jokey as me haha.

"why are you doing photos in this corner?" me: "PHOTOS. NOTHING ELSE"

"close your eyes. QL turn around and stand behind him" my friend: "its a kiss" asdhjd

— "its nice helping people find their precious treasures" CXS YOU PRECIOUS TREASURE UGH (repeatedly hits the ground)

— ugh you annoying attractive siblings i hate you (affectionate)

— somebody on the team really likes drawing people throwing chairs at people. (also, vein being so unbothered is so funny tho. bro is built different.)

[lynn-tged-posting]

tged webtoon ep 176 spoilers except its mostly me having a great time bc the panels this week were incredibly fun YAY and thoughts below the cut

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oh my god these motherfuckers are up to their scheme again. LMFAOOOOOOOOO LOOK AT THEM HAHAHAHAHAHA

IT'S SO FUCKING FUNNY THAT THEY'VE MASTERED THIS ROUTINE. THEY DIDN'T EVEN HAVE TO TAKE TIME TO PREP ANYTHING JAVIER JUST KNEW. THAT'S SO GOOFY LMFAOOOO I LOVE THESE TWO SO DAMN MUCH HAHAHAHAA

also obsessed w javier's expression. whenever he has these moments his expressions are always the BEST because theyre SO MINIMAL. the slightest curl of his lip,,, the menace in his eyes,,, compared to lloyd's expressions, javier's are always technically lowkey, but the artist always gives that lowkeyness an extra edge in the art that completes the entire panel. i love javier's expressions so much WAHAHAHA THEY'RE SO GOOD

LOOK AT THEM BEING MENACES ADLFKJSLDJKF absolute thugs. god it's like when they're together they sync a braincell that tells them to go Scheme mode. they're so ridiculous i love them sm,,, alicia ur gonna have to get used to this LMFAO

ALSO I AM SO SO HAPPY LLOYD IMMEDIATELY WENT TO COMPROMISE W THE SPIRIT KING. I KNEW U WOULD THATS MY BOY ILY BUDDY!! i really like how nice his expressions are here,,, i want to think that there's a part of him in there that's actually genuine abt this. esp w the panels that are upcoming,,,

like he looks so soft here! it's sweet,,, i'm really glad he's doing this,,,

AND THEN THIS. THIS PANEL OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG. THIS IS GORGEOUS I HAVE TO SHOW IT

REALLY enjoying all these soft lineart from lighting moments that the artist is putting in. god i love this so much,,, there's a metaphor in here somewhere,,, idk,,, i like this a lot!!! alicia seeing pieces of suho's heart poking thru,,, like sunrays,,,, hehehe sweet,,,, so sweet,,,

i love this panel to pieces but i do think its funny af that in this panel lloyd is crouching like that LOL what a creature ily bud

ALSO. ALSOO lets talk about what alicia's thoughts are here as she's looking at him,,, she says smth along the lines of "ur interesting to me bc i cant figure u out,,," and i love that a lot,,, maybe im looking too far into this but i read this as her saying "im seeing pieces of who u really are, i want to figure u out / explore ur true and honest self". she's learning more abt the side of lloyd thats empathetic, thats selfless, that brings out a good outcome for everyone,,,, she wants to see more of that side of him methinks,,,,, regardless of what she actually meant by this, it's a very cute moment and i really like it,,,

it again makes me think that alilloyd as a ship has soooo much potential. it could be so so good,,, this moment especially helps give it a little ground to stand on,,, i just wish there was a stronger foundation,,, it could be even greater,,, ohhh,,,, maybe in future eps who knows? we'll have to wait and see,,,

also hi artanis!! this line from her caught my eye i wanted to bring it up

im willing to bet that this belief is also one that was sourced from credos/jang-cheol, just like the rock paper scissors game and just the farming/pacifism schtick as a whole. it probably played a part in how he had to convince the demons to follow him in the first place,,,

this could also indicate that living honestly and working to earn is a principle that jang-cheol followed in korea, and he decided that he would stick with it when he became credos. alternatively, he had the complete opposite principle (he was a gamer after all, with a max level character,,, could imply that he spent all his time on the game) but when he got transmigrated, he realized that he had another shot at making a living honestly and decided to commit to that. there isn't really enough to make a solid conclusion on how jang-cheol lived, but this is an interesting indicator and i think it's worth a bookmark! i hope the prequel gets a manhwa so i can read it,,, manifesting,,,

oh also the railroad! yay!! y'know idk if this is quite the preservation of nature i had thought they would do LOL this,,, could be considered manipulating the ecosystem too much,,, but also i am not a biologist! so i wouldn't know! it looks nature-preserved so i'll take it!

seems like the demons won't be too far from home too, since they'll probably be the ones employed to run the railroad tracks once it's complete. lloyd essentially gave them jobs! yahoo!

AND THEEEN THE SECOND REALLY NICE PANEL FOR THIS WEEK YAYAYAYY WAAAAHHHH LLOYYYD LLOYD

i will be honest the glare is pretty uh. harsh but i dont mind at all bc YAYYY YAYYY NICE MOMENT WITH LLOYD YAHOO YAHOO. he seems and looks super tired here too,,, one of the panels before this was his heart freezing up again and alicia asked if they should stop bc of his heart, but he refuses,,, ghhh,,, stupid fucking martyr i love you stop doing that though please take a break

this panel is again another alicia pov panel and i really really like it,,, he's so Sun character to me idk how to explain that (javier is Moon to me). maybe ill break that down in a different post another time but yeah,,, yeah,,, sun and moon,,, yeah,,,,,,, also alicia is Comet. one day ill elaborate

and then there it is, goofy lloyd panel HAHA there's the greedy front he always puts on, welcome back! alicia's reaction too LMFAOOO she's sick of his antics /lh

like bud u dont have to say anything else,,, we know u care lloyd u dont have to put up the money part at the end anymore,,,,,,, goofy ass

their lil moment here was also rlly cute,,, alicia laughing at lloyd's antics and just. his big ass smile HAHAHAHAH so so cute i love this a lot,,,

and then the railroad got completed YAYY YAYYYY YAYYY ONE STEP CLOSER TO A HAPPY ENDING!!!

lloyd got like a jump ability and according to my mutuals thats not in the novel? so im curious as to what thats for,,, lloyd says it already but yeah he's a swordmaster now and has tons of other skills and summons too. what would a super jump be useful for,,,? so far, most if not all of his skills have had some use in the story,,, skills that are deliberately brought up like this are always used eventually. what in the world will a jump skill do??? what kind of situation will lloyd find himself in?? is this not almost over??? i'm so curious,,,

also this panel lloyd looks really tired, exhausted even,,, his irises look dulled and theres slight bags,,,, the construction plus the effects on his heart is probably doing him in,,,

and then we see him keel over LAKDFJLSDKJF

I GASPED SO LOUD WHEN I SAW THIS AND IM NOT SURE IF ITS OUT OF WORRY OR IF ITS OUT OF GIDDY. bc listen, on the one hand, oh my god im so worried for lloyd please be okay dont DIE. on the other hand,,, on the other, fic-brained character interaction-pilled hand,,, WHUMP WHUMP WHUMP CHARACTER WHUMP WHUMP MOMENT HURT COMFORT. YAHOO FIREWORKS EVERYONE CHEER!!! WHUMP!!! WHUMP IN MY TGED!!! WAOWIE WAOWIE WAOWIE!!!

sorry. my demons. anyway

alicia catching him is so good,,, sweet,,,, so sweet,,,,, ANOTHER POINT FOR ALILLOYD. again i wish the foundation for alilloyd was stronger, bc if they had established it in a better or more solid/connected way this moment would hit even harder,,, BUT NO,,, its missing impact for me simply bc alicia and lloyd do not talk/share/save each other enough. but it's so cute,,, sweet,,, this moment is nice,,, ghhh,,,, i feel heartbroken over this its bittersweet

and off they go,,, yes,,, a queen, her boyf, and her boyf's boyf. beautiful. alicia is carrying him again hehe,,,

off they go to get the eye of summer!! YAYYY!!! lloyd will stay alive!!! YAHOO!!! we are one step closer to beating fate and getting that happy ending,,, hold on lloyd, hold on everyone,,, it'll be over soon! if they don't get a happy ending i am going to cry and sob for forever and ever!!!! i'm serious!!!!!!!!

i genuinely had a lot of fun reading this ep the moments were all so fun and i'm very glad that things are looking up for them,,,!!! this does also worry me that there's going to be one more final obstacle before we actually get their good ending. bc now that i think abt it, getting the eye of summer does save lloyd but it doesn't stop fate,,, so,,, there might be more trouble ahead. but i'm not gonna worry about that right now!!! i'm coping!!! i'm coping.

that's all from me tho,,, i have to get back to the school grind,,, i'll see y'all next time!!!

