#but really just love a ratbag character

[nonna-carmela]

No one seems to be watching this show - but let it be known that this was the moment I was like ‘oh, ok I’m going to love this’

[mattnott]

meet the writer + rules

hi hi! my name is zoya, but you can call me zya or come up with your own nickname for me!!

about me: i’m an adult, a leo, ravenclaw, and i currently live in europe. my first language is portuguese, my second is spanish, and i’m in my last year of college studying political science and international relations.

hobbies: i’m an ice skater, i make music, play guitar, plus enjoy reading and writing (tho slowly, because i’m a slow person in everything).

likes: i’m really into dark stuff—gothic, blood, and especially talking about cannibalism (i know, a bit weird, but i love it). i’m into history, greek mythology, astronomy. i’m also a huge fan of ballet, horror movies, especially the gory ones, and tim burton’s films are also a huge favorite, though i also have an obsession with tbosas and the sb as well.

favorite artists: allison ponthier, ethel cain, beabadoobee, madilyn mei, arctic monkeys, ricky montgomery, mitski, laufey, kate bush, ratbag, hozier, and the neighbourhood.

rules:

if you’re a minor, please unfollow me. most of my work is +18 and has specific kinks that some might find disturbing. plus, a lot of what i reblog includes gore and other things not suitable for anyone under 18.

i don’t write incest, virgin characters (including the reader), specific body types, deceases and noncon.

my asks are always open if you want to chat; i love responding to any questions or messages you send my way, so feel free to talk or rant.

!!! any hate against me or one of my readers/moots will be reported and blocked.

my profile isn’t a safe space for rude or mean people. if you have an issue with any content, that’s not my problem—just block me or others who post similar content. sending me anon hate won’t change anything and definitely won’t make me feel guilty about something i didn’t even write.

!!! you’re responsible for your own media consumption

[pynkhues]

I'm 10 for 10 again this month! 😎 Although I kinda cheated, because it's September 1 here already, and I only watched His House this afternoon, haha. A few thoughts:

Asteroid City (2023). Full disclaimer: I am a fan of Wes Anderson, but I really loved this one. Most I've liked Scarlett Johansson in a role in a while (wouldn't think she'd go that well with his tone, but controversially, maybe, I think she can actually be a really good actress with the right material), and the road runner puppet is literally everything to me.

-

Talk to Me (2023). So thrilled to see more suburban Australian ratbag kids repped in horror! And very happy for Rackaracka with the success of this. It's a bit gimmicky, and I don't think the relationships are developed enough, but it worked for me overall. The bit where the boy gets possessed is! A Lot!

-

His House (2020). Full disclaimer with this one, but I have a friend who I've also worked with a few times (he's an emerging filmmaker) who's a refugee from South Sudan and had spent a number of years in a refugee camp in Egypt with his infant brothers as a teenager before he was granted asylum in Australia and became a citizen in his early twenties, and we talked about this movie when it came out and he really put me off watching it.

He had gone in excited both as a fan of horror and as a South Sudanese refugee curious as to a horror movie about South Sudanese refugees, and he hated it. I can't speak to any of this, of course, but he told me that to him it felt soaked in Nigerian culture - something particularly pertinent given both the lead actors were of Nigerian heritage, not South Sudanese as the characters were, and given the story was written by two white writers, and the screenplay and direction done by a Black man from North London, I think it really underscores his points.

He felt his culture, his trauma and his community had been bastardised and exploited for a movie that wasn't actually invested in meaningfully engaging with it and treated African cultures as interchangeable when they aren't.

He still thought I should watch it, because we often talk about horror movies together when we see each other, and he still felt like it needed to be seen for better things to be made in the future, but - - yeah. I can't say his review had me rushing to see it. Anyway, yes! Watching it this afternoon, I think I was definitely impacted by that bias, but I also don't know if it works in general? Wunmi Mosaku and Sope Dirisu are both great actors, and there's some powerful cinematography, but the script jars and the pace feels uneven. I don't know, I think it had some interesting ideas about haunted houses and positioned itself compellingly as a grief narrative, but didn't steep us enough in the relationship between Rial and Bol to truly deliver.

-

Embrace of the Serpent (2015). Haunting. Going to be thinking about this one forever, I think, and not sure I have the words to talk about it yet.

-

The Wolf House (2018). Kind of embarrassed to say that I knew nothing about the Colonia Dignidad cult prior to watching this, and have since listened to and read SO MUCH about it. This stop motion film is the darkest of fairytales, and is kind of a movie in a movie? The idea is that it's been created by the cult as a propaganda film for the real children who tried to escape it, and it speaks so eloquently both to trauma and violence at the heart of the colony. It's really, really affecting.

-

All the Beauty and the Bloodshed (2022). I'd desperately tried to see this doco at the cinemas last year, and was so frustrated when I could never quite make it work. Just going to share my Letterboxd review here:

Pretty staggering both as an intimate personal portrait, a searing indictment on the politicians and the 1% who profit politically and financially of the HIV and opioid epidemics respectively, a call for community, a call to arms. Just - - yeah. Gonna be thinking about this one for a while.

-

The Eagle Huntress (2016). Bit of a mess, really. The story of a Mongolian girl becoming an eagle huntress is genuinely amazing, but the filmmakers are so desperate to make it fit into a western girl-power box that it feels more patronising than not.

-

Fire (1996). I was only a teenager when I saw the final installment in Deepa Mehta's Elements trilogy, Water, but it quickly became a favourite, yet somehow I've never actually gone back and watched the other two films in the (thematically as opposed to narratively) linked series. All the movies focus on a 'taboo' relationship in India - Water about a widow in an ashram falling for the local doctor, Earth, I believe (I still haven't seen it, haha) being about lovers of different faiths, and Fire is about a lesbian relationship between two unhappily married women.

It's pretty dated now, really, but Deepa Mehta has such an incredible sense of sensuality and intimacy, that the scenes between Sita and Radha as they slowly navigate this blossoming relationship are genuinely beautiful, and make it a lot easier to forgive some of the movies sins. Definitely worth the watch, especially given it's the first lesbian Bollywood movie ever (!)

-

Ginger Snaps (2000). I cannot believe that I hadn't seen this before! It's such a girl-horror classic, and I'm v pleased to say it holds up for a first viewing. So much fun! Werewolves as a metaphor for puberty is always delightful, but this just leans into menstruation and body hair and that teenage girl anger in all the best ways. Loved it.

-

A Long Day's Journey into Night (2018). Tang Wei is it, baby! Otherwise this is more an exercise in atmosphere and long shots than anything else. Wish it was better, but at least Tang can chew scenery with the best of them.

August movie challenge

While there's still a week left to go for the July movie challenge, 'I've had a few new followers here over the last two weeks, so thought I might share next month's challenge earlier so people have time to make their picks.

As always, this is an all-for-fun monthly scavenger hunt for people who love movies and want the chance to watch something they maybe wouldn't ordinarily have. Feel free to share what you're watching, or just pick a couple of prompts to get you started.

1. We're more than halfway through the year! Watch any movie released in 2023. 2. A24 is not a part of the AMPTP and is working with the striking workers and the unions to continue making independent films, so watch any A24 film. 3. The AV Club recently made a list of their Top 20 haunted house films. Watch one of the movies on this list or any other haunted house film. 4. Watch a movie set in the wilderness. 5. Watch a movie based on mythology or folklore. Some suggestions. 6. Watch a movie directed by a woman. Some suggestions. 7. Watch a movie with an animal in the title. 8. India is celebrating its Independence Day this month. Watch any Indian film. 9. Here's a list of movies about girlhood. Watch one of them! 10. The colour of the month is green! Watch any movie with a predominantly green poster.

[finmoryo]

Gonna play Shadow of Mordor even though I care about lore too much and this game apparently takes canon out back to be shot

[wellship]

Hey so you’re like zosan gospel to me bc you are the ONLY person who’s done zosan in a way that i like. Do you have any fic rec for them?? I wanna try and Get It but i really don’t unless it’s your comics—a Lot of other zosan is either ooc or ooc and fujoshi.

Also i really really dig ur art and your writing for your comics, you grasp the characters of op (esp sanji) in such an iconic way idk its in character but also so much more mature at the same time, i respect it.

(Also also sorry if you don’t answer asks on this blog i just figured the ship fic rec ask should go to the ship blog)

Thank you so much for the kind words!! It's extremely flattering to think I can be showing people what zosan can be, HAHA. I know exactly where you're coming from. I was a young gay teen/tween when I first got into One Piece, and so I saw some potential chemistry between Zoro and Sanji, but it seemed like every other person I saw shipping them was shipping them for totally different reasons to me. It felt like a lot of them were totally ignoring what made their dynamic unique.

So I just kind of stopped trying to engage with other shippers and watched/read the whole series in a vacuum LMAO. The way I interpret the ship ended up shielded from the popular zosan vibe. I see them get forced into very strict, stereotypical roles that don't really match up with their personalities at all, like... the whole appeal of them, to me, is that they're as similar as they are different? Neither of them are going to be stoic all the time or none of the time, or bashful, or aggressive, etc... They can both easily have either of those traits depending on circumstance. A relationship where they end up stuck in the same roles forever just... isn't Zosan to me, haha. Obviously a lot of it is heteronormativity, too. A lot of preconceptions about how a relationship has to have one "wife" role and one "husband" role and then what those roles dictate... etc etc. Not only is that not really how gay couples work, full stop, it's also just totally not how zosan works LMAO

Sorry for rambling, this is kind of off-topic. I guess because you said you wanted to understand the ship I thought I'd explain a bit of why it appeals to me. At the end of the day I like their canon dynamic, I think there's a lot of love and trust behind it already, I just think it's totally possible there could be a layer of romantic love to it, too. Ultimately they both know the other person is someone they understand, and can rely on - being able to predict someone's actions, even if they're actions that are going to piss you off or which you'll disagree with, is a kind of comfort and stability, lol. They know each other inside and out. And also, it must be a load off each others' mind for them to think, "now there's a guy I don't have to look out for".

