#comedy is just tragedy+ time... as they say... the more you think about it

[mastemamothpriest]

I kind of assumed that her comedy mask was already a metaphor for masking and her tragedy mask is the real her. The difference between the comedy mask and the new mask (I'm gonna call it manager mask) is that one can be broken by things that would make a fragile person sad/upset, while the other one has to hold no matter how many times you break internally.

Y'know how you can hear porcelain cracking/breaking at some points when zoomed in at Gangle? I think it is meant to represent that internally Gangle is cracking emotionally, and if she were wearing her comedy mask, it would've shattered multiple times already. It all culminates in this final scene where she is looking drained and, dare I say, lacking a will to live. Anybody who has worked a monotonous, cumbersome job is probably familiar with this feeling.

I lost my train of thought mid writing this, but what I mean to say is, Gangle is constantly masking her true self. With the comedy mask she is masking her feelings of anxiety, depression and probably more, while the manager mask she is masking herself even deeper. She is not only masking her emotions but masking her personality.

As an autistic person, I can relate to Gangle on this. We don't know much about her past life as a human, but I bet this whole masking thing isn't new to her. She probably has been masking for years before the digital circus. At school, at work, at home, around friends... She was probably familiar with the comedy mask for years and years before she ended up holding it in her new ribbon hands.

Sorry for rambling on your post OP, I just really like Gangle and relate to her with my full heart.

I may be reaching but this episode has gotta be a metaphor for actual masking

especially with how drained gangle looks by the end of it

and how she throws the mask away, finally and actually happy again now that she doesn’t need to keep up appearances

idk how to explain it well but we understand what I mean right

[fiomeras]

Something about children you can't save

[luck-of-the-drawings]

POOR GABRIEL MONTEZ! YOU NEVER SAW THIS COMING DID YOU? ALL YOU WANTED WAS POWER. SECURITY. SAFETY. & THATS EXACTLY WHAT YOU GOT! JUST IN EXCHANGE FOR YOUR BODY. LETS JUST HOPE NO ONE FUCKS THIS UP. LETS JUST HOPE YOU WONT HAVE TO CLEAN UP THE MESS.

[transbee]

smtimes i worry the way i come off when talking ab Media and things like. story structure, themes, motifs, authorial intent etc etc etc comes across as pretentious but also the world needs more pretentious people. to be quite honest.

[bugflies00]

i have so many thoughts about the tommy song/video and theyre a jumbled mess. i wouldnt call this an analysis this is just. most of my thoughts surrounding the video and what it shows about tommy

one of the things that stuck out to me (outside of how depressing and just like. is this guy okay) is something that ive always respected tommy for because he's always stuck with it and its his like. fervent conviction in people doing things theyre passionate about. thats always been one of the things he talks about all the time!!!

when AI started appearing he was talking about death of creativity, with the internet he's always talking about how the real tragedy is the algorithm killing people's passion by driving them with views and money, and even when he talks about youtube itself, and nowadays standup, its so full of passion.

and i think thats really important because it would be extremely easy for someone like tommy, who's in the process of maturing his online image from a very loud, immature and PASSIONATE persona, to make fun of it. it would be so easy to do like so many other creators and laugh at how "cringe" it was and make a quick cash/attention grab with a funny clip of him laughing at himself. but he never has. well don't get me wrong he's laughed at himself or old videos but it's always just. good natured taking the piss out of himself, it's never this like. mocking your younger self who was so excited to do what they did only because now its "cringe".

not only is he constantly giving that advice to other people (its been years of him replying, to any kid in his chat or donations asking advice on how to be a creator etc, "just go and do it if you love it!!"), he's coherent with how he applies it to himself. he realised he was making cash grab tiktok react vids and hated it so much he just stopped uploading for a while.

i dont know i just think there's something admirable about being able to still be sincere in a time where everything especially online has to be processed through a layer of irony. and its even funnier because he's more sincere THROUGH the irony i mean he's literally going into standup.

letting yourself create something that "means" something is fucking hard especially when half the internet still sees you as a kid who screams around. except the thing is that kid DID make stuff that mattered and that meant something because he was, in his own words, having fun.

i think thats what the format of the video was about too. i mean i think it was pretty clearly not a song thats meant to be streamed, its not purely music, its also a video because tommy is also first and foremost an editor who went to film college. its also not a "comedy" song like he's made some before, because those were all intentionally created to land as many jokes and make a big buzz— which doesnt mean they were bad! im philza is a contemporary lyrical masterpiece. but they had a specific purpose and it was to make people laugh and i think this video was completely like. opposite of what peoples expectations are of tommy. the "wow hes not a child anymore hes being mature🤓" reactions are the most obvious aspect of this (which, like, its been a while, get with the program).

i think the point of this was to make something that genuinely meant something but that was also like. as unpalatable to the algorithm and to the TommyInnit Viewer as possible. even now that he's gone into making quieter, more reflective videos, we've never had the flashing texts and the projector images and just all of that. hes always talking about how he hates the way the "youtube formula" has dictated the course of content and stolen all creativity for youtubers. its not meant to be a YouTube Video tm. its just meant to mean something to someone, and obviously process some sort of personal emotions, and i just think thats. yeah. yeah

i mean he even says so outright. "this needless, self indulgent spiral of self gratification" is pretty damn explicit. its not meant to be funny content its really a cry for help or for just. anything at all really

it was also a lot about perception, yknow the "entertainer" dilemma, "its all attention porn"... theres a layer of this point thats universal, everyone struggles with how they're perceived and i think any "artist" or "entertainer" figure can see themselves in it, but there's also a layer thats completely impermeable to most of us because it touches upon the sheer absurdity of a "youtuber". especially one of tommy's popularity. especially one who blew up so so fast so young. i honestly think its IMPOSSIBLE to process that. its about the ethics of having millions of people's time so readily available to you if you just press the right buttons to make the algorithm happy and then you've got them. im like 75% sure i remember him saying this on stream once, something like "your time is valuable" and if a fan didnt value him as an entertainer they should drop him.

and even here^ thats the saddest "lmao" ive seen in my life SORRY LOL but its really just. yeah im not gonna repeat myself it speaks for itself. perception and internet expectations and all that

one of the other images that stuck out to me was also this:

"yeah i know its too much like bo burnham but it wont be in a year though. in a year it will be like tom simons. just let me figure out what that means, ok?"

a lot of the video is about. influences and inspirations. the bo burnham references are so obvious he's poking at them, but i think he's raising a good point about the creativity that he's constantly praising. its never something that springs up on its own, its all about looking at others work and making it your own and feeding yourself with all those experiences and slowly, surely building your own way of doing things (tommyinnit "minecraft talent show" and "a tribute to dream smp" serial quackity + schlatt impersonator would know all about that) ->

and its daunting! its fucking scary to move away from that! which is also the main vibe i got from the video which, outside of his own issues with how he's perceived online, was the sort of existential dread that comes with actually creating. its one thing to preach you need to be passionate and create, its another to sit down and create something thats BY you. its a part of growing up! and we're literally seeing him do it live (well the bits that he chooses to show obviously)! thats also part of why i think tommy's so relatable to so many people is that he's so like. honest and real about what it's like to grow up, simple as that, and growing into yourself.

"this was everything to me" and using the picture of his younger self... man. theres obviously so much sadness underlying the whole thing but i think the nostalgia and melancholy in mourning being someone who was only inspired/excited by your interests and role models is universal. and obviously for tommy a lot of those influences turned out. well i think it was pretty damn clear who/what he was referring to here. ->

i don't think i need to go too in detail about that, especially cause a lot of the video was clearly a way to process his own personal emotions. especially with those next few images. i just hope he's okay and that god doubles his pain and gives it to mr beast to quote my friend bronzetomatoes. man.

of course he had to end with a funny clip about a hot anime girl and i think that kinda. sums it all up in a way. if that makes sense. at the end of the day its about the fact that he has to use humour to make the thing work when its out in the open, even when he tries not to and to be actually honest, but theres also the fact that hes literally a comedian and creating something "honest" IS through humor. its kindof a double edged sword

right well that was my jumbled mess of psychoanalysing tommyinnit i hope he is alright and all that because well that was. something

[canon-in-too-deep]

50 Free Typesets

New achievement unlocked! I now have 50 public domain books/typesets available for FREE in my library! 🥳 Above is a collage of all 50 title pages.

What does this mean? It means that these classic books have been typeset (typographic, book design, layout work done), and are ready as pdfs that can be used to read, print out, book bind, or burn at your pleasure! (Just keep it to personal use only!)

The full list (with page sizes now noted) of all 50 books available can be found here on my tumblrary directory/masterlist (which will update as I add more), and below the break of this post!

Please please feel free to request access to my library (aka, yee good ol' googly drive). I usually respond within 24 hours, and they are indeed free! Just leave credit if you use, and consider liking/reblogging!

Also, if you find any errors in the files, let me know! I made these in Affinity, not with an AI program, and typos are natural spawns XD

From Frankenstein to Pride and Prejudice, to Sherlock Holmes to a dude that wakes up as a bug, I've been honored to be able to typeset these books and share them with all of you.

