#had a thought and had to rant for a while

[cherrygirlfriend]

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ my nerdy boy

pairing: nerd!rafe x pervert!reader synopsis: all about nerd!rafe and his popular, secretly pervy girlfriend ૮꒰ ྀི >⸝⸝⸝< ྀི꒱ა warnings: smut, masturbation (f), implied virgin!rafe, MDNI! wc: 500 a/n; this is the first rafe fic on this account that isn't a repost! anyway lmk if you want to read more about them, this was sort of a 'morning thoughts' kinda post i wrote within an hour of waking up ໒꒰ྀིっ˕ -｡꒱ྀི১

when you first met rafe, he was tutoring you for math and the moment you saw him, you thought he looked downright edible in his little specs and his slicked-back hair. he wore baggy hoodies and sweatshirts adorned with your college's name, but one time, you grabbed his bicep to 'steady yourself' (to feel him up) and you felt the hard planes of muscles hidden under his clothes that immediately gave you filthy thoughts.

from then on, you'd do anything to see that pretty blush that'd sometimes grace his defined cheeks, and it wasn't even a difficult thing to achieve. really, most of the time calling him cute was enough to get him turning as bright as a tomato.

you always wore something low-cut and tight to your tutoring sessions, biting down on your lip and shamelessly pushing your cleavage together as you pretended to listen to him explain statistics, your panties getting wetter and wetter the more and more he stumbled with his words.

when he finally gathered enough courage to ask you out on a date, you took him to see a movie, keeping your arm around his shoulders the entirety of the movie, until the final thirty minutes when you pretended to stretch and yawn, moving your hand to rest on his thigh.

rafe stiffened in his seat, a bulge starting to form in his jeans that you pretended not to notice, all the while drawing hearts on the inside of his thigh with your long, pretty nails.

when you two finally started going out officially, you could tell that he didn't have much experience with relationships, his kisses were clumsy and he kept apologizing if he was 'doing it wrong' and you thought it was the most adorable thing ever.

the first time he let you into his dorm room, it was like his personality had been transformed into a bedroom. when he slipped off into the bathroom, you rolled around in his sheets, smelling his shampoo on his pillow, your hand going to rub yourself over your leggings.

you giggled when you saw all the different boxer shorts neatly arranged in his drawer, grabbing a blue plaid pair and slipping them into your bag.

later that night, you called him, wearing his boxer shorts, your arousal soaking them the moment you put them on. he answered in a groggy voice that caused another pang of arousal to go through your body. he'd been up late doing homework, explaining the subject of his essay while you simply 'mmhm'ed and 'oh?'ed at everything the boy said, too busy rubbing yourself to pay any real attention.

you were looking at a picture that you'd secretly taken of him as you worked yourself closer and closer, picturing his hand was the one getting you off, thinking about what it'd be like to jerk him off with your favorite strawberry-scented lotion.

when you finally felt your orgasm rock through you, you bit down on your pillow to muffle the moans and the 'nngh!'s that escaped you.

and for the next ten-or-so minutes, you just listened to him rant about his classes, your hand still in his boxer shorts, a satisfied smile on your lips, thinking of all the ways in which you wanted to defile his innocence.

[thuriweaver]

#OMG so true#I never thought MrBallen was 100% accurate anyway but#he did a story about Helios flight 522#and he said “there was a button that controlled how much air was in the plane and it was switched to off” and I just#Sir that is a gross misrepresentation of what happened#there were people in the comments literally asking why the hell the plane even had that button#because it was like having a self destruct#no#it was a switch that toggled the plane's pressurization system between manual and automatic#it had been switched to manual so the plane could be pressurized on the ground while the mechanics checked out a reported issue#that issue could only be replicated if the cabin was pressurized the way it would be at altitude#you need the ability to do that so you can make sure doors and seals are working#and the fuselage isn't leaking#it's important#nothing on a plane is unimportant#and when the plane started issuing low pressure warnings and oxygen masks started dropping#which is what's designed to happen in the event of depressurization#the pilots were told by a ground crew to check that switch#but they were distracted because they'd decided the issue was a fuse#this was a case of human error#not poor plane design#which is the case for MOST incidents#'a button that controls how much air is in the plane' i mean#at altitude#the atmosphere is thin and hypoxia sets in quickly yes because there's not much oxygen#which is why the plane needs to be pressurized#but wow that made it sound like that button turned some magical oxygen reserve on and off#it does not

I'm sorry, @randomslasher, your plane geek rant needs to be seen

popular YouTube channels are great and informative until they make a video about a topic you're informed on and then the house of cards comes crashing down as you realize how utterly wrong they are about most things

[xiaq]

Story time: Amazon can go fuck itself, and other genteel thoughts.

Good evening. I’m angry.

Up until now, I’ve purchased the majority of items I can’t thrift from Amazon because it’s easy and cost-effective, despite the moral qualms I have about the company. Previously, support was simple. If an item was damaged or a package didn’t arrive, you hopped on chat/the phone, provided proof, and they gave you a refund or return label.

But some shitstain from on high has introduced a new “incident report” process when something goes wrong. You submit your details, you wait 72 hours, and then they give you a refund. This would also be fine. If it fucking worked. But I have, at this point, irrefutable evidence that this is not actually how the process is intended to work. It’s meant to drive you so far up the wall that you either die from a stress-induced heart attack, or rage quit, and they get to keep your money.

In the last several months, I’ve had to submit three incident reports for damaged and undelivered items (I’m also encountering a lot more issues with item delivery, but that’s a different story).

ALL THREE TIMES, the process has taken weeks rather than days because ALL THREE TIMES they conveniently “had no record” of multiple incident reports I submitted despite the fact that I had confirmation emails each and every time.

Now, I’m a petty bitch, so even though the hours I was spending checking in, waiting on hold on the phone, being passed from agent to agent, was not worth the $10 and $20 refunds I was trying to get them to honor, I wasn’t going to give up. This last time, though. Oh they really tried.

So. My item isn’t delivered. I submit an incident report on the 12th and get my confirmation email of the submission on the 12th. I haven’t heard back by the 14th so I call and check. Shockingly, they have no record of my report. I submit another one, get another confirmation email. I call back the next day to check they received it. They have not. I beg them to let me forward the confirmation emails I have. I ask what else I can do different. They tell me to submit a new report and hang up on me. I submit another report. I receive another confirmation email. I call the next day. Can you guess? They have no record of it. This time, I ask for them to stay on the line with me while I submit a new report and confirm it’s been received. He confirms receipt and promises I will receive a response by the 21st. I record this conversation because I have a suspicion.

Hello. It is the 21st. Have I received a response? No. I call back. THIS ASSHOLE, who I’m pretty sure is reading this shit from a script, says, (are you ready for this) “There’s no record of an incident report, you’ll need to submit one.” I insist that I had confirmation in writing and verbally. She insists it does not exist.

So I tell her. I now have four confirmation emails. I have a recording of an Amazon support person with their credentials assuring me with the product number stated, that they’ve received my report. I also have been recording this conversation. And if she cannot assist me, I will be posting those emails and both recordings to every social media platform I have, filing a BBB complaint, and checking with my lawyer to see what options I have for legal action (do I have a lawyer? Of course not. But she doesn’t know that).