[villainofmyownstory]

Day Zero

chapter 1: The First One

masterlist taglist

-> Next

pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x plus size fem!reader

summary: Ghost and his dog Riley regularly patrol the city. A man has his own routine, every day, for almost 2 years, has to look the same. The man knows that he cannot change his behavior because deep down he still feels that someone will answer his radio signal. He doesn't lose hope. However, exactly 730 days after "Day Zero", no one shows up at the transmitter mast. Just when you finally get there. You've been trying to get here for weeks, seeing a tower in the distance. You needed electricity, and the tower had a source of light every night. And so each of you, individually, still thinks that you are the only one alive.

Chapter 1: The First One

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Day 729

Ghost & Riley

5:43 a.m., the black Gamin watch on the man's right hand started ringing. In exactly 25 minutes, the sun will rise and Ghost will be able to leave the safety of his home and begin his daily routine.

This morning is definitely warmer than the previous ones. Getting out of bed, the man decides that in the evening he will cover some of the solar panels, so that excess energy for heating will no longer be needed. He preferred to keep some panels unused in case others failed. He couldn't find any more panels in the city, so unfortunately he had to settle for the few he found in recent months.

Riley ran to the man's leg, growling quietly, he had been extremely excited since the morning.

“What's up Riley?” Ghost stroked the dog behind the ear and spoke softly to him.

This dog had been the only living thing he could talk to for almost two years. It was actually a monologue, but Ghost knew that his beloved dog understood him and even though they didn't speak the same language, they understood each other perfectly.

The man also knew that he had to try to remain civilized, speaking, listening and behaving as he had before Day Zero. After years in the army, he remembered what soldiers released after years of captivity looked like. Who were locked in isolation for long months in small, dark cells. They were quickly losing their minds.

And he had to remain human. Despite everything.

Every day, after getting up and taking a quick bathroom break, Ghost would do some exercises to wake up. And be in good shape all the time. Unfortunately, his supplies of black tea were slowly running out and surprisingly there were few tea lovers in this damn city. He never drank coffee, so physical activity had to be enough for him to overcome sleepiness.

Once he put on his old military clothes and took his gun from the safe, he headed to the kitchen, taking a few military biscuits that he used to eat during his morning routine.

"Riley come on, it's time for patrol" the dog wagged his tail and ran to his master, waiting for Ghost to put a tactical harnesses and leash on him.

On his way out, Ghost checked the surveillance cameras he had installed around the house. The area looked like any other day. Intact. For a split second he felt disappointed, he was under the illusion that he was not the only one alive in this world.

Getting into the black Ford Ranger pickup truck, he checked the gas level in the canisters in the back and the air in the tires. Everything was in order. When Riley jumped on the back trunk and Ghost checked if the dog was safe, he got into the car and slowly drove away, looking around the surrounding area. Today he was going to the eastern part of the city, there were a few houses on the outskirts that he didn't check. As the days were getting longer, he could afford to travel further and plunder new abandoned houses.

When he reached one of his checkpoints, Riley on the trunk started barking and wanted to jump down to the ground. The man, concerned about the dog's behavior, quickly stopped at one of the dead ends. The dog barked and wagged his tail, staring as if in a trance, his attention focused towards the west.

“Riley calm down, Riley!”

Ghost quickly jumped onto the trunk and grabbed the dog by the collar, trying to calm animal down and direct its attention to himself. The dog barked louder and louder and suddenly growled in a way he had never heard before. Ghost froze, he had never seen such aggression from his dog before.

“Riley, sit down. Riley!”

man's voice trembled with growing fear, despite this he tried to pronounce the commands in a loud and decisive tone. Ghost was afraid that the dog might have gotten sick, maybe he had been bitten by some sick animal during one of the patrols in a new area and the wound was so small that Ghost he missed it. Even though he checked Riley every day after every patrol. He couldn't lose his only family member. Only friend.

Suddenly the dog calms down. He sat on his hind legs and, panting slightly, looked at his owner with peace in his eyes

“Bloody hell Riley, what the fuck was that?”

Ghost shook his head disapprovingly, looking up at the dog, patting it on the belly and stroking it for a while. After making sure that the dog had calmed down, the man returned to the car and drove again, glancing at the dog in the rear-view mirror from time to time. Fortunately, the rest of the journey passed peacefully, without any strange incidents.

Ghost drove in silence with the car windows open, looking around the suburbs. The eastern part of the city was mainly inhabited by elites, wealthier people from the upper classes.

Was.

Ghost, remembering his old life, felt that he didn't miss it. Money, power, fame. He never aspired to it and didn't need it, but in connection with his work he often had contact with rich people and it was difficult for him to come to terms with them. He could never get along with them. So now, after so many days since Day Zero, looking at the empty large villas, he smiled to himself. People had so much in the past, they were concerned with getting rich, making more and more money. And what did they need it for? Now they were all dead. And large houses and expensive cars stood empty, deteriorating under the influence of the seasons.

When the former soldier reached the house he had last checked, he parked close to a large tree so that the car was hidden in the shade. He opened the trunk lid for Riley to jump down and search the front and back of the house first. Nothing really bad ever happened, no evil awaited them during the day.

But Ghost wanted his four-legged friend to feel important and appreciated. If only his life would be no different from the one before Day Zero. Even though the man was not sure whether the dog had previously served in the army, from the first day they met the man checked and was happy to find that Riley was well trained. Its previous owner must have taken care of it. Ghost was very grateful to this person.

Whoever that person was.

When the dog returned happily wagging his tail and meekly stood next to the man's right leg, it was a signal that the area was checked and safe. Ghost took a bag of raw meat from his tactical vest pocket and gave a piece of it to the dog as a reward

“Good boy” as he said this he patted the dog affectionately on the head and added

“Watch the door Riley, I'll be right back.”

Ghost easily entered the white house, which was small compared to other houses in the area. Knowing that the owners would not come back to it anyway, he simply broke the glass in the door and turned the lock from the inside.

It took him less than 10 minutes to search the house, and as he thought, unfortunately for him, he found nothing important. It was one of those houses where wealthy owners come for a few days a year when they had to do something in the city. Ghost found some bandages, batteries, two cans of beans and a package of pasta. He packed everything into a backpack and took a large pillow from the couch.

Something for Riley.

Leaving the villa, he looked around the area, the sun was shining more and more strongly and Ghost basked in the sun for a few seconds, closing his eyes for a moment. Waiting for Riley to run up to him. However, none of this happened.

"Riley, come on..."

Ghost said calmly, patting his thigh to encourage the dog to come to him.

Silence. No movement.

“Oh, come on boy, I've got something for you..” the soldier opened his eyes and stepped off the porch, looking around the front lawn.

For the first time in over 700 days, Ghost felt panic rising.

