#i know we had a limited run time and a lot to fit in a small space but this just seems unnecessary

[acewizardinspace]

At times I wonder why Anakin was written as a slave. Like I don't get George's decision here. His childhood has basically no relevance on the rest of the story.

He is never shown to have ptsd or other issues from this upbringing. Not to say this headcanon is bad, quite the opposite actually, this headcanon makes more sense than what we get. But the reality is this headcanon just isn't shown in the films.

So why make him a slave at all? If you wanted to play into the trope of a 'poor boy becoming an unlikely hero', you didn't need him to be a slave for that. He could have just been from a poor family.

It almost feels like George just wanted a reason he was forced to leave his mother behind. Which I feel like could have been done in other ways because even her slavery is basically written off and not made a big deal out of.

Why wasn't Anakin the son of a poor single mother who couldn't afford to take care of both of them or something? Maybe she didn't want to leave the rest of their family but wanted him to have a better future. Him being a mechanic/pod racer can still be explained by the family being so poor even Anakin, as a child, had to work.

George has said that if Anakin had been raised in the temple like other jedi children he wouldn't have these issues with attachment and wouldn't have fell. Which, okay, cool, that makes sense. But if that was the case why did he barely have his childhood come up in the story? Why wasn't his childhood as a slave an important character detail that kept coming up in the following two films?

Idk, I love the prequels so much, I think they are great! But this writing decision makes me scratch my head because I feel like so much more could have been done with it. And if he didn't want to engage with the consequences of slavery, why did he put them in their in the first place?

(To be clear this is a doylist analysis not a watsonian one. I am not looking for in universe discussion or explanation but exclusively examining writing decisions. Why did Lucus write the story this way? What was he trying to accomplish? Did he succeed? Could that same goal be better executed differently? Ect.)

[rumble-aint-a-rumble-without-me]

Dallas Dating A Curtis!Reader

Buckle up buttercups, this is gonna be fun!

As always, to fit the age bracket, you’re either Soda’s twin, or you were born between Sodapop and Ponyboy

Pick and choose as you see fit, but I’m definitely seeing more opportunity for a Sodapop’s twin sibling-

Anywayyyssssssss

Lemme set the stage a little bit, alright? Cause there’s a bunch of ideas floating around in this brain of mine-

You’ve had a crush on Dal for the longest time and I mean the longest time- ever since he stumbled in with that stupid white blond hair and that stupid New York accent and that stupid little attitude of his- you’d been head over heels

And low and behold, Dallas had been nursing a few feelings for you as well, hiding them a little better than you had been

So of course, y’all flirt and mess around and all the rest of the boys are a little suspicious but you and Dal both deny that there’s anything between the two of you

That changes a few weeks before the Curtises die, you and Dallas go on an official date down to the nightly double (he timed it with your favorite films cause he’s romantic like that) and bada bing bada boom, y’all are dating

But it’s a secret and no one knows but here comes the funeral and you’re holding Dallas’ hand through the whole thing, crying into his shoulder and he’s cradling the back of your head and everyone knows there’s something up

Darry doesn’t like it- not even a little bit- he doesn’t love that you’re dating Dal one smidgeon of a bit

He likes Dal well enough, he’s got to, they’re in the same gang, but like- he knows Dallas well enough too to know that maybe this isn’t the best thing

Dare’s biggest concern is your heart and whether or not Dal’s gonna break it by doing something stupid like fooling around with someone else or getting hauled in for something big and leaving you alone forever

Sodapop’s a little more okay with it? But he’s still a little hesitant, especially when Dally likes to get a little more physical than he needs to

*cough cough* kissing you way past decent under the porch light when he’s dropping you off at home after a date, sliding his hand into your back pocket to keep you close, just generally being Dal and pushing the limits of what is publicly decent *cough cough*

But!

Where the real fun is located is with our dear darling Ponyboy!

