#have a stupendous day <3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[pushing500]

Something in me hopes that Jordan stays for just a little longer. Dunno why, just a feeling.

Unfortunately, Mechi is far too reclusive to grant permanent residence to anybody who isn't his immediate family or an android he builds with his own two hands.

Don't worry, though. The gang at Arwell are going to take excellent care of each other, and that includes Jordan. They're going to be just fine. <3

[brittlebutch]

it's actually so fascinating to me that Brennan has created a character that maintains a pretty relaxed and mild-mannered demeanor and has said multiple times that the absolute Core of her is "FEAR" and how often we see this Fear manifest specifically in Avoidance; it really nails a relationship to that mentality where your brain fully Stops recognizing the emotion properly out of like, sheer self-defense from the stress of having to carry it all the time

I think this is also perfectly showcased in the way we tend to see Tula swing so suddenly from 'level and steady' to 'snarling Panic' and then back again - Just because your brain has detached itself from the Conscious Recognition of the emotion doesn't mean it can Actually stop itself from experiencing it. So the Fear is always there and always acting as a stressor, but because of that inability to Identify it there's no way to recognize or address it before that final straw hits and your bodymind jumps Straight into Full Meltdown Mode; but then once again, once you drop even a Little bit below that Peak Terror your brain ceases to process the emotion; it's like the most exhausting form of Poor Object Permanence in the world

And even if Tula is aware of this happening to her, that doesn't really make it any easier to deal with / address. Even if you're able to spot the symptoms Around the emotion -- chest pain, irritation, nausea, whatever -- because the Emotion Itself is basically impossible to find, you can't really Successfully Pin Down what the problem is OR a way to cope with it. If you can't figure out That You Are Anxious, then figuring out What Is Making You Anxious is impossible, which makes Find A Way To Make Peace With That incomprehensible. That's where the Avoidance comes in: you can no longer identify what might be a Dangerous Situation, which means that Anything New has a big potential to be Really Bad in a variety of ways (ranging "I don't Feel Good" to "Fully Lashing Out bc you've entered Fight/Flight and can't get out of it" to "Actual Outside Danger This Time") and that means the Only Way you know how to be Safe is to just Avoid Doing Anything New and Only stick to Familiar Situations, because anything unfamiliar is a monster of a gamble you don't know how to prepare for or cope with

[ladythornofrivia]

The Devil’s Tongue (pt. 3)

a/n: i’m alive! i have been busy for the past few months and have been struggling with my health, but i’m doing okay. i’m here. i never forget about you guys. here’s part 3 of the devil’s tongue. hope you enjoy. i kinda forgot how to use tumblr for a second, but it’s all coming back to me. 💚

warnings: smut, heavy implied smut, dirty talk, horny reader, nerdy michael stalking, profanity

Another set of roses.

This was the second week of full package right outside of your doorstep at the dorm, brick television blasted through the walls, and those who live nearby could hear it.

“Who the fuck delivered this shit?” you asked aloud, ludicrous.

You were hoping for new packages of big dildos. But who the hell delivered flowers at night while you’re deeply focused on finishing a boss battle on a Kingdom Hearts game?

Obviously somebody annoying, you assumed, but it comes with a certain consequences and package.

Since you garnered more attention from males audience, you have received more than $1000, each day before classes, and nights before going to sleep, less stressed, less fucked out.

Lets still sore, and your pussy getting pounded by a plastic dick helps to forget the idiotic moments from a guy who won’t stop pursuing your pussy.

Up until now, you still didn’t know who kept sending you flowers—gets larger and more obnoxious. Moreover, having alongside of candies in the packages. Each time it gets bigger.

Annoyance.

As soon as you looked into your messy room, you’re fucked. There’s no way, a college staff would allow childish presents and compliments. Although once you did give it away by pretending to send package to someone’s door, but magically ended up at your doorstep.

More annoyance.

Oh, it’s getting worse, although you haven’t seen the worst yet.

You hated roses, but you love the color and its fragrance, so preserving one would suffice and threw the rest into the trash—attraction of flies and other infested bugs. Though roses weren’t wasted if distribute to some lonesome women who yearn romance with their inner Shakespeare, or those who are fond of things that wither too soon for a perfect Edgar Allen Poe quote to go alongside it.

Either too romantic or too gothic would suffice—perfect in a sense they’re almost the same, but different font.

The first day you arrived in college—in England—it was stupendous. Away from folks, from cultish family and liars you once called “friends”. Crisp air and crisp sips of tea and munching scones and a full English breakfast and cup of excellent tea you’ve heard so much, from the vast side of the other world—with a profound lack of research, and a town stuck in their own ways.

When traveling, the possibilities are endless. And to unpack and trash all things annoying, family and even old friends.

Friends…

Pfft!

Friends are such a stupid thing of annoyance such as hope to cling hope. “Friends” can only lead to disappointment and betrayal, so why keep them, they’re just baggage needs to be dumped. And who needs friends when you have a large attraction of male audience and big time cash deposited into your fat bank account? And what better way to end interactions than focusing on how to finish junk food in less than 1 minute?

Money wins in the end.

Money prevailed and endured—an ongoing reward for self-pleasure.

Money buys happiness.

Always.

And food. But both were just as good as previous. Stacked on goods and snacks for a late night somber mood would do a trick.

Except it wasn’t.

Junk food has been forgotten when the flowers and a box package of your favorite candies and chocolate decided to show up on this very hour. There was no name, no phone number, no signature. Not even a compliment was showing.

“Who the fuck sent these during my gaming hour?” you asked yourself, guessing. Probably that no good piece of shit you hung out with last time. And with a small grunt, you picked it up and slammed—locking—the door, thinking about buying a sign of “no soliciting/tresspassing” from an online store.

“Ah. Better than nothing,” you added, appeased as you were closing the front door.

Thank god.

~~~

Numbing cheeks stretched to a giant yawn during a productive hour was the worst thing ever occured after the video game night. Couldn’t stop rethinking of last night’s gift from a secret admirer.

Trying to come up with conclusions on who sent numerous gifts by your door. Could it be the recent guy you dumped or was it an ex friend? An ex-friend wouldn’t do this. They’d automatically give you an intense cold-shoulder and fuck you stare on their eyes and spread false gossip about you behind your back.

Unless if it’s an ex-boyfriend you have back in America. But boys in America lack romantic aspects.

Unless if it’s a family member, or members, then they’re sick fucks in the head that needs to be douse in gasoline and set them alight on fire.

Hence why your mind was running. And it didn’t help. Hence why you came and moved into England. Starting fresh without bringing the mentions past scars would be the best course of action.

Nothing is simple, nothing is easy, but traveling far is duo-able.

After a long session on studying Italian culture and a long-dead language Latin, it has been quite some time since the cultish collection of flowers kept you occupied. You haven’t found a way to make a use of the flowers yet.

Hand tucked under your chin as you sighed, unfocused and relented at your current studies, unaware a lean hand distributed a chocolate crunchy bar.

Gazing upwards, there you saw none other than Michael Gavey.

Michael, Michael…

Michael.

The cute nerd you wanted to see.

To fuck his glasses out of his aquiline nose bridge, squeezing at the back of his head while riding your drenched cunt against his face. The boy—the nerdy college boy—to moan equations under your grasp, showered him with your squirt like how your dreams went.

Your recent dreams have been wet.

Frequently wet.

From the innocent acts until escalated to frequent fucking in college’s library to the college class, to the kitchen counter in the dorms, then the bed, once cold now warm with squirt and jizz. Fun and erotic sights to see in your dreams and yearn for an experiment and watch the outcome resolve itself.

Up until now, the roses had come up subconsciously, an urge to unveil the mystery.

“Michael…” you uttered low, trying to maintain eye contact as possible without the possibility of crushing over someone who is a weirdo who loves math equations.

“You look exhausted,” he assumed.

But he assumed wrong.

“I was up. I was up all night,” you managed to say.

“Studying, I assume.”

“Playing video games,” you said. “I can’t stand quietness around the dorm. Makes me feel isolated.”

He hummed.

“I figured you wanted a krunchy,” Michael said, one of the little corners of his lips turned upward, seeing your eyes twinkled at the chocolate.

“I—I do,” you stuttered. “I love chocolate, especially with juicy jizz—glaze! Glaze! I just love glaze! Especially with donuts with nice glaze with nice ultimately sweet goopy filling on the center inside!”

Stomach coiled in embarrassment that you might as well tuck yourself to shame somewhere no one finds you on this earth.

You sighed, as Michael quirked his brow, unreachable but slightly—ever so more—confused. Even with shut eyes, the glint brightness of his nerdy glasses were glaring at you.

Daring to look at his long glance, your shoulders tensed. “Sorry, I had something on my mind since yesterday. It got me busy,” you explained, sighing, thinking of the afterthoughts of what to do with the flowers. Still useless of decorating, still useless with charitable case of donation. “I didn’t have coffee this morning.”

Knowing that in England, people prefer nice plain organic tea and biscuits or scones.

Distracted, the heat on your cheeks arise.

“Quite a little spectical, I’ll give you that,” Michael said with a dry chuckle, as your legs crossed, one foot making little kicks while Michael came and sat down beside you, almost with disinterested, but a peak of intrigued, hopefully not with a daunting comment.

Hoping he doesn’t know what jizz is. Better yet, a whole language of slang from the west.

For days you have been searching videos at the porn website. Masturbating over the spare time became quite useful for someone who’s randomly horny as you. Day or night.

Horny and desperate from wanting to touch you, but the moment some guy touches you, you instantly kicked him to the boot—nothing more.

They say every guy’s hands are experienced. But what experienced does a guy have other than being insensitive and dull and careless?

They offer nothing to the table, offered no speciality that could qualify or overreached your expectations. Every boy are dull, dull after dull. Nothing is exceptional.

Unless…

Michael’s red sweater kept you more occupied with a rather distinct distraction. It was a nice shade of rich red. A burgundy. Reminded you of the vibrant roses from previous nights.

Nearly groaned at the sight of his top, your legs crossed and clenched tighter. Lips bruised from your teeth clutching, no gash leaking over your lush red lips, as eyes wandered and admiringly over a single spectate.

He looked good in red. For a good, weird nerd.

I wonder if I bruise him good, too.

A good nerd. A weird nerd. Obsessed about equations and numbers.

I bet I could make him cuss out during sex. Moaning in numbers and letters while bucking yourself against does seem tempting. Not a typical guy who touches women, but does the lusty temptation escalated.

But he’s so stubborn.

Red scars and red bruises.

Red tears, maybe.

You fear as if your invisible red horns were sprouting on your head. Not that you dislike red horns. You fear someone might see it. In shadows, in daylight. You like to think yourself as a perverted, moody devil who’s in for a good long fuck. Except you haven’t had a proper date on a long run.

“There’s a Halloween party coming up soon,” Michael’s voice barged into your occupied thoughts. “Have you been looking into that?”

“Um, no,” you said stiffly.

“But I have. Apparently, only those who are qualified enough to go to party. As if I’m going with those looosersss.”

But you knew he’s been longing on being a cool kid but doesn’t know how.

Shoulder shrugged. “I don’t care much about the party. Not really my style.”

“I thought you’d go.”

“What makes you say that?”

He stared over your shoulder, and the indication is clear. Both Felix Catton and his cousin—what’s his face? You didn’t know.

“I saw them speaking to you in the morning.” Michael’s lips pouted.

Cute as fuck.

“Who? Them?” you scoffed. “I don’t know those fuckers. They just came up to me and I thought they’re trying to sell drugs or something.”

“But they were inviting you,” he persisted.

“So? I don’t care much the party life. If I actually want to go, I would’ve said yes and would fuck them in some way. But then again, I did say I’m going to think about it, just to make them back off. Especially that weirdo cousin.”

Michael’s brows tucked. “Fuck?”

Fuck. Wrong phrase.

“Anyway, it’s not my business…I have other plans to go for. Just not in the mood with parties for now. Unless….you’re going?”

Michael scoffed, taking out his math textbook and notebook.

“Guess not.” You went back to concentrate on your unfinished homework.

“What happened to your boyfriend, by the way?”

You shot at him with a dirty look. “Wait, that ugly fuck? I don’t care much about the dude.”

Talking about exes is a no-no, on a girl’s standard and rule when talking to the opposite sex. Especially when the said opposite you found oddly attractive with equation.

After shoving you out of the elevator, a dealbreaker has set in and decided to break things off as if you consider the guy exist.

You don’t even recall his name.

Michael’s relaxed hand recoiled to a fist. It was subtle.

Your eyes softened. “So…I do need help with something. Something that I’m having a hard time with, and I need some assistance with sums. Does that ring any bell?”

Michael smirked, his fist hasn’t uncoiled. “Math.”

You flashed a wink at him. “So, are you going to help a damsel in distress, or are you going to sit there and be emo?”

Michael’s eyes flickered. “Emo?”

Thank god he doesn’t know the slangs. He’s cute. I can feel my red horns are growing.

“Just help a poor girl out, please? With a red cherry on top?”

My cherry was dying to get out. I want Michael to pop my cherry.

Michael hummed, watching you. “Listen carefully, (Y/N). I’m not a patient man.”

“I can take the pain. Whatever you give me,” you said, winking.

Thank god Michael is oblivious to my pervy statement.

Michael hummed again. “The sooner we do this the better.”

You nodded and get the math textbook, but you knew it wasn’t enough, so you’re planning on gathering textbooks. But Michael is already a walking math textbook. Maybe he would explain things better.

“You’re nails. They’re red,” he said.

Your heart palpitated. “You like them?”

Michael hummed.

You wanted to tackle and jump on his face with your wet cunt.

Despite the randomness crossing your mind, you took it as a yes.

Dear Diary,

I want to shove my fingers in his mouth as I bounce on his cock.