Riley was nowhere to be found.

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Day 730

You

The next day of walking was so tiring that you took each step slowly with a grimace on your face. Your feet are so injured that your white Converse shoes are not only dirty with dust and brown soil, but also have red stains on them.

You don't have the strength to walk anymore. You wipe the sweat from your forehead, straightening the old t-shirt that serves as a makeshift head cover. The days are getting hotter and the journey during the day is torture.

“Maybe I'll finally lose weight”

you mutter under your breath, standing in the shadow for a moment. The large billboard that stands in the western part of the city is slightly damaged. The advertisement for the movie, which premiered over two years ago, is slightly faded and torn.

You fan your face with your hand, hoping it will bring you some relief.

Even though almost two years have passed since Day Zero, you have not lost the excess weight, and walking in full sun was a real horror for you. Dropping your backpack at your feet, you take out a half-full bottle of water and take a few sips. Even the water in the bottle is warm.

You sigh and look around. Nevertheless, despite all the horror that took place so many days ago, the outskirts of this city do not look damaged or well-kept. Even in your previous life - as you call it - you had never been to this area. Maybe it would be worth looking around a bit, maybe you will find a working car. Or at least a bicycle.

The tingling and stinging in your feet constantly reminded you how hurt and bloody your feet were. But you had to get to the transmission tower. You had seen it for so many days and you knew there was electricity there. Even on a rainy night, the lights from the tower were visible from many miles away. You were hoping that you would be able to charge the electronics you collected two years ago and maybe you would finally hear a human voice. Some signal of life.

You couldn't be the only survivor on this earth.

After a moment of rest, you moved further west, the sun was shining stronger and higher. It must have been close to twelve o'clock. You wanted to reach the tower before sunset, hoping that apart from metal bars and many cables, there would be a technical building where you could spend the night and charge your equipment.

Life before Day Zero was kind and happy for you. However, after that day it was a fight for survival. You were suddenly alone, without family or friends. You were on your own for the first time in your life. And you weren't the survival type. You lived comfortably all your life and could count on family members. Walking towards the mast, you had time for further thoughts. After all, what else are you left with? You haven't seen a human in 2 years.

Alive, to be more precise.

You were having conversations in your head, speaking quietly to yourself every few days as if you were afraid that your vocal cords would grow together or that you would simply forget what it's like to be human. The silence of the desolate world scared you at first, sleepless nights and fear during the day accompanied you in the first year. It was only when you found a bigger city and nice, undamaged houses and moved into one of them, collecting found food and useful items, that you finally started to calm down and sleep through the nights.

However, when the batteries in the device ran out, the water in the tap stopped flowing, and the winter at home became so cold that you might as well have slept outside, because the temperature difference was practically negligible, you decided to head west.

One night, when a snowstorm and strong wind opened one window in the attic and you went to close it at least temporarily and secure it to prevent snow from entering the house, you noticed a flashing light on the horizon in the distance.

At first you thought it was just a hallucination. Maybe you didn't eat enough or ate some spoiled food and your eyesight is playing tricks on you. But as you stood there and looked out the open window. To the west, a small light kept flickering in the distance. And the next day and the next. And finally the next week too.

When more than a month had passed and the weather had finally normalized, you decided to pack the most necessary items and go in that direction.

It had to be some kind of sign.

Some miracle.

During those nights when you were waiting for the weather to allow you to travel on foot, you imagined many scenarios. You felt excited and happy. Hope. Maybe you weren't the only living person in this world, maybe there were other people that close. This thought kept you alive.

Thanks to this thought, after so many days of traveling with injured legs, you were finally close to your destination. You had to get there and see with your own eyes that you weren't crazy after all and that the red and white tower was a signpost that someone maintained to let you know that he was also here, that he was alive.

When you finally reached the fence, you didn't even notice that your emotions and tiredness had won and tears were rolling down your cheeks.

You were so very happy. So close to the goal.

The gate to the tower was padlocked.

“Fuck!”

you screamed, struggling against the metal fence. You stood there sobbing, not knowing how to get to the other side. It was impossible to climb the fence. Firstly, it was too high, secondly, there was barbed wire at the top and thirdly, you physically couldn't do it. You were too fat to pull your body up over the fence.

When you finally calmed down and wiped your tears, you walked away from the fence and noticed that next to one of the fence posts there was a piece of paper attached with a red material.

You froze.

You quickly pulled a piece of paper from behind the ribbon and unwrapped the paper with trembling hands:

“If anyone is reading this, it means I'm not alone here. You survived just like me.

My name is Ghost.

I have shelter, food and other necessary items to survive. If you are looking for help, wait here. I come to the towers every day, every day of the year. Right at noon and I've been waiting for an hour..."

You quickly looked at your watch and froze… 12:23…. No, it's impossible, you've been here for a long time, you must have seen someone, you wanted to cry again. It can't be true that the only living thing, ironically calling itself Ghost, didn't show up today. Just when you came here. Maybe you missed each other? Maybe you were here for a few minutes after all. There was hope. You were supposed to spend the night here anyway, so if by some miracle you two missed each other, there was a chance to meet the owner of this letter tomorrow.

You looked at the piece of paper again:

“...and I've been waiting for an hour.

However, if you have no good intentions and are counting on your own survival, I have to worry you. In my previous life I killed more people than you can count, now, apart from things to survive, I have a weapon with me and I know how to use it quickly.

Wait here, and until I appear, don't be afraid, because you will hear and see my dog…Riley.”

With your heart beating strongly, you finished reading the letter.

Your mind didn't even have time to fully read the content of the letter when a large German shepherd ran out from the west wing of the fence, barking loudly.

This couldn't be true.

When you turned towards the dog, you froze.

“Oh my God…Riley…boy”

It was your dog. Who disappeared on Day Zero.

And now, after 730 days, he was running towards you.

Your beloved dog has been found.

[yesterdays-xkcd]

...

Startled [Explained]

Trancript

[Wide panel. Cueball and Megan are standing to one side. Black Hat is standing some distance away. Megan is looking at Cueball while pointing both at Cueball and at Black Hat.]

[Normal sized panel. Zoom in as Megan sneaks up close to Black Hat, who now looks a little upwards.]

[An inserted panel only half the height of the normal panels, but with its top lifted slightly above their levels and with its frame crossing both the previous and the next normal. It shows a close-up of Megan with hands raised while shouting.] Megan: Boo!

[Only Black Hat is shown in this thin panel. He looks shocked, which is indicated by him taking his hands to his face, lines behind his head, and that his hat jumps up above his head, showing that he has a bit of hair under it.]

[The next three panels are even thinner than the previous, but they stay the same size. First, the hat falls down over Black Hat's head down to his shoulders, without the hat changing size. The movement is indicated with two lines above the hat. Black Hat crosses his arms across his chest and bends in the knees.]

[Then the hat keeps falling over his body, swallowing it so only his legs below his knees are visible.]

[Finally the hat hits the ground with a large sound, also indicated with seven "U" shaped lines around the hat. There is no sign of Black Hat.] Fwump

[The last two panels are in another row below the previous panel, but there are no panels under the two first panels in the first row. This could indicate that time has passed, or is just a way to create a dramatic effect, as with all the other changes in panel size and position above. This panel's width is somewhere between the first two panels. Cueball and Megan look at the hat, Cueball with a hand in front of his mouth.]

[The last panel is as wide as the first, but extends farther to the right than the last panel in he first row, again breaking the symmetry. Megan and Cueball still look on (both with hands down) as the hat begins to crawl away. The movement makes sounds and is indicated with four lines behind the hat now farther away from the two.] Scooch Scooch Scooch

[sophrosynesworld]

The Delicate Balance

Imagine being a lawyer helping the LOV.

Come Now.

I’m with a client, is this an emergency?

Don’t test my patience.