ALRIGHT ACTUALLY ONTO THE QUESTION YOU ASKED: I don't read a lot of fics, teehee! [Gets run over by a semi] BUT I can tell you right now you can't go wrong with anything by demonzoro on AO3. They have a really nuanced and beautiful comprehension of their relationship and their dynamic. They give zosan a lot of depth and emotion that's very compelling and sincere. I recommend starting off with And Then The Sun Came Out, which has been described as a "slow burn speedrun". The visuals in this fic...... they haunt me

I don't have any specific fic to link, but I also often enjoy the way 8ball (also on AO3) portrays them. It's a bit different from the dynamic I give them, but what I've read is good, well-founded, and draws you in. They also do doodles on Twitter - I've been greatly enjoying the childhood AU comics they've been posting currently.

On that note, if you like the ratbag dynamic I give zosan then you'll probably also enjoy pierogiy's stuff on Twitter, especially if, like me, you enjoy kicking Sanji around like a football

Thank you again for the kind words on my writing/characterisation of them! A lot of comic work focuses on the art but I work hard on the writing too, so this feedback means a lot!

[cuddlytogas]

10 characters, 10 fandoms, 10 tags

tagged by @bookshelfdreams! <3 also not all characters I've created fanworks around, but what can you do

1. John Watson - A Study in Scarlet

I mean, yeah, technically he's my best and favourite boy in any iteration, but there's something particularly compelling and heart-melting about his first appearance. Injured and jaded, falling back on his pension and hotels, and then meeting this extraordinary man who seems to know everything and blushes at praise and whom Watson is desperate to figure out. "I have another set of vices when I'm well, but those are the principal ones at present." I would die for him.

2. Horatio - Hamlet

I'm such a sucker for an observer. Toby Schmitz once said that Horatio is a yes-man and not really important to the play, and now I can't watch Black Sails. Holding onto the prince and digging in his fingernails to try and keep him steady, and failing anyway, left to pick up the pieces and tell the tale, a vessel for grief. Jacob Warner was ROBBED by not being given his final speech.

3. Eowyn - The Lord of the Rings

What is there to say? A woman who grieves and fights and helps save the world, and then gets to heal afterwards.

4. Ed Teach - Our Flag Means Death

Speaking of healing: oh my god, please just this man rest... Born and raised in violence, a man in his forties just now being given the space to be soft and vulnerable and loved and happy... Please, I love him so much. He's been hurt so many times, and he just deserves to heal. <3

5. Greta Gill - A League of Their Own (2022)

still speaking of healing: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

6. Jonathan Sims - The Magnus Archives

It was hard to choose for this show, but I am simply too much of a sucker for 'doomed from the start' characters (c.f. number 2 above...). He tried so hard, and he still ultimately failed. But my god, did he try.

7. Inspector Firstname Javert - Les Misérables

I am taking every single adaptation writer by the shoulders and rattling them. What about "mixed-race man raised in poverty and buying into the lie of law=religion=morality at the expense of his own humanity, convinced that he is always-already the Other, who is ultimately so shocked at an act of kindness and mercy that he rethinks his entire life and feels compelled to end it" made you decide to make him a one-track-mind villain? And how is Stars still the perfect song??

8. Sasha Racket - Rusty Quill Gaming

I almost went with Zolf on this one, but y'know what? Sasha........... just Sasha. Again with the "tried so hard" vibe. She went through so much shit and still came out shockingly kind-hearted under all that awkwardness, and she stood by her friends, and she deserved every mote of happiness and contentment that ever came to her. I would kill for her. [Grizzop voice] Please ask me to kill for her.

9. Dave Lister - Red Dwarf

You know what? You know what????? He's a gross little scumbag, and he's the last human being alive, and he's suffered so much at the hands of Sitcom Syndrome, but god, give him any chance to be remarkably kind and he will be. Man has had multiple chances to let Arnold Judas Motherfucking Rimmer die, and he still refuses to, because not even Rimmer deserves that shit. Radical empathy. Ratbag. The embodiment of existential depression. I love him.

10. Victoria Di Loredani - Zofloya; or, The Moor

Shoutout to THE blorbo from my thesis <33333 unhinged and obsessive queen of gaslighting her husband for disrespecting her and then immediately getting sick of him and falling in love with his brother, that brother's fiancee, AND his servant. teaming up with satan to destroy the family, I mean, she is truly everything to me uvu

gonna tag just @verecunda, because I am terribly lazy, but if you're looking for an excuse to indulge, take this as your excuse!!

[theplanetprince]

Amity Park Anomalies || CH.1

Fic: AO3 | FFN

Fandom: Danny Phantom

Characters/Relationships: Wesley Weston, Dash Baxter, Sidney Poindexter

Fic Summary:  Local paranormal Skeptic Wesley Weston aka Atlasdunked and paranormal enthusiast Dash Baxter aka Hisdudefriday discuss and explore the issues plaguing their town. Amity Park is a hotbed for supernatural activity, and who’s to say that’s all there is? We follow two amateur investigators trying to uncover the monsters under your bed, and the things that go bump in the night. They answer the questions you’re too afraid to ask.

Chapter Summary: Wes and Dash start the first episode of their podcast with a bang with the mysterious circumstances involving Sidney Poindexter and his doomed class.  Content warnings: Chemical poisoning, mentions of cancer, mentions of animal harm, mentions of mass murder. Mild Language. Ratbag Teens being Ratbags. 

“You don’t know Amity Park unless you know tragedy. And for tonight’s unfortunate and unforgettable soul, he was well acquainted. Every Casper High Freshman knows about the haunted locker and its occupant Sidney Hershel Poindexter. Welcome to the first installment of… of…?” Dash covered his microphone, glancing over to his cohost. The skinny ginger was spinning a basketball on his middle finger, looking unimpressed. 

 The quarterback whispered-yelled, “What name did we decide on?” 

 The fellow jock gave a taciturn smirk. The basketball player mouthed, ‘Ghostbusters.’

 Unamused, Dash Baxter pouted. He should have known that the ginger would be unhelpful. Too late to recast now; Kwan was already nice enough to demo the equipment. He didn’t want to bother him anymore. Apparently, it was Scrabble night. Wes wasn’t a bad candidate by any means, a little full of himself, sure. Wes needed a hobby. In Dash’s professional opinion— Wes was… dull. The only reason why Wes was available was that he literally had no life outside of the basketball court. From playing together, Dash knew Wes played the game somewhat selfishly, not passing and risking fouls to make impossible shots. They had gotten into spirited debates on away games if Amity Park really was cursed. Dash thought they were engaging conversations, sure. When the quarterback approached Wes about this project— he had surprised Dash by agreeing to it. Though quickly, he said he was mostly in it to prove definitively that ghosts were not real. So really, this was all just a big bet to see which one of them would cave first and admit who was right. 

 Hurriedly, Dash uncovered his mike, “Welcome to the first installment of Amity Park Anomalies!” 

 The readout peaked and blew out in sync with the quarterback’s voice crack. 

 The shooting-guard leaned into the microphone before cooly stating, “Tentative title.” 

He then pressed a button on the sound effect board, prompting canned studio audience laughter to exit the speakers.

 Shake it off, Baxter, shake it off.

He dragged a folder across the desk, introducing, “Uh, hi. My username is His-dude-Friday. For simplicity’s sake, you can just call me Friday, I guess.” 

 His cohost snorted, “Oh yeah, anonymity. Like all six people listening in aren’t gonna know who we are.” 

 Finally fed up with his attitude— Dash smacked the back of his cohost’s head. The sound of the basketball hitting the floor and rolling away also appeared on the audio readout. 

 “Alright! Jeez! Hey, my username is Atlas-dunked, but all you—” The ginger waggled his eyebrows suggestively, “Lovely, lovely, people out there in cyberspace can call me Wes.” 

 Wes poked another button on the soundboard, eliciting a sound effect of swooning girls. 

 “I apologize for him,” Dash mumbled. He opened one of his school folders containing some of the black and white low-toner print-outs of articles he grabbed from the library. Doing some last-minute organizing of his research material, the quarterback posed a question, “So Wes, what do you know about Casper High alumnus?” 

 “For those of you at home, I’m putting my hand on my chin.” 

 “Rather smugly, I might add,” The football player remarked. 

 After a pause of the basketball player looking towards the ceiling with a mock-pensive expression, Wes chuckled, “You got me; I don’t know my Casper High lore as well as someone on the student council. Enlighten me.” 

 Wes took off his headphones, and they clattered against Dash’s desk. He tracked down the dusty ball that wedged itself under Dash’s bed. 

 Dash fanned out his papers and selected his first one, “Some accolades under our high school’s banner include: Crazy Carl of Crazy Carl’s Used Car Lot? Graduating class of eighty-seven.” 

 “Wow—  Fascinating .” 

 Slightly irritated, Dash picked up the microphone stand. Reaching towards Wes for his comment, he asked, “Say again? I don’t think the mike got it.” 