Immediately, she is backpedaling. “Oh, let me check again, maybe I missed it.” Less than 30 seconds later she’s back on the line. “I’m so sorry for the misunderstanding, I do have your report here. I will process a refund now.” Shocking. I am shocked.

IT SHOULD NOT TAKE THIS MUCH EFFORT TO GET A COMPANY TO HONOR THEIR PROMISED LEVEL OF SUPPORT.

Jesus Christ.

B and I will be finding different local places to purchase items we tend to buy via Amazon now, because I have every intention of ending our Prime membership. It looks like between Costco and Target we should be covered.

Anyway. No point to this except to rant. Thanks for reading if you got this far. I’m going to go lay under the weight of my dog and try to get my heart rate down.

[konjiangs]

A truth pollen fic where everyone thought SQH getting hit with truth pollen wasn't going to be that bad, and the only person panicking was SQQ. SQQ was already prepared to be on damage control to whatever secrets SQH might spill. But instead of SQH being loud and obnoxious, he kept saying, "I'm sorry," in a soft, pained voice.

"I'm sorry...I'm sorry that I'm not good enough. This world deserves better." SQH blurted out. SQQ stood there in shock. He didn't think SQH blamed himself for how the world turned out.

While SQQ often directed his anger at SQH when shitty situations arose but he didn't actually blame SQH for it. He knew SQH had no control over the situation, and he suffered a lot in the world he created, even more than SQQ did.

"Shidi..." Everyone around SQH tried to calm him down, but he just wanted to leave and hide under his bed. He was forced to stay so MQF could find an antidote for him. Like everyone else, LQG was shocked by SQH, and he resorted to his default method of comforting people, which was to bring him soft blankets and pillows.

Everyone had seen SQH fake cry before to escape situations, but when he fakes it, he cries loudly to cause a scene. Compared to right now, where SQH mumbled more apologies under his breath while tears streamed down his face. It was unnerving to see the usually active SQH looking so still and defeated, like the words were draining his energy. Everyone just wanted him to feel better, but it wouldn't fix the underlying issue even after he gets cured.

After hours of research, the cure turned out to be a simple kiss, a true love's kiss. SQQ quickly directed LBH to send a message to MBJ.

The moment MBj showed up, to everyone's confusion, SQH perked up and started his usual thigh-hugging rant. It was like nothing was wrong with him, but throughout the rant, he would still slip in a couple of 'sorry'.

"Qinghua." MBJ said as he gently caressed SQH's face.

"You are enough for this king. Don't be sorry for being you." MBJ said fondly as he leaned in to kiss SQH. Their lips touched in a soft peck. SQH looked up at MBJ, and for once, he didn't see all his mistakes; instead, he saw a person who loved and cherished him. SQH's eye closed slightly into a crescent shape as he smiled at MBJ.

"Thank you."

[wemlygust]

The fic is here. In the comments, in response to a positive comment that called this "the best kind of crack fic," the author says, "One correction: this is a story about popular science and fairies. Please, don’t use the term “fic”. I spent way too much effort working on it."

P.S. also this is the author's pfp:

The author... truly did spend a shitload of time and effort on it, including on detailed research into the Chernobyl disaster and how reactors work, but that is not actually unusual for fanfic. That literally has nothing to do with whether it's fanfic or not. And. It's about Tinkerbell. And they posted it with the fandom tag "Disney Fairies" and the character tag "Tinkerbell". Wtf did they expect?? Such Terry Goodkind-esk, "this blatantly fantasy story is not fantasy because it's good and I refuse to acknowledge that it's built out of by-the-numbers tropes and political rants," energy. Anyway, the fic includes this video in the middle of it. Watching this will give you an accurate understanding of the fic as a whole.

Also, a quote: “Thanks,” the earthborn fairy answered without really understanding what her guest meant. “But I thought that good is just something positive and kind. It has nothing to do with energy, does it?” “It does. And I’ll show you how.” smiled Celestia. “I cooked the dinner while you were sleeping. Or rather a breakfast? Whatever. We can measure exactly how much energy this casserole contains. Then we add the amount of energy that you would need to cook it yourself, and we get the amount of good measured in joules.”

“I don’t know. Something is wrong with this reasoning,” Tink took a fork, pinched at a little piece of the dish and tasted it carefully. The casserole was delicious. Who would have thought that a guest from the far future could cook so well? Although, that was not really that much of a challenge if you had an all-knowing helper!" Tinkerbell's response there just absolutely kills me. xD

you will not guess where this ao3 summary is going

[luwritesstuff]

Breaking Point

Spencer Reid x reader

notes: angst/arguing followed by fluff/comfort, gn!reader, no use of y/n

wc: 884

Every relationship had their weakness, the one thing that tested how strong two people really were together. You and Spencer found out months into dating that your relationship's pressure point was exhaustion. It hit you both after two back to back cases across the country in one week, a friend’s wedding on Saturday, and a dinner with your parents on Sunday. By the next week, the two of you were stretched thin.

For you, the exhaustion made you irritable. Things you usually had patience for were getting under your skin and turning you into, quite frankly, an asshole. Spencer somehow had the most patience in the world and this only pissed you off more. Why wasn't he annoyed that your neighbors kept taking up two parking spots? Why was he so calm when you lost power for 12 hours?

As much as you ranted, Spencer listened. He made it a point to be a good boyfriend even on your worst days. This didn't mean that the exhaustion didn't get to him too. Spencer’s lack of sleep brought out his insecurities. The more irritable you got, the more worried Spencer became that he was the one annoying you.

On a normal week, you had more control over your emotions. You were thoughtful about how you spoke to Spencer and you were able to let the small stuff roll off your back. But this week wasn't a normal week and you couldn't stop the anger that kept slipping out of you around every corner. Spencer’s solution was to give you space, but deep down, you didn't want to be alone. Not even on your worst day did you want Spencer not to be curled up on your couch with you.

And how could Spencer say no to you? He wasn't evil, if you asked him to stay, he'd stay. Even if you had a permanent scowl on your face and didn't offer any conversation.

“Spencer!” You groaned, fighting the urge to stomp your foot like a child. “Why do you keep putting your wet towel on top of mine? There's another hook behind the door and every time I go to use my towel, it's wet!” You brought the towel out to Spencer and threw it onto the couch. Before he could finish his apology, you were continuing, “It just drives me crazy, honey. It makes me cold getting out of the shower and-”

“If you hate having me around so much, then why am I even here?” Spencer cut you off, raising his voice in a way you'd never heard directed at you before. Anyone who didn't know Spencer well would see his words as anger, but you knew Spencer well and you could feel the hurt and insecurity seeping out through his voice.

You both froze, staring at each other in silence while you replayed his words in your head. After a beat, your shoulders sagged and you moved to sit on the opposite end of the couch from him. “Shit,” you sighed and grabbed the towel to start folding it, “I'm being mean, I'm sorry. I do want you here,” you promised and looked over to find Spencer staring at his lap.

“It's fine if you don't, just… tell me that. I don't want to keep pissing you off and making things worse,” his voice was calmer now and your heart ached. Spencer, the light of your life, felt unappreciated and unloved, because of you.