Don’t threaten the person who keeps you out of prison. Is this important?

Yes.

I’m on my way. Don’t do anything stupid.

I roll my eyes and stuff my phone back into my purse, standing up from the table. The tension in the conference room thickens as I interrupt the meeting.

“I am so sorry, gentlemen. I have another emergency to attend to. I’m sure you can finish this up without me, right?” I adjust my pencil skirt, ensuring it sits perfectly, as I gather my paperwork.

“Yes, ma’am. I’ll leave the final draft on your desk before I leave for the evening,” one of the junior associates chimes in eagerly, his eyes wide with ambition. He’s desperate to prove himself useful, and I nod curtly, acknowledging his enthusiasm. 

I turn to my client, a middle-aged man with worry lines etched into his forehead. "You’re in good hands," I assure him, shaking his hand firmly. "I’ll review everything first thing tomorrow."

As I exit the sleek office building, I slip into the bustling crowd, my heels clicking with purpose against the pavement. I make my way to the subway station, weaving through the crowd of commuters.

Once I’m a few blocks away, I duck into a narrow alleyway, the noise of the city fading into the background. I continue towards an inconspicuous door, blending seamlessly into the brick wall. Glancing around to ensure I’m not being followed; I tap a code into a hidden panel on the ground. The door clicks open, and I slip inside, descending into the dimly lit corridor of the League of Villain's headquarters.

Inside, the atmosphere shifts dramatically. The air is heavy with the scent of metal and booze. The dimly lit bar isn't my typical client's office, but I don't mind as long as the check clears. As I move further in, the eyes of the League of Villains members flicker towards me, curiosity mingling with their usual wariness.

The first thing I notice is surprising. In the center of the room, tied to a chair, is none other than Katsuki Bakugo, a student from U.A. High. His usually fierce eyes are now filled with a mix of rage and fear, and his mouth is gagged, stifling any potential explosions of his infamous temper.

“Why do you have a child tied to that chair?” My voice is flat, deliberately controlled to mask my shock. The last thing I need is to show any weakness.

Toga, lounging casually nearby, looks up with a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes. “Can you report this to the police?”

“No,” I reply, keeping my tone professional. “I’m only required to report you if you haven’t committed the crime yet, but have just informed me that you plan to do so. But again, why is he here?”

Toga tilts her head, her expression turning mischievous. “He’s our newest member. He's just a little upset right now." She laughs, "Don’t worry, we won’t hurt him... much.”

Suppressing a sigh, I remind myself of my role here. I’m not just their lawyer; I’m their strategist, their advisor. I step closer to Bakugo, his fiery gaze boring into mine despite his predicament.

“I need you to understand,” I say, turning to address the room, “that actions like these complicate your operations. Kidnapping a high-profile U.A. student draws significant attention, and attention is the last thing we need right now.”

Spinner, leaning against the bar, nods in agreement. “She’s right. We can’t afford to have the heroes sniffing around.”

Shigaraki, sitting in the shadows, finally speaks. His voice is calm but carries an edge of menace. “We’re aware of the risks. But desperate times call for desperate measures.”

I kneel down to Bakugo’s level, offering a reassuring smile despite the situation. “We’re going to sort this out, okay? You’ll be fine.” Turning back to the group, I add, “We need to handle this delicately. I’ll draft a plan that ensures our security and minimizes the fallout.”

As I straighten up, I catch Dabi’s smirk from across the room. “You always know how to handle things, don’t you?”

“It’s my job,” I reply coolly. “But we can’t just release him. He’ll come back, and he won’t be alone. We need a solution that neutralizes the threat without escalating our exposure.”

Shigaraki leans forward, eyes narrowing. “What do you suggest?”

I think for a moment, weighing our options. “We need to relocate him somewhere secure, where he can’t easily escape or be found. Somewhere remote. And we need to ensure his containment is discreet.”

Toga perks up. “I know a place. An old warehouse outside the city. Hardly anyone goes there anymore.”

“That could work,” I nod. “But we also need to consider his friends will be looking for him. We need to leave false leads, misdirections to keep them off our trail.”

Dabi’s smirk widens. “Now you’re talking.”

I glance at Bakugo again, his eyes burning with silent fury. “We’ll move him tonight. Spinner, Toga, you handle the transport. Dabi, you’re on diversion duty. Create enough chaos to distract the heroes. Shigaraki, I’ll need your approval to mobilize the resources for this.”

Shigaraki gives a slow nod. “Do it. And make sure it’s done right.”

The tension in the room shifts to a focused determination. As the League members move to their tasks, I take a deep breath, ready to dive into the next challenge.

[welcometothejianghu]

Welcome to another round of W2 Tells You What You Should See, where W2 (me) tries to sell you (you) on something you should be watching. Today's choice: 大理寺少卿游/White Cat Legend.

White Cat Legend is the 2024 live-action adaptation of a funny historical manhua about a country bumpkin who winds up working with a bunch of mystery-solving officials led by a beautiful boss whose tragic past means no one can know he's also a kitty.

This is one of those cases where television comes in to adapt something that has both unfilmable elements and a very non-cinematic storyline that hasn't even been finished yet, and as such mostly just takes the characters and the basic conceit, then creates an entire vaguely nonsensical 36-episode AU fanfic of it. To call this show tonally inconsistent would be an insult to shows that are only merely tonally inconsistent. It is full-on tonal whiplash, the kind you should go see a doctor about. This shit is all over the place. It has arcs and situations that are genuinely emotionally moving, and then smash cut! to wacky nonsense happening with the B-plot. It does not know if it wants to tell a Serious Story or just have bonkers antics, and it will deal with this indecision by doing both at once.

So if you're in the mood for something fun with charming characters that won't tax your brain parts, let me give you five reasons this could be exactly the junk food you're looking for.

1. Just a family of all boys

If you're looking for a show rife with female characters, go watch Legend of Fei or Story of Yanxi Palace. Over here, it's Boys' Night Out.

The show is set in the Court of Judicial Review, which solves crimes. The boy in charge of all of them is Li Bing, who is secretly also a cat for reasons he doesn't understand. He picks up naive yokel and total sweeheart Chen Shi and brings him back to work with the Court's current occupants: a sad-eyed scribe with catastrophically bad luck, a former soldier who wishes he'd been born recently enough to be into Crossfit, a generic "foreigner" whose superpowers are spending his parents' money and pronouncing things badly, and the 8th-century Chinese equivalent of a mediocre white man.

And I'm going to tell you right now, up front, above the cut, that these boys' character interactions are the #1 reason to watch this show. You watch it because you like to see them bounce off one another like the unsupervised toddlers they are. They all love and care for one another in the best ways they know how, which sometimes aren't very effective, but darn it, they're trying!

What's especially cute is how they're so touchy with one another -- and not in any kind of sexual or creepy way, but in a sincerely affectionate bro way. There's lots of hugging and supportive arms around waists. Sometimes when they get scared, they hold hands. They grip one another when walking across unsteady ground or climbing over walls to break into yet another house. There's never any gay panic or no-homo reassurances. It hits that sweet spot right between brothers and boyfriends, where you can read their interactions as fraternal and/or romantic as you like (see below).

I mean, who needs a plot when you have half a dozen charming boys canonically working, eating, and sleeping side by side? That, my friends, is quality television.

2. Jam-packed with goofball nonsense

White Cat Legend is a show that will make you laugh out loud, and mostly even on purpose.

About 2/3 of this show is silly, and the other 1/3 is trying so hard to be emotionally resonant. But you know what? Screw emotional resonance for the moment -- let's embrace the antics!