 “I said that’s so interesting. I am practically moist.” Wes sneered, kicking his ball free. 

 Baxter chuckled, albeit still disgusted, “Dude— C’mon, take this seriously.” 

 “Then tell me something serious!” Wes exclaimed, glaring at one of the posters on the wall— it was some german horror movie Wes had never seen before. He had no desire to either. The basketball player should have known Dash had a pretentious side. Wes guffawed, “I know we aren’t talking about Crazy Carl actually going crazy.” 

 “It’s called building suspense!” 

 Wes blinked at the soulless monster on the poster staring down at him. The monster was very clearly a man in terrible make-up. You could see where the brush missed parts of the actor’s face. Parts of the pale make-up were coming off with the sweat and studio lights—fake plastic teeth jutting out of the actor’s mouth. The basketball player was trying to assert dominance over a poster in a staring contest no one was having. Why couldn’t Dash be a  normal red-blooded American male and have busty ladies adorning his walls instead? No, Dash had to believe in the absurd like vampires, ghouls, and ghosts— 

 The poster told Wes everything he needed to know about Dash Baxter. Dash could only handle scary if he could turn it off. If the fear was completely artificial. If the fear was something he could justify with reality. Dash has never been truly scared in his life. The quarterback had never been face to face with something that genuinely made him ponder his little time left on this rock of a planet. Wes was going to change that. Wes was certain Dash didn’t actually fear the paranormal because Dash, deep down, knew that it was all fake. In the meantime, Wes was going to annoy the shit of him too. Really that was just a signing bonus.

Wes spun his ball in his hand, idly— before sauntering back to the desk with a grin on his face, putting his headphones back on. The headband cracked with Wes’ exaggerated and deliberate movements. Wes leaned and curled around the basketball resting on his lap, “Continue, Dashell.” 

 “Thank you.” The quarterback said. He took a moment to adjust his sitting position, and he shook out the muscles in his arms before getting back into his flow. Dash tapped the next passage, “Mr Burkowitz of the Amity Park Video rental, he graduated in the late seventies, went into the navy…” 

 “Oh apparently, Author Stephen H.G Phillips graduated class of seventy-seven…” Dash began, hopefully. He then folded over the articles he stapled together, starting at the top of the next page, “before he was found dead in his manor outside of town in his late twenties.”

 “Ouch.” Wes was half tempted to hit another sound effect on the board, but Baxter shot him a disapproving glance. 

 “Let’s see…” Dash inched his finger along the page, squinting between the blobs of letters, “Famed petty crook, Jeremy Tris— Trisdek— It’s something greek. Jeremy Trisdeka is all I’m gettin’. He dropped out in nineteen-eighty-three before getting hit by a train on the run from the cops after he shot his foster father in cold blood. He would have been nineteen at the time of death, but reportedly his foster parents tried putting him through high school despite him only having a sixth-grade education.” 

 Okay, slightly less boring. Wes could agree on that. The shooting-guard nodded, stifling a laugh, “I heard something about that guy; he thought he was playing cowboy against ol’ Johnny law… well until he was pancaked. He walked the line until he could walk no more. He fought the law, and the locomotion won. He—” 

 “Are you done?” 

 “One more?” 

 With a sigh, Baxter acquiesced, “Fine. Go ahead.” 

 Wes snatched the microphone off the table before the quarterback could change his mind. He snapped his fingers before butchering a well-known gospel tune, “JERAMAIAH WAS A BIKER— HE WAS A DEAR FRIEND OF MINE. I NEVER UNDERSTOOD A SINGLE WORD HE SAID BECAUSE HE GOT FLATTENED BY THE A-LINE.” 

 “That was Wes,” Dash threw off his headphones and steepled his hands in front of his nose, “Proving that he doesn’t have a face for television or a voice for radio.”  

 “Hey, at least my vocal cords are done growing, okay?” Weston pushed Dash’s shoulder, “Lest ye cast the first stone who is without judgment.” 

 “Just so we’re clear. We’ve barely cracked the lid on the story I wanted to cover and so far—” Dash began to count the offenses on his fingers, “You have mocked two dead people, butchered a beloved song, got up and wandered away— I’ll add misquoting the bible to make fun of me to the list.” 

 “That isn’t the bible, you ignoramus.” He sat up and raised a brow.

 “... I will fact check you live, and I don’t want it to come down to that, Wes.” Dash readjusted the volume on his headset and put them on again. 

 While gesturing, Wes knocked his knuckles against Dash’s computer monitor, “And what are the dead guys gonna do to me—? They’re dead! I’m alive. I’d say I already have a head start.” 

 “Actually, that gives me an excellent segue.” Dash pointed to his computer, a knowing smile inching across his cheek, “On your side of the desk, I already loaded up the Casper High library register. I want you to tell me if you notice anything weird about the page.” 

 “I can tell you about four things that’s weird about your computer. Firstly, what’s with the carebear stickers?” 

 “Just read the screen!” Dash stole the basketball from Wes’s lap and bounced it against his cohost’s forehead. 

 “Alright! Keep your shirt on— jeez!” Wes rubbed his face bitterly as he analyzed the webpage for anything unusual. Really it was poorly designed. Comic sans everywhere it didn’t need to be. Big grey windows with clashing saturated school colors. It’s a graphic designer’s nightmare. Weston murmured this observation into the recording device. It was open specifically on the reference section, the search was narrowed on Casper High yearbooks. Begrudgingly humoring the charade, Weston narrated his findings as he scrolled, “...Casper High nineteen-sixty-four, Casper High nineteen-sixty-three, Casper High nineteen-sixty-two—” 

 “You wanna read that back to me one more time?” Dash tapped the monitor. 

 Wes glowered at the request before fixing his gaze back on the computer. He went down the list again. The covers weren’t anything particularly special for the era. They were undoubtedly more well thought out and purposeful than the Casper High website. They were hardback books bound with a faux leather material embroidered with the Casper High colors, purple and red. The crow logo was either stitched in the center or lower right corner. The quality has certainly gone downhill with the budget. Noticeably the stitching on the books and the binding was more noticeable after nineteen-sixty— 

 “There’s a gap here,” Wes finally said, turning to Dash.

 The knowledgeable look the quarterback had plastered on his face deepened with his lack of response. With a flick of his fingers, Dash rolled his wrist, signaling for Wes to continue. 

 An odd sensation pooled at the bottom of his chest. It pulled at his lungs. However, he couldn’t identify the source. Slowly Wes articulated, “Th-there is no yearbook for nineteen-sixty-two.” 

 “Mhmm.” Dash hummed and leaned to the microphone with a sing-songy tone, “ Do you wanna know why? ” 

 “It’s obviously some kind of clerical error,” Wes dismissed; The ache in his lungs did not abate. The shooting guard refreshed the page, “there’s nothing otherworldly about someone checking out an old yearbook.” 

 “See, that’s what I thought at first, but I checked it out in person, and there was a huge supply of donated yearbooks— like hundreds— from the three years behind nineteen-sixty-two.” Dash rolled across his floor, being careful of the tether to his computer. He retrieved his backpack and dropped a stack of dusty tomes onto his desk, “Practically bursting out of the storage boxes. So you have hundreds of copies of Casper High years nineteen-fifty-nine to nineteen-sixty-one. Like there’s a sarcastic amount of documentation about these three years, but nothing about sixty-two.” Dash concluded with complete confidence, “It doesn’t exist.” 

“It doesn’t exist?” Wes replied incredulously. Scanning the covers of each book, fifty-nine through to sixty-one, sixty-three, seventy-seven, then finally eighty-three. Raising a brow, he squinted at his acquaintance. The expression on his face read as someone trying to find the kindest way to call someone a moron. Obviously, the sixty-two yearbook had to exist. That was indisputable. 

 Sensing Wes’ reservations, the king jock took a thin book from the center of the pile. Dash began to thumb through it, “Maybe at one point it did exist.” The plastic-coated pages gave a satisfying crack as they were peeled apart, “But according to the library, it doesn’t. According to the trophy case, according to the school records— the year nineteen-sixty-two  did not happen .” 

 Dash slid over the thin laminated paper-back. This book in question was the yearbook for nineteen-sixty-three. It was significantly gutted compared to the years prior. It matched the website image and description. It was a cheap flimsy thing stapled together— much like Dash’s instant print notes. It had a checker and jack pattern with dots scattered on the cover. It was the cheapest one in the bunch. There wasn’t much in terms of padding, just pictures noticeably for maybe seventy or so students for a single freshman class, no sophomores, no juniors, no seniors. There was nothing about the clubs or extracurriculars. It was comparable to something a rural elementary school would produce. The quarterback was positively buzzing, “The messed up part about this, comparing sixty-three to sixty-one. None of these freshmen are the same. We don’t know where these kids went. Arguably they’d still be around three years later, right? They would’ve been seniors—” Dash was impassioned about this oddity, “but they’re not there!”

 Wes opened the sixty-one yearbook and pinched his fingers around a large section of the pages to find the freshman pictures. None of them matched. At first glance, it appeared what Dash was proposing was true. That something happened to the class of sixty-two. However, Wes wasn’t about to make any declaration like that any time soon. He’d sooner eat his own sneakers before admitting Dash Baxter was right about anything.

 “The school probably closed down or something.” Wes shut the book, “There were riots around that time. Vietnam? Ring any bells? They probably didn’t have enough staff to distribute around the district.” 

 “Face it,” Wes couldn’t help but chuckle at how riled up the quarterback was, “For every one fantastical option, there’s thousands of perfectly reasonable mundane explanations.”