A part of me wants to ramble on about the behind the scenes and my continuing personal journey of amateur typesetting...but I think the most important thing I can say is simply thank you! to everyone that's stopped by! So thank you all! (And should I try for 100? 🤔 Hmmm...)

Warning! Wall of text below the break!

All 50 typesets available (some have alternate versions in library):

Persuasion by Jane Austen (Letter Folio)

The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde by Robert Louis Stevenson (Letter Quarto)

Frankenstein by Mary Shelley (Letter Folio)

The Merry Adventures of Robinhood by Howard Pyle (Illustrated) (Letter Folio)

Peter Pan by J. M. Barrie (Letter Folio)

Dracula by Bram Stoker (Letter Folio)

The Call of Cthulhu by H. P. Lovecraft (Letter Quarto)

The Importance of Being Earnest by Oscar Wilde (Letter Folio)

The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes by Arthur Conan Doyle (Illustrated) (Letter Folio)

The Invisible Man by H. G. Wells (Letter Folio)

The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald (Letter Folio)

The Tragedy of Romeo and Juliet by William Shakespeare (Letter Folio)

The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde (Letter Folio)

The Divine Comedy by Dante Alighieri (Illustrated) (Letter Folio)

Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen (Illustrated) (Letter Folio)

The Odyssey by Homer (Letter Folio)

Tales of Space and Time by H. G. Wells (Letter Folio)

The House of Mirth by Edith Wharton (Letter Folio)

A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens (Illustrated) (Letter Folio)

The Book of Dragons by E. Nesbit (Illustrated) (Letter Folio)

Much Ado About Nothing by William Shakespeare (Letter Folio)

Twenty Thousand Leagues under the Sea by Jules Verne (Illustrated) (Letter Folio)

Crime and Punishment by Fyodor Dostoevsky (Letter Folio)

Around the World in Eighty Days by Jules Verne (Letter Folio)

Alice's Adventures in Wonderland by Lewis Carroll (Illustrated) (Letter Folio)

Leave it to Psmith by P. G. Wodehouse (Letter Folio)

Lord Peter views the body by Dorothy L. Sayers (Letter Folio)

The Room in the Tower by E. F. Benson (Letter Folio)

Right Ho, Jeeves by P. G. Wodehouse (Letter Folio)

The Time Machine by H. G. Wells (Letter Folio)

Metamorphosis by Franz Kafka (Letter Quarto)

Poirot Investigates by Agatha Christie (Letter Folio)

Grimms' Fairy Tales by Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm (Letter Folio)

The Phantom of the Opera by Gaston Leroux (Letter Folio)

Andersen's Fairy Tales by Hans Christian Andersen (Letter Folio)

The Legend of Sleepy Hollow by Washington Irving (Letter Quarto)

Shakespeare's Sonnets by William Shakespeare (Letter Folio)

The Raven by Edgar Allan Poe (Illustrated) (Letter Octavo)

Anne of Green Gables by L. M. Montgomery (Letter Folio)

A Journey to the Centre of the Earth by Jules Verne (Letter Folio)

Sense and Sensibility by Jane Austen (Letter Folio)

Notre-Dame de Paris by Victor Hugo (Letter Folio)

Wuthering Heights by Emily Brontë (Letter Folio)

The Wonderful Wizard of Oz by L. Frank Baum (Letter Folio)

The Blue Fairy Book (Font Sampler Edition) edited by Andrew Lang (Letter Folio)

A Princess of Mars by Edgar Rice Burroughs (Letter Folio)

Ivanhoe by Sir Walter Scott (Illustrated) (Letter Folio)

The Mysterious Affair at Styles by Agatha Christie (Letter Folio)

Emma by Jane Austen (Letter Folio)

Paradise Lost by John Milton (Letter Folio)

[eelhound]

"I think Homer outwits most writers who have written on the War [fantasy archetype], by not taking sides.

The Trojan war is not and you cannot make it be the War of Good vs. Evil. It’s just a war, a wasteful, useless, needless, stupid, protracted, cruel mess full of individual acts of courage, cowardice, nobility, betrayal, limb-hacking-off, and disembowelment. Homer was a Greek and might have been partial to the Greek side, but he had a sense of justice or balance that seems characteristically Greek — maybe his people learned a good deal of it from him? His impartiality is far from dispassionate; the story is a torrent of passionate actions, generous, despicable, magnificent, trivial. But it is unprejudiced. It isn’t Satan vs. Angels. It isn’t Holy Warriors vs. Infidels. It isn’t hobbits vs. orcs. It’s just people vs. people.

Of course you can take sides, and almost everybody does. I try not to, but it’s no use; I just like the Trojans better than the Greeks. But Homer truly doesn’t take sides, and so he permits the story to be tragic. By tragedy, mind and soul are grieved, enlarged, and exalted.

Whether war itself can rise to tragedy, can enlarge and exalt the soul, I leave to those who have been more immediately part of a war than I have. I think some believe that it can, and might say that the opportunity for heroism and tragedy justifies war. I don’t know; all I know is what a poem about a war can do. In any case, war is something human beings do and show no signs of stopping doing, and so it may be less important to condemn it or to justify it than to be able to perceive it as tragic.

But once you take sides, you have lost that ability.

Is it our dominant religion that makes us want war to be between the good guys and the bad guys?

In the War of Good vs. Evil there can be divine or supernal justice but not human tragedy. It is by definition, technically, comic (as in The Divine Comedy): the good guys win. It has a happy ending. If the bad guys beat the good guys, unhappy ending, that’s mere reversal, flip side of the same coin. The author is not impartial. Dystopia is not tragedy.

Milton, a Christian, had to take sides, and couldn’t avoid comedy. He could approach tragedy only by making Evil, in the person of Lucifer, grand, heroic, and even sympathetic — which is faking it. He faked it very well.

Maybe it’s not only Christian habits of thought but the difficulty we all have in growing up that makes us insist justice must favor the good.

After all, 'Let the best man win' doesn’t mean the good man will win. It means, 'This will be a fair fight, no prejudice, no interference — so the best fighter will win it.' If the treacherous bully fairly defeats the nice guy, the treacherous bully is declared champion. This is justice. But it’s the kind of justice that children can’t bear. They rage against it. It’s not fair!

But if children never learn to bear it, they can’t go on to learn that a victory or a defeat in battle, or in any competition other than a purely moral one (whatever that might be), has nothing to do with who is morally better.

Might does not make right — right?

Therefore right does not make might. Right?

But we want it to. 'My strength is as the strength of ten because my heart is pure.'

If we insist that in the real world the ultimate victor must be the good guy, we’ve sacrificed right to might. (That’s what History does after most wars, when it applauds the victors for their superior virtue as well as their superior firepower.) If we falsify the terms of the competition, handicapping it, so that the good guys may lose the battle but always win the war, we’ve left the real world, we’re in fantasy land — wishful thinking country.

Homer didn’t do wishful thinking.

Homer’s Achilles is a disobedient officer, a sulky, self-pitying teenager who gets his nose out of joint and won’t fight for his own side. A sign that Achilles might grow up someday, if given time, is his love for his friend Patroclus. But his big snit is over a girl he was given to rape but has to give back to his superior officer, which to me rather dims the love story. To me Achilles is not a good guy. But he is a good warrior, a great fighter — even better than the Trojan prime warrior, Hector. Hector is a good guy on any terms — kind husband, kind father, responsible on all counts — a mensch. But right does not make might. Achilles kills him.

The famous Helen plays a quite small part in The Iliad. Because I know that she’ll come through the whole war with not a hair in her blond blow-dry out of place, I see her as opportunistic, immoral, emotionally about as deep as a cookie sheet. But if I believed that the good guys win, that the reward goes to the virtuous, I’d have to see her as an innocent beauty wronged by Fate and saved by the Greeks.

And people do see her that way. Homer lets us each make our own Helen; and so she is immortal.

I don’t know if such nobility of mind (in the sense of the impartial 'noble' gases) is possible to a modern writer of fantasy. Since we have worked so hard to separate History from Fiction, our fantasies are dire warnings, or mere nightmares, or else they are wish fulfillments."

- Ursula K. Le Guin, from No Time to Spare, 2013.

[rootspiral]

AGATHA ALL ALONG DEEP DIVE: episode 1 part 1

(Wandavision entries: [1][2][3])

(AAA entries: ep1 [1][2][3][4] ep2 [1][2][3][4] ep3 [1][2][3] ep4 [1][2][3][4][5][6][7][+1] ep5 [1][2][3][4][5] ep6 [1][2][3] ep7 [1][2][3][4][5][6] ep8 [1][2][3][4][5])

IT'S TIME TO REWATCH AGATHA ALL ALONG, WITCHES! And as usual, spoilers below.

episode 1, Seekest Thou The Road

Wanda is dead (no she ain't). As a result, her spell is weakened and Agatha has changed from her nosy neighbor character to detective Agnes (or caught the true crime bug, as Herb will put it.)

Stinky grimy Agnes, so serious and depressed. As soon as she appears onscreen she's humming the Ballad.