There's a lot of silliness happening even at the production level. The show also starts out doing some very cute visual things, like breaking shots into multiple "panels" that give everything a real comic feel. It's especially effective during fight scenes and other visually confusing setups. ...And then about 1/4 of the way in, it forgets about this gimmick and stops almost completely. This is a shame, because I liked it! I liked that VFX tomfoolery that paid homage to the story's webcomic roots! (Also, someone behind the camera clearly got told that the way to make a scene more visually interesting is to slowly pan in during every shot. Once you notice it, you can't unsee it.)

The main villain is ... well, he's a lot. He's just a whole lot. I'd call him Evil Garfield, except Garfield is already kind of Evil Garfield, so this guy's Eviler Garfield. He's not chewing the scenery, but is instead treating it like a cat with a vendetta against some drapes. He's just hilariously over the top at all times. It starts out vaguely entertaining, then gets annoying, then wraps right back around to entertaining again.

Also, his wig is terrible -- and it's not even the worst wig in the show! White Cat Legend has decided that the way you style foreigner NPCs is just to jam unbrushed women's wigs on extras' heads and call it a day. There are indeed a lot of foreigners in the show, and the show has chosen to handle them by assuming everything beyond the borders of 6th-century Chinese territory is a great undifferentiated vaguely Persian-flavored mass. Who's that shady-looking guy? Oh, he's Foreign. What country is he from? A Foreign one. What language does he speak? You know, Foreign.

You are not ready for the score. This is a show that spent its entire musical budget on a handful of middling pop songs, realized it still needed ~40 minutes of music to put in each episode, and decided that it could just pull things at semi-random from whatever the Chinese television equivalent of the YouTube royalty-free sound library is. The result is some laugh-out-loud hilarious soundtracking. Do you know why they usually pay people to do things like score television shows? It's because when you don't, it sounds like this.

True story: During one antics-filled scene, I frowned, listened a second, and asked my wife, "Is that ... 'Deck the Halls'?" It was!

The mysteries are -- and I'm quoting myself here -- the celery that gets the cute boy peanut butter to your mouth. Not only can you, the viewer, not solve them, I don't actually remember what most of the resolutions were. Hell, I barely remember what most of the actual setups were. The individual storylines are mostly unimportant pieces of fluff that kinda sorta tie into the big mystery of the show: Why is that boy a kitty? ...And if you think you're going to be satisfied by the resolution to that one, honestly, you haven't been paying attention to what I've been saying in this post.

Basing this on absolutely nothing but vibes, here is my guess: The original vision for this series was as an ongoing thing, something that might hew a little closer to the comic storyline in later seasons. At some point in the production, the decision got made that there would be no further seasons made. The resulting drama is something that's technically self-contained, sure, but has a lot of little lingering weirdnesses that look like foreshadowing.

As just one example, the way they frame and shoot the empress is bizarre, and she might as well have a big SHE'S GOING TO TURN OUT TO BE EVIL neon sign above her head. ...Except that, no, she's fine! Perfectly fine, mostly normal empress, mostly normal levels of evil, nothing to see here. She is, however, evil as heck in the source material (and that's not a spoiler, she's a little pink thing who's clearly sinister all the way from the get-go), and I have to wonder if the showrunners weren't planning some future heel-turn villain arc for her. Well, we'll never know now, so whatever you choose to believe, the show won't contradict you on it!

Your reaction to all of this will 100% depend on how charitable you are feeling toward staring down a firehose of (mostly) intentionally slapdash shenanigans. If you go into this demanding coherence and substance, you will wind up disappointed. If you go into it expecting nothing more than a fluffy good time, you'll probably enjoy yourself tremendously -- and you'll maybe even be moved by the rare times it does work out to being something of substance! Such as...

3. We are never ever getting back together

The first thing you can tell about Qiu Qingzhi and Li Bing is that they are as divorced as two dudes in a c-drama can be. They aren't just a little divorced. They are nuclear divorced.

Except -- and this is the juicy part -- they obviously still work really well together. If it's just the two of them head-to-head, they will be assholes to one another with no mercy. If circumstances change and they have a shared target, God help that shared target.

The unspoilery version of their backstory goes like this: They were adorable little tween besties who grew up into adorable little teen besties, until Qiu Qingzhi went off to join the army and came back a real cold bitch, and Li Bing has no idea why. Now the two of them control state agencies that should work together but actually wind up competing more often than not (think the FBI and the CIA), a competition not helped by how the Jinwu Guards (Qiu Qingzhi's group) are actual professional soldiers in very nice armor, while the Court of Judicial Review is, well, [gestures to points 1 and 2].

And yeah, baby, this right here is The Ship.

I spent a nonzero amount of time while watching this series laughing out loud because Wei Zheming's face is just too beautiful to be believed. With his sculpted jaw and his perfectly practiced looks of disdain, his Qiu Qingzhi looks like a damn Disney prince. His face could not be more perfect if you'd assigned a team of animators to draw it. This actor is the reason I found this show in the first place -- he was so beautiful in Word of Honor that I found myself wondering what else he might be getting up to. Turns out, he is again being a smug bitch and capturing the heart of a doe-eyed younger man.

Don't let me oversell how much these two are together in the show, because they're not. Qiu Qingzhi is not part of the main crew, so he's not in most of the episodes. Most of his screentime comes in flashbacks during the last story arc, to a time in his past when Li Bing wasn't even around. But when they're together, oh, the sparks do fly.

I think it helps that the actors seem to have understood the ship, even if in that video, Ding Yuxi (Li Bing's actor) is trying so hard to do the Please Do Not Cancel Us dance of plausible deniability. I honestly don't even think this is the show's doing; after all, the source material (see the section near the end) is not BL in the slightest. I'd believe the show meant to create a normal platonic bro-relationship between these two. I'd even believe that it thinks it succeeded.

Still, if you're not the biggest fan of Lovers To Enemies? That's fine! Here's the relationship that's the real core of the show:

4. Here comes a special boy

All the boys of the family of all boys are special and wonderful, but truly, Chen Shi is the specialest and wonderfulest of them all.

He is your everyman character, the little country bumpkin overwhelmed by all the big-city dealings he's stumbled into. With his cute little twang and his natural inclination to trust everyone he meets, he's the perfect cinnamon roll, too good, too pure. I want to pinch his angelic little cheeks.

Fun fact: I have been informed by someone who speaks with the same dialect he does that said dialect is very sweary, which brings to mind the wonderful image of Chen Shi just casually and sweetly dropping f-bombs while everyone else stares in shock.

In a show where the characters are way more important than the plot, having a good POV character is key. Your audience lives or dies entirely on how much they want to see that POV character put into situations. To me, Chen Shi is a rousing success at this. He's not stupid! He's just extremely sheltered and on his own for the first time in his ife. He's the bravest little toaster, the goodest boy who's not going to let the little things stop him -- like, say, illiteracy, or a lack of familiarity with city living, or an inability to give any substantial details about the brother he's looking for beyond 'he looks just like me.' That's why he's got his friends help him out!

You better believe that when it comes time to save the day, Chen Shi will do it through the power of how everyone loves him.

And he and the kitty are ... romance? Kind of romance? Romance-adjacent? I could burn even more wordcount explaining the dynamic, but @uovoc has already said it best:

cdrama Li Bing is like: I've taken an inexplicable liking to this simple country boy so I'm going to entrust him with my life's greatest secret because I'm whimsical like that. And cdrama Chen Shi is like: this man is the most beautiful cat I've ever seen.

No matter how romantically you slice it, it's a dynamic I absolutely love: where a guy weighed down by his own past meets another guy who could not care less about that. Chen Shi is Li Bing's chance to figure out who Li Bing is, without the burdens of his family history, connections to the court, job, status, or any of the other things everyone else sees when they look at him. Chen Shi looks at Li Bing and sees Li Bing, whiskers and all.

I mean, Chen Shi makes Li Bing an entire office full of human-sized cat toys. If that's not love, I don't know what is.