You reached out to take both of Spencer’s hands into your own and gave them a squeeze. “Hey, I want you here. I love you,” you emphasized, “having you here helps and I'm sorry I haven't been showing it. This week was just… you know how it was. And my parents just get under my skin, but I shouldn't have taken that out on you. I'm sorry, sweetheart.” Spencer couldn't hold any anger towards you if he tried and the thought made you want to cry. Your Spencer, that you were cold and bitter to, still held your hands tightly and pulled you to his chest after your apology.

“I'm sorry I put my wet towel on top of yours. I know you like having a warm towel after your shower,” he said softly and kissed the top of your head, “and I'm sorry I raised my voice at you.”

You sniffled and shook your head against Spencer’s chest. “No, don't apologize for that. You should've raised your voice at me sooner, I was being a brat,” your voice was muffled by Spencer’s shirt but he took every word in, rubbing your back as you spoke.

After you'd both calmed down, Spencer took you to bed where you both slept a solid three hours. You woke up feeling lighter than you had all week and Spencer felt relieved to have you back to your usual self. “There you are, my beautiful love,” he whispered and brushed your hair from your face.

“You're one of a kind, Spence. Let's not overdo ourselves like that anymore. Next weekend, we’re taking both days off and we’re not seeing anyone but each other,” you promised and rolled over until you were straddling Spencer’s hips. His thumbs traced shapes into your hips and he agreed eagerly by pulling you down into a kiss.

[mask131]

This is about Neil Gaiman's work - this is NOT about the rape accusations, but it is about the aftermath of them. I wanted to make a post for some times now about works you could read that were similar to Gaiman's works if you wanted to go see something akin to his fictional world without directly supporting him. Which would have been a VERY easy post since Gaiman kept listing everywhere the works that influenced directly or indirectly his own novels and creations. But I realized other people were already doing this, so I just thought "Heh, let's not bother with this".

And then I randomly stumbled upon this post which is trending on Tumblr. And this post got me a little mad. Because while I do agree that several of the facts in there should be more well-known and more talked about... I also think this post is quite unfair in its depiction of how Gaiman acted towards his inspirations.

People are currently screaming that Neil Gaiman plagiarized stuff by "taking huge inspiration from things and not crediting people". Except... he did credit people. It's just that his fans never bothered to go look for what inspired him. I was there back in the old days - so I saw exactly how it went. Don't start telling me Neil Gaiman purposefully stayed "silent" about the works that inspired him - I clearly saw how people were just apathetic. Myself when I compiled lists and made posts about all the works that preceeded Neil Gaiman or that he explained were his inspirations for things, people didn't bother and had no interest... but when I made a list of Gaiman's work suddenly everybody reblogged. Whether Gaiman plagiarized or not is not the thing I want to talk about today - but I want to HEAVILY criticize the way people are saying "Neil Gaiman never said he took X from X" when in fact, he did, and people were just too lazy to do their research. (Or, if you take the "Gaiman is a villain " angle, Gaiman counted on the fact people would not bother to read the original books and he won his bet!)

I am deeply sorry for this rant but it is a little trigger for me, since I have been studying and exploring the "chain" of inspirations and rewritings throughout literature and the fantasy genre (half for university work, half for personal hobby), and I have seen people literaly ignore all the bibliographies given to them under titles like "If you want to read more of the sort". [For example the original post talks about how Martin was very honest about how he took inspiration from Druon's book series. Fair. But nobody is talking about how he indeed kind of "plagiarized" Memory, Sorrow and Thorn. A lot of people don't know about this series, despite said series having literaly almost all of ASoIaF's supernatural - in fact, the reason Martin seems to be under-using his own supernatural creations, like the White Walkers, is precisely because they don't come from his mind and they are just a copy of Williams' Norns and he seems to not really know what to do with them. But that's a talk for another day.]

EDIT: I realized the post got very long, so all my personal objections and my argumentative points against the post I linked above will be under a cut. And if you want a conclusion to my long rant below the cut, it is this one: You can shit all you want about Gaiman, but at least get your facts right. It is not because someone turns out to be a bad person that you must feel the need to blast cultural misinformation. Heck, I will directly compare it to how the entire Internet wished and wanted Rowling to have "plagiarized" Gaiman's Books of Magic, because of their similarities, only for Gaiman himself to point out, no, it was not plagiarism, it was just a set of similarities and coincidences due to both works coming from a same British culture with a specific background in children literature and fantasy works. It just happened that people didn't know anything outside of Harry Potter and Gaiman's works and so assumed it was the only two pieces of a much vaster puzzle...

Yes, Neil Gaiman is very derivative. Yes he is very imitative. But he never hid it? He always said he was, he always pointed out the works that influenced him, he always listed the stuff that he based his own works upon - down to sometimes helping these works come out of obscurity when they were too forgotten (like the Lud-in-mist novel?). People are doing a "surprised Pikachu face" today but... he never hid his derivatiness. In fact it was a certain part of the "charm" people found in his work back in the days. He never hid anything, it's just that a lot of people didn't want to see it or didn't care about it...

Gaiman posted an entire page on his blog for American Gods (back in the early days of Internet, he had a blog to follow his writing process for American Gods, weeks after week, you can still find it somewhere) listing the three dozen of books that inspired him/that he took elements from/that he learned stuff from. People can accuse him of having plagiarized Zelazny's work in American Gods because of one scene - Wednesday having Shadow drive into the "Backstage", which is a rewrite of the "driving to Amber" scene from The Nine Princes of Amber. But the accusation of "plagiarism" becomes a bit muddled when you know that A) Gaiman has been screaming for years about how the main source of inspiration for American Gods were all of Zelazny's mythological works and B) He literaly dedicated American Gods to Zelazny, first page you open.

When does an homage becomes too much? When is plagiarism allowed? Is taking after public domain a bad thing? What are the moral consequences of your work overshadowing your source of inspiration? These are questions I am not wanting to answer today and this post isn't about them - plus things are even more complex when you remember Gaiman was one of the most fervent defensers and advocates of fanfiction, reacting positively to it and encouraging people to do it a lot ; as well as one of the main celebrities on Tumblr to warn people to NOT send him fanfics so that it wouldn't cause legal troubles of potential plagiarism.

Anyway, my actual angry rant is below.

I/ Tanith Lee and Sandman

The post that got me angry starts with Tanith Lee. I do agree that it is a shame Tanith Lee is not more talked about and didn't receive as much fame as she deserved. I do agree that Neil Gaiman's work was heavily inspired by Tanith Lee's writing. I do agree Gaiman's work overshadowed Lee's own (for a long time I didn't know she was the first one to do a vampiric Snow-White twist, before Gaiman's own). However I have to recuse the idea that Sandman is a rip-off of Tales from Flat-Earth.

It doesn't help that the person who made this original claim clearly doesn't know very much about either Lee's Flat-Earth or Gaiman's Sandman (with easy to debunk claims like how "Delusion" is one of Gaiman's Endless - no, the character does not exist). For example the poster rightfully compares how the top-dogs of the supernatural pantheon of Lee's Flat-Earth are the Masters of Night, Death and Delirium, wth the Master of Night's physical appearance echoing Dream of the Endless' appearance... However the comparison stops there, unlike what the poster tries to claim, because the Master of Night is a demon who rules over hatred, fear, curses and malevolence first and foremost - and is this world's equivalent of Satan/Iblis - and is not a personification of dreams, imaginations and sleep like Morpheus. Also, unlike what the OP claims, the Demon Princes are not like the Endless, "eternal entities beyond gods" - on the contrary, it is shown by book one the Demon Princes CAN be killed, and that there are gods who are a distinct species far above the Demons.