Detective Agnes has just been recalled to action after being off duty for a while. She was punished for "punching a suspect", which is code for going after Wanda. Agnes points out that now the suspect is a convicted felon, i.e. that she was right after all and Wanda is dangerous and evil. "I can't be right and wrong" she says. "Yes, you can" says Herb, because both Agatha and Wanda are villain and victim. And lol at the police tape symbolizing Herb's fence. You know the poor guy is in his garden looking down at Agnes in her Bonher family tshirt, wondering what the hell is going on.

oh that's a seriously good shot

Agatha looks heartbroken when she sees Wanda's body, doesn't she? She looks so sorry.

Herb (the real Herb behind the illusion) confirms that Agatha is acting different than usual.

THIRD TIME SHE DISCREETLY DRIES HER TEARS

There is nothing funny about Detective Agnes. Or rather, it's funny to watch her because she's so intense, but we laugh at her, she's not being a clown on purpose like Agatha usually is. And Agatha right now is in a lot of pain, even more than usual having completely lost her agency. This character so unkempt, so sad, so doggedly searching for answers, is more true to Agatha's real self than what she usually lets people see. Deep down she's just a tragic lesbian wet rat.

Somebody called in to have the body found, and I think that somebody was Rio. Why would the body be next to the water otherwise? It's like the River of Life laid her gently where Agatha could find her. In other words, Wanda's death brought her to Agatha. I'm curious about these woods too, we know they don't actually exist as this is all in Agatha's head, but where did the idea come from? Are these the woods where she killed the Salemites? Where she gave birth to Nicky? Or where she buried him?

Agatha's victims from the finale flashing throughout the opening. Wherever it may bend, I'll see you at the end.

"based on the danish series WANDAVISDYEN" never fails to destroy me. and it's so clever too, it's like they're telling first time watchers that yes, this seems like a grim detective show, but you clever audiences know that things are not as they seem and this is a parody, right?? this is not serious at all, it's funny! Laugh! Except. It's not funny. It's not funny at all. And you're going to realize only when it's too late. It's the same thing they do with Sharon/Mrs. Hart, they lure you in with laughs only to hit you with heartbreak. This show is not a comedy at all. It's at its very core a senseless tragedy.

Sarah/Dottie lives next door too, was Agatha talking to her through a window, or does the library desk symbolize another fence? This poor woman, hasn't she suffered enough? But they all more or less try to help Agnes, that's sweet. Has anyone from SWORD or whomever dropped in to talk to them, did the Avengers just decide to leave Agatha there? Did Monica (or Ralph) even explain to the poor people of Westview that she's a witch, or do they just think she's a random neighbor who couldn't be saved from Wanda's Hex?

THE MAILMAN CONTINUES BEING SUSPICIOUS. Is Agatha putting words in his mouth, or was he (the "messanger") sent by someone to warn her about the Darkhold being destroyed???

her FACE when she sees Rio

and the way Rio just stares and stares. When you rewatch this scene knowing that this is the first time she gets to see Agatha in centuries... and she has to be cool and she has to be gentle. I think it's deliberate that they put Phil/Harold/Ross Geller in here, because he's one of the funniest people in Westview and it's suggesting a first time viewer to read this scene as a comedy. Except it's a cosmic tale of tragedy and heartbreak, but you're not supposed to notice yet, even if it's right there under your nose.

Stop being such a lone wolf, Agnes. Or rather, stop being such a sad and lonely covenless witch, Agatha.

Rio laughs her delighted little laugh, licks her lips, looks out the window for a moment as if overwhelmed, then goes back looking at Agatha and basically devouring her with her eyes. ("te veo.") (thank you for my life aubrey plaza.) Agatha stares daggers back, but her body language stars getting defensive. She feels very vulnerable.

Yep, defensive. And wistful.

She is doing her job, like always. But she's also going above and beyond. There is technically no need for her to wake Agatha up, but here she is, dropping gentle clues, guiding her with such patience and care.

"If you wanna be in control you can be" is said in such a kind tone, but it's also sexy?? I think Rio really likes for Agatha to take control, in a lot of ways. Her body language is the opposite of what Agatha is doing too.

Oh noes she's making herself so small now. She's like, intrigued and angry and happy and scared to see Rio. They're both being so tentative!! And she doesn't actually know who Rio is because she's under the damn spell, so her body language and feelings are pure instinct. They come from somewhere very very true and deep. (and LOL that mug says "get a clue")

Is this who you are now, Agatha? the intense but lonely detective? she's genuinely interested, because Rio investigates Agatha just as Agatha investigates everybody else. Rio simply cannot get enough of her. and she keeps talking with this gentle, warm, understated tone.

Gains personal space. Keeps staring and staring.

oh now we're leaning. they do this every scene they are together, they keep getting closer and closer even if they don't mean to, like magnets.

Agatha literally bolts to the door and tells her to leave. Rio's presence is so overwhelming in so many different and complicated ways, and she doesn't even understand why that is at the moment. Kathryn Hahn is playing this perfectly straight (no pun intended), there is genuine pain in her voice.

"Te veo", which is not "see you," but I see you, I'm always looking for you, I'm always watching. And I finally see you, after all this time.

Oh, honey.

I'm running out of space again, but I promise I'll continue this tomorrow. Thank you for all the notes you guys, I was not expecting so many! I'm doing this mostly to amuse myself, but it's nice to know that the brainrot is collective 🙃🙃🙃

go to the next entry

[koimethehorizon]

Amazing Digital Circus Theory: Gangle is an NPC

Sooo, I wasn’t expecting to talk about this show. I was perfectly content to just enjoy Digital Circus as is.

It’s a show that invites theories as to what exactly’s going on with the setting and characters, but I didn’t have much room to think too hard about it. Who’s Abel? Is Pomni really a human? Why is this VR game emulating an N64 game at the start? I like the show plenty, but it just wasn’t as interesting to go hard on any of those questions at the time.

But with this recent episode… a single, perhaps throwaway line got the brain nagging. And it’s kind of a bizarre one to waste hours analyzing.

Okay, so yeah, it’s a joke on submissive and breedable. (Don’t give them ideas) But try taking it at face value.

What does he mean by this? Sure, Jax is an asshole, and being a bullied kid is Gangle’s whole archetype… but what if it means a little more than that?

Gangle’s trapped for all eternity this asshole and she’s just letting him boss her around. Zooble can choose not to participate, so no one has to. Why does Gangle listen to Jax at all?

Let's entertain a thought: Is Gangle an NPC?

With Episode 2 bringing so much attention to the autonomy of NPCs, it seemed natural to start pointing fingers at characters being this or that. But this isn't just a random crackshot, I feel that there is a story to tell here.

Look back at Pomni’s “orientation” with the other humans. Ragatha, Zooble, and Jax ease her by saying that they’ve been trapped in this world for years and then bring attention to Kinger being the oldest.

But Gangle… she’s isolated from the peanut gallery, busy moping about the broken comedy mask instead.

Every character has been given some hints as to how they’ve been coping with the situation. Jax no longer empathizes with anything, Ragatha once had trouble adjusting but now tries to stay happy, Zooble picks and chooses her involvement, Kinger is the eldest and just exists for the hell of it, and Pomni is new to everything.

With Gangle, it’s a blank. No opinion, no hints of her human side, how long she’s been here, no thoughts on the games, nothing. She’s just Jax’s punching bag.

Even Kinger gets a potshot on Gangle in a rock-paper-scissors game…. and he likely forgot that she doesn’t have hands!

And that brings me to another detail. Doesn't Gangle look different from the others?

Unlike everyone else, Gangle's just a mask and a ribbon. No hands or legs, or just any limbs in general. She stands out as looking a bit simpler than the others.

Gangle's most interesting design trait is that she's based on comedy and tragedy masks. The ones used old Greek theater to dictate the emotions of their characters.

The first episode seems to imply that with a broken comedy mask, Gangle literally can’t stay happy. Hence why we see her sad most of the time. That's a strange limitation if Gangle's human mind is supposed to be completely intact, especially with how expressive the other characters can be.

It's not delved into too much but does Gangle actually rely on these masks to "feel" emotions?

The obvious hole is that Caine would’ve just killed her a while ago if she was an NPC, but he's not exactly omniscient.

He even admits that he has to kill them off because it’s possible for him to lose track.

Now normally I could just stop here, but I’m all about the grand statements. You know, the retroactive readings of an episode once you get a theory going. Why does Gangle being an NPC matter at all? How does Ep 2 change?

While deep diving, I realized that the thematic core of Episode 2 is Pomni and Jax’s approaches to surviving the Digital Circus.

In Pomni’s A plot, we see her connecting with Gummigoo, the NPC that Caine pitted their group against. After discovering him lamenting his new reality, she finds a strange comfort in being existentially lost together. Because in the end the NPCs and the humans are just as displaced and frightened in this meaningless world.

In Jax’s B plot, he forces Gangle to follow some insane orders. Sabotage the game to let the big chocolate turd monster destroy the Candy Kingdom. To Jax, he is the main character. Helping or displeasing this giant population of fake people doesn’t have any consequence for him, so why humor anyone but yourself?