 Furrowing his brow, Dash emphasized his point, “For one year? They would close down the school for one year?” 

 Prying up his sweatband, Wes stole a look at his watch, he yawned, “I imagine you’re about to tell me why?” 

 Mistaking Wes’ impatience as genuine interest, Dash clapped his hands together, rubbing them in anticipation, “I’m glad you asked!” 

 “Oh god, here we go.” 

 Shoving Wes’ chair back, Dash crossed his torso over the desk, the fabric of his shirt rubbing against the microphone. He switched tabs on the window from the school’s library to the public library. Dash zoomed in on digitized snippets from the local newspaper, The Amity Park Herald. Date: December fourth, nineteen-sixty-one. The headline?

  Flirting With Disaster— Household Cleaners Deadly as Mustard Gas!

 “So, the theory you’re pushing is that there was a custodial mishap of epic proportions.” Wes snickered, wiggling his fingers, “Spooky.” 

 Sitting back in his chair, the plastic wheels creaking under the weight, Dash picked up his pencil and wedged it between his headset and ear. He jutted his jaw towards the monitor, “Keep reading.”

 There was something about the way Dash’s eyes lit up. He was looking past Wes as if he was using Wes as a vessel to experience this second-hand eureka. Baxter’s vindication only steeled in the face of Weston’s mockery. 

  Local housewife Shirley Poindexter, found face down in her sparkling clean bathroom by her son. Black curly hair matted to her face, she had sustained a head injury upon losing consciousness in her unventilated water closet. She split her forehead open, blood trailing down the tile and down the bathtub wall and circling the drain, still covered in her cleaning solution. A homemade concoction of vinegar and bleach. Her glasses were found in her closed fist, implying that she had a few moments of lucidity before slipping into a permanent sleep. 

  “I just thought that she had fainted,” Her son’s statement reads, “I wake her up before I go to school every morning; she looked like she was… asleep. She seemed at peace.” 

  Shirley Poindexter was known as a delight to her neighbors and the winner of the city-wide cherry pie-making contest. Her birthday was a week away. She would have been thirty-nine. Her funeral and wake will be open casket due to the intact state the body was found in. 

 “... the autopsy revealed that Poindexter was carrying a tumor in her frontal lobe; therefore, she may not have been thinking logically when she combined the two cleaners.” Wes scrolled to read more, but the page cut off and went into an advert for the Amity Park bowling alley, then known as the Foxtrot.  

 “What does this have to do with anything?” Wes getting the idea that Dash wanted him to read fucked up shit on live air for jollies, “It just sounds like a classic case of ‘let’s give you heroin for your cough.’ Like sure, it’s screwed up— whatever, but—” 

 “But Shirley was Sidney’s mom!” While Wes was captivated by the article, Dash had opened the sixty-one yearbook in the juniors’ section. He circled the subject in red ink. A monochrome photo of a rather unfortunate-looking boy. Overbite, with two buck teeth that stuck out from under his top lip, greasy hair that fell limply above his ears, cystic acne scars, and blemishes. Coke-bottle glasses tapped up the center. The name beside the photo: Sidney H. Poindexter. 

 Wes did not want to give the impression that he was rattled by what he read, “What is your obsession with this kid, dude?” 

 “He was rumored to be the most bullied kid in Casper High history.” Dash pointed to the picture before flipping into the photos of the activities and clubs. Sidney could be seen in the background either being hassled or sitting by himself with a notebook, “There’s still graffiti in the bathrooms dedicated to mocking him, decades later. There were rumors of his family being connected to the communist party— these kids were trying to ruin his life and get him arrested or worse!” 

 Talk about bad luck. The guy’s mom died, and everyone still gave him a hard time? Still clinging to the idea that this was all some sort of misunderstanding, Weston snorted, “Spend a lot of time in the bathrooms, do you?” 

 “Ha. Ha. You’re hilarious.” Dash closed the book and climbed across the desk again. His chest nearly draping on top of Wes’ head. Switching the tabs, he found another article reporting on the rise of poisoned cats and other animals after Shirley’s death. 

 As if to corroborate the two pieces of information, Dash pulled up an image file on his computer from a scan he pulled from the sixty-one yearbook. Sidney was cleaning up after a chemistry experiment with bleach and an unmarked bottle, “It was noted that Sidney’s strongest subject was science, and he was allergic to cats.” 

 Wes blinked, dumbfounded by how large of a leap Dash was making, “Oh no,  I’m allergic to cats!” 

 “You can’t deny that this is sort of an…” The king jock picked his nail scavenging for the right word, “Angle.” 

 “Yeah,” Wes nodded his head, “its angle that occurs when a football player with too much time on his hands finds a bunch of events that barely have a connecting thread. What are you suggesting? This guy… killed his entire class in some sort of mass chemical poisoning? And no one found the bodies— and no one reported it?” 

 Dash crossed his leg at the thigh, “I’m not suggesting anything— but Sidney is the only one of the class of nineteen-sixty-two with a death certificate. Allegedly he was found stuffed in a storage locker, having died of asphyxiation.” 

 “That’s an awfully big word for you.” Picking his teeth, Wes remarked under his breath.

 There was a moment of silence as both boys turned their heads, hearing a freight train in the distance. Its horn blared in a constant unending shape until it passed over them. 

 The quarterback cocked his head towards his acquaintance, “Could you at least give me the satisfaction of telling me that it’s weird that both mother and son died of suffocation?” 

 Coiling the cord around his finger, Weston inched the microphone over to his side, “I’ll say this. You know how to tell one hell of a ghost story. But that’s all.” Wes made sure he wouldn’t be misheard, “a story.” 

 In the dim light of Dash’s red lava lamp and pale blue tinged computer screen, Wes wanted to make sure his mischievous grin was woven into his words. Dash stared down at him, realizing that this was a lost cause. 

 The doorbell rang— 

 Well, not wholly lost. Takeout, when you didn’t pay for it, was always delicious. 

 Dash removed his headphones again, “Did you get the extra eggrolls and gyoza like I asked?” 

 Wes yawned once more, this time for real, “Yeah, man!” He inched forward to the edge of his seat, “God, we’ve been sitting here for forever, my ass is numb— Sweet and sour pork here I come! If you even touch that crab rangoon, though I can’t be held responsible for what I’ll do to you.” 

 Realizing they were still, in fact, recording— Dash pressed one ear to his headset and snatched back the mike, “Uh, thank you all for joining us tonight for Amity Park Anomalies. This has been His-dude-Friday and—” 

 Wes pushed Dash away, scooting over to take his place, “Atlas-dunked!” 

 Quickly Weston smashed the applause button, “Also, this is totally not a sponsor, but the Duck Factory?” the second jock gave a kiss into the microphone, “To die for. A thousand chef kisses— tell your friends. Ghosts aren’t real, deuces!” 

 Shaking his head, Dash shoulder-checked Wes away from the recording station. He rolled up to the desk and punched the stop. The audio then appeared on to his desktop. The live viewer count only seemed to be three people. More accurately, two once Dash remembered to factor out his computer tuned into the audio stream. Not a bad night at all. 

[chamomileteainabuttercup]

Dincobb Week Day 1 - Clan of Three (SFW)

Welcome to my Dincobb Week fanfic posts! I've written stories and scenes of varying lengths and tones. For clarity I should say that most of these exist as miniature AUs of their own and have no continuity with each other or with anything else I've written about these characters, so in different pieces they may be described having different physical features, personal possessions, preferences, et cetera. (There are three exceptions which I'll note as such when they come out.) Thanks to @djarining, who helped me a lot with brainstorming and discussing my ideas!

For today I have two pieces, an SFW and an NSFW - the NSFW is scheduled to post an hour after this one.

Clan of Three

Every clan, if you think about it, must once have been just two people. A couple, or a parent and a child. A point at which someone stopped being alone, or chose to branch out from their clan of origin, and something new began.

Their situation is not really abnormal, it’s just unfamiliar. And sometimes you’ll be able to identify the moment of change or of beginning, it will be official, with the blessing of a trusted authority… but sometimes one thing will gradually blend into another and you’ll only be able to say that it has changed after it’s well established. You’ll have to recognise it for yourself.

For Din that moment of recognition comes in the middle of… nothing special. It’s a hot afternoon. They’re staying inside where it’s shady and closer to cool. He’s just coming out of the kitchen with the glass of iced tea Cobb asked him for. Cobb is sitting on the floor with Grogu sitting in the nest of his crossed legs, long and bare in the old shorts he changed into after the morning’s work. They have a picture book laid open on the floor in front of them and Cobb is reading to Grogu, changing his voice for the different characters.

“And so the lonely Wookiee growled, ‘Oh no! Oh my! I don’t know what to do!’ and — ow! Hey, you little ratbag.” Grogu’s little clawed hand had been resting on his shin, idly playing with his leg hair, and he just pinched a few strands together and pulled them. Grogu giggles as Cobb growls again, giving his best (very inauthentic but spirited) imitation of a Wookiee, wraps his arms round him and blows a raspberry on top of his head. That makes him squeal and laugh, which gets him another raspberry. “What am I gonna do with you?” Cobb asks. “Anyway,” and he resumes reading the story.

You are as its father. It’s been a long time since then, and he would politely but firmly correct anyone who called Grogu it, but those words set him on this path, and now he knows he’s not on it alone. Just when and how Cobb became a father to Grogu too, he’s unable to say, even as he looks back over the months they’ve lived together. There was no moment of blessing, only patience and kindness and growing trust and reliance. There’s no ritual or ceremony, no symbolic gift to confer membership in the clan. Cobb is part of it already. Din needs to sit down.