It’s canon, I’m pretty sure and I’m pretty confident after reading the book fifty million times, that Ponyboy “doesn’t like” Dally and thinks he’s kinda scary

But at the same time, we all know that boy looks up to Dally too and Dally has a soft spot for him

I’m seeing like- Ponyboy and Johnny and Dallas hanging out, just the three of them, and Dal’s trying to be all nonchalant and stuff, smoking casually as he tries to ask Ponyboy about how you’d like certain things

Dally tries to subtly run almost all his date ideas past Ponyboy before he takes you out because yeah, he really does like you, and sometimes he’s just a little unsure of himself with how much he cares about you

Now. When he gets hauled in, and we know it’s going to happen, let's be honest with ourselves folks, when he gets hauled in, his phone call is going to go to the Curtis house

He’s gonna ask for you and he’s gonna apologize for having to be gone for so long

If I was you? I’d cry, I’d scream, I’d be angry and sad and frustrated because why does he keep making stupid decisions?

But I’m gonna tell you this-

Putting up with stupid decisions and working through tough times like this? It’s gonna be a lot of the relationship, and it’s gonna be pretty prominent in your time with Dally

If that’s not for you? Then maybe, maybe it won’t work out

But that’s alright too! All the more for me :D

[moondirti]

animalic (4)

← chapter three // series masterlist

pairing: miguel o'hara x f!reader rating: mature word count: 2.5k summary: things don't go according to plan warnings: enemies to lovers, light bondage, sexual tension, arousal, choking, canon-typical violence, dub-con elements, paralysis, suicidal ideation, self-hatred, angst, miguel o'hara is not nice, no use of y/n notes: y'all. i promise we are getting somewhere. i promise. lmk what you think tho cuz i thrive off comments

“Lyla?”

While you’re – regrettably – unable to make good on your promise to phase through the floor, you catch yourself hoping it splits to swallow you whole instead. It certainly would be a better alternative to the purgatory you currently face. 

“Lyla? Come in, Lyla.” 

Feeble rays of light filter in through the weathered windows, their reach slowly growing as night surrenders to the wakings of dawn. Variegated motes bob lazily, suspended upon the streams of sun, quivering back and forth between a range of countless colours. Paralysed and splayed atop the frigid, hard ground of the empty store-lot, you try counting them all for lack of anything else to do. Pink, green, orange, gold. You wonder what force chooses the order, whether it’s sequenced to fit some plan of high design. 

“¡Ay, coño–”

Slowly, you let yourself scrutinise other things, too. The scent of neglect that permeates the stale air, particularly pungent around the entryway. You trace the yellow-brown mass that runs along the door’s hinge edge, and attribute the vaguely muddy smell to rot. Then, it’s the glint of shattered glass, winking at you from lost corner’s of the room. They look narrow, far too inconvenient to clean out with a standard broom. You revel in the understanding that whoever had been in charge of scouring the wreckage appears to share your habit of quick quitting.

It’s only when your vision begins to water do you divert your attention to the situation at hand. Last you needed to blink, it took half a minute for the command to register, and even longer for the motor neurons in your eyelids to act. By the time you eventually got them closed, you’d already started contemplating whether his venom would be the death of you. 

(Lame end to a lame life.)

It didn’t take a genius to figure out, though. You know that, if he wanted to, he could’ve kept imbuing you with the substance until your body was no longer able to perform the basic mechanisms necessary to sustain life. He could have kept his fangs lodged deep into your neck – encroached upon your stuttering veins, bathing in the ichor that flowed – until he felt you go limp, concentrated with his poison. It would have been a denouement to his problems – right there, easy, sandwiched between him and the wall – but it wasn’t. Because he didn’t. 

Just like he didn’t let you plummet to your death that day at the quarry, or strangle you while you were unconscious back at HQ. 

So, no. It doesn’t take a genius to acknowledge that Miguel O’Hara doesn’t want you dead. As he fiddles with his malfunctioning watch, you endeavour to come up with a divisive list as to why that is. 

One: you’ve charmed him. The notion is almost funny enough to elicit a snort, given that you weren’t cast in an immovable anathema.

Two: he’s a good guy. Somehow, this option seems less viable to you than the first. 

You find your third prospect slinging from the threads of a fraying memory. 