A bit of a stretch, but what if Jax already knows Gangle is an NPC and is keeping it quiet as long as Gangle follows orders, hence the “submissive” comment? He’d be a way more unpleasant character with this reading, but it doesn’t seem off the cards with how he treats everyone anyway.

This dichotomy already plays out well within the episode, but when reframing it as Pomni and Gummigoo vs Jax and Gangle, the parallel is a lot more interesting.

Make an NPC an equal, they die. But keep an NPC under wraps as long as they continue to obey you… they live.

The episode ends with a grim conundrum that NPCs can’t be together with the humans, not because of their differences but because they're just... not allowed to be. But what if one already in the group, proving that they’re just as capable as the humans to play the games and grieve loved ones together?

PS. Despite knowing everyone else's name, I actually forgot Gangle's until I started finding evidence for this intrusive thought. Sorry Gangle.

PSS. I couldn't fit this anywhere, but Gangle's door frame doesn't work as evidence against the NPC theory, because even the mannequins have their own rooms in that hallway.

[kudossi]

Tigerclaw and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Senior Warrior Position AU

In a world where deputies can only be named after their first apprentice has been granted their warrior name, Tigerclaw struggles to keep an apprentice alive long enough to earn their name.

or, a comedy-tragedy AU in which having an apprentice isn't enough — you have to see them to their warrior name, and Tigerclaw cannot fucking get any of his goddamn apprentices to live, damn it.

—

It starts out mostly normally, except for the fact that Tigerclaw hasn't gotten any apprentices to their warrior name, and he needs that so he can accomplish his (very noble, of course) kitty genocide goals. And also be the supreme leader of the world or something. Darkpaw died stupidly, he hasn't had a chance since, and now he's got some tiny thing that's afraid of his own shadow.

Well. It'll have to do.

So naturally this man is so protective over Ravenpaw that Ravenpaw barely even leaves his sight. Firepaw and Graypaw think that this is adorable. Look how much Tigerclaw cares about his apprentice!!

Ravenpaw, of course, is fucking terrified and also slowly losing his mind, just in a different way.

—

"Redtail assigned us to go on a patrol to Snakerocks." "OH NO HE DID NOT. WE'RE STAYING IN THE SANDY HOLLOW WHERE IT'S SAFE."

"Nothing matters more to me than making you a warrior, Ravenpaw. Nothing." And the terrible thing is that Ravenpaw is sure he's being sincere.

—

Ravenpaw disappears and Tigerclaw nearly fucking has a conniption because the timing was all RIGHT and he was going to finally get the position AND HE NEVER GOT HIS DAMN NAME FUCK.

"Do you think I could convince the elders that Fireheart was my apprentice?" "Fireheart was Bluestar's apprentice, as approved by StarClan. You're going to have to wait for the next litter to be apprenticed."

So he begs and begs and gets Cinderpaw and then she accidentally falls into the trap he'd set for a better deputy candidate at the Thunderpath. Fuck.

—

Well. Time to resort to drastic measures.

"I was thinking that Darkstripe would have been a good name. Because he had dark stripes." "Again, Tigerclaw, it's admirable that you loved your apprentice so much, but I cannot grant him a name." "Are you sure?" "Honestly, Tigerclaw, I'm not sure he ever would have gotten a name. Missing quite a few feathers from his nest, that one..." Fuck. The worst part was that she wasn't even wrong.

— Swiftpaw and Brightpaw get mauled by the dogs he set up to happen like right after he got the title and they sprang it before and he's like FUCK NOW WHAT DO I DO WITH THESE DAMN DOGS? His world domination plans literally never come to fruition because he cannot keep his apprentices alive/in the clan/his own.

— "Brightheart counts. She HAS to count." "Actually, Cloudtail took over her training…" [demented noises]

—

Turns out that Ravenpaw is alive and no one — no one — in the Harper Collins Extended Universe is happier than Tigerclaw.

"You're alive! …You deserve your warrior name!" "Actually, I've come to peace with my name and my way of life. I have no need for a—" "GET YOUR FUCKING NAME RIGHT NOW RAVENPAW OR SO HELP ME STARCLAN—" "I know you really wanted Ravenpaw to become a warrior," Barley says gently, "but he's made his decision. It's very kind of you to acknowledge that he deserves it, though. You must have been so close as mentor and apprentice." Tigerclaw's eye twitches. "Yes. Close. Very... close." —

He finally, finally retires as an elder after his plans go absolutely nowhere for years on end. And maybe StarClan is still like "Brambleclaw would be chill actually, we can forget that pesky little law" and Tigerclaw is sitting there like "excuse me what the actual fuck?" —

But at this point Tigerclaw is about as dangerous as Ashfur without a freak forest fire. Which is to say about as dangerous as using a leaf as a weapon. Which is, incidentally, how Darkpaw managed to get himself killed in the first place.

—

"Is this the Dark Forest? This has to be the Dark Forest. It doesn't look like Thistleclaw described it, but it must be. This Clan is all an elaborate punishment meted down by StarClan for my sins." "Tigerclaw, sir, I'm just here to help you with your ticks. See? I have the mousebile right here." "…Yes, thank you, Alderpaw." — Graystripe joins him in the elder's den and he's like, "You know, Ravenpaw thought you were up to some… scheme, back in the day. Crazy, right? You've been a model Clanmate as long as I've been alive." [muffled screaming] "Huh, what do you think that is? It sounds almost like someone killed a rabbit, but they know not to come this close to camp…"

[actual-changeling]

Welcome back to Alex's unhinged meta corner, and today I have something surprisingly not kiss-related—though it is still about the final fifteen because hey, gotta keep the brand image.

I read this post by @goodoldfashionednightingale and began typing a small response. Then I made the mistake of drinking half a litre of coffee on an empty stomach right after taking my adhd meds and my brain began vibrating at the speed of light.

But oh, have I discovered parallels. This, my friends, is about the nightingale, where it comes from, what it means, and what the fuck happened in part 3 of 1941.

Ready? Let's go.

Now, as OP said in her post, s1e3 is important. In the script book, Neil himself says that these flashbacks are where the producers would tell him to cut scenes to save money. They suggested every single one—except for the one he ended up taking out, which was the bookshop opening scene set in 1800. The others are building blocks, you need them to see how their relationship progressed and what kind of important milestones they had.

(side note: author is very miffed that english does not have a separate subjunctive form like german which makes quoting lines way more confusing than it has to be)

The one I want to mention is neither 1941 nor 1967. No, what I want to talk about is 1601. This might be about to get a bit rambly but I will do my best to keep it tidy.

The focus of that flashback is on the Arrangement, yes, but it gives us a lot more information than that.

they both see Shakespeare's plays regularly, maybe even meet in the crowd

Crowley prefers the comedies

Aziraphale does not seem to have a preference, he enjoys the tragedies and presumably the comedies too

there is an oyster woman selling food -> reference to their meeting in Rome when Aziraphale tempted him to try some oysters

Aziraphale reflexively denies their relationship

Crowley might say he is not worried but circles Aziraphale the entire time, keeping watch

they both ask favours of each other and both agree to do them

What stands out to me in relation to what I am about to expand on is the line that Crowley delivers after Aziraphale's little 'buck up'—which Crowley finds adorable btw but that's a post for another time.

"Age does not wither nor custom stale his infinite variety."

Why would he say that? What exactly is prompting this? WHY say that specific line?

At first I thought it might be to tempt Shakespeare because he does commit art theft by just copying that line down, BUT I think there is more to that. So much more, in fact. I am wiggling now because I am very excited about this and my adhd meds are kicking in anyway.

First things first: the line itself.

It appears in Shakespeare's play Antony and Cleopatra, a romantic tragedy, which was first performed in 1607 aka six years after this meeting. Enobarbus is talking about Cleopatra and describing why Antony won't leave her. Her.

Ccrowley uses his—again, who is he even talking about? Hamlet? Shakespeare? Random poetic quote?

No, I think this line is about Aziraphale and it's a code. Right after, the next line from Aziraphale is "What do you want?", meaning that this is their code phrase for 'I have a favour to ask of you'.

Age does not wither nor custom stale his infinite variety

Age will not affect his appearance nor will he ever become boring to Antony. Crowley, who later chooses the name Anthony for himself, tells Aziraphale, an immortal, that he will never age and that he will never grow bored of him.

It's flattery, pure and simple, and it's code at the same time. This establishes the important fact that they might use more of Shakespeare's work as code/already have a system in place (even though he steals Crowley's line for later).

They play their little morality game of back and forth, Aziraphale agrees, Crowley probably manipulates the coin toss, and THEN we find out that the oyster woman is called Juliet.

Why? What is the meaning of that? Why give her a name and that name in particular? Why bring the sexy oysters back into it?

Romeo and Juliet premiered in 1597, so it is safe to assume they have both seen it by 1601, but this is mostly for the audience, not for us-or is it?

Aziraphale gives Crowley puppy eyes until he agrees to make Hamlet popular, and while I don't think Juliet itself is a code word, although it's very interesting that the OYSTER woman is the one with that name (especially adding what we now know about Job), Romeo and Juliet might be.

Yes, the Nightingale song came out in 1940 but the bird has been around for much, much longer, and, as many probably know by now, also shows up in Romeo and Juliet.