He keeps that thought to himself for a while. In a way, he’s treasuring it; but in another way, it troubles or at least puzzles him. He wouldn’t have expected to feel satisfied by something so informal and it seems disloyal not to feel a need to formalise things properly according to creed and tradition. Those things still matter to him, they matter deeply, they’re at the foundation of who he is and tries to be, but perhaps it’s because they don’t apply to Cobb in the same way. Cobb respects his beliefs, no question, and he tries to understand and support them, but Din suspects he’s never going to ask what one needs to do to convert. He looks sometimes at Cobb’s new armour (second-hand gear still, but they’re restoring and improving it together) and thinks about where on it would be a good spot for a mudhorn stencil. Would it be okay to go that far? Informally, but symbolically?

Grogu’s crayon drawings are getting more assured, and he frequently draws the three of them as a group, smiles so wide they come off the sides of their faces (he just draws a smile onto the front of Din’s helmet to make it clear he’s happy). There’s a symbol for you. He used to stick close to Din when they all walked somewhere together, regardless of where Cobb was, but now he always toddles along between them, and he loves if it they each reach down and grab one of his hands and lift him up and give him a swing back and forth. He squeals and giggles — and that’s another thing, since they’ve been living with Cobb he’s noticed more and more laughter from Grogu. He was never really a timid kid, despite everything he’d gone through before Din found him, but he’s become noticeably more confident and exuberant, and Din has to think it’s from having a settled, comfortable home with not one but two people who love him and also love each other. Cobb encourages that side of him; they’ve settled into roles where Din is generally the more calm and gentle parent, Cobb the more playful one. Din is more likely to rock Grogu to sleep; Cobb is more likely to bounce him in the air. When Grogu gets really mischievous and Din is exasperated but still amused, he’ll accuse Cobb of teaching him to be a gremlin, and Cobb will laugh back and say that’s all you can expect from a Tatooine feral.

They’re in bed one very early morning when they both wake to the sound of a thump followed by little scuttling footsteps in the kitchen. Cobb groans quietly and snuggles up to Din’s back as they both listen drowsily for any sounds of disaster demanding action. There’s a wooden clatter — that sounded like the broomstick falling over. Then a strange sound kind of like rain that has Din baffled until he starts to suspect it’s dry spaghetti falling on a tiled floor.

“Your son’s getting into some shit,” Cobb mumbles.

Din thinks about how comfortable he is right now and how dark it still is outside. He’s a dutiful parent, but he’s human, and he’s not in this alone any more. “Before sunrise,” he mumbles back, “he’s your son.”

There’s a moment’s quiet, and he wonders if he overstepped by saying that. In the kitchen, there’s a sound he’d tentatively identify as an egg breaking on the floor. Cobb grumbles and puts a kiss on his shoulder, and whispers, “I want your clean-out-the-fridge fried rice for dinner.” Then he rolls over, gets out of bed and shuffles off, bare feet whispering on the floor. Din rolls on his back, stretches out his legs, and listens for the sounds of two of his clan of three.

[pairup-squareup]

lets talk about why r u ep 8, my friends!

some praise: the subs were on point this week. they are still, unfortunately translating clingy as ‘cringing’ but honestly, compared to previous episodes? they were timed right, they made sense. i hope they redo previous episodes.

lets get to some connntent

I’m so very glad this show is as horny as it is. I’m glad the actors are getting to be creative with the way they kiss. It makes everything flow, the difference between something you have control over vs someone else’s ideas for intimacy.

Tutor and Fighter’s dynamic is phenomenal. Fighter, released from the prison of repressed feelings is just exploding, he is crazy for affection. And Tutor is very much into being the one who guides it. Great work, a+, the kiss on the adam’s apple was outstanding.

And then Saifah and Zon!!! Jimmy and Tommy saying that the kiss was supposed to be just a peck, but they ‘went with the flow’ is very cool, and it show that they have input over their characters. No wonder, even when this show makes no goddamn sense, I still like it because the actors are owning their characters, bringing real life to them.

In more Zon news, Tommy is doing a phenomenal job of portraying someone with fairly serious anxiety. It’s little details. The looking for reassurance, but also the hugging of the pillow. As anyone with anxiety knows, you develop little habits to help yourself self soothe when you’ve been activated. And generalised anxiety doesn’t need much to start up.

Zon comforting himself, staying in the present via a grounding technique that also looks cute and innocuous is very good direction, it enriches the character.

Some plus and minuses!

+ candyOn said that there was a lesbian couple in this ep, and people speculate it’s Zol and the girl she was with. CandyOn please give me this, there has been such a dearth of queer girls in bl dramas. 

- god almighty i wish we could have skipped the girls “catching’’ zon and saifah and squealing about it. i know, i know, its the price we pay but christ.

+ they had a lot of story to get to, but they still dedicated a sensible amount of time to building the side couples, keeping the audience aware. more blue pls.

- lmao the audio in this episode was wild. they did not have a handle on the music at all, which is a shame, since its the fuckin music episode

+ zon’s hot mum

- zon’s parents being weird about it all in general.  However I really liked that we had a scene where Zon was legit hurt by their previous behaviour about his writing, and then now, so permissive about practising music.

+ the fighter is a sub agenda is alive and well. Tutor telling Fighter to sit on his hands like. Yes. Thank you for this delicious food.

+++ I cannot tell you how fulfilled I felt at Saifah and Zon’s kiss. It was unbearably tender, and all about choice. A stark contrast to teasing and being ratbags. I’m so happy.

This show’s plot is barely there. We live in a whirlpool of uncertainty. The characters are doing 100% of the lifting because there is no coherent vision. And I love it. I’m brought low with why r u feelings.

[onepdumpsterfire]

Disclaimer: These stories are based ‘loosely’ on the game Obey me shall we date. The major stuff will be the same, but here and there the story will be changed or embellished. It is just an AU and I do not own the game the characters, from both One Piece or Obey Me, nor do I own One Piece in general. It would be cool though…

Warning: The characters will mostly be ooc and for the most part will not have the same background as in the anime/manga. The reader’s age will be above consent; the exact number is up to you.

Nola

Devildom!AU

(pt6/?)

Various Characters X Reader

Shanks heard about the fight the brothers had. He’d heard about how you got hurt. At first, he was angry at Sabo for doing what he did. If anything happened to the exchange student this whole thing would be a waste. He punished Sabo for what he did. Beating him bloody. Shanks decided he couldn’t take his eyes off him until he was sure he wouldn’t rage out again. So he proposed a three-day retreat. He could keep an eye on Sabo, and make all three realms get along. He needed to see results in his plan, if this was the only way to do it then it’ll have to do.

As courteous as he was, he made it known that this request was no entreaty. You all would show and be in your best behavior. No protests. No complaints. No objections. And so, that is how you found yourself taking a tour of his palace. Benn, One of Shank’s loyal servants, was explaining the more historic artifacts that decorated the halls. It was interesting to hear the different stories each piece held. One, in particular, held more than the rest. It was a painting of a woman she dressed in clothing from what seemed like the mid-1800s. She wore a high waisted baby-blue gown with a white lacy bonnet and shawl. This seemed to be from the human world. Her out of time style clothing wasn’t the only thing that drew attention to her. She seemed to be moving…

“Sanji!” came her scream. The painting can speak? Sanji looked puzzled. Had he done something to the painting to make them mad? “Oh, I know you! Violet, from when I visited Spain in the human world.” So he had. “You hornswoggler, pigeon-livered, ratbag!” 

“Now, now, sweetheart. No need to get nasty.” Sanji barely seemed to consider her as anything. What wrong had he done to make her say such strange…insults? “What brings you down here? Was the power you gained from me not enough?”

“Power?! From you?! Yeah right! You left me for dead!” Her shrieks shook the frame she was imprisoned in. “the coven betrayed me and trapped me in here! I’ve been passed around and showcased like one of those wagtail wenches! This is all your fault! If only you had st-”

“If only I had what? Stayed and helped? If I recall correctly all you asked for was ‘unimaginable power’ to bring those meaters of the coven to their knees” Sanji approached the painting, “If you didn’t know how to properly use them and was outwitted by those Vazey, Mumbling coves, it was on you.” His tone was dark and airy. Like he was trying to threaten her without letting the others know, but by how the room seemed to resonate around him, it wasn’t that convincing. “You Flapdoodle! I’ll make you pay!” You what…. Flapdoodle, really? You didn’t get much of a chance to wonder what that word implied. She let out bright light, oils swirling inside the painting. They turned into a vortex sucking everything near inside. First, it was Sanji then Nami and Ace. the last ones it took were you and Kid who grabbed on to law for support, but they were both dragged in anyway. 

The lights where you appeared were dim. Beside you was Kid and Law, separated from the rest. “We need to find the others,” was the first thing said in the eerie quietness of the corridor you were in. “What we need to do is find out where we are.” An interjection from the other male. “Not the time to fight, both of you.”

“We’ll look around, figure out where we are and find the others at the same time.” Both men looked at each other, surprised by your sudden leadership. “Yes, ma’am,” Law mocked you but listened to your orders nonetheless. Not like he had much of a choice. After the pact, every order you gave no matter how small, was followed. You didn’t like making them do things, giving them orders, but when the hands were down… You needed them to focus right now. 