~~~

It’s been hours since Michael taught you with math problems, including xyz and triangular shapes and parentheses. As much as you despise the numbers and the math’s creator, you watched Michael’s lips formed in soft curls and once in a while his tongue peaked out.

I want him to lick my hot, wet pussy.

Make this perverted girl happy.

Lick my wet cherry.

Not long before, the library is almost empty. And thus, the conclusion of tutoring session is over. So you devised a plan.

“Instead here, why don’t you go at my dorm? You know, we could study there. The library is too echoey and I hate it when my voices gets suddenly too loud. How does that sound?

You swore you saw Michael’s eyes suddenly glinted, like a pouted cat turned mischievous, almost naughty. But in plain sight.

Without Michael saying anything, you said, “Great. I’ll see you there. Don’t forget your smart pants when you meet at my dorm.”

~~~

Michael’s plan came into a fruition. He knew that offering for a tutoring session could get closer to you. With that annoying boy-toy you used to hookup with has been nagging in. As he knocked on your door, you opened, revealing your bright smile and welcoming, realizing she kept all the flowers he gave you, hoping you enjoy the gift.

His heart skipped a beat.

The closer to you, the more chances to get a glimpse of your personal life. The more he’ll see the true you.

His heart skipped a beat.

As for the boy you casually hook up with, hopefully no one finds his body.

Taglist: @remuslupinwife1 @kittendoll05 @xcharlottemikaelsonx @paninisstuff @angeljcca @marvelescvpe @heavenly1927 @snh96 @httpsmenace @domithebomi @moonseye @faesspace @liannafae @buccini555 @watercolorskyy @taangie @qardasngan @jolixtreesunn @screaming-potato @dixie-elocin @momowhoo @saturnssrings @dani5216 @blackgaladriel @theboleyngirlx @elaratyrell @fun-loving-peach @jmliebert @ilikechocolatemilkh @20thcentwriter @sepherinaspoppies @venmondiese @snowprincesa1 @witchy-v1xen @1800-fight-me @fan-goddess @persephonerinyes @anukulee @justablondeee @viktoriaashleyyx @lcolumbia1988 @ilikemintpeassss-blog @arcielee @hippiedippiekitty @bellaisasleep @lokiofasgard12 @barnes70stark @vipervixxen @f1girlieee @namelesslosers @darylandbethfanforever9

[thrillered]

'You Know I Mountain Dew It For Ya" | Spencer Agnewx F!Reader | Pt. 3: You blew up.

I hope you guys like this part! I struck inspiration.

-

-

-

-

You chose to ignore your phone the next morning, putting on do not disturb and opting to put on a record while you got ready and popping in a CD on the way to work. You walked into the office, putting on a smile as you greeted people on your way to the kitchen to get a coffee.

 Normally you were one of the first people in the office, making a large pot of coffee so that it was hot and ready for your coworkers. Today, however, you didn’t have a morning meeting or shoot block so you didn’t have to come in until 11. It was a little ritual you had begun the year prior. On days where you didn’t have to be in early you would stay offline until absolutely needed. It was a welcome break from your constant social presence. 

Your morning had been so peaceful, little did you know that online, things were very different. Your song blew up on both tiktok and twitter. You had amassed more than 500,000 streams just the first night. 

You were walking to your desk, iced coffee in hand when someone grabbed it from your hand, placing it on the nearest surface. Before you could blink you were swinging around, being lifted by strong arms, in a suffocating hug, a squeal escaping your lips. You recognized who it was almost instantaneously, the familiar scent of amber and citrus embracing you.

“Well good morning to you too” You laughed to Spencer as he set you down. 

“Good morning? Just good? It’s a fantastic morning! Nay! A Stupendous morning!”

“Okay wow, this is some positivity,” You laughed, “What’s got you so bright eyed and bushy tailed?”

“Are you absolutely serious Y/N?” He raised his eyebrows so high you could imagine them flying right off his forehead. “Have you not looked at literally anything this morning?” 

“No, I never do on late mornings, you know that Spence.” 

“Oh my god, you’re ridiculous,” He began, pulling out his phone, “Look at this Y/N, this is insane.” 

You looked at his screen, becoming suddenly dizzy at the words in front of you. 567 thousand streams of Espresso. You stared, swallowing thickly before emitting a loud “What the fuck?!” 

“You’re also trending on twitter and tiktok!” Spencer continued, your mind still not believing the number you had read. “Dude, you might have been famous for smosh but.. Now you're just famous, like really famous.” 

It was like the most intense high of your life. You had never had a song blow up like this, god, you had never had a song do even a 10th as good as this. You were sitting on cloud nine, this is what nirvana must feel like you thought. 

Then your stomach sank. If there were maybe 100 comments about Spencer last night, there had to be thousands now… 

You may have fucked up. On one hand your music career might take off like you’ve always dreamed! On the other hand you’re gonna have to discuss this with Spencer and that means confronting your own feelings which is not ideal.

“I need to use the bathroom.” You muttered before running off to the single bathroom, leaving Spencer more confused than he’s ever been, and that’s saying something.

 Shutting and locking the door behind you, you took a long deep breath. You leaned against the door and unlocked your phone, turning off the do not disturb to a bombardment of notifications. Friends, family, fans, everyone was texting, tagging, and tweeting you. You were overjoyed at the love your song was receiving. People were tagging you in the most loving reviews and giving the highest appreciation for the song. 

You were just scrolling, reading tweet after tweet in the “Espresso” and “Y/N from Smosh” Tag. you retweeted a post from a smosh fan account saying “I know Y/N from smosh. You know Y/N from Espresso… we are not the same”. You laughed before switching to tik tok and going through some of your notifications. You would never be able to see every video, there were just too many. You were totally engrossed, the real world fading away. Until a loud knock startled you out of your trance.

“Y/N I don’t know if you're having a crisis or what but I need to pee and you have a shoot.” Amanda’s voice yelled through the door. 

You unlocked and opened the door, seeing that half an hour had gone by. “I am so sorry Amanda, I don’t know how I spent so much time in there.” You laughed.

“You’re good honey,” She laughed, walking past you into the bathroom, “Oh and huge congrats on the song, that’s really cool, we’re all really proud of you.” 

You gave her a sweet smile before rushing to the sound stage. You were doing an episode of reddit stories with Shayne and Spencer, this week's theme was missing, it featured stories about missed connections, missed chances, and missed hints. 

“You okay?” Shayne asked as you walked into the set, heading over to get your mic. 

“Yeah of course, just got a little overwhelmed is all.” you smiled. 

“I can understand that, there’s a lot of attention on you right now, but it looks like a lot of love so that’s good,” He began, soothing your nerves, “Plus right now you get to hear about some idiots with your two favorite idiots.” he laughed. 

“Yeah, you're right, thank you Shayne.” You laughed with him.

“We’re all really proud of you though Y/N” Shayne finished, pulling you into a comforting hug. “Alright let’s get this shit going.” 

The stories were crazy, as always. Though, it was almost hard to focus on what Shayne was saying with Spencer so close. Your realization that you would have to confront your own feelings made it feel almost suffocating to be so close but so casual with him. You thought that if you got too close he would be able to feel your heartbeat or read your mind. You focused on channeling your professionalism and got through the video smoothly, you just hoped it didn’t look weird on camera. 

–

You kind of wanted to avoid Spencer. Your feelings were weird and they were strong, you weren’t sure what to do. Unfortunately you were supposed to be doing a livestream for the games channel at 3 pm and Spencer would, of course, be there. You and Courtney were supposed to play the Sims4. You were gonna be making your sim and dressing her before adding her to the smosh save. 

You and Courtney were sitting at the desk, chatting as you fixed your hair while waiting for the stream to start. Focused on your conversation with Court about how excited she was to show you the sim she had made of you, you hadn’t noticed the chat on the ‘stream starting soon’ screen. 

Everyone was talking about Espresso. Talking about how good it is, how it’s stuck in their heads, asking if there's gonna be a music video, asking for a comment on the ‘Spenspresso’ (as twitter so kindly named) allegations, etc. 

Soon enough Alex let you know your mics were being turned on and the stream was starting.

“Oh my goodness, are we live??” You asked, now glancing at the chat, turning immediately a deep shade of red. “Oh god” 

Courtney immediately realized what you were seeing and tried to change the subject of the chat by introducing the stream and talking about how you were gonna be put into the sims world. It did very little to stop the constant talk about your song. 

Spencer showed you a note from off camera, “You should just talk about it a little.” It read. You nodded before speaking. “Okay let’s address the elephant in the room… I’m wearing my hair differently” You joked, making the room laugh. “No actually, okay, thank you guys for all the love on Espresso, It’s actually so nutty how much you guys like it. However! I will be doing a live stream on my instagram to talk about it sometime today or tomorrow! So, hold your questions! Now let's sims!” You exclaimed.

That seemed to do the trick. The chat mostly switched to talking about the stream, and if the comment was about your music it was relevant to designing your character. 

Courtney did a really good job, the sim looked so much like you, almost unnervingly so. You guys had so much fun trying to style your sim, compromising with the chat by making your party outfit popstar inspired. You added your sim to the world, asking the chat what you should do.

“Spencer’s already with Shayne, they literally have a kid, Y/N can’t get with him, duh!” Courtney said, responding to a comment suggesting making you flirt with Spencer. 

A “Damn it!” could be heard off camera, Spencer nudging your foot with his own as he said it. You both joked about the ship of you two. Yet, you couldn’t help but blush and wish that he truly meant it though. His words didn’t go unnoticed by the chat either, opening a whole new can of worms.

The rest of the stream went by much smoother than you expected. You only realized you had promised an instagram live after the stream had ended. This meant you would have to say something about the Spenspresso conspiracies, and how they might not be conspiracies afterall. You would do it tomorrow, you decided. You already had a half day planned tomorrow for an appointment so it gave you time to do it anyway. 

You only had the stream left for the day so you went back to your desk once it ended, packing up your stuff in preparation to leave. 

“You heading out?” Spencer asked, walking over to you, his laptop tucked under his arm. 

“Yep, I’m done for the day.” You explained curtly, hoping to get out of a conversation and home before you word vomited a love confession. Hoping he was satisfied with your answer, you sidestepped him, throwing your bag over your shoulder before muttering a “See ya later Spencer” before swiftly walking to the exit, not stopping to say goodbye to anyone. Which was very unlike you. You were such a sociable person, you always said hello and goodbye to most of the office every day, it was something Spencer liked about you. He enjoyed your extroverted nature, it helped him to be more outgoing. 