This is where I am starting to vibrate at the speed of light because listen to me. Listen.

Crowley is Juliet. Anthony J. Crowley. Antony Juliet Crowley.

(side note: I'm not saying that Crowley chose it based on that—though I am not not saying that—but that it is a clue for us at the audience.)

Why do I think that? In the play, Romeo spends the night with Juliet and then goes to leave as the night begins to end. Juliet tries to stop him and tells him that the birds they are hearing aren't larks, which sing at dawn, but nightingales, which sing at night.

Who is the one always pushing for more? Crowley. He is the one trying to convince Aziraphale it's safe, they're safe to spend time together.

Romeo disagrees with Juliet and says 'I must be gone and live, or stay and die'.

Leave and stay alive, or stay and hell/heaven will punish us. It gets even better though.

We all know how Romeo and Juliet ends: Romeo thinks Juliet is dead, kills himself, Juliet finds him and then kills herself too.

Hey, do you know how Antony and Cleopatra ends?

Antony thinks Cleopatra is dead, kills himself and dies in her arms, then Cleopatra also kills herself—by snake poison; Romeo also died by poison.

The parallels are THERE. They are jumping down our throats! Two tragedies, two sides, several familiar names and phrases, same fear, same ending.

I think by now you can guess how this ties back to 1941.

We do not see how that night ends, but we know it ends. One of them wants to stretch it out, maybe even quotes Romeo and Juliet because look at the setting!

Candlelight, wonderful night they spend together, the threat of Crowley's early demise, and, to quote the play once more, this time Romeo: I have more care to stay than will to go.

Crowley thought it was his last night on earth and went with Aziraphale to his bookshop, to be with him, because he cares more about that than the fact that he will be dragged to hell come morning. Do you remember?

"Expect a legion to come for you first thing tomorrow" THAT is the threat. They have until dawn, just like Romeo and Juliet, which is why she is so desperate for the birds to be nightingales. Fortunately for them, Aziraphale saves the day, BUT there is NO SECURITY. They do not KNOW if a legion will still show up or not. If dawn is a deadline and they will need to fight.

Sure, they improved their chances, but who knows? Maybe they will come for him anyway, it's not like hell is all fair and square.

The best part: it gets even better.

Juliet eventually panics and tells him to go, and Romeo drops a line that huh, sounds oddly familiar, doesn't it?

'More light and light, more dark and dark our woes!'

Remind me, what does Aziraphale say again? Ah, yes. Perhaps there is something to be said for shades of grey.

There is more. Yes, even more. We know the whole rescue relies on a magic trick, a switch. Guess what Juliet yearns for while telling Romeo to go save himself?

Oh, now I would they had changed voices too. While they did not for Romeo and Juliet—they kiss and part—they did for our two. One fabulous switch and we're good.

(side note: Toads? Associated with hell. Larks? Associated with the dawn, yes, but also heaven since Romeo says 'Nor that is not the lark, whose notes do beat the vaulty heaven so high above our heads.')

So, this was a whole lot of information, let's see if I can summarize my thoughts.

I believe the nightingale is a code word that has existed even before 1941 and gained a lot of importance over the years. In 1941, the song is added to the meaning and whatever happened between the two that we have not seen yet, it fundamentally changed their relationship. Maybe they kissed, maybe one of them tried to convince the other to prolong the night but they parted on not-great terms.

The nightingale and the song become a symbol of hope, a goal to achieve, another uninterrupted night, maybe, or an uninterrupted life.

When they part in the final fifteen, it's morning. Crowley points at the sky and says "no nightingales", which at that point has several different layers to it.

No nightingales because their night is over, just like with Romeo and Juliet, and please, please allow me to add another detail, because I am frothing at the mouth over this. The scene I quoted, known as balcony scene, do you know what it is preceded by?

A ball.

Star-crossed lovers defying their sides, falling in love at a ball, getting a hurried, wonderful night together but torn apart by danger of punishment, the nightingale as a dream, as a wish for unhurried time together. Family rejection, torn apart by parents, willing to die for each other so they can reunite in death.

No nightingales. The ball, the romance, is over, their dancing is over, heaven is tearing them apart, and Aziraphale returns to heaven while they are both stuck in a pit of misunderstanding and miscommunication, all bound together by fear for each other.

The thing is, Crowley hates tragedies, he never liked the "gloomy ones", and he does not want them to end in one—luckily, this isn't the end. Yes, they kiss and part, but the play keeps going. We have an entire act 3 to fix what Romeo and Juliet couldn't, to ensure that this is a COMEDY, not a tragedy.

Both Antony & Cleopatra and Romeo & Juliet died out of fear, hurried into making bad decisions because they knew what would happen if their sides were to catch up with them.

Crowley and Aziraphale can reunite heaven and hell with love, not death. This is THEIR story and they are writing the ending. No more day and night, no more deadlines, no more hiding and sneaking about, no more fear of larks and sunshine.

Good Omens will end the way it began: In a garden with two no-longer-star-crossed lovers embracing the song of a lark as well as that of the nightingale.

I hope this made sense to everyone who was no present while my mind started to vibrate itself into a puddle because the thing is I can see Neil doing all of this completely on purpose.

Thoughts? Questions? Additions? Come and join me in my insanity and until next time I have a mental breakdown over this show (probably in like two hours).

[kaiser1ns]

LOOK HERE ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ MICHAEL KAISER X FEM!READER .ᐟ at first, i was only curious as i started to show interest in you. even if you ignore me you'll fall for me for a minute. we look good together, a day without you is a one-act play of tragedy.

GO TO THE EVENT MASTERLIST

Is it a tragedy, comedy, or romance? Or everything at once? Because Michael Kaiser never looked for another lead role in his world, he was destined to be number one and to reveal the impossible things in life, and meeting you wasn’t just a coincidence—it was what he wanted. You are a flower, a rather unique and beautiful blooming flower that seems to close and shows its stings, but he’d already figured out your pretty charms.

A guy like him has talent for going to you, a guy like him is perfect for you, so stop playing hard to get and just give him a chance. Despite him not liking receiving gifts, he would buy you a rose garden, a mansion, or front-row concert tickets…just please give him a chance. You're his ideal type, let's get married because you are already featured in his daily life, always on his mind even if he doesn’t want you to be but that seems rather impossible. 

“Look here, don't run away,” you now regret inviting him to your birthday party. You only did it out of solidary, empathy and to have the good image, that you are a good person who doesn’t hold grudges against anyone, except him. Oh, he is making your blood boil. But you can't deny that it's kind of...pleasant. It wasn't awkward, not at all, but there was something left unsaid, and it was from you. How much longer are you going to lie to yourself that you don't have feelings for him?

His blue eyes held both arrogance and warmth. You want to look away, but his gaze pins you there, leaving you defenseless.

“You’re a thief, I’m the police,” he repeats, clearly enjoying himself. “Pay for your crime.” His tone is teasing, but the intensity in his eyes tells a different story, something you already know even if you tried to deny it. Scoffing and rolling your eyes, pretending you’re unaffected, though your heart’s racing. “I haven’t stolen anything,” you insist, trying to sound resentful. “And it’s my birthday, Kaiser. You could at least pretend to be nice.”

But he only grins wider, not fooled by your attempt to bring back your thorns so he could sting himself, again. “Oh, you did, and you know it. Right…” He places his tattooed hand on his chest, where his heart would be, that same maddeningly cocky look on his face. “Right here.”

Oh, he’s not serious—he can’t be. "You're impossible, you know that?” you muttered, crossing your arms, still not breaking eye contact. But your cheeks flushed, trying to control your reaction. Of all days—your special day, of all times—he was here, getting under your skin. "Mmm, impossible to resist, you mean," But even as you deny it, you’re painfully aware of how close he’s standing, of how intensely he’s watching you. 

“Oh, stop looking at me like that,” you huffed, annoyed, though your pulse quickened. “Like what?” he asked innocently, knowing full well what he was doing, his gaze flicking from your eyes to your lips.

"Like…" You were trying your best not to fumble anything and to find the right words, but when he looked at you like that it was so hard to concentrate to think of something to say. “Like you’re actually serious. You’re just playing with me, aren’t you?”

Kaiser tilted his head, as he ran a hand through his hair and sighed. “You think I’m playing? Just because I’m not as obvious about it?” He paused, his gaze more intense than before. "I’m not joking, you know. You think I go to everyone’s birthday party and play the villain to impress them?"

“Impress me? Do you think this is… impressive?” you reply, smirking despite yourself and his expression matches it—genuine, thoughtful. You couldn't believe that The German Priodgy would have a weakness and it would be you.

“I’m here because I wanted to be,” he says simply, almost like it surprises him too. “You’re here in my head, and I didn’t invite you, you know?” He gives a small laugh, and you know he’s serious despite his usual way of expressing himself.

You realize he’s waiting for a reply. He looks at you daring you to deny what he suspects, what maybe he already knows.  But saying it out loud feels impossible, terrifying even. The walls you’ve carefully built against him are thinning, but you’ve held onto them for so long that letting them down now feels like giving him too much, like admitting he’d won something he wasn’t supposed to.