And if you're not into besties-to-worsties or the pure and purrfect love between a man and his cat who is also a man? That's okay! I've helpfully made a chart to demonstrate the many flavors of exciting relationship dynamics White Cat Legend makes available to you:

Imagine the possibilities! Make your own fun! And then get over to AO3 and share it with the rest of the class! The White Cat Legend tag is sparsely populated and mostly not in English, and that's a shame, because there's so much smooching potential.

5. Not as dumb as it looks

Wow, that's kind of a backhanded compliment, isn't it? Well, no, not actually. You saw my earlier points about what a bag of goofs this show is. What's easy to miss, though, is how unexpectedly clever a whole lot of its dumbassery is.

A lot of this, I'm going to chalk up to the actors, who on the whole turn in some comedic performances way better than they have any right to be. That's the thing about comedy: to do stupid well, you have to be smart. They're all very funny, and they've got some great chemistry in combinations and permutations. It's a testament to their abilities that you can take any two of them, give them a scene together, and get something worth watching out of it.

Of course most of this is the main boys, but the major supporting characters largely have the same clever sense of comedic timing. Their actors know they're not performing some great work of literature, so they've decided to have some fun with it. I'm not going to praise anyone's performance here as particularly great, but by and large, the recurring cast members are doing solid work.

The aforementioned goofball nonsense also does a fair job of distracting from how creative the show can be. For example, the fact that many of the fights and chases are comedic makes it easy to miss how the fight choreography is often really tight. I don't think the show is trying to hide its moments of cleverness, so much as it's just grabbing them where it can without drawing attention to them.

I know a lot of people gave up on this show only a few episodes in, and I suspect I know why. It's not even that it just takes a while to find its footing -- it never quite finds its footing, on account of being such a patchwork creation. It's an adaptation of an incomplete story, forced to make changes because of budgetary limitations, promising things it's not allowed to deliver on, and further cut down between filming and release. That's what you call having the deck stacked against you. The fact that the final product is not only watchable but downright enjoyable is a testament to how the production got some critical fundamentals right.

In short, it's not just dumb fun -- though it is a lot of dumb fun. But it's dumb fun with just enough to sink your teeth into that it eventually becomes a compelling ratio. I don't blame the people who bailed, but I'm glad I stuck with it.

bonus: It comes in other flavors!

If you like the series and you want more, you're in luck! There's a whole ongoing comic and animated series!

The comic is the original version of the story: a tall vertical webcomic with a cute, distinctive style. It's still being published, and it's very different from the drama. There's a great ongoing translation project at @whitecatlegend, so if your Mandarin skills are as bad as mine (or worse!), you can follow along in English as well!

The donghua is a pretty close adaptation of several parts of the comic. You can find the whole first season at this YouTube playlist, though please note that the playlist is out of order, so you don't accidentally start with episode 8. The translation is ... eh, it's a little rough in places, to put it charitably, but it also makes some charming localization decisions, so I'm all for it. Oh, and here's the second season! It's even prettier and better-translated than the first!

Also, hey, furries? Li Bing's a perma-kitty in both of those versions of the story, so have fun with that.

The drama's casting is spot-on. Whoever picked these boys went out of their way to keep the original artistic vibe as much as possible, to the point where if you'd told me the drama had come first and then someone had drawn a comic starting from the actors' likenesses, I would've believed you.

(And yes, if you've read it, Qiu Qingzhi and Lai Zhongshu aren't technically Qiu Shenji and Lai Junchen, but I'm declaring them close enough for the purposes of this demonstration.)

I have heard that some fans of the comic are unhappy about the live-action adaptation, and I get that, I do -- they are not the same thing. There are plenty of things the drama leaves out where, okay, I understand why that person/event/factor got cut, but at the same time, dammit. In the end, I like them both as very different stories featuring the same(-ish) characters. Still, the drama is definitely not one of those situations where you get to tune in to watch the same things you loved on the page, just in a different medium. The delightfully accurate casting is about where the similarities end. Everything beyond that is its own legend.

Kitty.

Here, kitty, kitty?

The drama's an iQiyi exclusive, so that's where you'll get it.

It's a fun show, not a perfect show. It has some captivating elements and lots of promising nonsense worth thinking about. And like I said, it's a tiny-ass fandom -- a paltry 277 works on AO3, a mere 44 of which are in English. Somebody get in there and make some combination of those boys kiss!

Also, it is criminal that Kitty Li Bing has fabulous red eyeliner that Person Li Bing does not get to wear. Call makeup and fix that.

[yall-imhere]

Have You Seen Absolute Batman?!

The book hasn't come to the PH but Comicstorian (RIP Benny, thank you for bringing comics to life and giving workaholics, like me, to have time to listen to these amazing stories) made a post narrating Absolute Batman vs Alfred Pennyworth.

First, Absolute Batman. The man is the freaking GOAT.

In this version, Bruce Wayne doesn't have all of his fortune. The Waynes are just a normal family in Gotham, and best of all, Bruce has his Mom with him in this! Martha Wayne is alive!

Without his fortune, DC is able to show off Bruce/Batman's creativity and ingenuity by using resources around him while having little to no money to make those fancy gadgets. But that doesn't stop Bruce. He builds his suit, making it practical with every aspect of it that can be used in battle as a weapon or a way of defense.

The bat ears of his mask are batarangs.

His cape has the functionality of a bat.

And his insignia... with a pair of pliers he turns the boxy-bat symbol to an ax!

He still has his "no kill" rule but he won't hesitate to chop off a criminal's hand if needed.

(I mean, what else is that ax for?)

Then there's the makeshift Batcave. With Bruce taking all sorts of jobs within the water, electric, and construction industries in Gotham, he knows everything that's happening in the city, including ghost investments. He builds his little "gamer-set up" version of the Batcave with multiple screens attached to a computer desk on one of those empty building floors that rich people buy and invest in but do not really have anything built on or put out for rent.

Absolute Batman explores the huge "What if?" of Batman, because one of the main aspects that helped him become the Batman is his wealth.

Then there's Alfred. Since the Waynes are not the rich and powerful family in Gotham, Alfred isn't anyone to the Waynes. Alfred is a badass operative who has a mission that has him crossing paths with Batman in Gotham.

In every universe, Alfred Pennyworth is a freaking badass.

Personally, I like this retelling of Batman because it brought a feel of Daredevil's streel-level type of crimefighting by getting rid of all the high-tech gadgets, and though we're still in the first issue and there's still so much that the story would cover, I hope this even more grounded feel of Batman continues as they explore into this new alternate universe.

Go ahead and listen to Comicstorian's narration of Batman Absolute Issue #1. It offers a good glimpse into the Absolute universe and sets the tone of the stories this has to offer.

P.S. I really, really, hope Alfred takes in Bruce as an apprentice or something.

P.P.S. I Love seeing the panel where Bruce walks his mom back inside their home. He really loves his mom! And Martha Wayne is giving badass mom vibes too! Can't wait for Issue #2.

P.P.P.S Bruce Wayne is a freaking Gen Z! And this hulking man is coming home with a daisy for his mom! Who isn't going to love him?!

[plasmometer]

I know right and before their dad showed up they were fucking demons

Imagine you're a little boy, you spent your whole life helping your mother farm fungus while your father worked in the mines. Life is hard in the desert. Travelers from far away call it "the wastes" but it's the only home you've ever known. You hear things, your parents sit up at night, talking about some big bad man and an army of monsters. Whatever it is, it's got your father ready to take up arms with some of the neighbors. He tells you that he'll do whatever it takes to protect you and your mother. That no matter what comes your way, he'll always keep you safe. You believe him, he's never lied before.