He knew there was something wrong. You always give Spencer a hug goodbye, even if he was going to be meeting you at your house in 20 minutes. You barely spoke a word to him all day unless necessary. Not to mention you running away and shutting up in the bathroom this morning. He wondered if he did something to upset you but he couldn’t think of anything. You were together the night prior and were celebrating so he couldn’t imagine he did anything wrong. 

But he was determined to figure it out.

[aurora-313]

Heyyy,

I've tried and tried again to find the bright side of the ending and the Canon couples but I just can't. I don't even like the kids and thier designs are lacking. On top of that, I'm also dreading the day we get to see them in the anime🤦‍♀️

I've given up on the anime. It's glorified fanfiction, and honestly, nothing Kubo can do can really salvage it. Short of ripping Bleach apart from the very first arc and rebuilding it from scratch.

Franky the thing that I fail to comprehend is how Bleach went from "Monster of the week", where the monsters were fundamentally human in their hatred, desires, miseries and pains, to "let's kill/overthrow God and destroy reality".

Implausibly massive leap for a world that only consists of 3 towns and an empty void, wouldn't you say?

The dissonance is so jarring that it breaks suspension of disbelief. The cardinal sin of storytelling. That's why I don't enjoy TYBW. That's why the epilogue and the hell arcs make no impression on me.

A damning indictment of TYBW's quality as an arc is how forgettable it is. Remove it from the story entirely, and absolutely nothing would change.

There's a cult following in the west, sure, but that's all it has. Manga sales during TYBW tanked in Japan. Viewing figures in japan are in the toilet. The only thing keeping it afloat are diehard groupies who are easily distracted by shiny lights and crappy effects to hide how poorly composed it is.

The arc was utterly forgotten until the 2020 trailer dropped.

The storytelling is jank AF and the main villains are forgettable crybabies.

It's funny. By and large, I feel more emotional connection to three relative scrub Hollows from the shinigami sub arc, characters that only had a dozen chapters between them and viscerally hate them for how human their sadism is, but my eyes glaze over at the Sternritters. I barely remember any of their names.

The Quincy are boring. Yhwach is boring. There was an opportunity to salvage him by playing into the manga evidence he was a grifter who conquered, cursed, enslaved, and ate his way into power... but no. They replaced that with basic bitch daddy issues.

Then, there's artificially inflating Chad and Orihime's importance. The problem is that they're pathetically powerless humans by comparison.

Observe their first encounter with Quilge. Weak in the grand scheme of things, Quilge was casually stripping chunks of flesh off them. Compared to the feats the other Sternritters pull off, what can Chad and Orihime really do? Realistically. What CAN they do? The answer is nothing and worse than nothing.

Chad and Orihime, civilians who use reishi-based attacks, against an army whose been training for years-to-centuries, who dominate reishi as easily as breathing. No amount of training can change the fact they're a stupendously bad match-up against the Quincy. They realised their presence is pouring oil on a fire and thought the solution was to pour even MORE oil on the fire.

Tbqh. Ichigo should've put his foot down and told them to leave with Riruka and Yukio. Chad and Orihime simply cannot keep up with Ichigo anymore. Ichigo had left them completely in the dirt after Soul Society, and the rest of the series is Chad and Orihime in denial about that.

Why does Ichigo have to go through this exhaustive humiliation of a character arc, thanks to his elders leaving him to stew in ignorance, while Chad and Orihime got a free pass? And are ultimately rewarded for living in denial.

Want them to grow? Have them confront and accept Ichigo simply doesn't need them anymore. Have them accept their place isn't on his battlefield but protecting their mutual home. Have them accept they are mortals tangling with gods and demons, and they are in way over their heads.

The only plausible reason Ichigo DOES keep them around is cannon fodder.

As for the endgame ships; I don't want to talk about them, except that Ichigo should have categorically refused to have children on principle. After the shit his heritage put him through, why would Ichigo subject another child to that?

[neverwinternighting]

30 days of Nevervember!

It’s November very soon and I was thinking about posting a list of NWN/NWN2-centric general prompts for each day in November! (Get it? Neverwinter + November? Never-vember?) It’s tricky to figure out since not everyone has played both of the games and all the campaigns in them, so something more general you could choose from to create seemed like the best idea.

You can write the prompt. You can draw the prompt. You can do a combination of both. Comics? Hell yeah. Everything is welcome!

If you decide to do these, please feel free to tag me in each one you do so that I can give you reblogs.

This challenge is not in the least bit binding and it is by no means an obligation or a contest - you can do few, you can do all, you can even do only one if you want. It’s entirely up to you!

Prompts listed below (take artistic license in interpretation if you need):

Day 1: your hero's home in their childhood days

Day 2: Your character meeting your (personal) favorite party member for the first time

Day 3: Your character meeting your (personal) LEAST favorite party member for the first time

Day 4: Your character and chosen party members lounging about at camp or in a tavern

Day 5: An embarrassing situation during an adventure

Day 6: your character's final (or most recent) positive memory from their childhood home

Day 7: Meanwhile, in ____... (this is your chance to write/draw the "other side" or the "b-plot" while your character is off doing something else!)

Day 8: The most impactful event your character went through

Day 9: A party member finding a way to cheer up your character

Day 10: The moment your character formed a (romantic OR friendship) crush

Day 11: Something little-known about your character revealed

Day 12: Your character or a party member is caught red-handed! (By whoever you like, doing anything)

Day 13: Your character saying something they end up regretting later during an argument

Day 14: Your character in a lesser-known location in the games (because some of those places need a little more love) (from the illustrious malgriff)

Day 15: Bridging the gap between campaigns if you keep your hero through any of them (even the lesser-known campaigns) (from the ultimate jorvach)

Day 16: Your hero or one of their party members in therapy (from the fantastical fable sage)

Day 17: Wrongly accused of something they didn't do (you can go with the obvious or not if you like!)

Day 18: Long-term consequences (of politics, society, inter-personal relationships, etc) (from the beauteous the-great-elwisty)

Day 19: Your character stuck with the most annoying party member

Day 20: Unexpected middle ground

Day 21: "Just in case we don't make it-"

Day 22: If Volo (or a newspaper like faerunian TMZ) did a news report on something your hero did (inspired by the wondrous malgriff, songofmadness, and lergahin)

Day 23: Uh-oh! Your hero (or party members or both!) suddenly got affected by a curse which turns them back into children for a day. How do they react or cope? Who looks after them? (from the stupendous songofmadness)

Day 24: Doubts

Day 25: A diary entry or scene described from a side character of your choice (inspired by the glorious songofmadness)

Day 26: In ruins

Day 27: How one of your party members views your own character

Day 28: What happens to the characters long after the game has concluded? Are they still in touch with one another/are the events still relevant to them/have they moved on? (from the mysterious the-great-elwisty)

Day 29: How the adventure should have really ended

Day 30: What's next in your character(s) adventures? (from the fabbu the-great-elwisty)

[seethew3stwithm3]

frost on the eaves // j. miller

hi there :) it's been a while since i've been on tumblr, and i started completely anew with this account, so let me introduce myself. i'm clarke <3 i love to write, even though my creativity has been pretty shit for the past year. but here's a little something i jotted down while listening to phoebe bridgers' christmas music, because i love me some seasonal melancholy. have a wonderful holiday season. and i hope this is the first fic of many. much love, clarke x

(gender-neutral reader. you can imagine show or game joel, it's up to you <3) warnings: angst. a little bit of lightheartedness. the general melancholy at the end of the world. mentions of sarah.

Snow was no stranger to blood, not after all this time at the end of the world. Seasons changed, leaves fell, the sun burned, but Winter always came back around.

Blood dripped from Joel’s nose as he walked back to the house, stumbling a little in the fresh sleet. He swore to himself, an ache in his lower back becoming more apparent with every step he took, as he pulled his jacket tighter around himself.

The cold had always made his nose bleed.

Shoving through the door, he kicked the snow from his boots before leaning against the wall to unlace them. Ellie wasn’t around, or else she would’ve come bounding down the stairs to complain about the racket he’d made.

He was still getting used to not having her at his side, was still working on easing the panic that arose whenever she was out of his sight. They were in Jackson now, as safe as they’d probably ever get, but the decades of vigilance and paranoia, of never trusting anybody, would take just as much time to undo.

Ellie is fine, he reminded himself as he tugged off his boots, grunting in pain at the strain it put on his back.

Lifetimes ago, he would’ve spent tonight in front of a fireplace, wrapping gifts for a little girl whose squeals of delight still lingered faintly in the deepest trenches of his memory. Christmas had once been his favourite time of year, if only for the stupendous amount of joy it brought to Sarah.

Whether it was the glimmering strings of lights, the window displays at the mall, or the general sense of festivity, Sarah’s excitement was constant and infectious for the entire month of December. And, by God, did he miss that.

Joel didn’t let himself remember very often, for it always brought a heaviness with it that was difficult to shake. But just this once, on this cold winter’s night, he let himself recall the sound of his daughter’s laugh. Of the gleam in her eyes, the same shade as his, when she’d unwrapped the digital camera he’d bought for her when she was thirteen.

He’d blinked spots out of his vision for weeks, always caught off guard by the click and flash when Sarah had pointed the damn thing in his direction. He thought of the photo albums she’d filled with whatever provoked enough joy in a thirteen-year-old to immortalise it in a photograph, and wondered what had become of them.

They, like everything —his Sarah, the world— would, of course, be long gone.

With a long sigh, Joel rested his head against the door. In the dark of the hallway, he blinked back the sting of tears. Christmas Eve was different now, all he’d planned to do was down a glass of whiskey, a heavy pour seemed necessary tonight, and go to sleep.

If he was lucky, he’d sleep through Christmas Day altogether.

But the wood vibrated against his forehead as somebody knocked on his door. Huffing a sigh, he opened it. You were the last person he’d expected to see on his doorstep.