For a moment, the noise of the party fades into the background. There’s only you and him, standing too close, hearts beating in sync, and a thousand unsaid things lingering in the air between you. But maybe some things don’t need to be said—at least, not yet, because soon, you'll want him and finally look his way.

©2024 kaiser1ns nineteenth birthday party.

[sematarygirls]

        KILLER!RAFE x BESTFRIEND!READER

WARNINGS .ᐟ murder, gore, dark comedy, anatomy innacuracies probably, angst?, insane continuity errors with dna evidence, rafe and reader shower together

NOTES .ᐟ i watched this movie called tragedy girls with my mom, and it inspired me to write this. just two bestfriends who love hate to kill together <3 sorry it gets a little rushed at the end. i mostly wrote it for the perimortem banter

"Rafe," you whined, looking down at the blood that had spurted from the random kook boy's neck wound right onto you. "You got blood on my new top," you huffed. "I specifically told you to avoid the jugular, so it didn't cause such a mess!"

"Well, why did you wear your new top to a fuckin' murder scene then, huh, princess?" he scoffed, his fingers flexing around the knife handle as he waved it around for emphasis, the deep red blood glistening under the warm yellow lights.

You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest. "Because I look hot," you said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Now, give me the stupid knife. You aren't even doing it right!" You held out your hand, your stance alone radiating attitude.

He looked at you, a mix of amusement and frustration dancing in his blue eyes. "And you think you can do better?" he sneered. "I mean, for fuck's sake, he's dead. What more do you want, huh?" He complained but nonetheless, did as you said, flipping the knife handle first as he handed it over.

You wrapped your fingers around the handle carefully, ignoring his exasperation as you hummed thoughtfully. "You're just so... unimaginative," you replied, your tone a bit condescending as you eyed the boy's body at Rafe's feet, clearly mulling something over.

Rafe watched you carefully, his arms crossed over his chest—a clear sign of his quickly growing irritation—as he leaned against the wall. "Unimaginative?" he repeated, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "What, are you gonna poetry read his fuckin' corpse or something?"

"Please," you scoffed, shooting him a look as you kneeled down beside the body. Your eyes sweeped over him thoughtfully, using the tip of the knife to brush a strand of hair from his face. "Stabbing is so 90s," you rolled your eyes. "It's not enough to just kill anymore. You have to be... creative," you explained, as if there was a section in Cosmo on being a teenage serial killer.

Rafe threw his hands up in the air, clearly exasperated. "Oh, it's not enough to just kill anymore, we have to be creative?" he parroted, his voice going up an octave to imitate you in an unflattering falsetto.

"Local boy found stabbed doesn't quite have the same ring as local boy found gutted, now, does it, Rafe?" You scoffed, shooting an annoyed glare his way. "It's all about the optics."

"Oh, it's all about the optics," Rafe mimicked again, finding your pretentiousness both amusing and frustrating. You were like those insufferable film bros but with murder.

"Will you stop repeating what I'm saying back to me in that condescending tone?" You stood back up, turning to face him and crossing your arms over your chest. You couldn't work with him being the world's douchiest parrot right in your ear.

"Or what, princess?" Rafe asked, his voice low and mocking. "You gonna time out and have a little temper tantrum because I'm not taking your murder 101 lecture seriously enough?" He pushed himself off the wall, his eyes never leaving yours as he stepped closer.

"I oughta gut you next, you asshole," you threatened, pointing the knife at him for good measure. Although, you both knew that you'd never actually hurt him.

"Oh, yeah? And who's gonna clean up that mess, huh?" He smirked, leaning in close so that his breath was hot against your face. "You can't even handle a little blood on your shirt without whining about it."

You rolled your eyes at his arrogance. He was completely insufferable and annoyingly hot. "Shut up," you retorted sharply, getting back down to your knees next to the boy. You put the knife down for a moment, deftly unbuttoning the buttons of the boy's shirt.

Rafe watched you work with mild interest, his eyebrows raised. "What are you doing now, giving him a post-mortem fashion show?" He asked, shaking his head in disbelief. "This is why I stick to stabbing."

You ignored his remark, picking the knife back up and stabbing into his sternum. Blood splattered onto your face, your jaw clenching as you used all your strength to drag the knife down his body, cutting him open from his chest to just below his belly button.

Rafe flinched slightly as blood went flying. "Jesus Christ, warn a guy next time," he grumbled, wiping a stray drop from his cheek. He watched you work, a grimace on his face. "Remind me never to piss you off,"

"You already do," you deadpanned, curling your fingers into his skin and prying the flaps open to reveal his internal organs. "Literally every day."

"Ha ha, very funny," Rafe said dryly, his gaze flicking to the organs spilling out of the boy's chest cavity. "What the fuck am I even looking at right now anyway?" He squinted and tilted his head, clearly trying to decipher what parts of the body he was seeing beneath all that blood.

"I don't fucking know. Do I look like a doctor to you?" You looked up at him, shrugging. It wasn't like you'd researched how to mutilate a body prior to this. You were just sort of winging it.

"You look like an insufferable know-it-all who thinks they're better than everyone else," he quipped, crouching down beside you and looking into the body. "Is that... a lung?" He asked uncertainly.

"Didn't I just say I don't know?" You asked sarcastically, giving him an 'are you fucking kidding me right now' look before turning back to peer into the mess of blood, guts, and organs. You didn't really have a plan beyond cutting the poor guy open.

"Well, this is just fuckin' great," Rafe sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I was perfectly fine with just slitting his throat and leaving him, but nooooo you had to get all creative and worry about the optics like some kind of psycho Van Gogh."

"Will you calm the fuck down," you groaned, using the back of your wrist to brush a strand of hair out of your face and smudging blood on your forehead in the process. "I can't focus with you whining in my ear."

"Me? Whining?" Rafe scoffed, his eyes widening in offense. "I'm not the one covered in blood and guts, playing amateur butcher here." He shook his head, looking at you like you were the world's biggest idiot.

"I told you. This shit will make better headlines," you defended. "In the wise words of Tiffany, stabbings went out with Bundy and Dahmer," you quoted, tilting your head in thought.

"Great, so now you're quoting fuckin' Bride of Chucky to me?" Rafe rubbed his temples, feeling a headache coming on. Leave it to you to overcomplicate something as simple as killing someone.

You grinned, looking over at him as he recalled the exact movie you quoted. "Aww, you remembered?" You had forced Rafe to watch a shit ton of horror movies over the course of your friendship, but you never really thought he was actually paying attention to them.

"How could I forget? You made me sit through every single one of those god-awful films, complete with your annoying play-by-play commentary," Rafe grumbled, but deep down, he loved how excited you got about movies. Your jokes and ramblings were the only thing that made half those movies worth watching.

You turned back to the corpse, letting out a heavy sigh as you sat back on your heels. "Should we just... leave him like this?" You grimaced, not really wanting to touch any of his organs.

"What, you're done now?" Rafe rolled his eyes, standing up and wiping his hands on his pants. "I thought you had some master plan to be the next Da Vinci of serial killers."

"Can you even name a Da Vinci painting?" You rolled your eyes, grabbing the knife and standing up, blood coating your clothes and skin. "Besides, I said we had to get creative. I never claimed to know what the fuck I was doing," you pointed out. Though, it was all semantics, really.

"Of course I can name a Da Vinci painting," Rafe huffed, though he couldn't actually remember any off the top of his head. "It's... uh... The Last Supper." He crossed his arms, glaring at you in annoyance. "And maybe the fuckin'... uh, who's that bitch with the brown hair? Oh, the Mona Lisa."

"You remembered The Last Supper before the fucking Mona Lisa—literally the most well known painting in history?" You asked incredulously, shaking your head in disbelief, having a normal conversation with him as if you weren't standing over a mutilated corpse.

"Who gives a shit about the Mona Lisa or The Last Supper for that matter," he scoffed, motioning to the dead body on the ground. "Now what the fuck are we gonna do with this guy, huh?"

You sighed, shrugging. "Fuck if I know," you looked from the corpse to him.

"Well, that's just great," Rafe said sarcastically. "We kill the guy, and now we have no idea what to do with the body. You're a real fuckin' genius, you know that?" He shook his head in exasperation.

"Okay, well, if you wanna get bitchy, technically, you're the one that actually killed him," you said stubbornly, crossing your arms over your chest in annoyance.

"Oh, because slashing him open and rearranging his insides was just so innocent?" Rafe retorted, mimicking your stance and crossing his arms.

"Okay, I never said that I was innocent," you defended yourself, gesturing around with the bloody knife as you spoke. "I just said I wasn't the one that killed him."

"Semantics, sweetheart," Rafe drawled, his eyes rolling in annoyance. "Either way, we're both fucked if the cops find this body. So, come up with a plan already." He sighed heavily, looking around the room, as if expecting a solution to magically appear.

"You come up with a plan," you fired back. Why did you have to be the one to fix this mess? You were both royally fucked if shit hit the fan, so why was he putting all the pressure on you?

"Because you're the one with the goddamn imagination," Rafe growled, jabbing a finger at you. "You're the one who wanted to get creative with killing him. So now you get to be creative with getting rid of the body, too."