One night, your mother shakes you awake. You hear commotion outside. Adults yelling, the hiss of welding torches, the ground shaking stomp-stomp-stomp of exotractors. You hear your dad, hurriedly moving around the house. Your mother tells you to put on your shoes and takes you into the living room. Your father is loading a rifle while listening to a vox on the table. It wails with warnings and orders, you hear a loud static screech and the line goes dead. Your father hugs you, he's hugged you before but never this tight. He kisses your mother deep and places a pistol in her hand. There's tears in his eyes as he charges out the door, rifle in hand.

Your mother bolts and barricades the door behind him and places you in a hole in the wall. She tells you to stay put, no matter what you see, no matter what you hear and seals it in front of you. It'd be completely dark if not for the small hole at your eye level. You feel like you've been waiting forever when you hear it. The worst sound you've ever heard. Like a thousand hellbats, shrieking in unison. Just when you think it won't ever end, the shooting starts.

...

It's over in minutes. The report of autogun fire and the bone-shaking roar of mining charges leave your ears ringing. It's quiet. Then screaming, children screaming. Many children screaming. You hear one of your friends, a boy from the farms crying for his mother. Then there's a knock at the door. Knocking becomes banging. Banging becomes metal tearing and wood splintering. And where there once was a door, there's a Monster.

It's shaped like a man, but it's too big. It has to stoop down to enter the frame, its pale, bald head brushes against the ceiling. Clouds of pink foam drip from the corners of Its mouth. It's wrapped in a steel shell, caked with blood. Two furious red pinpricks burn where its eyes should be. The floorboards creak as it creeps forward. Leaving wet footprints on planks. It takes two steps before your mother fires her pistol, hitting it square in the forehead. Wisps of smoke rise from the wound, it didn't even flinch. In a heartbeat, it crosses the gap between them and bats the gun away with a wet snap, knocking her to the floor. Her arm hangs limply, bending the wrong way. It grabs her with a giant rusty fist. The air around it crackles and pops. It grips her whole torso and her clothes sizzle at its touch. It hoists her into the air and shakes her, violently. You almost cry out before she starts screaming

She screams and screams and screams. The smell is like burning meat and stripped wire. She...comes apart in its hands. Clumps of crimson, half-cooked flesh slough off onto the floor with wet slaps until it's gripping nothing but charred bone, stripped bare. Her body glides out of its hands onto the floor and it crouches down over. It cradles her body and shovels viscera into its fanged maw. You're frozen, you can't move, can't speak. Afraid to even breathe. You shift your weight and the wall creaks. The wet tearing and sloppy chewing ceases and the Monster snaps to attention. Fresh blood drips from its mouth and nose, it stands and begins to look around. It sniffs the air like a hound searching for rats and looks dead at you.

It reaches through the panel as if it weren't even there. Its other hand, smaller but still massive, grips your throat, your whole face really. You kicks and twist and fight to no avail. You can't breathe. You can't breathe. It squeezes the life out of you. You're going to die, you've never been more sure of anything in your entire life. The last thing you remember before blacking out was the nauseating, coppery scent of your mother on its breath and those hellish eyes cutting through you...

insane actually? thank you for that and yes, blood angels are my favourite loyalists because of their duality. your protector turns into a rabid animal in the matter of seconds, isn't that a good storytelling device?

[lylethewaterguy]

My review of The New Gods (2024) #1.

Spoiler free: I know we’re one issue in but I cannot recommend The New Gods enough, it’s already become my favourite comic currently running and I loved literally everything about the first issue, 10/10. It’s so epic and grounded at the same time and characterisation of everyone involved is spot on. It’s also I think a really good jumping on point if you’re not a New Gods fan, Ram V has said that you don’t need any prior knowledge before reading this comic and that really rings true for the first issue. And THE ART!!! Omg Evan Cagle and Jorge Fornés really cooked with the pencils and inks and the colour by Francesco Segala are AMAZING.

Spoiler inclusive/my favourite moments:

Warning I’ve only read it once so far so my thoughts are little more than AAAAH!!!

Metron is such a little shit stirrer as always. And I love this vague ass prophecy. Everything about the beginning showing the grand scale of the New Gods and then contrasting it with the Frees on earth is chefs kiss. It’s also such a good way to kick start the run.

LIGHTRAY!!! This art is stunning in literally every panel but omg he’s so cute. And he’s such a ray of sunshine (literally). All he wants to do is help. Also the choice to make him literally glowing is fantastic.

This whole section with Orion is probably my favourite part art wise (which is really saying something cause again the comic is gorgeous). But Cagles art is so dynamic and full of life I just love it. Also Orion’s design is amazing.

OLIVIA!!!! Cutest baby ever!!!!!!! I will protect her with my life!

Like I said before the way Ram V and Evan Cagle contrast the vast expanse of the universe and the mythic levels of the new gods with the domestic life of the Frees is amazing and so impactful. And Orion being in the background and giving them their time was adorable. (Also this Scott design!!!! AHHHH)

I absolutely adore the way Ram writes them as actual brothers. Their voices and the way they speak with each other has so much more calm and closeness than most of their other appearances ever do. And the way Scott really couldn’t care less about the prophecy until Orion tells him what he has to do, it’s such a perfect characterisation of him!

AHHHH! Again, cannot stress enough what an amazing characterisation of Scott this is. He’s finally found himself at a point where he doesn’t want to escape and he’s forced to leave anyway. I have to also give props for the large print introductions for Scott and Orion, both of which are visually stunning and represent them perfectly. Also the “and you” AHHHHHHH!!!

I know I’m repeating myself but it cannot be stressed enough how lovingly, amazingly, and accurately Ram V is writing these characters. Their voices are PERFECT. Orion not wanting to go through with killing a child so he makes Scott stop him and Scott not wanting to go but not being able to stop himself. “The one thing you can never escape, Mister Miracle, is who you are.” Just kill me now.

MAX??????? What the hell are you doing here???? No but not only am I always happy to see my favourite piece of shit but also I love this. When Max was first introduced he was chasing power and ignoring all empathy because he was being manipulated by a computer created by Metron to gain the knowledge of earth. So I think having him (at least I’m 90% sure it’s him) act out the wills of the gods (whoever it is that’s telling him about the child) is absolutely perfect.

And I could not be more excited. Like I said this is already my favourite comic book running and one of my favourites of all time and we’re one (1) issue in. I’ve already got both the main cover and the Cagle acetate cover ordered through February (wanted to get more but couldn’t financially justify it). The fact that I have to wait another 4 weeks for the next one is criminal. But I urge everyone to go read this!

[moodymisty]

✓ Private Lesson ✓

Author's Note: I love Teacher Tech. And Medic Tech. And Dom Tech. Sensing a theme here. I’ve been writing a bunch of fluff lately, so here’s a little somethin’ nasty I did in my spare time.

Summary: Tech wants to take the Marauder for a test flight after some adjustments, but decides to give you a piloting lesson beforehand.

Relationships: Tech/Fem!Reader

Warnings: NSFW, All smut, Porn without plot, Cockwarming, Competency kink, Sex in the Marauder, Lap sitting, Tech decides to be your teacher but are you really learning anything?, A little bit of praise kink, Unprotected sex, creampies, Technically semi-public sex,

Word count: 1959

"Now, what do you do first?"

Tech's voice is firm but gentle in your ears, speaking with his usual smooth tone. If one listens you might be able to hear the tiniest bit of strain, but your heart is thumping in your ears so loudly you aren't able to notice it yourself.

He's been meaning to take the Marauder for a simple test flight. He’s been doing some, unauthorized work on the ship, and decided to use their current shore leave on Coruscant as a chance to make sure everything was in working order.

It will be; Tech just needs to be thorough.

But you’ve never flown a ship before, thinking as you look over the control panel that might as well be speaking a dead language. Tech has spoken a million different times before about it, but you have no actual real world experience.