You’d been a student, before – attending college at a reputable institute close to home. It’s easy to forget what it was like most nights: cramped in that two hundred square foot dorm, borderline losing it as you tried to validate your claims on matter-antimatter rockets and their potential contribution to interstellar travel. There were concerns of total annihilation, and sourcing, and an array of other limitations – that which you’d dedicated your academic career to drawing up proposals for. It’s laughable now; the stress and theories blurring together to form a vague picture of your long-lost ambition. 

You have a hard time conjuring what exact future you were so hopeful for, but the lamp by your roommate’s bed remains clear in your mind’s eye. Warm-white, comforting. For as long as you were awake, tapping away at a never-ending thesis, she’d work through the latest volume of her beloved murder mystery anthology. 

It was the night before your start at an internship with Alchemax that the series came to a close. Her aggravated screams still ring fresh behind the clouded pane of time. You had thrown your pillow at her in a belligerent plea.

(You wanna elaborate?

The suspect behind every case was shot!

So? Isn’t that a good thing?

No, dumbass. It means the detectives fucking lost! They’ll never be able to prove how right they were.)

Admittedly, you know very little about Miguel, but you have an idea of what matters most to him. It’s entirely possible, then, that he refuses to kill you for what your death would do to negate his efforts thus far. 

“Oye,” 

Your mental traipse is reeled in when the devil himself snaps at you. Steadily, your pupils roll up to look at him. 

“I need your day pass.” 

You continue to stare. His jaw clenches. 

“Because of your little headbutt outside, my watch is busted. My only hope of fixing it is by using the parts of your day pass.” 

Is he asking? Does he expect you to respond? 

You can’t fool yourself into believing he’s that ignorant. 

But Miguel stays on standby, scanning your lax form. He takes in the webs that wrap around your waist, branching out to your thighs and shoulders, restraining your arms behind your back. When his eyes meet yours again, the reluctant question you see glaze over them pushes the recognition to the forefront of your mind. 

He is asking. 

Or, notifying – making sure you’re aware of what he’s about to do. 

God, you wish you could speak. You’ve never come up with so much to say without promptly blurting it out before. Irritation and amusement rip at one another within you, locked in a brutal dogfight fated to have no real winner. How hypocritical of him to pick and choose when your treatment takes priority over his mission; you’re littered in marks that all point to his prior negligence of such subtle humanity. Four stabs above your wrist, a pounding migraine at your temple. If it weren’t for your paralysed stomach, you’re certain you would have regurgitated your innards as consequence to the concussion he’s given you.  

But, oh. 

How funny would it be if you agreed. To let him discover the harrowing truth for himself. 

Deliberately, you muster an affirming blink.

Miguel's weariness escapes him in a heavy sigh, the weight of it etched upon his expression. Thick brows furrow, evidence to his age creasing between them, before he sinks down with a purposeful grace and carefully flips you over. Despite the resentment that festers in your gut, you can’t help but hiss a mental sigh of relief at the service it does to your elbows, which had begun throbbing in response to the pressure that the hardwood floor exerted.

From that point onward, it becomes a guessing game of sorts; you can’t see him, nor are you able to tilt your head and confirm your assumptions as to what he’s doing. Deprived of your most reliable sense, the others strain to fill the gaps in your knowledge, drawing upon every available cue; the sound of his miniscule grunts, the warmth of his skin – that which penetrates through his gloves. You’re alarmed into attempted action when the characteristic rip of his claws equipping pierces the strained air – your body powerless in addressing the adrenaline it secretes – until the spider-man touches his forefinger to your palm.

“Relax.” He all but commands. “I’m just cutting the webs off.” 

You’ve no reason to trust him, of course, but you can’t exactly pitch a complaint right now. 

(Perhaps it’s in your best interests to ignore how easy he’d been able to read you.)

A few moments of jostling ensue, before he withdraws with a curse. Your arms remain ensnared in the tight restraints, the ache that smarts your skin all too real for the continued predicament to be illusory. An assortment of jokes occur to you. 

Can’t get it up? 

In your peripheral, you catch him weighing his options. The pause is laden with a sticky indecision – this change in placement, you realise, exacerbates the already difficult task of breathing for you. 