"You really gonna keep throwing that in my face?" You asked, the tension in the room growing with each passion second. "I was just trying to make things more interesting!"

"Well, congratulations, you succeeded in making things interesting," Rafe spat, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Now we're up to our eyeballs in shit and you can't even come up with a basic fucking plan to dig us out."

"I have a plan, you dickhead," you shot back with a huff. "Just carry him to the bathroom," you ordered, motioning to the hallway with the bloodied knife.

Rafe's eyebrows shot up, disbelief written all over his face. "To the bathroom?" He echoed incredulously. "What the hell are we gonna do with him in there? Give him a bubble bath and sing him to sleep?" He threw his hands up in frustration.

"Just carry him to fucking bathroom, smartass," you rolled your eyes. Everything was always a fight with Rafe. He couldn't just do what you asked. No, he had to make a billion sarcastic and bitchy comments in the process. God, he was so dramatic.

"Fine, let's take the mutilated corpse to the fucking bathroom," Rafe grumbled, moving to grab the body. He grunted as he grabbed the boy under the arms "You better have a damn good reason for this, or I swear to God..."

"Do you always have to complain so much," you groaned, trailing behind him. As much as Rafe was being a shithead, you couldn't help but admire the view of his biceps flexing underneath his t-shirt as he dragged the body.

"Would you rather I be all smiles and sunshine while carrying a disemboweled corpse to the bathroom?" Rafe shot back sarcastically. He dropped the body unceremoniously into the porcelain bathtub. "Now what?" He demanded, turning to you with a glare.

"Okay, I did not disembowel him," you said, rolling your eyes at his dramatics as you turned the tub on, turning the temperature to its max. "All his organs are still in his body," you argued, waiting for the water to heat up, occasionally dipping your fingers underneath to test the temp.

"Oh, well, as long as his organs are all nice and cozy inside him, I guess that makes it all okay then," Rafe retorted, watching you carefully as you plugged the bathtub, letting the water fill up.

"The water should burn off any DNA evidence, or at the very least, make it extremely degraded," you explained, steam starting to billow up from the tub and fill the small room. "So, we can just leave him here for like, his housekeeper to find or something."

Rafe's eyebrows shot up, "Leave him for the housekeeper to find?" He echoed, "And what, we just waltz outta here, hand in hand?"

"Aww," you cooed, looking over your shoulder to grin at him. "You wanna hold my hand?"

"Fuck you," Rafe spat, but you could see the faintest hint of a smirk playing on his lips. He crossed his arms over his chest, clearly annoyed but not entirely displeased by the idea.

"You wish," you snorted, willing the tub to finish filling up. You were becoming increasingly aware of how sticky and uncomfortable the blood was on your skin, especially now that it had gone cold.

"In your dreams, maybe," Rafe shot back, though his eyes flicked down to your arms, taking in the crimson stains that painted your skin. "You're a mess," he commented gruffly.

"Well, murder isn't exactly a clean endeavor." You turned the water off and turned back to him, crossing your arms over your chest. Rafe had blood all over his hands and spatter across his face and shirt. He wasn't nearly as bloody as you, but he wasn't clean either.

Rafe looked down at his red-stained hands, flexing his fingers as if just now realizing how messy he was. He glanced back up at you, his expression unreadable. "We should clean up."

"What?" You asked, gaze darting to the glass shower in the corner. "You wanna hop in the dead guy's shower? Seems a little insensitive, don't you think?" You grinned, making a joke of the situation.

"Oh, ha ha," Rafe deadpanned, uncrossing his arms and moving past you to turn the water on in the shower. He turned to you, his expression serious. "We'll shower together."

Your eyes widened a little at his bold demand, but you couldn't deny that it was practical. "Yknow, normally, I'd say you just wanna see me naked," you teased him. "But, that's actually not a bad idea. It'll save time."

"Don't flatter yourself," Rafe scoffed, though his eyes lingered on you for just a moment longer than necessary. "Less talking, more stripping," he said, pulling his shirt over his head.

You internally groaned at the sight of him shirtless. You'd seen it before, but the view of his toned chest simply never got old. You started to pull your own clothes off. "So, what are we gonna put on once we finish cleaning all this blood off?" You asked curiously, tugging your pants down your hips.

Rafe's jaw clenched as he took in your naked form, his eyes roaming over you appreciatively before he tore his gaze away and finished undressing. "There's probably a robe or something in here," he muttered, stepping into the shower and letting the warm water cascade over his head, falling down his broad shoulders.

You hummed, nodding as you stepped into the shower with him. It was a fancy ass shower with multiple shower heads and streams of water, which made washing up with another person much easier. You tried to keep your eyes North of the equator and not sneak a peek at his dick as you pumped some soap into your palm, lathering it in your hands.

Rafe watched you from the corner of his eye as he soaped up his own hands, his expression inscrutable. "You know," he said after a moment, "for someone who just helped me murder a man, you're awfully relaxed right now."

"You know, for someone who just let me help him murder a man, you're awfully relaxed right now," you grinned, mirroring his sentiment as you rubbed the soap on your body, trying to get rid of the blood staining your skin.

"Touché," he nodded, his hands roaming over his chest and arms, scrubbing away the crimson stains.

"Now, hurry up, so we can get the fuck out of here," you said, not wanting to be in the house any longer than necessary. Every minute that ticked by with you two in the room with your victim, was one minute closer to being caught.

Rafe finished washing himself quickly, his mind already on the task at hand—getting away from the scene of the crime. He turned off the shower and reached for a towel. He handed you one and took the other, both of you drying off in record time and pulling the soft, monogrammed robes on, you muttering something about 'fucking rich people' that had Rafe rolling his eyes—considering the fact that he also had monogrammed robes.

You collected your bloody clothes and the towels you had used, not wanting to leave anything behind before sneaking out of the house undetected and jumping into Rafe's truck parked a few blocks away. Once you were finally away from the house and certain you hadn't been seen by anyone, you let out a sigh, relaxing into the seat after you buckled yourself in.

Rafe started the truck and pulled out of the parking spot, keeping an eye on the rearview mirror as he drove away from the house. He glanced over at you, noting the bloody clothes balled up in your lap. "We need to get rid of those," he said, his voice low and even.

"We'll burn them," you shrugged, your tone indicating that it was the most obvious thing in the world. You leaned your head back against the headrest. You were exhausted and oddly, starving. Who knew that murder took so much out of a person?

He nodded. "Let's head to my place. We can order some food and discuss what to do now," he laid out a plan or pieces of a plan rather.

"Sounds good to me," you agreed, looking out the window and watching as the Figure Eight mansions blew by. You couldn't believe that you has just killed someone, and more than that, you couldn't believe you had just killed someone with the kook king Rafe Cameron.

tags .ᐟ   @starkeysprincess / @cometmultiverse / @iheartjjmaybnk / @all4l0vee / @kissesfrmriri / @xoxohoneymoongirl / @bradshawed / @fallbhind

[sabrinasopposite]

star of the show; clark kent

even the brightest star

with the spotlight on her

felt like a sad girl

since the moon wasn’t there.

angst, drama, theater kid!

romeo and juliet, the tragedy of a love story. they were called star-crossed lovers for a reason—famous for it, hated for it, yet their tale became one of the most influential love stories in history. a love that barely began, but the heart had already been pierced by a dagger.

yet not every love story is a tragedy, or so y/n believed, because that’s how she felt. she was living in a romantic comedy, as she would describe her love life with clark kent—the golden retriever lead in her movie.

he was pure, the missing star in her orbit, yet now he was finally with her. clark was the kind of guy anyone could fall in love with. his charm lay not just in his smile, but in his heart—a heart full of goodness and care, the kind of heart you’d want to shield from any dagger.

y/n had always been in love with clark, ever since their middle school days together. he had always been a great friend to her, until one valentine's day, when she gently placed a soft kiss on his cheek, along with a love letter.

their love had always been there, growing with each love letter that became a confession of their feelings. then one day, clark stood in front of her, holding yellow flowers and his heart, ready to offer both to y/n.

that’s how their love story continued, until it began to crumble like stones falling apart. high school wasn’t the issue—it was that the rom-com paused at a moment when the lead character went missing.

clark often disappeared, acted strangely, or seemed to know too much. at first, y/n didn’t think it was a big deal, but it kept happening—and it never stopped.

she started to see him less and less. y/n was distracted with her theater group while clark was always gone. he’d say the torch magazine was keeping him busy, but the office was usually empty. sometimes chloe was there, but clark? he wasn’t.

one of those nights, y/n finally had him in her presence. it had been weeks since she’d seen him, but now he was there. they sat in his barn loft, one of their favorite places.

y/n sat in front of him, holding her script in hand, her eyes meeting his as she laughed softly, happily. clark read the lines of romeo, helping her prepare for tomorrow night. it was a school play—romeo & juliet—and y/n had the role of juliet.

it made her smile to have her own romeo in front of her.

clark burst into laughter. "how can you take this seriously? the words are so old, i can barely understand what they’re saying."

y/n chuckled, placing her hand gently over his. "sweetheart, you should pay more attention in english class. haven’t you read the book?" she teased him.

clark rolled his eyes but smiled. "no, maybe i should have, since my girl is juliet. i’m ashamed i won’t understand you tomorrow."

y/n chuckled, but a thought slipped out before she could stop it. "as if you’ll be there tomorrow."

clark’s smile faded, his brows furrowing in confusion. "what do you mean by that?"