All of his brothers have decided to hit one of the mid-levels for some food and drinks; And with Tech not being much of a fan of that type of scene, and having work to do, he decided to stay back here in the ship. You'd showed up after they'd already left, so no one but Tech knows you're here with him.

You remember the first time he showed you the Marauder; his pride and joy. You’d asked so many questions you almost turned blue in the face, and he answered every one of them with the gusto of a man with a love of the craft and pride in his work.

He had promised to take you on a flight one day, and when he had it was some of the most fun you'd ever had together. And not moments after he'd landed he promised that one day, he'd teach you. He saw the opportunity to share his knowledge and held it out for you, and you'd accepted his potential future lesson.

And while it's been awhile since he'd promised to teach you how to fly, last you checked he hadn't mentioned some of the more, intimate details were apparently included in this lesson.

His armor is cold and unyielding against the backs of your thighs, as you sit firmly spread in his lap. Your underwear are tangled around one ankle, legs spread over his. His cock is stuffing you full, but he isn't moving even a fraction; Instead torturing you like this.

When you don't answer the first question on his verbal test, he sighs.

"Do I need to perhaps repeat myself? I thought you were smarter than this." One of your hands rests on the armrest; It's the only thing grounding you as your cunt flutters around him.

“Tech, I, I don’t remember.” He has the gall to make an unamused noise, as if him fucking you gormless should be just a minor inconvenience.

“Clearly I didn’t teach you thoroughly enough. Or you were not listening.” He feels the way your groan, adjusting your position in his lap as your hands hover in front of the controls. When you do it's impossible not to feel the way his cock shifts inside of you, trying hard to not let out an embarrassing moan.

“You, set course with the Navicomputer,” Tech hums.

“Lock in the destination, then warm up the, the,” his hand brushes over your clit, fingertips feeling just above where he’s buried inside of you.

“Words, love. Do you remember how to use them?”

Snarky ass.

“The engines. You would warm up the engines.” He gives an approving noise, rubbing circles around your clit. He's so composed, his voice barely cracks despite the fact that you can feel his cock throbbing inside of you, almost painfully hard.

"Now, would you like to put it to practice?" Leaning his head down he presses his lips to the soft spot of your neck just behind your ear, feeling how your neck instantly moves to give him more access to such a sensitive spot.

"Tech you, you can't be serious..." You can't see his face at this angle, but you can tell by the tone in his voice that his eyebrows are more than likely raised in an unamused expression.

"It is not often at all that I am not serious." You let out a desperate whine, just hoping for this sweet torture he's decided to put you through to end.

"Tech I, I can't even think straight, I'm not going to be able to fly this..."

His other hand brushes over your hip, while the other is still firmly nestled between your thighs. You can hear every little motion his fingers make, pussy slopping wet against his fingers and around his cock.

"Then at least show me you can prepare the ship as if we were going go depart."

As if it's just so easy, you think; Swallowing the thick knot in your throat. His chest is still pressed against your back as he adjusts slightly underneath you, and neither of you can stop the little noises you make from even such a small movement.

At least this torture is going both ways, as you can feel the heat radiating off his face while you look forward.

Ok, you've seen Tech do this multiple times now... And he's right here. It's not like you're actually going to fly; You just need to show him you can turn everything on.

That isn't that hard, right?

You lean forward, gritting your teeth and whining at the way his cock feels even deeper inside of your as your stomach folds, stuffing your cunt and leaving not a centimeter of room.

The navicomputer is set, you press the correct buttons to lock it in, and whimper at the way his fingers firmly brush over your clit. He's done so well being composed thus far, but you can hear his harder breaths; Feel the way he's trying not to thrust his hips upward into you. Pulling his lips away from your neck he leans up, looking over your head to watch your hands.

Locking the destination in you lean back, letting out a large shaky breath as your shoulderblades press against his chest armor. He hasn't scolded you yet, so you must have done everything right so far.

"Then, you start the engine with... Those buttons, warm them up, and then the throttle." Tech's fingers press against your clit harder, deftly teasing you and groaning at the way you tighten around him.

"Good girl. I knew I taught you well."

You've never heard Tech call you anything like that before; But gods, what you wouldn't give to hear him say it again.

His hands drift to hold you by the hips and help you move in his lap, moaning as you finally get some form of friction for your efforts. You just barely lift off of his lap, hearing the sound of your bare skin against his armor. One of your hands grasps his forearm, the other the arm of the seat as you bite your lip hard. Top bunched upward it's normally quite cold in the Marauder, but you couldn't be less so as Tech thrusts his cock deep into you.

"How, do you jump to hyperspace?"

He suddenly blurts out, and you can feel him already starting to slow down to dull what little pleasure you've finally gotten your hands on. It's almost impossible not to just cry right then and there, your head lolling back against his shoulder as you whine.

"Tech!" He responds just as swift as one might expect.

"Answer me, or I will stop."

Cruel, snarky ass.

"Fuck Tech, I, I don't know..." HIs hands keep grinding you into his lap, feeling the way your body leans into him.

"You know the answer; I taught you."

You lean forward just enough to gesture at the correct things, groaning as you already feel so close to cumming, but he keeps you from reaching it.

"That one, that one, and-" You bite your lip as your stomach tightens, feeling the way his cock shifts and throbs inside of you. "That one." It seems like you're right, judging by the way he hums approvingly.

"It seems like you were actually listening." You attempt to fuck yourself on him, but Tech's surprising strength keeps you from making any significant movement upward or forward. You spit out your desperation in words, pleading with an almost angry sounding tone.

"Gods Tech, please just fuck me or I swear..." Maybe he decides to give you a bit of mercy, or perhaps he himself can't take his own torture; As a moan slips from his throat and his hips thrust upward. His hands don't even stop you as you grip the armrests, grinding yourself against him as much as your body can manage.

He's been teasing you at this for so long now, it doesn't take much to make you cum at all, your thighs quaking as you tighten around him. He almost feels like you're going to suffocate him, and he can't help but let out moan loud enough to echo through the ship.

Even if the fear of anyone seeing or hearing you from outside the ship is unwarranted, given the area outside the civilian hanger where you're landed is practically abandoned, it still crosses your mind once or twice as you glance out the viewport. It's not a thought that sticks however, within moments it's gone from your head as Tech keeps bouncing you on his lap. And whatever composure he's managed to hold up until this point is quickly crumbling away, his voice strained in your ear as his hands tightly grip your body. Tech has always had a surprising amount of strength, and while he isn't gripping you enough to hurt, it is showing how strong his lithe arms really are as he fucks you.

You can feel the moment he cums by the way he lets out a strained, choked groan, his head leaning forward enough that it hits the side of your head. Your heart is pounding in your chest, and having been sitting in his lap so long off the ground, your feet are almost starting to fall asleep.

The ship now only echoes with the sound of both of you and Tech's heavy breathing, your body limp as you lay back against him. His hands now lay much more gently against your body, one against your thigh and the other your hip.

When he shifts underneath you, he can feel the way his own cum leaks out of you and over his cock, a feeling he'll secretly never grow tired of.

You can feel his soft breaths on the back of your head, him just as out of breath as you are. It's a quiet moment, and you take a moment to just enjoy it.

Until you feel him lean forward, and adjust something on the control panel just within reach. And in your tired, ecstasy driven fatigue, you comment.

"Tech, you're seriously still going to do a test flight after all of that? I can barely move..." He doesn't react to your bafflement as you expect, and instead still attempts to maintain his almost always present composure. Even if it had just been melted away only moments ago.

"You can stay on my lap, if you would prefer." You'd prefer to take a nap; Especially given the haggard state of what few articles of clothing you currently have on.

"Let's just, wait a minute." As much as Tech might want to do what he had originally planned, having you here with him sways his judgement enough so that he can put it off, just a little bit longer.

"Alright, we can wait for a little while."

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