The path twisted and turned in many directions. There were dead ends and traps, like a maze. For the leader of this makeshift gang, you had to take the back seat in most dangers that befell you. They were too grand to fight off yourself. If one thing came out of this, you learned the extent of both your companion’s capabilities and an invaluable piece of information. While you held a pact with them their demon forms wouldn’t hurt you. The power that they release, that is.

Their presence felt otherworldly, like Sabo’s. Their combined power would have pulverized you. It was just as great and magnificent as the first time you were able to see it. When Sabo threw you against the tomb’s wall. This time you could hold your own against this gripping force that radiated out of them. Your sight was clear and your head didn’t hurt. Your body didn’t weaken at the proximity. It was probably because of the pact you made with them.

Their forms changed as Sabo’s had. Law grew tusk-like horns that protruded from the back of his head, wrapping around to the front. They were pearl-white and sharp. Under his coat there was a tail, thin with a tuft of black hair at the end. Kid Had also grown one of his own, a golden tail that faded into pitch black. His own set of horns came out from the top of his head, twisting into their sharp endings. His teeth ground into fangs. They looked savaged like they’d maul anything that crosses his path. 

They both ferociously protected you from any trap that was set up in the labyrinth. Tearing into anything that moved and ripping you away from any danger that befell you. Eventually, you did come across the others, having a hammering headache as your guide. The two demons had to go ahead in front of you to tell Ace and Sanji to turn back from their demon forms so you could step closer. Nami, on the other hand, wasn’t affected by it. Her magic gives her protection from their power. “Oh my sweet, Y/n. it’s okay to come closer now.” Sanji called out for you. “R-right,” you turned the corner to meet them.

“Now we need to find an exit.”

“Darling, how I love it when you take charge.” Sanji was a flirtatious fool, no wonder that woman, Violet, was mad at him. However, she should have known better than to cross a whole coven. Pushing you in front, the two brothers you made a pact with ‘protected’ you from their brother. Not wanting you close the lascivious demon.

There was more walking, the labyrinth seemed endless. Yes labyrinth, Ace had filled you all in about it when you caught up. It was below the castle, and nearly inescapable, to those who didn’t know the way. But a powerful mage could figure it out with a spell or two, she just wanted to find the others first. With you guys here there was nothing stopping Nami. She started her spell, but there was this rustling coming from the chambers. It was a persistent sound, like sliding on the floor. Nami stopped her spell to hear it better, “what is that?” All present stopped to listen to the low creeping sound that was… getting closer. 

A wall down the path to your left was moving, you could swear that it didn’t lead to a dead-end before. “Guys, what is that?” You pointed at the scaly impasse that seemed to be moving to block all exit points. “Oh, fuck,” Law whispered under his breath, “That’s my pet Mindsnare Naga, Nola.” Kid punched his arm, “a mindsnare, really Law, really.” They were nasty creatures who seek power above all else. They’re immortal beasts that needn’t worry about time, creating convoluted plans to get to their goal. The highest-ranking person in the location they decide to nest in. They live to control and dominate their victims into submission. They suck them out of life with their venom then fill them with false memories and a built personality to help them reach their goal. If it was deep in the bowels of the castle had it already started it’s schemes? Does the ruler of Devildom know what resides underneath his very feet? You could worry about the troubles of the palace after you manage to escape its clutches.

Law had forbidden you all from harming his ‘poor Nola’. The others protested though he left them no choice, threatening that he’d destroy everything they loved if they were to harm a scale on the serpent. He gave them no choice but to oblige. Crossing the avatar of envy was one of the last things anyone wanted to do. He knew how to ruin any person until they gave up on themselves. He’s sent many into an endless cycle of loathing and suffering. “You’re its master, command it!” Kid yelled at law. “I can’t, she escaped when she was still young. I didn’t have time to train her.” How useless! How were you all supposed to defend yourselves now? You can’t hurt it, much less fight it. “I should have known she’d head to the palace. Her kind charm leaders of lands to do their bidding. Shanks must have found her and trapped her down here. My poor baby.” Not the time to hand out sympathy to something that wants to kill you. “Then what are we gonna do,” Ace piped in, the first time he talked since you’ve all gotten together. “We can’t fight it-”

“Her.”

“Not the time, Law.” If anyone was pissed at the scenario you seemed to be stuck in, it was wrath himself. “Don’t those things grow a second head if you kill it?” Law rolled his eyes at his brother’s ineptitude. “No, that’s a Hydra of Lerna. And they only regrow TWO heads from one that was chopped off, not if you kill it.” Thanks for sharing the knowledge, not helping though. “A mindsnare naga charms its enemies to kill them. Which is what she should be doing now….so we better think of something. Fast.” Law said this like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Why not try to be a little less smug and a little more helpful? “I know what we can do.” It was Nami this time who spoke up. “If I use my pact with Sanji I can boost his own power and mesmerize the snake.”

“Not a snake.”

“No one cares.” Nami turned to Sanji. “Are you ready?” He gave her a seducing smile. “For you? Always.” Nami raised her hand, a ball of glowing light sitting in her palm. Power flowed from her and Sanji seemed to be transmitting her energy. “Praebueris tua poteste quod tibi commodare mea. Nos hanc novam transmittat; coniuncta cum virtute non moveretur a te transiret ponam inimicos.” Her incantations forced an unyielding power to surge out of Sanji. “Don’t worry, Y/n. with my power I’ll protect you, so you won’t pass out.”

Sanji’s demon form is an incubus. Leathery wings bent to make a heart around his head then they straightened into a fine point. Short curved horns came out of each side of his head, and a long thick tail with an arrowhead tip at the end. He radiated an aura that was seen flowing out of him. The boost Nami gave him made his already grand power even more so. Sanji flew through the space between the ceiling and the top of the snake. Following it till he reached the head. Nola had wrapped herself around every way out. She was now coming in through the last passageway with Sanji in tow. He had charmed her on his way over, the serpent didn’t hold any more malice. “Get on! Nola is gonna show us the way out.” Law grabbed you by the waist and jumped on, the others in right behind you. “If she knows the way out then why is she still in here?” Sanji chuckled at Law’s question. “She’s not imprisoned. Shanks found her when she was young and let her stay down here. She gets fed every day and can go out if she pleases.” Law looked sad. His serpent had chosen a different master. As much as he loved her, there wasn’t anything he could do. She was just another of the nine monsters in this realm that guarded the nine circles now. 

After you finally got out of the labyrinth you all had dinner prepared by the demons. Shanks announced that the next day you will be doing a scavenger hunt in the palace. Hence the tour of the place. The lower demons had continued the tour after you vanished, so most of what the ones left standing saw was a mystery to you. The scavenger hunt tomorrow was gonna be hard. All of them knew this and demonstrated it with a groan that passed from one to another. After supper, Shanks separated you into groups. You were with Sanji and Ace. Kid was with Law and Robin. Nami was with Luffy and Usopp. Lastly was Sabo and Shanks.

Kid had protested, yelling that you had a pact with him and should be placed with him, but Sabo told him to zip it and follow orders. You all split up into separate bedrooms for the night. Nami staying back to have a word with you. She lent you some of her power for the rest of the retreat. She said you deserve to have some form of protection for the rest of the trip, not to mention she wanted you to have a good time with the rest. You were a bit confused by her sudden willfulness to share power, something you didn’t even know could be done, but Nami was very front face about everything. She wouldn’t have lied about her intentions. Feeling a tad closer everyone you made your way to your shared room with the rest. Today was a long day, though it was filled with many fun and exciting things.

1800’s slang-

* Hornswoggler- a fraud or a cheat

* Flapdoodle- sexually incompetent man

* Meater/Pigeon-Livered- coward

* Mumbling cove- a shabby person

* Ratbag- a general term of abuse

* Vazey- stupid

* Wagtail- promiscuous woman/ dissolute man

[dmydfilmreviews]

DRUNK RANKING OF FIFTY MARVEL SHITHEADS

 The villains are all rubbish aren’t they? Well whatever, fuck if there’s more than fifty they’re not worth remembering, let’s go now SPOILERS

50. CHRISTOPHER ECCLESTON HAVING NO FUN

49. SOME BIG BULL GUY WHO’S NOT CALLED SCOURGE

48. FUCKING TASERFACE

Oh my God this is the shittest joke and they know it, it just goes on and on and on. Bradley Cooper’s awful in this bit too and he’s usually great

42. NOT THE MANDARIN

Bald

46. BIG BLUE MAN CALLED LAWFI

Was he Loki’s dad or something? Well done for that I guess. Did he die? I don’t know

46. THE DESTROYER

Big Dildo

47. GO FISH HENCHMAN

HOT

37. THE SOVEREIGN

Loads of Guardians 2 is boring and annoying and these guys are boring and annoying

45. KORATH

WHO?

47. SCOURGE

Yeah, yeah you’re supposed to love him or whatever but he’s a big afterthought. What was up with that shot of him slinking away with the people on the bridge all hooded or whatever? He sucks, nobody likes him

46. TWO SHOCKERS

YOU GET A SHOCKER, YOU GET A SHOCKER, YOU GET A SHOCKER one of them is Bokeem Woodbine, who has the coolest name in the world and deserved much better

37. THE VIDEOGAMEY PEOPLE FROM INFINITY WAR

Great movie, video-gamey looking people

45. THE TERRIBLE TINKERER

Seems like a cool guy. The actor is in everything!