“Hi,” you said softly, clutching a thermos in your gloved hands, wearing a gentle smile. But that smile dipped as he stepped into the porchlight. “You’re bleeding.”

“What? Oh.” Joel wiped his nose with the back of his hand, but it was no use, the blood had dried and crusted. “It’s nothin’, come in. Just let me clean up.”

As he led you inside, he couldn’t help but think of the last time you’d graced this hall. It had been two weeks since you’d kissed him, and maybe he’d been out of his damn mind. In the days that followed, he’d made himself scarce, signing up for extra patrols despite the ache in his back. It was foolish, and he’d regretted it each night when pain had lanced up his spine, down through his knees, as he’d tried to sleep.

In the days that followed, he’d fought an internal battle. His relief at a gentle touch waged a losing war against his stubbornness, against his certainty that forging any kind of meaningful connection would only end badly. With loss or abandonment, and he’d faced too much of that. He couldn’t do it again. He just… couldn’t.

Damn him for craving the warmth of you.

“Joel?”

Your voice shook him from his thoughts, and he turned away from the sink where he’d been wiping the blood from his nose.

“Yeah?” He sniffed, relieved that he could breathe clearly now. He crossed his arms, leaning back against the counter.

“I’m sorry,” you said, gaze drifting from the window to his closed-off stance, then to the floor. “For the kiss, and everything. I… yeah.”

With a shrug, your whole demeanour changed. Softening, accommodating to the fizzling awkwardness, brushing it aside. Without ever giving Joel a chance to say anything.

“Anyway, I was going to go for a walk to look at the lights and the tree they put up by the dining hall. I made cocoa. And, well, I guess I came here to ask if you’d come with me?”

Joel nodded, clearing his throat. “Yeah, sure, okay.”

A few minutes later, once Joel had tugged his boots back on, the two of you were out in the cold. It hadn’t snowed too heavily this morning, but the ground was a little icier than usual. You had to focus on each step you took to keep from slipping. But despite your vigilance, you stumbled.

Joel’s hand shot out to grab your elbow, stabilising you in an instant, as he’d done countless times on patrol, or wandering through Jackson. Once you were sure of your footing, you gently shrugged him off, giving him space. He’d made it clear that he didn’t want you, and you weren’t about to disrespect his boundaries by selfishly lingering close.

In the square, the tree they’d set up glimmered with lights. Handmade ornaments adorned the branches, the same ones you’d watched the kids put together in the dining hall last week when you’d been on dish duty after lunch. Painted pinecones, handsewn fabric stars, little bits and bobs and scraps that sparkled and shone.

A few others wandered by, holding steaming mugs of tea, all gathered to take in this sliver of rare festivity. Bundled up in coats and beanies, their breath like clouds in front of them. It was almost like Christmas before.

Settling down on a bench, you took a sip of cocoa from the thermos you carried. Joel grunted quietly; his hands braced on his knees as he sat down beside you. When you offered him the thermos, he took it graciously.

“This is good,” he murmured as he took another few mouthfuls before handing it back.

Minutes passed in silence, and snow began to fall. Little flurries that swept through the brightly lit city centre. Kids laughed, one of them was Ellie, running by with the friends she’d made.

Then it was quiet once more, and the gathered townsfolk left one by one, until the square was empty. Just you and Joel, alone in the snow, illuminated in a dusky glow.

“You didn’t have to apologise,” Joel said after a while, his voice a low rumble. It reminded you of glowing embers, warm, but only if you were close enough. “For kissin’ me, I mean. It was… I didn’t mind.”

You shrugged, setting the thermos on the ground between your feet. “It’s alright. There’re no hard feelings, Joel. The fact that you disappeared and didn’t speak to me for days said enough. It wasn’t… I should’ve asked, before just… yeah.”

The snow picked up, the only witness to this moonlit conversation. A few flakes caught in Joel’s hair, and you found yourself staring, even though you knew you shouldn’t.

“I didn’t… I don’t…” Joel sighed, running a hand down his face, brows furrowed. “I regret avoidin’ you—”

“I already said it’s fine, really—”

“No, ‘cause it made it seem like I didn’t want you when I did,” he grit out, something akin to shame in his voice. “When I do,” he amended.

A snowflake landed on your nose, a tickle of cold that you wiped away. Your heart thudded in your chest, and though you opened your mouth, no words came out.

“And if you’d let me, I’d… I’d like to kiss you.” Joel’s voice had never sounded so gentle.

Haloed in the dim glow, gilded with a faint golden gleam, he looked… different. Different to the Joel you’d always known. His ruggedness had softened at the edges, his dark gaze fixed on you, an almost imperceptible blush upon his cheeks.

There was kindness in him, you’d always known there was, despite his stern exterior. He just wanted to get by, and you understood that, because with the world as it was now, there was no room for gentleness or peace. It was best to grit your teeth, crack your knuckles, and take everything on the offense. Or, alternatively, take the defensive approach and drive yourself mad with paranoia, watching your back with an obsessive nature that slowly chipped away at your health.

Joel had found a sort of balance between the two, and kept his kindness hidden away, stamped down by the years of survival. He was a faded photograph of passing time, with the smattering of grey in his hair, the lines on his forehead and the wrinkles by his eyes, the calluses on his hands and the scars on his knuckles.

It was as though the entire universe, whatever was left of it, weighed on his broad shoulders. And maybe it did. These days, everybody had a cross to bear, memories they’d rather forget.

But if this moment, whatever it was, could ease that ache in him, in you, even if just for a second… You’d take that chance. You’d spent a long time waiting for it.

“Okay,” you whispered, nodding slowly.

His hand came up to cup your cheek as he leaned in, and you were startled by the impulse that bloomed in your chest. The desire to just surrender. To take a moment of respite, alone here in his arms.

He tasted of hot cocoa and mint, and his lips were a little chapped from the cold. But the warmth that seeped into you was a pleasant embrace. And he kissed you like he’d done it a million times before, with a sort of assurance that only accompanied truly knowing somebody.

His tongue swiped at the seam of your lips, and you pulled away. There was still time, you didn’t want to rush this. Whatever it might become.

“Merry Christmas, Joel,” you whispered into the silence, your forehead resting against his. Your eyes were shut, and you could feel the featherlight weight of snowflakes as they landed on your lashes.

“Merry Christmas.”

-----------------------

thanks for reading! i hope to be posting frequently, so if there's anything you'd like to read, send it in and i'll give it my best shot.

[kentomilk]

ᴺᴬᴺᴬᴹᴵ ᴷᴱᴺᵀᴼ ᴵᴺ

𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐈𝐓'𝐋𝐋 𝐁𝐄 ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

it seems there is never an activity too lackluster or intimate for this couple to find pleasure in each other's company with their busy lives.

husband!nanami kento x wife fem!reader.

catalogue. fluff, slice of life content, non-sorcery au/ non-curse, modern au, salaryman!kento, sick & soft kento, (1) mentions of praise kink. wc: 1.95k thea’s preamble. inspired by this incredible art, i must admit i look at this at least once a day. → ✨ also this is my first published work, it's a bit rough but hopefully with time it gets better. thank u for reading &lt;3

kento is a man of routine and order, we all knew that. he wakes up at a set time, kisses his beautiful sleeping wife, carries out his morning routine of showering and oral hygiene, dons his best suit, light breakfast, and is out the door by 8 AM. the evenings he returns home aren’t any less lax, whether he’s home at 6 PM on the dot or late by a few hours, he’ll always greet and kiss his beautiful wife, have dinner in his study whilst he continues more work while the lovely missus reads on the chaise or continues unfinished work of her own as well, then shower and oral hygiene, sleep. 

perhaps that was an oversimplification, but don’t be fooled one may think the man adopts and follows this lifestyle out of a need for security, financial or otherwise. or that he loves the unrelenting and perpetual cycle of working painstakingly 10-hour days, he certainly isn’t given highly-coveted tasks for being a slacker. he’s grateful for what the occupation provides, the salary and bonus that come with his overtime, to lavishly spoil his family, but that's all.

he has no ambition to climb the ladders that will put him in places he doesn't care to be, to rub elbows and kiss ass with scummy executives, leeches, and conceited thugs, only to trash talk and scheme against the moment he steps foot in his home.

all he asks is for saturdays and sundays, as they happen to be Kento’s favourite.

the days he has off from his draining 9-to-5, to be spent properly with his lovely wife. who was ever so patient with him, ever so supportive, and ever so his to love and cherish so as long as his body would allow him. even if his body was battered down to a pulp, he’d find alternatives as necessary, but let’s hope it never comes to that.

there would be times when not much would differ from the previous weekend, and well into the next, spent doing the same activities, or nothing at all. he never wanted to take for granted the time you spent together, and sometimes that meant not always making the most of those days, and he’s okay with that.

whether the two of you lazed in bed until the afternoon or spent a whole day cooking a feast completely from scratch, starters to dessert. visiting the farmers market to cook said feast, reading in your cozy home library, or even the sudden bouts of spring cleaning. 

there is always a welcome invite for spontaneity, a picnic under the stupendous aspen tree you simply adored at the local park. a quick overnight trip to a scenic and quaint town, whether your destination is reached by train, plane, automobile, or even boat. the occasional painting date has become a more frequent activity as of late. but there is one “special” activity that some might consider, unique. one that is relatively low cost, that is done from the comforts of your humble abode, that further advances the intimacy (according to kento), and is reserved solely for you, one that kento absolutely adored, shaving. 

usually, it was something he’d done alone after showers with either a rechargeable or disposable razor or by his barber when it came time for his bi-monthly hair trim. but recently it became a task that you’d undertake by kento’s request, sort of.

while you didn’t mind what would grow from a days of not shaving, he preferred maintaining a clean shave for the clean-cut classification for a man of his occupation, it also became supplemental to his hygiene routine that he grew to love.

it wasn’t something you saw often, kento so dishevelled with the most tragic undereye bags from the lack of sleep from what you’d think was months suffering from insomnia, condensed into a few days. a coarse stubble emerged from the days he’d spent in bed, and his nose was flushed with how often he’d been blowing it with the nearly empty box of tissues that was full just the night before. his eyes were dull and watering, a sight you truly hated. 

"honey, have you seen my hard drive?" he'd sorely asked for the 3rd time today, "it's in the laptop, kento." you called back, changing the towels in your bathroom.