It is also incomplete to try to claim that having Dream and Death be siblings is a "proof" of Tanith Lee plagiarism... Because Gaiman is very explicit in his narrative of how Dream and Death are transpositions of the Thanatos & Hypnos/Thanatos & Morpheus twinship present in Greco-Roman mythology (Ovid's "Gates of Horn and Ivory" are literaly there in the first issues). Plus, since we do have the original manuscripts and the proposition draft Gaiman sent to DC (it is in the bonus of collected editions and in companion books), we know Gaiman originally had just three Endless in mind, Death, Dream (who was a reshape of DC's Sandman super-hero), and Destiny (who pre-existed in DC's universe), Delirium only coming far later.

That being said, I am feeling very sad for Tanith Lee through the testimony of her friend - how, again, she had trouble becoming a recognized author despite her work being very influential and frequently talked about for the fantasy genre (all the fantasy manuals and guides and encyclopedias of France list her among the authors to be read), and I do feel her distate for Neil Gaiman's work vampirizing hers is very justified. But to jump into saying Sandman is a copy-paste or a full on rip-off of Flat-Earth is unfair and very limiting. Flat-Earth was one of the inspirations of Sandman, but it doesn't own "everything" to it.

Plus, the OP also gets very angry at how Gaiman "never" talked about Tanith Lee and ... you know how I got to learn about Tanith Lee, and how I got encouraged to read her? Through Gaiman's Tumblr blog, where he regularly listed her as part of the authors that inspired him/the fantasy authors he enjoyed/the authors he encouraged others to read. I saw her appear like five different times on his Tumblr, and without him I probably wouldn't have started getting curous about her. So he did talk about her and he did present her as one of his inspirations and favorite authors... At least on Tumblr, and for several years.

II/ Coraline and Thief of Always

The comments mention Coraline and the Thief of Always as possibly being another "plagiarism" of Gaiman... I remember when Neil Gaiman was asked on his Tumblr about how similar Thief of Always and Coraline were, and he simply answered with the fact he and Barker had a similar thought process and came up with akin works though very different in the results.

You could say it is a form of copy or plagiarism (though Gaiman at least did an effort to make Coraline the almost opposite of Thief of Always in several ways). But I will have to point out that that Neil Gaiman and Clive Barker know each other, and that it has been reported, talked about and evoked a lot of times how they hanged in the same circles, with the same people, and exchanged thoughts, and talked about their mutual creations. We know Gaiman talked of the early Sandman issues when they were created with Alan Moore and Clive Barker, while Moore talked of his creation of From Hell. We also know that a part of the Sandman's universe was indirectly created by Barker - as Gaiman explained the idea for naming Desire's domain "The Threshold" came from a story Clive Barker had planned but never wrote, exploring the puns "threshold" could offer.

To my knowledge Clive Barker never claimed that Gaiman plagiarized him or stole from him with Coraline? But I might be wrong.

III/Other details

The comment about the "Lovecraft and Doyle" comparison is clearly taken out of context, because it was literaly about a story which WAS a literal Sherlock Holmes meets Cthulhu fanfiction, "A Study in Emerald". The commenter seems to think this comment applied to Gaiman's entire work? No it does not.

I don't know anything about the Lenny Henry situation, I will have to look for this.

[atiyasnake]

Ended up writing a lil something. :p (will prob write more later)

~

Danny hated when people grabbed his face.

Dash would grab it and push his face against whatever surface was nearby. The wall. His desk. A locker. The floor. He'd hold him down while others just watched or ignored them.

Maddie used to do it lovingly, but after she found out, it was with a grip that had her nails digging into his skin. It turned his stomach with how quickly her touch became painful even after all these years.

When Vlad first did it, he was comparing him to his mother. He'd grip his chin and turn his face while his eyes tracked every inch of skin, trying to find an echo of Maddie in him. Eventually, he just did it with an odd glint in his eye, and instead of Maddie, he talked about how he'd mold Danny into being perfect. The perfect son. He did it as Plasmius, too. They'd fight and when Plasmius had him. He didn't let go. He'd squeeze and squeeze as he ranted. If he was feeling particularly upset, he'd let flames touch Danny's skin.

The GIW Agents were clinical with their touch. As if he were an object, they would move with analytical eyes and no thought towards just how much Danny could turn his head without causing pain. After all, he was an unfeeling subject. Inhuman. An ‘It’. They would grab without warning or sympathy. Uncaring of existing wounds or bruises. They'd push his head hard back into straps, and he wouldn't be able to move. And when they wanted him to eat their own special concoction inspired by Blood Blossoms, they'd pry his jaw open and keep it shut as he struggled.

He made the mistake hoping he could avoid that sickening touch when he came to Gotham, yet these new hands grabbed his face in a mocking playful way. As if they had just found their new favorite toy. They lifted his face up to face a camera, letting it get the full view of his face as they chattered behind him.

They kept laughing. Danny could barely move.

He couldn't fight against the fingers playfully tapping against his skin. Whether it was from the hit to his head earlier, being utterly restrained, or the after effects of whatever the GIW did, he didn't move.

Those hands titled his head back, his neck painfully wretched back as he was forced to look up at the ceiling.

Instead, he saw a white face and mouth lined in red. All too reminiscent of Freakshow, the Joker smiled, “Ready for some fun?”

Shrodinger's BatCat Child

DP x DC Prompt

When Selina was pregnant with her's and Bruce's child, she was thinking of settling down and raising the child. But when she had given birth to the boy, someone had broken into the hospital and stolen not only her baby but also other babies had been taken from the hospital. She tried to find out who took her baby boy but couldn't find the perpetrator.

Heartbroken at the loss of her baby, Selina masks her grief with being Catwoman. She doesn't tell Bruce about their baby boy, even after the new boy that goes under the Bats wing. She does treat each new Robin as if they were her own son. She talks to Harley about what had happened when Damian comes into the fold, where she then reveals that she had a baby with Bruce to the man and what happened to their baby after a few sessions with Harley.

Danny is on the run from Amity, from the Fentons, from the GIW, and from Vlad. The Fentons found out about him being Phantom and attacked him. They then teamed up with the GIW to hunt him down. He doesn't want to go to Vlad, as the Fruitloop is slowly becoming more and more crazy to get him to become his son and slowly focusing less and less on Maddie.

He heads to Gotham, as the city spirit, when she was chosen to be part of his court because of her knowledge and power, had told him that he was one of hers, a child born in Gotham to a woman that wasn't Maddie, Catwoman, and that's also how he found out that he's the son of Batman as well, because Lady Gotham gave him that answer as well, but she didn't tell him their real names. He just hopes that his mom and dad will be happy to learn that their son is still (mostly) alive and on his way to them.

And then Danny is caught by the Joker. He couldn't put up that much of a fight as he used up a lot of Ectoplasm escaping the lab he was in. Tucker's family moved away during middle school, and so did Sam's family when the start of high school came, Jazz had returned from college to help him escape the lab he was held in, but had to go back if she wanted to keep the scholarship.