45. RONAN

A VERY SHOUTY WASTE TWICE NOW

44. HERR STRUCKER IT’S THE AVENGERS

Very funny lines revolve around him but it’s probably good he got done offscreen we don’t need to give Nazis anymore airtime

34. MICKEY ROURKE

Oh for fucks sake

33. SONNY BIRCH?

Sonny BITCH

31. BENEDICT CUMBERBATCH DICKING AROUND WITH CGI AGAIN

Very underwhelming (like a lot of Doctor Strange) for what should have been a huge amazing satan like threat or whatever. It is fun to hear benedict cumbernaut say his name over and over again though DORRRMOOMOOOO

34. CROSSBONES STYLE

I DON’T FUCK LIKE THAT NO MORE

45. MADS MIKKAELSON

forever horny

47. GHOST

Not really a villain and kind of rubbish effects but a trier or whatever

47. BATROC ZE LEAPER

It is AMAZING that they got this guy in seriously google him

27. JUDE LAW AND THE BLUE BALL BUNCH

Yoghurt? A nice avatar for the myriad failures of the shittest gender

39. ALEXANDER PIERCE

HE’S ROBERT REDFORD!

38. SURTUR

BIG MONSTERRRRRRR! Does exactly what he says on the tin

40. ABOMINATION

Oh my god tim roth tries so, so hard but he just ends up looking like a big claggy poo. Roth’s a real slimy ratbag for the rest of the movie though, good effort, underrated

52. GENERAL ROSS

What a knob, don’t you ever get tired of being wrong? A poohead

41. JUSTIN HAMMER

A lot of fun, they should bring him back. Looks like he sleeps with a lot of sex workers and cries a lot

41. NOT THE MANDARIN TWO

Great, cocky, has absolutely fucking horrible shoes. A dirty man

29. A MAN CALLED ‘DARREN CROSS’ WHO SQUASHES A LAMB

Oh man this guy is so fucking good and terrible! He squashes someone into like a disgusting bubble of flesh and he also looks like he cries a lot and I think he wears a leather jacket at some point. Amazing. Bald

19. SUPREME ANNETTE BENING

What a sassy fucking bitch she looked like she was having a great time in that nirvana concert dream place, rocks a leather jacket way better than ‘darren cross’. Skillful

39. EGG

I don’t know what the fucking hell was going on here but they wasted KURT RUSSELL but still, it’s KURT RUSSELL LOOK AT THAT BEARRD

22. NOT THE MANDARIN 3

This guy is genuinely funny and the only good thing Ben Kinglsey had done in like fifty eight years and it was amazingly funny how it pissed off a load of twats. It’s better than the comics!

10. JEFF BRIDGES

Oh, you know the line. What a line. Bald. Says ‘hold still ya little prick’ to tony at one point and there’s a bit where he wears pyjamas in a really pissed off way. And he rides a Segway. Incredible.

26. ARNIN ZOLA

This is a hell of a performance, both times. Toby Jones is always amazing and he’s amazing here, a perfect comic-booky little nazi turd who’s horrible and can’t stand it when tommy lee jones chews a steak in front of him. He’s so good. And then in winter soldier he’s even fucking creepier! That is hella design work! Love it

14. TALOS SLURPS A SMOOTHIE

Ok he’s not really bad but he seems like a great guy who you’d love to hang out with. He also beats the SHIT out of Samuel l Jackson in that library or whatever and he can become anyone else on this list so he can be like Sam Rockwell with Toby Jones’ dick or whatever, if that’s what you want. Ben Mendellsohn is the GOAT

28 and 29. TWINSIES

Again, not really bad but they’re bad for a while. They’re Avengers, of course they’re cool. Joss Whedon seems to like looking down her dress too much though, seriously it happens all the time, come on

12. NEBULA

NOT BAD AGAIN but while she is bad she’s great, she’s the only actress who realizes how funny it is that she’s SHOUTING ALL THE TIME. And she’s all clicky, it’s disgusting

11. KLAW

Andy Serkis is having a FUCKING BALL in these movies BRING HIM BACK

10. JEFF GOLDBLUM

Hahahahahaha

9. RED SKULL

Just like the comics. Horny boy.

8. WINTER SOLDIER

Scary as fuck

7. THE VULTURE

Everything homecoming does is fucking great and taking a shitty pile of shit like the vulture and making him great is one of the bestthings. Actually relatable, actually a great guy, fuck tony stark, even his design is amazing with that jacket and those little eyes and his huge scary rig. Fucking Michael Keaton man. Give the vulture his own movie. Bad dad.

6. HELA

SISSY THAT WALK

5. ZEMO

WHOOO HE’S NOT A CHARACTER HE’S THE AVENGERS OWN FAILINGS AND LIMITATIONS GIVEN FORRRMMMMM WHOOOOOOO

4. KILLMONGER

Should have had more screentime and suffers from some wonky plot issues but hell, still. The most compelling, real-world grounded villain they have and a complete monster but still, so, so sad and kind of right. This one burns

3. ULTRON

A huge sexy ass, a fascinating mass of deranged AI and tony stark’s failings and fucked up rubbish humankind not being able to sort itself out. Acts like an absolutely terrifying child through the whole thing and a huge prick by the end. But you still feel sorry for him. His final exchange with the vision is one of the most beautiful, poetic things ever written for the whole MCU.

2. LOKI

A hero. But also, what a villain.

1.       THANOS

The terrifying embodiment of failure and inevitability, but also somehow a multi-faceted and intriguing character in his own right. Infinity War is his movie, and he’s a huge piece of shit but you somehow feel sorry for him. A triumph of writing, performance and design, his battle on Titan is one of the most incredible realisations of comic book superpower fighting ever put on screen. Terrifying. There’s no way Endgame is going to fuck him up. Also: Daddy.

1.       GREGG TURKINGTON

Yeah he’s too by the book but he’s actually the universes’ biggest hero IF HE HADN’T HAVE FIRED ANT MAN FROM BASKIN AND ROBBINS THEN NONE OF THAT SHIT WOULD HAVE EVER HAPPENED AND THEY WOULDN’T HAVE BEEN ABLE TO GO TO THE QUANTUM REALM IN ENDGAME LIKE THEY’RE GOING TO AND THANOS WOULD HAVE WON FOREVER A TRUE HERO FIVE BAGS OF POPCORN BRING BACK THE HOBBIT

POPULAR MOVIES THAT SPEND AGES BUILDING UP THEIR HEROES INTO CHARACTERS YOU WANT TO SPEND TIME WITH ARE NATURALLY NOT GOING TO HAVE AS MUCH TIME TO BUILD UP THEIR VILLAINS THE END

[lucindarobinsonvevo]

What would you say are the differences between Funbus era Elle and Bower era Elle? Would you say the personality and/or characterisation is noticeably different?

I actually think about this kind of a lot >.>

I just want to be clear, I think that it is good Elle changed between Funbus and Bower era, because she went through a series of just awful life changing events and in fact it would be worse if she stayed the same.

Anyway.

I think F!Elle was a lot more emotionally open than B!Elle, and a lot more trusting of those around her. B!Elle always sees the worst in people -- Especially those she loves because she loved Robert, and he betrayed her in the worst way he could have so now she thinks that if her own triplet can do that to her, then what's stopping Donna, or Paul, or Lucas or whomever from doing that to her also? (that's my interpretation anyway)

F!Elle also does whatever she can to get out of work, while B!Elle works three jobs seemingly for fun. B!Elle is notably extremely competent compared to F!Elle. She gets solve the mystery of Zeke, which was cool I thought.

So, this is one that annoys me. Elle is presented as someone who doesn't like the outdoors in bower era, which is just canonically incorrect, because she actually loved the outdoors in Funbus, and was a noted horse rider like Cameron. I'm not sure what the purpose of this change was other than to create more random drama for Elle and Lucas. Sigh.

I think Elle also lost her edge for manipulation in the Bower era, sometimes. Like, they made her so emotionally inept that she can't manipulate people anymore, she has to rely on manipulating situations.

But, in the bower era Elle is also a lot more mature then Funbus, which would make sense because she's older and she's learned a lot since she was 19. I think it is good for her, because it allows her to set some boundaries with Paul (elle/paul funbus evil team up you will always be famous) and assist Donna where needed. F!Elle was quite childish for 19, which was on purpose to invoke a more 'Daddy's little Princess' personality. Which she also lost. Not in the sense she is no longer Paul's baby because she will always be that but in that's no longer how she views herself.

Overall, I would say the thing Elle lost most between Funbus and Bower era was her fun. in Funbus, she was such a fun character. She lost that, and became very serious and morose. Not a bad thing, just something that I really miss if I watch too many Bower episodes in a row. Her attempts to be fun in that era are just so pathetic. Elle was a party girl ratbag teen. She's canonically been drinking and sneaking out since she was 14. I hate to agree with Lucas on anything, but she did get kind of boring in 2009.

One scene I thought WAS out of character was her particularly cold reaction to Bridget's death compared to her B2B era response to Bridget being injured. It bothers me how little empathy she had here, because previously, Elle was very empathetic to those who have lost a family member. Carmella, Riley, Janae when Stingray's wall was threatened, that sort of thing. Elle is NOT a very empathetic person generally speaking but this lack of compassion just felt both out of character and so jarring to me. So, yes, I do think Elle was noticably different in the Bower Era. I think plenty of that can be chalked up to her character evolving due to undergoing massive truama and never dealing with it -- But also, i think plenty of it was just bad writing because they didn't have anything else to do with her.