he was delirious, with a runny nose and little to no comprehension of where he was or what day it was, thanks to the combination of flu medicine and kento’s determination to finish a work proposal whilst in bed, common sense would also call it overworking. despite your gentle commands that he needed rest, there was no triumph on your end, as duty calls. he was relentless, in his defense there was a conference that was meant to be held in person had it not been for his sudden ailment. though a live video conference was able to be arranged, owing to the urgency of the matter at hand. 

so you figured the fastest way to get the man back into bed was to help him complete this ordeal swiftly, that meant helping him in the shower, given his sore muscle ached. applying small dots of concealer under his eyes as to not bring attention to his fatigued face, deterring from the presentation at hand.

dressing him in his warmest wool suit, but only the upper half, kento was sound enough to know there was no need to abandon his fleecy Pompompurin pajama pants. the executives were only to see from the shoulders up after all. and lastly ridding him of a heavy five o'clock shadow that was speckled with smears of dried rice from the porridge you had made him earlier. 

“ok, that should be enough,” you whispered, carefully taking off the damp towel that no longer retained warmth, and squeezing out the shaving cream from the canister into your hand.

you proceed to spread the milky foam in a thin layer across the lower half of his face, letting out a soft chuckle at the finished outcome. you picked up the brand-new razor from the counter, puffing your cheeks and letting out a deep breath.

“i trust you.” kento whispered, his voice scratchy and hushed. 

you smiled in response, quietly informing him that you were starting. you crouched to his eye level, pulling his cheek upward with one hand, so the skin where you would shave would be taut. you intently watched his face as well as the area that you had just removed facial hair, making sure that there were no nicks or alter in his relaxed expression, verging on sleep. once you gained confirmation of such, you proceeded to shave the next row, and the next, working inwards towards his lips. 

rinsing the razor after each use, and wiping on a towel you had draped on the counter. though nerve-wracking for a first try, it had been executed well and was quite therapeutic. your eyes were attentive and your hands steady with every down stroke. as you continued to rinse and repeat, literally, you looked up into the bathroom mirror to see your husband rotating his head to view the work that had been done, then looking straight at you with a simple grin and tired eyes, asking what he thought so far.

“you’re doing so good, my love.” he plainly states, but those watery eyes said otherwise with an innuendo you couldn’t miss, in a singular eyebrow raise. stupid praise kink, you thought, looking him up and down, wondering how even in this state, where he acquired the audacity. it wasn’t long until the two of you burst into a fit of laughter, kento being cautious as to not rub off the shaving cream with one hand that covered his eyes as he leaned back in the chair. 

“what even are you.” you snickered, quickly calming yourself with the reminder of the razor in your hand.

you proceeded to shave, on the brink of completion, now focusing above his lip, where you took even more caution than you had before, due to the sensitivity of his skin in that area. opting to sit on his lap, nearly chest-to-chest with his sore arms that maintained enough strength to have a secure hold on you, even though your knees were bent, and your feet touched the heated floor effortlessly. 

a few stolen kisses on kento’s behalf, and nothing more than a restrained smile that he was fighting from getting any bigger as you finished the last few strokes. in his mind, it was anticipated that the minute kento finally got better, you were going to contract what he had afterward anyway. and in turn, he’d take care of you. 

so what's the harm in a few more kisses?

“so my dear husband, how would you like to start our weekend?” you asked, still cozily tucked under the blankets, looking at your husband who was similarly bundled under the toasty blankets, with your hand situated on top of his, placed gently on your cheek.

“well dear wife, it’s been days since i’ve last shaved.” he simpered, looking down at you with sly eyes.

it was something the both of you saw coming, once again he hadn’t been shaving for a while, but of course, it was deliberate. you softly laugh in response with your voice still heavy in slumber, “i’ll go get the facial steamer— in a few minutes, i want to savor every second of this vacation.” further burrowing yourself into his chest.

it had been a few months since the first time you had to shave kento’s while he was recovering, the proposal went flawlessly if you omit the booming sneezes that startled the executives even through the screen.

you had since made the switch to a straight blade like the ones you’d see used in old school barber shops, watching tutorials on methods exercised by professionals for efficiency and safety. 

invested in a proper kit that supplied everything you’d need. from shave oil, pre-shave oil, shave cream, a velvety brush to spread the lather, after-shave (which smelled phenomenal), and blade replacements.

it’s been even longer since his barber last gave him a proper shave after a haircut, and that time will only continue to be prolonged. he loved how close you’d be when focusing, but time after time you’d only grown to relax the tension in your muscles. you’d sit on his lap for more of the session, and those sessions would only go longer from the last.

where there would be conversation taking place about your lives, now and the future. sometimes there would be easy-listening music playing from the speakers that would lay the cornerstones of an “impromptu” dancing session, where kento’s hands would be politely placed on your lower back, and his hand strong in yours, waltzing all around your bathroom for what felt like forever.

he was shirtless, and truth be told a little chilly, and you were wearing an old shirt of his, to him you always looked beautiful. even though there was still plenty of shaving cream on his face, it would eventually be smeared on yours. there wasn’t much more he wanted in life.

if you ask him, any weekend is well-spent, even if you do spend the entirety of it in bed, painting beautiful sceneries, cooking your favourite dishes, dancing with ardour despite having taken one class on ballroom waltz, or you shaving his grown-out stubble. as long as you're by his side, nothing is ever a waste of time. that’s how it’s been, that’s how is it, and that’s how it’ll be.

and who knows, maybe next time kento will convince you to cut his hair.

[interactions] reblogs, comments & likes are appreciated ₊˚⊹♡

[longitudinalwaveme]

Gaps Between Character Appearances: Flash vol. 1

Basically what it says on the tin: an examination of the longest amounts of time a character was absent for during the Silver/Bronze Age Flash run.

Heroes and Supporting Cast:

Barry Allen: Since he was the main character, Barry was, unsurprisingly, basically in every issue of the Flash. There are therefore no significant gaps in his appearances.

Iris West-Allen: Iris was in pretty much every issue from 1956 to 1979, when she was killed by the Reverse-Flash. She then disappeared from the comic until 1985, when she returned for the end of the Trial of the Flash arc---an absence of six years.

Henry and Nora Allen: Their biggest absence was a seven-year gap between 1966 and 1973. There was then a second large gap between their appearance in 1973 and their reappearance in 1978.

Daphne Dean: Her biggest gap was an 11-year disappearance from 1966 to 1977. She then had another large gap between 1977 and 1982.

Ira West: His biggest gap was a 3-year gap between 1975 and 1978. He then pretty much disappeared from the book entirely after 1979.

Solovar: His biggest absence was a 13-year gap between 1965 and 1978.

Wally West: As Kid Flash, he appeared pretty consistently, either with Barry or on his own, until the very end of the run. The biggest gap is a two-year span between 1981 and 1983.

Patty Spivot: She didn't have any gaps of more than a year at any point between 1977 and and 1984, her full run on the series.

Fiona Webb: Fiona didn't have any gaps of more than a year for her full run on the series, either, which lasted from 1980 to 1985.

Joan Garrick: Her biggest gap in the Flash series was between 1978 and 1982 (the latter of which was her last appearance in Barry's run).

Jay Garrick: His biggest gap is the same 4-year gap as Joan's (between 1978 and 1982). He then disappears from the comic for its last three years (most of which were taken up by the never-ending Trial of the Flash arc).

Dexter Myles: His biggest gap was a roughly three-year period between 1970 and 1973.

Villains:

Professor Zoom the Reverse-Flash: The biggest gap in appearances he had prior to his death was the 5-year gap between 1969 ("Time Times 3 Equals--?") and 1974 ("Green Lantern---Master Criminal of the 25th Century"). After his death in 1980, he effectively disappeared for 3 years, reappearing in 1983 only to die again.

Abra Kadabra: His biggest gap in appearances was the five-year gap between 1972 ("The Flash in Cartoon-Land!") and 1977 ("Kill Me, Flash--Faster, Faster!"). There was also a 4-year gap between 1968 ("The Thief Who Stole All the Money in Central City") and 1972.

Gorilla Grodd: Grodd was absent for seven years, between 1971 (“Beyond the Speed of Life!”, otherwise known as the issue where Digger and James trip the Flash and he dies) and 1978 (“Beyond the Super-Speed Barrier").

Captain Cold: Captain Cold had two fairly sizeable gaps between appearances: a five-year gap between 1969 ("Captain Cold Blows His Cool") and 1974 ("The Hot-Cold War in Central City!"), and a four-year gap between 1977 ("To Believe or Not to Believe!") and 1981 ("Captain Cold's Cold, Cold Flame"). There was also a 3-year gap between his appearance in Showcase #8 and his appearance in Flash #114.

Mirror Master: Mirror Master had a number of two-year gaps between appearances, but never anything more than that. He was the most consistently appearing Flash villain.

Heat Wave: The biggest gap for Heat Wave was basically the same as for Captain Cold---a five-year gap between 1969 and 1974.

Captain Boomerang: Digger disappeared for four years between 1967 ("The Stupendous Triumph of the Six Super-Villains") and 1971 ("Beyond the Speed of Life!"). He was also missing for a 3-year period between 1976 (“The Last Day of June is the Last Day of Central City!”) and 1979 ("Road to Oblivion!").

Trickster: Trickster had a number of 3-year gaps between appearances---between 1965 ("The Trickster's Toy Thefts") and 1968 ("The Swell-Headed Super Hero"), between 1968 and 1971 ("Beyond the Speed of Life!"), between 1971 and 1974 ("The Day I Saved the Flash!", also known as writer Cary Bates' self-insert fanfic), between 1977 ("Prisoner of the Past") and 1980 ("If, At First You Don't Succeed"), and between 1980 and 1983 ("Dead Reckoning").

Weather Wizard: Weather Wizard was absent for six years, from 1967 ("The Race to the End of the Universe") to 1973 ("The Heart that Attacked the World").

Pied Piper: Hartley was absent from 1967 ("The Stupendous Triumph of the Six Supervillains") to 1972 ("The Flash of 1000 Faces"), a gap of five years. He also had a roughly four-year gap between 1977 ("Prisoner of the Past") and 1981 ("The Pied Piper's Paradox Peril"), and a 4-year gap between his first appearance in 1959 and his second appearance in 1963.

The Top: Roscoe was absent for six years, from 1967 ("The Stupendous Triumph of the Six Supervillains") to 1973 ("The Million-Dollar Death Trap!"). He was then basically absent from his death in 1976 to his return as a ghost in 1981, a five-year gap. His last appearance in the comic was in November 1981.