The Batfam was having a family day out in Gotham. Bruce and Selina were engaged and wanted to bond as a family. Then Joker began broadcasting across Gotham.

"Hello Gotham! Today, I have a special guest with me"

The camera panned to a boy tied up in a chair, head hanging low.

"Brucie Boy seems to have forgotten to mention that he has another brat to call his own, so I took it upon myself to inform you all about him!"

When Joker grabbed the face of the boy and showed it to the camera, the entire Batfam tensed. Because the boys face had the features of both Bruce and Selina, the cuts, bruises, and blood on the boys face couldn't hide that fact, and now they need to find the boy to save him from what Joker has planned for their son.

[laswells-ashtray]

I have returned from the depths of the void that's called depression! :D

Anyways, hello again. Ever since I've been reading your posts of different rambles and all that about different cod characters Mac has somehow wormed his way into my heart. (Curse the Scottish characters somehow always worming their way into my heart)

Something that I thought of while trying to catch myself up on some things I've missed was what if Mac was the one who got hurt on a mission instead of Price? Either by the usual occurrences or even trying to protect Price on a mission. Or even possibly being left behind on purpose by another captain that was willing to do anything necessary to get John on his team, even if it meant leaving a fellow captain behind on a mission to the enemies.

(Also I'm slowly starting to try and get over my fear of asking not anonymously, which I think is a good thing for me. Makes me happy about it. :D)

Always try to keep your depression with a sword and eat some yoghurt. It's the only way. Anyway, hello anon. I am proud of the people telling me that I've made them a MacMillan fan because I know fuck all about that man and I just write him based on the people around me and their Scottish-isms.

John wants to scream. He wants to scream and break everything in sight, storming through the lifeless halls like a twister. His fury sporadic and terminal.

He doesn't, he sucks in a breath through gritted teeth and holds it until he hears another beep, breathing out.

Captain MacMillan is a highly sought-after man, proficient and minacious. He's virtue. Righteousness in the shape of man. A blinding beacon of integrity, the type of good that stings to lock gazes with because it isn't achievable in any other form.

Now, he looks half-dead and human. Painfully human. The dread drapes itself over John's shoulders like a weighted blanket. The room feels glacial, goosebumps racing up John's arms as his eyes linger on the blanched face of his captain.

The room is dizzying with timelessness and eternity. It feels ungodly. Like those interminable moments in a confessional as you await the man who cradles your absolution. There is no salvation here, only silence and wasted breath.

Every part of him aches, the lingering prickling sensation under his skin is torturous. He has no injuries, only reluctant hope to get him by.

Mac doesn't fit on the bed, his shoulders are too broad as is his waist, and his legs are too long. The bed is fit for John, the man who belongs in it. It was his originally but he'd never known a Scot who wouldn't dive in front of a bullet like the scar would be a badge of honour.

The bullet should've pierced his flesh, blood should've wept from his wound and he should be the one with a machine monitoring his heart rate. Not Mac, never Mac.

He should've been pacing around John's hospital room, a string of thinly veiled Scottish threats as he glowered at John's unconscious figure. The sergeant should've woken up to his captain ranting and raving at him, skelping his lug before pulling him into a bear hug and letting John slump against him as he radiated heat and comfort.

Instead, he stares at the body of one Captain MacMillan and no one stares back. No dark blue eyes, like glaciers crashing down into the ferocious, thrashing waves below to offer him consolation in such a dull, pallid room.

Truly, he's alone. The entire building reeks of chemicals, antiseptic doused over every molecule in the foundations. It's sterile. There's no scent of Mac's Vaseline men's deodorant that smells as ridiculously cheap as it looks. He's never smelt a deodorant that dries out your lungs quite as effectively as that one, he longs for that smell so much that it throbs in his chest. There's no faint smell of cigarettes because Mac had decided his life's mission was a lung cancer diagnosis, John can't remember the last time he smoked. He'd had to leave the room to do so.

He wants the other man to wake up, wants to scream himself hoarse and shake him until he gets the message. His life is not with more than John's.

He sighs, uncrossing his legs and lifting his elbows from the arms of the chair to cross them over his chest as he slumps back in the unbelievably firm, craped seat by MacMillan's bedside. He tries to blink away the stinging in his eyes as they watch the rising and falling of the Scotsman's chest.

If he tries to listen past the beeping, he can almost hear it.

"Am awright, son."

[tqlepatia]

─ Headcanons young ambessa

Certified big spoon

Ambessa was always the big spoon, no negotiations. She loved wrapping herself around you, making you feel safe and snug. It wasn’t just a comfort thing; it was her way of saying, “I’ve got you, don’t worry about a thing.” If you ever tried to switch it up and be the big spoon? She’d just laugh and drag you right back into her arms like, “Nah, nice try, but this is my job.”

Cigarette Hater with her soul

Smoking? no. She hated the smell with a burning passion. If someone lit up near her, she’d literally wave the smoke away and hit them with a “Do you have to do that right now?” If you smoked, she’d pull some petty drama like refusing to kiss you until you brushed your teeth or popped a mint. “Kiss me when you don’t smell like an ashtray, babe.”

if mess w/you, is messing with her

She was ride or die for the people she cared about. If someone even looked at you funny or the wrong way, Ambessa was already cracking her knuckles, ready to throw hands. She wouldn’t always make a scene (unless it was deserved), but trust, she’d have a very direct convo with anyone who crossed the line. Messing with her loved ones = bad life choice.

Morning mushball

She acted all tough, but mornings were her soft hours. She’d stay in bed, groaning about “five more minutes” while pulling you into a bear hug. Honestly, it was the only time you’d catch her all cuddly and vulnerable without her usual walls up. Nights? Whole different story—she’d be all business and focus, but you could still sneak in and bug her for affection if you were bold.

Lowkey Sentimental

Ambessa had a secret stash of sentimental stuff she’d never admit to keeping. That random flower you gave her one time? Pressed in a book. A doodle you left on her notes? Saved. She wasn’t gonna talk about it, but if you ever found the stash, she’d play it off like, “What? It’s nothing. Don’t make it weird.”

Goofy, but only in private

Around other people, she was all stoic and intimidating, but when it was just you? Full clown behavior. She loved teasing you, throwing sarcastic one-liners, or doing dumb stuff like dramatically mimicking your expressions just to make you laugh. Catch her laughing at her own jokes? All bets are off.

Stubborn af

If Ambessa thought she was right about something, good luck changing her mind. She’d dig her heels in and argue for hours. The only way to win? Either outsmart her with some clever logic or just kiss her mid-rant. She’d roll her eyes and be like, “Fine, you win—for now.”

Thrived on chaos

She had this wild side where she’d do things just for the adrenaline rush. Climbing something dangerous? Breaking a rule just because she could? All in a day’s work. If you hesitated, she’d smirk and say, “What’s life without a little chaos, babe?” Then drag you into whatever nonsense she had planned.

Affection

Once Ambessa decided you were her person, that was it. She’d back you up no matter what and stand by you through thick and thin. But if you betrayed her? Game over. She wasn’t about giving second chances easily—she’d cut you off so fast your head would spin.