Bower Era Elle is not all bad. I like when she has moments where it's like the old Elle is shining through but at the same time, I think a lot of characters (Libby, Steph, Paul, Susan, Toadie etc) went through a similar dark period at the start of the Bower era. I think Elle being the last bastion of Funbus (all other characters who were grandfathered in, except Paul who is kind of an anomaly on his own here) makes it much more apparent to me, than like in Steph, who had been trapped in her own steady decline since the breakup with Toadie, or Susan who was more or less just buying into her own hype at times

Hope this is what you were looking for!

[scholarlypidgeot]

“They say you die twice. The first is when they bury you in the grave, the second is the last time someone mentions your name” (you choose the wip)

(WIP: All Things Strange. Concepts are mine, character not originally mine but being used with creative license.  Otherwise ideas belong to myself and @lavinia-love-official .)

He remembered his first death well.  After all, he’d been the one to uncork the vial even as pain spread through his chest, his voice already changing.  

“Utterson, for God’s sake, have mercy!” 

But the voice was drowned before it could say more, as the vial spilled down his throat, filling him with warmth not its own.  No, it was his own warmth.  Satisfaction, really.  After all, no one could destroy what he had created but himself.  

But oh, how wrong he was.  Transformation tore his body apart and stitched it back together as Poole and Utterson - two of his three surviving friends - took an ax to the door.  The poison lingered, but the body twitched as the two men examined it.  

He’d never lain so still in his life as those ten minutes, when they searched the apartment.  

But Jekyll was dead.  Hyde was free.  

Freedom came at a cost, though.  Jekyll had been his hideout.  His refuge.  With him gone, he’d fled the country for about a year.  Drowning out whatever scraps of the old ratbag remained.  

But his second death was inevitable.  He’d fought in his fashion, the fashion of a starved animal, a madman with no wits left.  Just to be left in a pool of blood on the street.  

“Rot in hell,” one monster had said to another. 

“I’ll see you there,” he’d managed to rasp back.  

Life, however, was a tricky thing.  Life still lingered in a manner of its own.  The all-too-human ghost of Henry Jekyll lingered in the form of notes - notes he’d never been able to properly destroy.  And the monstrous soul of Edward Hyde lived in their reputation, the legend of things that creep in Whitechapel.  

And so, when a redheaded boy found a thickly-stuffed envelope in an old copy of The Philosophy of the Mind, perhaps he felt a breath of life, of curiosity and monstrous appetite, pass over him, inspire him to sit right there and unlock long-dead secrets.  

So long as the names lingered, after all, the memories could never completely die. 

[malady335]

So after owning of Orcs and Men for close to 5yrs I FINALLY got past the intro bit. I was really blocked on it because the voice acting for a lot of the NPC’s is not good. Especially since they don’t have an option to switch it to the games original language(the studio is French) which I wouldn’t notice the voice acting as much.

The battling system takes a bit to learn and they don’t quite teach you enough before throwing a bunch of guys at you.

Styx is of course perfect(he is not, he makes bad choices all the time) and I love him to death. Arkail is great, he is very legit though has a little anger problem which is fair given what he’s been through. I am very excited to kill the emperor. There are 2 prequel games where it’s just Styx and as I’ve played this one I do find the bits with sneaking the most enjoyable rather than the combat. Arkail and Styx’s relationship is interesting(I just reached the resistance hideout) Arkail clearly is annoyed with Styx but also pities him because Styx doesn’t have a people or community, only himself.

I do plan to get the other games because while I’m terrible at stealth games I do love them and you give me something with goblins and/or orcs in it I am obliged to give it a look. So I’m looking forward to the adventures of Styx. He’s a very specific type of character I love, short, cowardly, trust issues but good at stabbing and smart(Ratbag would fit this category if he wasn’t a himbo). So might do a fic or two with him because I like him and want to see him happy.

[thoughtsofagm]

I was talking to some of my old friends about some of my D&D ocs and they’ve informed me that none of them are straight/heterosexual. 

Na-resh (Both of them, and yes there are two)- Asexual Dragonborn (One pretends to love a priestess of tiamat who power reasons, and the other is a nice little boy who just wants to make every happy and healthy)

Morgana- Bi sexual Tiefling

Ca-bron(Not his birth name)- Asexual Aasimar 

Duckland- Demisexual Human

Nappa- Asexual Sayian 

They had nothing against it, just admitted it was sad that I don’t really give myself a chance to put “myself” into a character. Which one did quoted me as a “Horny ‘but committed’ ratbag”

So my next character will be called “Henry Ratbag, the committed” the heterosexual Halfling.

[crysta-cub]

Crysta-cub’s Lamia Experience: Going Home

AO3

Previous

Next

Music turned low, I begin my drive by filling in the King and possibility snoozing Honey-Bo bitty lamias about their Furry Ferret Siblings. “I have 3 ferrets as of right now. Two boys and one girl, they are my Terrific Trio.” I switch my blinker to change lanes and take a moment to make my turn.

“Discord, I have had since he was only a few months old. I got him because, well, I had another ferret, Mystique. A friend of mine, at the time, also had a ferret, of which Mystique was friends with, and they moved. I had a full time job, so I figured she’d need a buddy. I’m a fan of this show about ponies and it had a Villain, later turned good guy named Discord. He was the god of Chaos. I thought it was a very befitting name for a ferret, so I had hoped to find a Ferret who fit.” I come to a complete stop at a light, taking a quick glance to the Lamias. It was hard to tell if they were paying attention. King seemed interested to see the world move by, while it seemed that the Honey-bo just kept napping, maybe.

“My Discord, he’s actually pretty lazy. He loves to find a spot to curl up and sleep. He also has an obsession with squeaker toys, he comes running from any hiding spot to the squeaker. When he does get hyper he does get a little wild and may play rough, so be careful with that. He doesn’t mean any harm, he just thinks you’re as tough as he is. He’s usually pretty gentle when not completely wound up.  He likes to also run away when playing with me, or chase and tackle a feather toy. Him and Mystique were really pretty close, a bonded pair if you will. Complete opposites that complement each other and they never separated… that is... until she passed away.” My voice softens as I mention Mystique, a faint soft smile crosses my face at her memory as I begin to drive at the green light. This seemed to have caught King’s attention a bit, a small brow bone rises in interest. “The one thing I really wanted for Discord was for him not to be alone, when she passed. Ferrets, when bonded, can mourn their partner so much that they can die from the loss. Some ferrets need the help of other ferrets to help them through their loss. So I decided that to honor Mystique, I would adopt another or two. I kinda wanted to expand my household.” I slow down for another turn to the on ramp of a highway, carefully merging and shifting to a lane I was comfortable with. “I made a note on one of my Ferret groups that I was looking to adopt, and sure enough, one of our rescue ladies had a few ferrets that needed homes. She lives about 6 hours away from here, but lived pretty close to my parents that all I needed to do was make a trip on my next days off. She offered me a choice of three, two whom were already friendly towards each other and other ferrets, and one that wasn’t so nice. The two friendlier ones were the ones I adopted, Papyrus and Xena.” I began to switch lanes to the right to get to the off ramp I need to get home. I honk at a driver, who decided to cut me off and I exclaim “Oi, use your blinker ratbag” I hear a hiss from the king, glancing at him, I see his hood settle down as he seem to try to stare down the driver. I sigh at the driver’s mistake before continuing. “Papyrus and Xena where rescued from two different situations. Papyrus had a few homes before getting to the rescuer… one of the families that nad him probably should never have had ferrets to begin with. The person that relinquished him had only had him for a while before realizing they couldn’t handle it either... Papy was starved and hairless when the rescuer got him. They also shared a story of him getting lost and finding out he was stuck behind a drawer that someone kept using, not knowing he was there.” My hands grip the steering wheel a little tighter. “He also has a scar at the back of his neck, the rescuer believes that perhaps a larger animal like a dog got to him at some point in his life. He’s a very happy ferret. The rescuer says he’s deaf, but there have been many moments were I questioned it. He just notices things that surprise me and he really seems to like most toys that make noise. He is such a sweet boy. He will interact with both Discord and Xena in the way that they need. Discord likes to be rough, Xena prefers a gentler approach. He’ll even take turns cuddling each of them, or even get them to cuddle together. I probably have about 98% peace between Discord and Xena. Papyrus is named after a video game character that is really cool.” I take a moment at a stoplight to take a swig of water, realizing I’m talking a lot, but I don’t mind, and I hope the Lamias don’t either. “So Xena was found at a wildlife refuge and they took awhile to contact the rescuer, for some reason or another. She didn’t have very many problems, except for one thing. Her canines are broken. Luckily the break didn’t hit the root of her teeth, so she didn’t have to have them removed. The rescuer suspects that she was left in a cage long enough for her to cage rage and that may have broken her teeth.” I begin to slow down as I get closer to the house. “She’s the sweetest little thing. She loves to give kisses to us humans and groom her brothers, with a little shake. Makes me wonder if she’ll try grooming you two. She’ll chase my feet to lick at them, and she’s very bouncy when she’s happy. She loves to be rubbed right around her cheeks and ears, can even put her to sleep that way. She isn’t as interested in toys or treats as the boys, she just wants affection. She does play, just not as rough as Discord, mostly cause she can’t. But she loves going through her tubes, rolling around their ball pit and digging in her rice box.” I pull up to a yellow house and parking on the curb. A white picket fence lines the front yard, with a nice archway going over the pathway to the door. There is a tree standing tall in the front with various bushes and flowers covering the small landscape. I unbuckle and gently grab the carrier before exiting the car and booping it locked. “Well, Welcome to home sweet home. Let’s get you two inside and into the warmth. Looks like you guys found a home just in time for the holidays.”