"well... you’re never there," she said softly, her words tinged with hurt. "you always miss my school plays. there’s always an empty seat reserved for you." it pained y/n every time she didn’t see him in the crowd. she would wonder if he was just out of sight or waiting backstage for her, but he never was.

clark’s heart ached. he quickly grabbed her hands, holding them tightly, afraid her warmth might slip away like her heart. "love, i’m so sorry. i promise i’ll be there tomorrow, with a big bouquet of roses."

y/n chuckled, rubbing her thumb across his hands. "you know i like yellow flowers."

clark smiled softly, looking deeply into her eyes, which now held a shade of blue, reflecting his sadness and regret. "yellow it is, then."

the truth was, clark had never told y/n about his true self. it wasn’t fear that held him back, but his instinct to protect her. after everything he’d seen, all that had happened around him, and what his destiny would demand, his only thought was to keep y/n safe—safe from everyone and everything. she was his heart, and that was the part of him he couldn’t bear to risk.

she was the sun he needed.

yet, like in every romantic comedy, there’s a breaking point where the lovers reach a moment of hurt.

for y/n, that moment came as she stood on stage, the spotlight shining on her, but her eyes glistened with unshed tears. the seat reserved for him was empty again.

the star had missed her orbit once more.

the city was shining, but not for her.

it shone for superman.

pt. 2 is out!

much love!!!

ps: if u have watched romeo&juliet (1968) pls say it in unison that tom welling could be benvolio or romeo.

[notedchampagne]

What makes a tlt au work for you? Do u have any favourites out there/that you’ve thought of?

its hard because it can go down to the writing! i have a huge bias for things that put focus on the characters acting awful and driving the story forward- if a story has a plot thats great, but its the difference between "gideon and harrow keep meeting up at parties and fall a little bit in love every time" and "gideons angry she lost her childhood to the cult so she attends a party with the tridentarii to shotgun adolescent experiences, and harrowhark, frustrated that gideon is pulling on her metaphorical leash, follows to stalk her". the former retains a 5+1 fic format and is more bite-size, while the latter puts more focus into their growth as characters. im not great at articulating what i like specifically, but ill put my favorite fics below:

what if nona was dogs tugs at my heart: its post-canon, slice-of-life, and has a unique concept (said in the title). i judged a book by its cover because i thought the premise seemed too silly at first but ive been made a fool and its pet clown. it feels so true to nona the way its about all the things nona loves and how she gets to explore the world through new eyes. i love the way it explores characters softening up and getting hurt through a third person pov

we have always lived in the apartment by @thatneoncrisis i keep saying this but for the love of GOD guys this au is so good it makes me cry and feel such a deep catharsis from it. it takes gideon and harrow and the ninth as a cult and explores their struggle to adapt to a modern society when noone ever gets a break (WOW ITS JUST LIKE IN REAL L-). quinn writes the sides of griddlehark i think go overlooked in fanfic often: their codependency, their tendency to lash out when theyre defensive, their mutual paranoia and different coping mechanisms, harrows psychosis and gideons bitterness, their relationships to each other as being the only other person who really understands what the other suffered through. god. i feel lightheaded.

"but SAM, i dont like angst but i want to see this writing!" read gap between a tragedy and a comedy

"SAM, i also like when gideon and harrow are horrible because theyre maladjusted teenagers! but i want more antics where the characters drive things forward over angst!" read whats eating gideon nav

you just aint receiving is one of my FAVORITE modern aus of all time (and i heavily recommend the authors other fics as well!) if you really want to see how much i love this fic the fact that my comments take up the entire phone screen probably says a lot. its hard to put it concisely: it keeps harrows air of misanthropy and cruelty but redefines it as the result of her upbringing and personal struggle to live in a university while dealing with a backpack of mental illness and frustration. it changes gideons personality as the daughter of john gaius in a way that makes sense having her grow up with johns middling parenting skills and getting everything she ever wanted (connecting it back to kirionas personality in ntn!). it brings in side characters (specially palamedes. my beautiful boy palamedes) in ways that compliment harrow and gideon but not so obviously that they only exist to be supports. they have their own lives and ideals. its a modern au that brings in the boiling politics of johns cult uprising once again in a really novel way

semi charmed kinda life by @griddlebait. jesuchristo and all his middle names this fic is GREAT for you if you want a slice of life, coming of age type modern au that explores what its like for gideon and harrow if they actually got the space to see who theyd become outside of the stifling fate tlt has for them. as far as modern aus go im usually very hesitant to read them because im afraid modernizing the characters takes features away from their core but i really love and respect the way the author treats the 69ers with care and draws distinct lines that shows me how their grow and change while keeping a line to the anchor. also they write HIDEOUS (complimentary) PINING. DISGUSTING. some of these chapters were so chock full of dyke drama that they made me nauseous and whimsical. i think once a friend said this fic felt like if gh could be reincarnated and i like that descriptor a lot

til the cows come home is another postcanon fic that made me feel sick and crybabyish about it- i would definitely recommend it if you want to explore a happier ending with griddlehark! with this and what if nona was dogs the thing i like most about them is that they mix up vulnerability with pain and fear, so it feels more lifelike that way if that makes sense. i lost my taste in fluff fics over time but when its interspersed with struggle and characters causing problems because they cant cope with themselves it feels much more earnest and raw

this became very long. im not sorry

[the-s1lly-corner]

Dude, imagine something like: TADC x Mime! Reader. Reader usually stays quiet most of the time, but sometimes they suddenly talk startling everyone around them. At the same time, they are like, very expressive, using exaggerated gestures and facial expressions, and usually communicates solely through their miming skills. And if you wanna go extra crazy THEY COULD ALSO HAVE SOMETHING LIKE MR. MIME FROM POKEMON, where they like, do a mimic of a wall, and then a invisible wall appears out of nowhere or something like that

I hope you understood what i meant, sorry for any mistakes, English is not my first language 💖💖

TADC cast x mime!reader !

eueueu i totally understand what youre saying and i love the idea sm!! i love it when mime characters have mime physics, or when clown characters have clown physics!! love it so so so much!! sorry if this is a little short, ive been writing personal stuff all day and the back aches are starting to creep back in already </3

CAINE:

his jaw drops the first time you speak, he genuinely thought you were totally incapable of speech thanks to your whole theme going on... i think he would love your little mime tricks with the invisible walls and barriers and... did you just no clip through the floor while pretending to walk down some stairs...? where did you go?? where? was there another no clip glitch issue thing going on? he thought he fixed that...!

POMNI:

ah, a jester and her mime.... not the weirdest pairing... though granted pomni doesnt commit to the bit of being a jester and doesnt do tricks or jokes.. while you do commit... i think she would grow frustrated if you put a barrier up and made her slow down... calm down.. chill.. sure you understand the whole "finding the exit" thing going on with her, but rushing things probably wont help.... to time out she goes... probably gives you a side eye if she sees you just randomly walking on some invisible platform to just. leave in the middle of an IHA

JAX:

tries to coax you into using your powers for evil... i have a feeling jax doesnt like people who arent talkers... like being incapable of speak is one thing, i think at most is that he would make decisions for you (ie wrap an arm around your shoulder and be like "oh well me and (reader) were just thinking about......." yk? like in a joking way) but i dont think he likes quiet people... tries to coax you into speaking more... imagine you never spoke before in front of anyone and you finally reveal that you can talk, to jax, and he tries to tell everyone but no one believes him. psychological torment 101

RAGATHA:

i like to think she plays along with your mime antics, pretending to also be putting up invisible props and such... though her actions and movements are noticeably more sloppy and not as... fluid...? afterall, ragatha hasnt spent time practicing to be anywhere near your level! is a little surprised when she finds out your stuff is at least somewhat tangible within the digital world... thinks your emoting is cute..

KINGER:

so you know how he gets startled by gangle simply standing next to him? its like that with you, but he jumps when you randomly start talking next to him.. ponders... invisible safe square/cube/whatever... though i think part of the comfort of a pillow fort is that hes out of sight... but i think he would enjoy it at least a little if you created something like that for him

ZOOBLE:

enjoys that you dont talk much, zooble doesnt like chatty people i dont think... though they are willing to listen to you on days where you do feel like striking up a conversation... you actually get a laugh out of them when you banish jax to time out (aka putting up 4 see through walls around him for whatever length of time to atone for whatever crime he committed that day)

"he took my arm off.. give him an hour.."

GANGLE:

art kid meets art kid, you guys are both a little silly... okay sure your stuff is more performative, and while gangle does have a comedy and tragedy mask her thing is more so in drawing and painting imo, i love me artistic gangle... loves doing your makeup, if its not just a permanent part of your digital face, and can be customized... not much to be said here... theres comfortable silence between the two of you when you hang out since you dont talk often and gangle doesnt know what to talk about and may or may not fear ruining the dynamic between the two of you