While you fixate on that fact, he seems to come to a conclusion. With one swift manoeuvre, he positions himself astride your thighs, straddling the deadened extremities, and reaches forward to push your wrists apart. You’re quick to catch on to his intention, how the arrangement gives him better leverage, yet–

His groyne presses into the swell of your ass, worsening with every bid to sever the webbing. It’s impossible not to notice, especially not when the seam of your jeans start to shift in tandem, smoothing over your clothed core.  It’s not exactly ecstasy, far from it — no rainbow blooms, tingling gold from your toes to your nose – but it’s been ages since you were last roused like this. Enough for it to feel brand new, a wrapped curse in a prim little bow, eager for all that you shouldn’t be. 

And… Christ– 

And then he unfastens the lines around your arms, and runs his hands up your skin. It’s not gentle, nor is it brutish, but you can feel his desperation escalating. His touches grow progressively antagonistic, kneading your palms up to your shoulders, patting down to the shallow pockets of your pants. You’re searched like you hold the key to his success – you suppose that, in some oddly comical way, you do. And it should be upsetting, blasphemous. 

But you’re no sacred thing. You’d laid down that possibility a long time ago. 

No. You’re foul, questionable at your best, and erupt into goosebumps over the ruthless grip of a man who hates your very soul. You’re a deeply detestable spirit, truly, but a detestable spirit who has just managed to get one up on Miguel O’Hara. 

He throws you back around, wrapping his hands around your throat. His snarl is primal, maturated in acrid anger. 

“Where is it?” 

You’re sure that, in some alternate reality, your face is stretched in a shit-eating grin. 

“Where’s the fucking day pass?” 

Your satisfaction is short-lived. 

You’ve never been one to notably detest humiliation. It’s productive – healthy, even – in smaller doses; a fitting consequence for those who you deem deserve it. Yet, as you find yourself unceremoniously hoisted over Miguel’s shoulder, forced into a meandering parade through the streets of New York, you breach into uncharted territory – a threshold where your tolerance encounters its breaking point. 

He makes no effort to soften his strides, unmoved by the idea of providing even a shred of respite for your susceptible self. If anything, it feels as though he deliberately seeks out the harshest terrain, silently chastising your earlier defiance in the most passive aggressive manner known to man. He’d reinforced your constraints before marching out on this fruitless venture, and now you bobble uselessly, backside pointed upward, anchored solely by the meaty arm around your knees. 

At least you’ve regained control of your mouth. 

“D’stroyed it. Gone. Dearly d’parted–” 

“If you’re going to run that little mouth, then make it helpful.” 

“M’bein’ helpfoo,” you start, straining your weakened vocal cords in an effort to mock him. The grip of paralysis may have slackened its hold, but neurotransmission remains at an all time, sluggish low. In all actuality, it astounds you that he can even begin to decipher your words from the tangled murmurs they become. 

“You had it on at the convenience, and a little bit afterward. You can’t expect me to believe that you dealt with it while running for your life.”

Running for your life. Sure. 

Displeasure sparks at the confidence he imbues in his assumption.

“Escoos m– hnngh–” A sudden jump of stress robs you of breath, your stomach plummeting alongside the rapidly distancing ground. As Miguel propels himself above the city skyline, effortlessly evading the crowded streets via a web he’d grappled to an adjacent building, you’re confronted with a stark reality – that this is the very first time you have ever, and likely will ever, experience what it’s like to swing. 

It’s exhilarating and nauseating all at once, gravity relinquishing its command as you transcend the confines of the physical, soaring through some reality where law loses significance. If it had been you, your arms and skill and jurisdiction, you’d never come down. But maybe that’s why it isn’t; maybe your life was meant to lead up to this, and only ever this. 

(Not antimatter technologies or heroic conquest. Yeah, this feels more fitting.) 

Your skin prickles. You phase through the sturdy frame that’s held you up so far, and plummet from its grasp.

Slicing through the boundless sky, you’re accompanied by a profound tranquillity. It isn’t absolute – fear still gnaws at your core, its presence undeniable. But, amidst the churning horror, your instincts are fainter than they ought to be. They whisper in a subdued tone, overshadowed by conflicting conceptions. One, being the inference you’d drawn earlier about how – whether you like it or not – Miguel would not let you die. 