Loyal to the bone

Young Ambessa was basically a mix of “don’t mess with me” energy and “I’ll secretly spoil the people I love.” She’d act tough, but if you were lucky enough to get close, you’d see that big ol’ heart under all the sharp edges.

[doctoremrys]

So, since I cannot rant about this somewhere else, I'm gonna rant over here.

A few days ago, I've started reading another Merthur fic on AO3, I've noticed after a few chapters, that the write of this fic repeated some paragraphs by accident, so I've commented on it so that she'll know to edit it whenever she could, I asked her if it was on purporse, and she was like, 'oh s*it, I forgot to delete this, thank you'. We had a nice conversation, and I told her that if I'll see other errors like the one I found, then I'll comment to her about it again.

I did comment again a few times, and the author answered to me, and I thought that we were on good terms. After almost finishing rhe fic, I've commented about the action of one character, and pointed out to her another error, so that I could help her out when she'll edit her fic again.

Today I started reading the second part in the series of the fic, and it turns out that she bloody blocked me. I do not know why, I do not understand why she did it. I wanted to criticize sone stuff, but I asked for permission beforehand, and didn't write one, so I seriously do not understand why a writer would block soneone that helped her out for furure edits! I feel like I've watsed my bloody time, commenting, and pointing out stuff that she should've noticed before publishing a fic, for example, repeating the same sentences and paragraphs on the same chapter, and while I do not judge a writer who makes mistakes, it is not my job to edit those, I'm not a beta nor the writer, and I still helped her out. She even commented to me that she had seen my comments and that she'll edit the fic when she'll have the time, and I answered to her "hey, no pressure, if I'll see more errors like that, I'll comment again", and then she bloody blocks me!

I even told her that I get it that people do this kind of mistakes, and complimented her that I hadn't found any gramnatical errors, which is a hard thing to do!

And then she blocks me, and I cannot even ask her why, why did she block someone who just wanted to help her out, and had positive feedback on her fic.

And the thing is, that in her profike she writes that she's open to criticism, and I did not criticize her!

And also, has she asked ne, I would've stopped commenting about it, and only commented about the fic itself. Maybe it hurt her feelings, but honestly, I think that I've commented about the errirs 4 tines, and most of my conment were about the fic, and why I thought about the characters, but onstead of trying ti talk, she blicked me, and now I cannot comment about what I thought about the chapters I've read fron the second part of the fic...

I'm so annoyed and hurt right now. Maybe I shouldn't try to help writers again...

[imorynn]

I’m gonna rant like stupid don’t mind me

It bothered you that you could never quite get your foot in the door. Whenever it opened and a wary eye appeared in the crack, it closed before the first blink.’

It’s so simple, but it carries so much weight?? I’m tweaking 😭😭 BUT it paints Joan so vividly while underscoring reader’s somewhat frustration and longing 💁‍♀️💁‍♀️

The dynamic between reader and Joan is evidently raw and layered with this tension that shifts between tenderness and frustration; Joan’s gruffness, her sharp edges, and the subtle cracks in her armor even if she tries to hide it —

Reader has me in shambles. You can FEEEEEL their yearning in every small gesture, every quiet thought; where Joan sucks the blood from their finger, or when they place their head in her lap, is so so freaking intimate but loaded with unspoken things?? Me personally, I felt it all coming ALIVEEE —

I’m FLOORED by how you balanced emotional depth with these quiet sensory moments that just stabbed in my chest and pierced my freaking heart —

You lived and you learnt with her, yet the amount of touch exchanged was as small as between strangers.

The ACHE exists, guys 😭😭😭 the longing for connection while Joan is constantly pushing away; JOAN, LET ME FUCKING LOVE YOU. PLEASE. And perhaps spit on me but in difference circumstances if you well —

I’m just a gay who enjoys my heart being messily sliced into two, then having the burn of angst rubbed on the scorching wounds. BUT. BUT. I ALSO don’t mind my heart being stitched together with part 2 depending on what you had in mind ( fluff, or Yk, somewhere along the lines ;-; ) unless. UNLESS, UNLESS, you know, you decide to take advantage of the open wounds and pour even MORE angst over them before STOMPING ON MY TORN ORGAN.

Yeah, well, either works. 💁‍♀️💁‍♀️

*clears throat* Anyways …

IN CONCLUSION, you’ve ruined me though I’m thankful for it, thank you very much, and you’ve managed to bring Joan Clayton to LIFE with your writing, and I’m expecting her to show up at my doorstep <33

🦇Ballentry Moor🦇

Joan Clayton x fem!reader

tags: Dark, Pining, Hurt No Comfort, very vaguely implied past assault, very subtext-heavy, Bathing/Washing, nonsexual nudity, Older Woman/Younger Woman, Unrequited Love?, Loneliness, lots of spit stuff for some reason?, SFW otherwise

summary: Once upon a time, Joan saved you and took you back to her cabin. You've been living with her ever since, and with time, you have developed feelings for her. The challenge is trying to make her understand that.

wc: ~ 2.5 k (Chapter 1/2)

*******************************************************

The fog never lifted from Ballentry Moor. A heavy blanket and smothering embrace at once, spreading gloom and offering refuge from witness' eyes. You had fallen victim to the moor, once upon a time, and lay in its murky soil, returned to and devoured by Mother Earth with vines slung around your wrists and ankles, until the swamp witch herself had cut you free.

You'd gone home with her, treading the same path you were following now in the muted indigo hues of twilight, back to her dilapidated brick house with a wicker basket full of mushrooms and roots on your arm. Stepping through the front door, the scent of vegetable broth boiling in the cauldron filled your nostrils. Joan stood next to it, with her back turned towards you, and stirred.

"Fortune smiled upon me today," you announced, heading straight to the kitchen table, where you set down your basket and began picking out mushrooms. "Harvest was good."

Joan acknowledged you with a hrmpf noise, as was her manner, and you returned your attention to the mushrooms, proceeding to wash them and taking out a chopping board and knife that could do with a sharpening. As you chopped them into slices and cubes, your gaze kept flitting to her, tossing basil into the cauldron, tasting from the iron ladle, pouring more salt into it as if it were not over-salted already.

"I feel it," she said, lifting her head and pausing her stirring.

"Hm?"

"You look at me with want."

The knife—suddenly forgotten about—escaped your control and cut into your finger instead of the mushroom. You hissed and dropped the knife with a loud clink, which prompted Joan to turn and size you up with a grim frown. Upon spotting the droplet of blood forming across the tip of your forefinger, she let the ladle fall into the cauldron and approached, grabbing your wrist to inspect the cut. You gasped when she took your finger into her mouth and sucked the blood off, then pushed your hand away, saying, "Paper cut. Cry, little babe."

You wiped your finger on your apron, cleaning her spit off it, in mild disbelief. The cut had already stopped bleeding. You finished chopping the mushrooms and took the cutting board to the cauldron, where Joan made space for you to scrape them into the broth. The steam wafted into your face and glazed it damp; your cheeks reddened too over the fire, but Joan's eyes on your movements had a similar effect.

"What is it you want, little mudbug?"

"Nothing of importance."

You avoided her eyes and left her proximity under the guise of putting the knife and cutting board away. Though the warmth behind your navel never ceased, neither did that in your cheeks. Joan hrmpf'ed again and tended to her broth.