Golden Glider: Her biggest gap was a three-year absence from 1978 (“The Golden Glider’s Final Fling!”) to 1981 ("1981--A Flash Odyssey!"). Her last appearance in the comic was in October 1982.

Rainbow Raider: His biggest gap was a year-and-a-half-to-two year gap between 1981 ("A Stab in the Black!") and 1983 ("Trade Heroes and Win!").

Mr. Element/Dr. Alchemy: There was a six-year gap between Dr. Alchemy's appearance in 1958 ("The Man Who Changed the Earth!") and Mr. Element's appearance in 1964 ("Our Enemy, the Flash!"). Albert Desmond disappeared again from 1966 ("One Bridegroom Too Many!”) to 1972 ("The Curse of the Dragon’s Eye!”), a roughly six-year gap. He also disappeared for another six years between 1974 (“The Fury of the Fire-Demon!”) and 1980 (“Dr. Alchemy and Mr. Desmond"). His last appearance in the series was in September 1980. Alvin only appeared from July to September 1980 during Barry's run, and as such there were no gaps between his appearances.

Paul Gambi: Paul was absent for 10 years between 1963 and 1973, and then had a 9-year gap between 1976 and 1985.

Among the villains, Grodd had the biggest gap between his appearances, since he was gone from the pages of the Flash for seven years. Albert Desmond had the most frequent long absences, though, with three different six-year gaps.

Among the Rogues proper, The Top and the Weather Wizard had the largest gaps between appearances, though the Top's death meant that he was gone for more of the series than Weather Wizard.

[supurman]

+ TOPIC : // a study and guide for the measure of strength of superman.

NOTES : there is dispute in comics of superman's true strength. with different writers and comics his strength can be greatly downplayed. this meta is to rectify that. you are free to disagree if your character is stronger, but that is not the canon found on supurman.com unless specifically outlined. it is important to note that within EVERY character in dc each writer interprets and decides how strong/capable they are. in one comic superman is extremely strong, in others moderately, and so on. as writers we all have the right to interpret what's plausible for our characters the same way dc writers do. on this blogs iteration of clark, i write his power in the truest form.

QUICK SUMMARY : Primarily focused on his feats of RAW PHYSICAL STRENGTH. but a brief list of his other powers will be present.

PRE-TEXT: this meta is by no way 'scientific' nor is it meant to adhere to logic. if you adhere to science or logic with SUPERMAN he simply cannot be enjoyed properly and that is how it has always been. he is a character who can blow ice without explanation, show lasers from his eyes, drinks uv rays with human cells, can stop moving trains without making them crumble due to physics, can fly without reason. his powers don't adhere to anything real. the moment you try to make sense of him he becomes boring. with that being said, i encourage you to look upon his feats of strength with wonder and no need of logic. superman is awesome simply because he is ! he can do things because he is superman. he is meant to be a character that can rise above anything with his amazing powers because of who he is.

superman is hailed as one of the strongest characters across all media. this is because of how time and time again in comics he continues to have the most impressive physical feats across dc comic media. the strength found within his body is immeasurable as to put wonder into his awesome capabilities. while he possesses a wide array of powers under his belt the brunt of all his abilities come down his durability, speed, and the crown of it all his strength. he by far is the strongest character within DC physically and none can hold a candle to him when written in his truest form. he can be delayed and held toe to toe with, but he is the strongest. his strength not only at baseline is already incredible, it has the power to multiply in on itself without causing damage to his body ( only when done naturally, and properly ). with great excursions of strength opens the doorway to him unlocking new dormant abilities once unknown to himself.

superman describes the world around him as a world of cardboard which forces him to be careful and at all times hold himself back. if he isn't careful it could mean tragedy faster then one could blink. there is a REASON superman is held as the 'strongest' to us. ( example: he is the unfortunate main target in power scaling conversations ). there is a reason he has SUCH POTENT weakness which can render him nearly dying instantly. it is a consequence for how incredibly overpowered he is.

below are some examples of his strength in no actual order to draw belief from.

* #1 : description: superman holds an entire blackhole within his singular fist. he was able to hold the blackhole in his fist indefinitely. the only way he would falter is if his mind was altered with- however even then he never released the black hole.

* #2 : description: superman holds the weight of the world at 5.972 sextilllion metric tons for FIVE DAYS STRAIGHT and still brazenly ask for MORE weight to be added. in addition to that, he shows he can continue to hold this stupendous weight indefinitely.

* #3 : description: superman being taken down by the justice league showing that the only way he can be held back is by THE ENTIRE FULL PLANNED AND POWER OF THE LEAGUE. additionally, it is admitted that if clark KNEW that the justice league were coming for him he would have defeated them all or at least put on a GREAT fight. as quoted by martin manhunter " without the element of surprise we would not have a chance. " notable things here that it also takes MANY extremely physically strong heroes to hold him back including wonder woman, kon-el, and supergirl

SOME NOTES ON THIS: this comic panel is not an example of his strength particularly but HOW SERIOUS of a threat he is taken. the superman in this panel isn't actually superman at all, but a fake. none the less the JLA had no reason to believe this wasn't the superman gone rogue and had to carefully plot their full power to thwart him.

* #4 : superman defeats the imperiex probe. an enemy that was able to beat the combined attack of green lantern, wonder woman, flash, plastic man, martian manhunter, aquaman and more.

while these 4 are not every show of power superman has showed us through his amazing adventures they sure are notable. he continues to show us how capable he is and how absolutely he is the physically strongest. now many of you may think "wow if superman is so strong, why does he still get beat up or not win in one punch. " well one part of me will tell you it does have to do with story writing and everything being writers based. would it be fun to watch superman always win in one punch? no. part of his character is the struggle to continue to rise above. additionally to this though it also has to do with how he doesnt kill. he lived his whole life holding back in contrast to someone like his cousin kara who never holds back. his style of living translates into how he fights. he holds back and doesnt want to kill. with his virtue of empathy he can often times summon his defeat in battles .... always is superman holding himself back.

+ ( SUB ) TOPIC : // the other powers

part of what makes superman so formidable is not because he is so strong, but because there is so much to look out for that he can pull out his cards of tricks. below is a brief list of his powers but keep in mind some of his powers have sub-abilities linked to them that are more minor i won't name.

if clark is in a bind any one of these can be used to the fullest extent. with so much powers that range from heat, to cold, to identifying weak spots he makes quite the adversary ...

+ CONCLUSION : //

if there is anything to take away from this is that superman is powerful, extremely powerful. he loses, he gets back up. he fights, he allows more of himself to release power he withholds. while i spent all this time saying he is the most undeniable powerful in DC ( physically ! ) i write him similarly to how you will find him in the comics,  which is dynamically. i am FINE with him being defeated, bested, out smarted. clark makes mistakes, he can be brought to the edge of in a fight BUT ONLY within reason.

superman is strong. he could take on a well rounded set of the justice league and prevail. he just is this strong and that is how he was intended to the audience when created. but despite everything i said about his strength, his true strength is found in his kindness.

i would still like to reiterate the point that every comic depiction of clark in a fight is different from writer to writer. in some text he can hold the weight of a book that is infinite in weight. in others he gets punched by some random villain that sends him into a building. i simply write him how he intended which is to be so powerful without reason simply because he is a superman! it is often said superman cannot be enjoyed by adults because adults require reason to everything he can do and thus end up hating him for being a gary sue, while kids look at superman saving the day and go "whoa, he did it because hes superman!" that wonder is what I encapsulate on this blog with his abilities. clark isnt just an alien, but in many context he  is entire star if it were a man. that is some power to deal with.

" this looks like a job for superman ! " - clark kent, superman .

[pushing500]

It's time to get Kwahu back to running at Full Power Plus™ with a brand-new bionic arm

He's so happy to be able to hi-five people properly again <3

And it's not long until Mechi is fitted out with a new bionic, too. He's one step closer to matching Yamka!!

Look at him gooooo!! <3 <3

Aww, Mechi apparently doesn't cope with anesthetic as well as Kwahu does. I think this might actually be his first mental break of the series, if we don't count the cube ones.

First | Next | Previous

[littlxpxtal]

Little Dove | Chapter 1

You sat in the fitting room, picking at your fingers, legs bobbing up and down waiting for Tigris to bring out the dress she hand sewn for the ceremony.

“Ta-da!” she announced pleased with herself as she wheeled the gown out on a mannequin carved to your measurements.

You gasped in awe. It was a deep red with a provocative sweetheart neckline. The length was past the floor, sprawling out. A good excuse to use the new platform heels you bought a few weeks ago. 

Immediately undressing, Tigris helped you step into the dress, fitting perfectly to your curves as always. The fabric was a soft crushed velvet, lined with a slippery satin that made it comfortable to move around in.

“You’ve outdone yourself this time, Tigris”

“It was nothing! All I could think about was you on that stage wearing it.”

You blushed and kissed her cheek. 

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” you exclaimed. “Do you think he will like it?”

“He’s already seen it.” she winked. You stared at her quizzically. 

“And?”

“He wanted me to raise the neckline. I told him I would but”

“But you didnt” you laughed

“He just doesn’t get it. He’ll forgive me someday”

You watched yourself in the mirror, heart starting to race at the thought of actually winning this award.

She showed you the different hairstyles and accessories she envisioned with her dress and you let her do her magic, saying yes to almost everything she proposed due to excitement and the inability to actually think straight from the nervousness. 

You were against 3 other candidates, 2 from the gamemaker committee and one from the presidents cabinet. You constantly ridiculed your mind with doubts, these other people had far more important jobs and positions in Panem. Plus you were the only female nominee. 

“Why are you so quiet all of a sudden?” She asked as she removed the last necklace option. 