-> continue on Ao3

[nerdyneko265]

In honour of the last dungeon meshi Thursday (I know it’s Wednesday, shut up)

Minecraft cooking!

Where I go through the mob bestiary and treat it like a cook book.

Chicken, cow, pig, goat, rabbit, horse, wolf, sheep, cat, cod, salmon, tropical fish, llama- you know what these are, you don’t need me to explain. Both Laios and I are bored, moving on.

Villagers, pillagers, piglins- don’t eat people. I know piglins are half pig but listen. DONT EAT PEOPLE! You know the orcs? This is the same thing.

All zombies ever- technically edible. We’ve all eaten rotten flesh. Senshi would not be proud of us, it’s not very nutritious. Also, cannibalism.

Skeletons- I guess you could make a soup stock. But they’re better for fertilizer.

Vex and allays- ghosts. I don’t think we can make sorbet here either. I don’t think they work like that.

Bats- very small, not much meat. Hard to find and catch. But if you’re in a cave and in a pinch or just curious, sure why not

Puffer fish- cook very carefully. Probably just better for potions. But you can eat puffer fish, your chef just needs to be trained in how to cook it.

Mooshroom- now we’re talking. Beef, but with mushrooms. Comes with mushroom soup too. Usually raised for soup rather than meat, but still a good source of meat that’s pre seasoned.

Squid- mmmmm calamari… Laios enemy… also good for squid ink. I hear it goes well with pasta.

Cave Spider- venomous, could technically remove the poison like with puffer fish and boil the spider but I dont know. Small but have spawners, so you’ve have a steady supply

Spider- not venomous, and bigger. So I guess you could. Probably taste like giant scorpion since they’re both arachnids.

*dont eat spider eyes, they’re poisonous

Endermen- for personal reasons, I will not be eating endermen. They don’t even want to fight unless you antagonize them. More importantly, don’t eat endermen, it’ll probably fuck you up. They’re built for the end and full of chorus fruit. They’re also so skinny, not much to eat there. Ender pearls have a chance of giving you a parasite. And will probably teleport your stomach out of your body. You could try but it’s probably like jerky and you’ll see god.

Incidentally, I think chorus fruit tastes like vanilla

Polar bear- probably very tough meat. Very gamey. Beware though, they eat people too

Iron golem- that’s a robot. Don’t eat metal. DONT EAT REDSTONE! ITS RADIO ACTIVE.

Snow golem- probably makes good ice cream. Don’t eat it. Let it make ice cream. It’s just snow after all. It would just taste like water.

Blaze- it’s more of a spirit than an animal. Good for potion making, probably not tasty. A central core surrounded by rods, maybe that core has some meat on it, probably tastes a little spicy.

Striders- why? Why would you eat these poor babies? What did they ever do to you? They’re probably reptiles, so you could definitely eat them but could you live with that knowledge?

Elder guardian- really old puffer fish. Cut carefully for good sushi. But it’s such a hassel, you’re better off having a puffer fish. Plus, they’re endangered, so like, come on.

Guardian- jokes on you, it’s hollow on the inside. Check the mob bestiary, they have no internal organs. Could probably get some meat from the outer flesh but that’s also the spikes, so beware.

Ender mite- remember those parasites from ender pearls? This is them. Could def cook them though. They’re fair sized and full on meat. You’re probably be tripping balls though.

Ghast- like a squid, but balloon. They are filled with gas, to allow them to fly. So much like a dragon, likely have a gas sac that could contain gases that could ignite, be careful. But sky octopus. Lots of meat.

Magma cube- slime but spicy. Magma cream is probably yummy. We know it’s ok to ingest because it’s in potions, so I think it should be ok to eat. Just wait got it to cool a little

Slime- senshi has recipes for these buggers.

Shulker- I can only assume it tastes like living armour. It’s definitely a mussel

Silverfish- it’s a bug, it’s big, enjoy.

Wither skeleton and the wither- please, for the love of all that is holy, DO NOT EAT THE WITHER! THIS IS HOW WE GET THE PLAGUE! YOURE GOING TO GET WITHERING AND DIE!

Sniffer- I know they’re really big, I know they’re probably full of meat and they have eggs, but look at their little faces. Could you really eat them?

The Ender dragon- I mean, you beat her, might as well I guess. Apparently dragon is delicious. But also, probably full of the end, probably going to fuck yup up a bit

And now, for the big one

Creeper- as we all know, creeper skin feels like dry, crunchy leaves. It’s a moss monster with a tnt block inside. So, if you carefully cut around the explosive, you now have a very dangerous vegetable. Thick “meat”, might make a good salad.

Thank you for coming to my ted talk

[clownboybebop]

if you’re ever in the position to choose between giving up and accepting defeat, and actually trying to fight the ancient unkillable god that is about to peel apart reality like a string cheese, remember this: scientifically speaking, you might as well give it a shot!

1.there were trees at the beginning of the world! there were trees so long ago that they predate bacteria that causes wood to decay. when a tree fell, it would lie there in stasis and there wasn’t any way of breaking down wood xylem on a molecular level in that way.

2. it seems obvious to say, but wood eating bacteria are literally incapable of comprehending what they’re breaking down. It’s just not information conciously available to a microorganism. they don’t know what they’re deconstructing, where it came from, bacteria have no way to even fathom the existence of a tree as a concept.

3. Regardless of the facts above, the world we live in today is a world where wood inevitably decomposes

it is worth fighting the unkillable god no matter how pointless it seems. it is worth taking the risk even though youre trying to accomplish something impossible. the reality in which you live was also once reality in which trees didn’t rot. You live in a reality that allows for existence before the possibility of destruction. you live in a reality where uncomprehending microbes break down matter that is so far beyond the scope of their comprehension that it feels comical to specify something so obvious. you live in a reality that occasionally allows unshakeable physical truths to be altered with no warning.

It is worth fighting the unkillable god because trees are so old they predate the source of their destruction, and it still did not spare them. It is worth fighting the unkillable god because bacteria rots unthinkingly, because there is room in our cosmos for destruction without comprehension on the part of the destroyer. It is worth fighting the unkillable god because now and then reality retracts the promise of immortality without fanfare, and when that happens there is no mercy for the ancient. the unmaking is not softer for the desecrators ignorance. for all things, existence is endless until the exact point where it ends.

so you might as well try to kill the unkillable god. it doesn’t seem likely, but at the beginning of the world, trees didn’t rot. so you never know! you never know

[xxplastic-cubexx]

Marvel's Squirrel Girl: The Unbeatable Radio Show! | All of Erik Lehnsherr's Call-In's

Episodes featured: The Fate of My Universe The Sinister Six Are No More Who Would Win In A Fight? Unbeatable

Full Podcast Playlist (Spotify)

Credits below:

Written by: Ryan North

Directed by: Giovanna Sardelli

Voice Cast: Milana Vayntrub - Squirrel Girl/Doreen Green Crystal Lucas Perry - Nancy Whitehead Leo Sheng - Koi Boi/Ken Shiga Davied Morales - Chipmunk Hunk/Tomas Lara-Perez Erica Schroeder - Tippy T. Squirrel Rob Nagle - Erik Lehnsherr