“Do you really think I can win?”

Her face immediately crossed at your silly inquiry.

“Are you joking? No women in Panem has had the balls to do what you’ve done. You’ve gone out of your way to get these billionaires to donate to your campaign. You went to the districts personally to see the televisions installed. You designed the campaign ads yourself and gave dozens of speeches infronts of hundreds of people to support your initiative. You did all of that ideating and creating by yourself and made it happen. None of those other losers came close to the amount of work you put in this year to make a name for yourself. If you lose this award to one of them I’ll make their wives lives hell.”

You looked down and smiled at her outburst, grabbing her hand over your shoulder and squeezing it. 

“I couldn’t do this without you.”

There was a knock at the door 

“Miss Y/L/N, your driver is here.” One of Tigris’s assistants announced through the door.

“That’s my cue” you said standing up preparing to have Tigris unzip the dress off of you. 

“Tell Coriolanus I said hello.” she said flatly. 

It was the day of the awards ceremony and you woke up to an empty bed. Coryo had mentioned he had some duties to attend before the ceremony, but you were not expecting to him to leave so early. You hadn’t been very vocal about your anxiety surrounding the event that night, in fact you rarely spoke about it with him. 

It was only spoken about once during dinner with some of Coriolanus’s old peers that he would occasionally have over. Keeping them in good spirits in case he needed their support down the road. 

“So did Y/N tell you about her nomination?” Clemensia asked across the table at Coriolanus, sitting at the head of the table.

His eyebrow quirked up.

“Nomination for what?”

“Innovator of the year!” She cheered, tipping her wine glass at you. You politely dabbed your mouth from the spoonful of soup you just swallowed. A blush creeping up your neck to your face you sat as still as possible, not moving your eyes away from Clemmie. 

“I nominated her.” Festus chimed in. “The work shes done at the firm has been stupendous” He added. 

You finally gained the courage to look over at your boyfriend and his jaw was clenched. The room was silent before he forced a smile. 

“That’s lovely, congratulations Y/N” you smiled softly back at him and placed a hand over his. He didnt move, or acknowledge the touch, he kept his forced smile and used his other hand to raise his glass. 

“To Y/N”

“TO Y/N” Everyone exclaimed. 

It was previously planned before the dinner that you would be staying at Coryo’s that night, but after dinner you wished there had been a car waiting to take you home. The silence in the apartment after the guests left was suffocating. The clinks of glasses and dishes as you and Coryo cleaned up the table were the only sounds to be heard. 

You were wiping the counter as he starting to losen his tie and uncuff his links. 

“Why didn’t you tell me about this award?” He asked with no emotion. 

Without turning to face him you sighed. 

“It’s not really that big of a deal, it’s just a nomination. I doubt I’ll even get it.”

He huffed and walked over, standing inches infront of you. 

“Tell me about it.” He looked hard at you, furrowing his brows, eyes piercing into yours. 

“It’s one of the newer ones they’ve come up with for this years ceremony before the reapings begin. Its a way to celebrate everyone who’s played a part, they’re making them bigger and bigger every year.”

“Yes I know about this ceremony, we’re invited to it and I’ve gone every year since University. I’m asking you about your nomination and how you qualified.”

“I was nominated for Innovator of the year -” he interrupted “By Festus Creed” stating annoyed. He walked over to the fridge to get a glass of water.

“Well yes, I didn’t ask him to, if thats what your thinking.” He let out a dark laugh. 

“No thats not what im thinking. Im thinking he did it to get under my skin. He’s always trying to find ways to undermine me, he probably knew I wasnt nominated for anything.” He sat the cup down forcefully.

That’s when you realized this anger was not from you not telling him, perhaps he even knew. He didn’t seem surprised when it was announced at dinner, he seemed annoyed if anything. The attention turning from him hosting his guests to them toasting to you. He was jealous.

“I was nominated for my implementation of the Hunger Games being televised in the homes of every district resident, and my hardwork at campaigning to get people to advertise and put money behind the games.” You simply stated. Turning to finish wiping off the counter and walking to the sink to rinse your hands.

“I don’t think I’m even going to win Coriolanus.” you sighed wiping your hands on a towel. “Im against 3 other strong candidates who have done much more important and serious jobs than this. Plus I’m a woman, there has never been a female winner in any of the categories since the beginning of the games and these ceremonies. In all honesty, I think it was Festus who was trying to get under my skin and humiliate me infront of all of Panem. For me to think I even have a chance to have my name on a screen among those who have a bigger legacy in the history of our country. I just made some flyers and put up some TVs in the districts.” Tears brimmed your eyes at the reality of it all. The shame you felt from getting your hopes up.

You heard his footsteps creep behind you, quickly wiping your tears before he could see how pathetically emotional you were getting over this. He touched the back of your arm and kissed the top of your head.

“You’re going to win.” He stated plainly, then left the room. 

An Avox brought breakfast to your bedside as requested. Unable to get most of it down, you slowly sipped the tea as you flicked through the TV, finally settling on a kids cartoon just to have some background noise as you tried to calm your nerves before having to start tonights preparations. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I can’t believe you made me come here” Tigris whispered, annoyed. 

“I’m sorry he wanted us to arrive together and I couldn’t convince him to get ready at my apartment.” you shrugged. 

Tigris and her crew of makeup artists got to work, putting heat on your hair and moisturizing your face. 

The sun was beginning to set, and you had about a full bottle of champagne down the hatch by the time they were done. Slipping on the gold strappy platform heels you’ve been daydreaming about, you walked over to the full body mirror Coryo had hanging in the guest bedroom. 

“WOW” you exclaimed. “I can’t believe you made me this pretty”

Tigris shushed you with her hands and picked up the train of your dress to lay around you, as designed. She handed you the box of the final necklace that was decided upon before whisking her assistants and tools away. 

“See you at the ceremony Y/N” she cheered before shutting the door. 

Taking the next few minutes of silence to admire yourself in the mirror, you were so absorbed in your own beauty that you didn’t even hear the door open, or his footsteps walking toward you. 

Only until you heard his voice did you notice his presence. 

“Need some help with that?” He motioned towards the jewlery box set on the stand by the mirror. 

You nodded your head excitedly and he opened it, smirking at the large piece of jewlery.

You eyed the exquisite gold necklace, lined with small diamonds around the base. 

“Tigris has a taste for the extravagant doesn’t she” you laughed sheepishly, not remembering it being an option she provided during your last visit. 

“I actually picked this one out.” he whispered in your ear. He motioned for you to lift your hair, and he placed it gently against your collarbones, fingers tracing lightly around your neck as he clasped it. 

You turned to face him, your nerves easing looking into his familiar eyes. “Thank you, I love it.”

He placed a small kiss on your cheek, avoiding the lipgloss that was applied a few moments before the team left. 

“The car is here” he said standing back up straight and eyeing himself in the mirror, making sure he was in check for the event. Sweeping a hand over the side of his hair to calm a strayaway that had popped out. 

“Coryo I’m nervous” you squeaked out.

He didn’t react, still staring at himself in the mirror to make sure all was put together. 

“Don’t be love, you’re going to win.”

His eyes flickered over to you for a second before placing a hand on your waist. 

“C’mon now, don’t work yourself up over this. Let’s just have a good time.”

Coryo wasn’t always the best at comforting your ailments, but tonight he was being particularly insensitive. Now no longer nervous, but frustrated you huffed, grabbing your purse and pulling up the train of your own dress to the car. Fiddling with your idle hands again, since he wasnt holding them, burrowing into deep thought of the morbid embarrassment you feel if you didn’t win. How sad it would be for Coriolanus to be seen with someone who was a loser. Your throat tightened, letting out a sob you had been holding the whole car ride.

“Pull over.” he demanded to the driver. 

“Dove, what’s wrong?”

“I don’t think I can do this, I can’t bare to humiliate you like this. Can we please go home and forget this. If anyone should be winning anything its you. Im so silly to think-”

“I need you to listen to me right now. You will not humiliate me, you should be proud of yourself for being nominated. Its an honor, one that you have rightfully been nominated for. You wouldn’t be here if there werent people behind those doors who didnt believe that. Please pull yourself together, for me?” He held your hand, fingers tracing the side of your face as you stared into his eyes, searching for more. You wanted him to be proud of you, to be more open. About anything. 

“Okay.” you whispered. “I’m ready”

“Go on.” Coryo instructed the driver. He held onto your hand until the car came to a stop again infornt of the parade of photographers outside of the building. He released your hand to step out, waving the cameras away so he could come around to your side of the car. Taking a deep breath, he opened the door and flashes blinding you slightly, making you forget where you were, what you were there for and what you were wearing. Immediately becoming self conscious, you gave a small smile to the cameras before grabbing Coryo’s hand to lift yourself from the car seat.

After regaining your composure, you put on the performance you usually gave to those outside of your close circle, a radiating confidence that had people swooning at the sight. You gave a smirk at the cameras before leaning over to give Coryo a kiss on the cheek. He rolled his eyes, only slight enough for you to see. The camera men cheered, begging for more. 

This was what originally attracted Coriolanus to you. Your confidence and way with people. You couldn manipulate people with your smile, sarcasm and humour. People would fight for your attention in conversation, dying for you to hear what they have to say. You were such a people person it made him sick. You were also better at networking than him, which would make his blood boil if you took it too far. 

Your flirtatious manners have gotten you into trouble a few times with him. Taking just a little too far for his liking, but he could never stay mad at you, since he knew it was all an act. All a performance. Behind closed doors your were doubtful, over thinking every interaction you had. An intense anxiety over every decision you made. On the outside you were so sure of yourself. But on the inside you were always second guessing and frightened. 

That was the difference between you two. 

As for Coriolanus, his confidence outside was just an expression of how he felt inside. He was more sure of himself than anyone you had ever met, which is what attracted you to him. 

Together you were a force to be reckoned with. 