Key Art: "Squirrel Girl Infinity Comic (2022)" by Derek Charm - Doreen, Nancy, Ken, Tomas, Tippy "Magneto (2023)" by Todd Nauck - Erik

[femmeleatherface]

update: i finished the second doctor's run and all the three stooges shorts in the same week because the timing was just that impeccable. i AM still thinking about this and have more coherent (but also even more incoherent) thoughts now

in the "three stooges wind up in a doctor who scenario" flip-flop:

i believe even more strongly that it would be best that it's ww2-era stooges and they wind up in a dalek storyline, if only in deference to the stooges being the first to have their explicitly anti-nazi film sneak past censors to theaters. you've got so many parallels between that era and classic who: saving the day from genocidal fascists who want you dead... way way wayyyy too much yellowface oh my god...

setup isn't really necessary but if we must then it starts as a nice ordinary productive day for the stooges being terrible at being nice ordinary productive members of society. and then a mad scientist with a guy in a shittyass gorilla suit in a cage mad sciences them away to the doctor who universe

dr. howard, dr. fine, dr. howard are our wonderful and terrible heroes. who is THE doctor, though? depends on who you ask…

instead of dressing up and mocking fascists, the stooges have to climb into a dalek body to dress up and mock them, and it very much just becomes this:

the daleks are absolutely the straight men in this scenario and baffled by the lack of logic in everything's that happening. if they had hair they would be pulling it. hell, maybe one dalek has a bad toupee and pulls it just for the sight gag. idk

a dalek starts giving a monologue about how superior and amazing they are and the stooges tell it to shut up, poke it in the eyepiece, and shoves it down the stairs. the episode then ends with the stooges making their own monologue about how great and amazing america is. it is unclear how self-aware this is meant to be

this may or may not become a retelling of "the evil of the daleks," except they wind up with the stooges for their human factor tests and everything goes absolutely haywire because the three stooges are the WORST humans you could pick for this. maybe they were in league with the mad scientist with the shittyass gorilla suit man

needless to say, the human factor, once extracted, results in the daleks acting... honestly probably just as goofy as they act in the OG episode (choo-choo!)

that said a dalek DOES hold a pie with its toilet plunger arm and it DOES get thrown in someone's face in climactic pie fight. why would you think this would not happen. is this because of the stooges' human factor? or has this dalek simply succumbed to the madness? no clue. civil war definitely still happens though

curly regenerates into shemp regenerates into joe. or, bonus points: shemp regenerates into curly regenerates back into shemp regenerates into fake shemp and then regenerates into joe

meanwhile, in the "doctor and co. wind up in a three stooges scenario" flop-flip:

i'm torn between having this be a retelling of a doctor who episode that just happens to be in a three stooges logic universe, or just plop them in one of the stooges' 1950s sci-fi shorts. or being its own thing but that requires too much brainpower for what is ultimately a very long shitpost

"enemy of the world" would be great for the first route, the moe/hitler comparison is right there. but "outer space jitters" would be a fun one for the second route. landing on a planet where the inhabitants are planning to use cavemen zombies to conquer earth feels very much like it should be a doctor who episode already

jamie and zoe are the companions. jamie because OF COURSE and zoe because her mathematical brain cannot comprehend what's happening and she must use the events of the episode to learn about the rule of funny and how it trumps all known scientific law

but also if victoria WERE there, could she please beat the snot out of some guy while ranting about how horrible he is for picking on a poor, helpless, defenseless woman? it feels like something that needs to happen

the episode opens with the doctor and co checking things out on the viewscreen, and they are shocked that there is a literal caption on the image: "planet moronika: where the men are men and the women are glad of it." this is their first clue they have wound up in some weird universe

the second clue is them being struck by urges to poke each other in the eyes and knock each other's heads together and all-around smack each other around and this for some reason NOT resulting in constant incapacitation and merely temporary annoyance is

third clue that finally allows them to put the pieces together is them enduring some slasher movie level violence that SHOULD have killed them, but teehee haha, they have slapstick comedians' superpowers of walking off things like houses falling on them

(also this is a lost episode and these moments of violence are the only extant parts because they were removed by censors in other countries <333)

men whistling at zoe (in her flashy sequin suit) and any other female characters is really weird and confusing for the tardis crew because, i mean. this is old school doctor who. nobody's allowed to do anything more scandalous than chastely hug each other with all their clothes (and multiple extra layers) firmly on

meanwhile, totally unrelatedly, the following exchange definitely happens:

jamie and the doctor: [kiss ""accidentally""] jamie: "ack! i've been poisoned!" [smack] the doctor: 🙄

also the trio definitely do the "heads stacked while poking around a corner" gag that they already do in a couple real doctor who episodes, but i unfortunately can't remember which ones specifically for imaging purposes so enjoy this three stooges publicity photo to demonstrate:

zoe and the doctor get a mad scientist moment. unfortunately, they put too much yeast in the mad science. it does not end well

jamie encounters the scottish stereotypes of the stooge shorts "the hot scots" and "scotched in scotland." hijinks ensue

footage is blatantly reused from previously episodes--and not just brief clips but whole scenes, even gags from previous installments in this very serial. the characters realize they are in some horrible timeloop. for reasons. oh no!!!

someone is fake shemped and it is REALLY obvious. like if frazer hines being replaced for one episode was not integrated into the story and just happened completely out of nowhere with zero explanation. the doctor is the only one that can't tell when he's talking to a fake shemp due due to faceblindness

the doctor, zoe, and jamie spend the night in a triple bunk bed with no ladder. there are of course hijinks and it does of course end in the doctor being squashed beneath three mattresses and a bajillion planks of wood

the doctor and co crawl back to the tardis at the end of the episode just completely filthy, covered in dust and food and ink and eggs and also clutching a single extremely delicious-looking pie they saved from the slaughter. they try to escape to go somewhere where they can eat the pie in peace, but oh no! the stoogiverse won't let them go! but why? zoe realizes: the rule of funny must be satisfied. with great reluctance, she shoves the pie in the doctor or jamie's faces. the tardis finally leaves. the end

so i'm watching old three stooges shorts during the intervals in my doctor who watch where i have to track down/listen to audio reconstructions of lost episodes. it's been taking a while because audio dramas do not agree with my brain At All, but at last i'm up to the second doctor now!

and i don't know about anyone else, but when i was a little kid i remember thinking that the second doctor and moe howard were the same guy. they're not, obviously, but even as an adult whenever i see either of them it trips me up for a second. and needless to say i have been getting tripped up a LOT lately as i wade my way through season 4 doctor who recons.

it's definitely the hair above all else. maybe also the faces and mannerisms.

anyway... totally unrelated but i now really need one of the following:

the three stooges--comprised of dr. howard, dr. fine, and dr. howard, naturally--wind up in a doctor who scenario and must save whatever nosy situation they have found themselves in. considering their wartime shorts and adventures in moronika, i think it would be delightful to see them go up against the daleks and save the day as schmaltzily and cartoonishly as possible while everyone else plays it straight and is so confused by these demented nyuk-nyukers.

the second doctor and his companions wind up in a space/time that operates on three stooges logic. shenanigans ensue. i'm unfortunately not far enough into the second doctor to have ideas for the shenanigans, but if anyone else does feel free to share! rules are only that there must be outlandish slapstick violence to make the bbc quiver in its boots.