He let you have your time with the cameras, letting them get shots of all angles of your dress and accessories. 

“Who designed your outfit this evening Y/N”

“Tigris Snow of course, who else?” You smiled brightly, placing your hands on your hips and winking at the camera man the question had been asked from. 

“But this necklace is from my lover, Coriolanus.” You gesture over to the man standing to the side. The cameras began to flash and point at him. They began shouting questions at him, except they weren’t the normal questions he’s usually asked at these events. 

Like what new laws hes proposing, or when he will run for president. 

No. 

Tonight they were all questions about you. 

You tried reading his face to see what he was thinking, but just like you, Coryo put on an act for the cameras. 

“Do you think Y/N is going to win Innovator of the year?” One shouted.

Unable to read his expression as you guys strode up the stairs, him holding onto your train for you this time, he stops and turns to look over his shoulder

“Hell yes she is.”

[the-bus-called-graveyard-8]

Madagascar in Nickelodeon Magazine (part 3 of 4)

The third time Madagascar was featured in Nick Mag was the September 2009 issue, to promote the still fairly new series The Penguins of Madagascar.

This was the fourth-to-last issue of Nick Mag before it went defunct, making The Penguins of Madagascar the final show to be highlighted by the magazine other besides SpongeBob, which would be featured on the remaining three covers.

The cover has one of my favorite promotional images from the franchise, featuring the Penguins and King Julien.

The first appearance of the Penguins is a bit of a stretch—it's just a picture of Rico next to an ad for some games on Nick's website, which are unfortunately no longer there.

Lastly we have a fictional newspaper with stories about several characters. Full transcript under the read more!

What's black and white and read all over the Central Park Zoo? This prank newspaper featuring the characters of Penguins of Madagascar. It's what all the animals are talking about!

The Zoo York Times

PENGUINS SAVE ZOO!

by David Lewman

The ever-heroic penguins saved the day from total disaster when a strange, furry invader breached the perimeter of the zoo. "It's no big deal," said Skipper, leader of the penguins. "Just doing our job."

When asked how the mission was accomplished, Skipper smiled modestly. "Normally, I'd say that's classified," he answered. "But I'm in a good mood, so I'll allow this debriefing.

"We were doing some routine reconnaissance when Private spotted the deadly intruder. I asked Kowalski for options, Rico coughed up the necessary equipment, and we went into action. The rest was simple."

The penguins' neighbor, Marlene the otter, tells a slightly different story. "Oh, they just saw a squirrel. After they jumped around and made some ridiculous noises, the squirrel looked confused and left."

The squirrel could not be located for comment.

CHIMP-TASTIC!

Mason and Phil have set an amazing poo-flinging record, successfully throwing more poo than any chimp has thrown before. "We trained long and hard for this," said Mason as Phil communicated in hand gestures. "We flung that old record out the window!"

Those weeks of practice really paid off. "If we'd failed, it would have been a messy situation," explained Mason. "Well...messier."

The Zoovenir Shop will host a party to celebrate the chimps' magnificent achievement.

Zookeeper Alice, while on cleaning duty, was overheard offering this glowing review of the accomplishment: "It stinks!"

NEW STATUE OF KING JULIEN TO BE UNVEILED

A statue of King Julien will soon be put on display in the zoo. "It is most handsome, since it is based on me," explained the lofty lemur. "From the top of my beautiful head to the bottom of my stupendous bottom, the statue will me the most gorgeous work of art this zoo has ever see, I tell you."

A date for the unveiling will be announced once a sculptor is found to make the statue and the money is raised to pay for it.

[vickyvicarious]

He was still in the strait-waistcoat and in the padded room, but the suffused look had gone from his face, and his eyes had something of their old pleading—I might almost say, "cringing"—softness. I was satisfied with his present condition, and directed him to be relieved. [...] It was soothing, somehow, to the feelings to find myself dissociated even in the mind of this poor madman from the others; but all the same I do not follow his thought. Am I to take it that I have anything in common with him, so that we are, as it were, to stand together; or has he to gain from me some good so stupendous that my well-being is needful to him? I must find out later on. To-night he will not speak. Even the offer of a kitten or even a full-grown cat will not tempt him. [...] I wish I could get some clue to the cause. It would almost seem as if there was some influence which came and went. Happy thought! We shall to-night play sane wits against mad ones. He escaped before without our help; to-night he shall escape with it. We shall give him a chance, and have the men ready to follow in case they are required….

More of Seward being an absolute disaster today. Like, it's possible to see his train of thought... it's just very subjective and personal and super unethical.

He doesn't release Renfield from the padded room/straightjacket until the man is performing subservience for him again. Sure, it's also that he's not being actively violent, but the way he says "he was cringing, I was satisfied" leaves a sour taste in the mouth.

When Renfield goes "ha, as if I could ever hurt you" Seward is flattered. His hurt feelings of yesterday/a week ago (timeline weirdness!) are soothed. However, he tries to remain more objective and analyze why he gets special treatment now. He doesn't really like the idea that Renfield feels any commonality with him; this is something we've seen Seward quite conscious of in the past, his own atypical mind and how it may be close to 'madness'. He wonders also if Renfield is just trying to get something from him. In the past he's not quite realized just how successfully Renfield has manipulated him, and it's kind of hilarious how Seward's immediate impulse here is to offer up what he thinks Renfield wants. If the guy were still trying for a cat, he'd be on the right track it seems.

But also, the fact that Seward offered a full-grown cat is really alarming. In the past, he did bring that up first, yes. But it was in the context of Renfield asking for a kitten, Seward promising nothing, but inquiring if he would rather have the adult. He never actually made any offers, and in fact that was his line in the sand that ended up halting the initial animal cultivation experiments. He refused to give a cat or kitten, thinking that would be going too far - though he was tempted for a cause to justify it. Here, he just makes the offer for either one! No cause in sight!

And at the end, he makes another wildly unprofessional choice to give Renfield the opportunity to escape to see what he will do. Quite aside from the fact that he's not supposed to be allowing patients to run away, Seward himself begins the both the main entry and this later part by saying Renfield was violent for days (three in this later bit - should this be two separate entries and we are missing a week, then three more days, or was Stoker considering only a 3-day gap from yesterday? timeline weirdness! but regardless, it's still been days). Sure, he's calmer by night and that's when he plans to release him, but this is opening up himself to potential legal trouble as well as Renfield/potential passersby to physical danger (or even himself or the attendants; Renfield is a strong guy and who knows if he might fight back harder this time or pick up a weapon). He's also treating Renfield like nothing but an experiment, with no consideration for things such as how the last time he got out and went to the chapel his mental health took an immediate and prolonged dive. He's not treating Renfield like a person. And for all he's veered dramatically towards seeing him as a potential threat in the past, he's not treating him like one either here.

It's something he absolutely should not be doing in any way. And yet... he wants to know, so he's doing it. Just like he wanted to see if Renfield would respond to better bribery, so he just casually stepped over the line he'd drawn to offer him a cat. Even if he never intended to actually deliver on that offer, making it was cruel and showed his morals aren't really affecting his decision-making much at all right now. And that's only further proven by the release-and-catch plan. Sure, he doesn't actually intend for Renfield to really get away (they'll be right there to catch him) - but that's already going way, way too far.

Seward doesn't mention his own sleep this entry, but I wouldn't be surprised if he's not slept properly or even at all in days. Not that that's an excuse, but... I can't imagine he isn't sleep-deprived to hell during all this.

[katiekatdragon27]

BATTLEBLOCK THEATER FANS MY SIBLING (and I) POSTED THE SECOND CHAPTER OF THEIR FANFIC ON AO333333!!!

Stamper's Stupendously Stressful Story - Chapter 3 - rainbowwolf120 - BattleBlock Theater [Archive of Our Own]

Also, I'm currently in the works designing some of the main characters and how they look. This one in particular is the big scary cat that drags Stamper to the stage. He's one of my current favorites <33

If anyone has any questions about the fic or anything, feel free to ask @rainbow-wolf120 and/or I and we'll answer👍

Have a lovely day ^^

[fastcardotmp3]

wip wednesday thursday weekend!

tagged by the stupendous @figthefruitfaeth & @fragilecapric0rnn <3

rules

In a reblog (or new post w/ rules attached), post up to five (5) filenames of your WIPs; not titles, file names.

Post a snippet from one of them. Snippet must be words you wrote in the last 7 days. We’re posting progress here. If you haven’t made any, go make some and come back to post!

After you’ve posted, people can send you an ask with one of your file names. You must then write 3 sentences in that file. If the filename is one you can't share from (for example, an event fic), write 3 sentences on it anyway, and then 3 more on another to share.

That’s it! You can invite others to join in, or just post. If you tag me in your post, I will send you an ask request!

wips:

daniel (sorta) lives au - 911, buddie + madney

kas!chrissy (finale!)

bear au

snippet (from the new 911 fic bc apparently i don't have it outta my system yet):

“So, you’re with her, then?” Eddie nods towards the still ongoing conversation. All he gets is a frustrated and harsh exhale of a sigh in response. “You more a guard dog or a prison warden?”

And that earns him the sharpest look yet, actual fight behind the eyes rather than just a blank wall of strength. Eddie lifts his brows in question, unperturbed by the insolence he’s being met with. 

“Brother,” he snaps, all indignation and almost spitting with it. “Not that it’s any of your business.”

Eddie hums in acknowledgement, crosses his arms over his chest and looks back through to the locker room just in time to see Chimney, back to them and face out of sight, still say something loud with his body language as he unsteadily lowers himself to sit on one of the benches. 

“Well, you can stand down, brother,” Eddie says, even as he shares a look with Hen across the way, nods her on as she makes moves towards the locker room just in case. “Chimney’s a good man.” 

“They always are,” he mutters, under his breath like it’s not intended for an audience, but Eddie is standing close enough that all of it is for his consumption too, no matter the steps taken to hide it.

tagging! (with zero pressure and one trillion million love): @judasofsuburbia @cheatghost @kkpwnall @snowangeldotmp3 @starryeyedjanai @yourbestclothes + anyone who wants to join!