Another, quieter suspicion hints toward the full reality of your… relief.

Though, of course, you’re right about the former. Tree-trunk biceps wrap around your waist, pulling you close as he slingshots off to a nearby rooftop. You flop into him, a ragdoll to the overwhelming force of his agitation, and squeeze your eyes shut at the hints of patchouli permeating from under his mask. 

You don’t have to face the gospel just yet.

“¿Qué mierda? Eh?” He shouts, propping you up against a ledge. “What the fuck was that?” 

You don’t have an answer for him. Your heart lurches, catching up to the urgency at hand, striking on the hollow bars of your ribcage to some reckless tune. It’s only amplified by the torrent of blood distending through your system, throbbing at your temple, rushing by your ears. 

What the fuck, indeed. 

He damns you, it seems, with a fervour that breaches the heavens, as if willing God Himself to commit his plea to eternal memory. Or not; truthfully, you can’t tell. With the roar of your own snowballing thrill, it becomes impossible to discern the sequence of interrogations that explode from him. The world around you fades to the background, your preoccupancy consumed by the disquietude it leaves in its wake. 

Your sense is only validated a minute later when, two blocks away, an ear-piercing shriek ruptures your dissociation. 

Miguel stiffens, slowly turning to face its source.

𝘛𝘏𝘌 𝘈𝘙𝘈𝘊𝘏𝘕𝘖-𝘏𝘜𝘔𝘈𝘕𝘖𝘐𝘋 𝘗𝘖𝘓𝘠-𝘔𝘜𝘓𝘛𝘐𝘝𝘌𝘙𝘚𝘌 𝘋𝘈𝘛𝘈𝘉𝘈𝘚𝘌:

Earth-15 – analysed, marked as closed. 

Spider-totem – The Spider: soon after being bit by his radioactive spider, convicted felon Peter Parker merged with Earth-15’s variation of the carnage Symbiote.

Notes – do not engage, at any cost. 

chapter five →

follow @moondirti-archive and turn on post notifs to be alerted of future updates!

[becausegraf]

So... Gulool Ja Ja and his troubled eldest

Some musings on why the Dawnservant, social skills-powerhouse, observant and transparent and trustworthy and capable and responsible Gulool Ja Ja

seems to have massively dropped the ball when it came to, you know...

preventing his own only biological child from turning towards murderous self-destructive supervillainy.

Gulool Ja Ja's biggest, most tragic failure in my understanding is that when it comes to Zoraal Ja specifically, he has a blind spot, and I think he knows it but he can't fix it.

I mean, what do you think is the ONE area that, unfortunately, he truly has nobody, not a single person in Eorzea, he can seek experienced, trustworthy counsel on?

It's being born a Blessed Sibling, living as a Blessed Sibling, Ruling as a Blessed Sibling, and raising a Son Of A Blessed Sibling who doesn't have two heads and will grow up facing extremely vicious treatment by some people as a consequence.

Zoraal Ja is unique, and the complications that come with being what he is in this cultural context are SMACK in the hazard zone of Gulool Ja Ja's own vulnerabilities and struggles.

Gulool Ja Ja's flying blind on this one, and his son's temperament is precisely the sort that his usual tools aren't a good fit for.

Papa's style is to give his children space, let them make their own decisions, to invite them to seek help and give them everything they could ask for in their environment to support them when he cannot.

Zoraal Ja's issue is one that would have required Gulool Ja Ja to be much more confident in his capacity as his parent than he seems to have been. He needed to see clearly that his son was struggling and that under his circumstances, he couldn't just ask for help, and ACT ON THAT OBSERVATION. Asking for support is not something that comes naturally to Zoraal Ja, and I can see a dozen reasons why he would actively avoid it, too.

'Kiddo, something's bothering you and for your own good, we need to talk or have you open up to someone else before this causes you great harm, and I will be accountable for this happening whether you're happy to cooperate or determined to run away from it. We're gonna figure this out, okay?'

That's the initiative it would have taken, at a much, much earlier point in time, for Zoraal Ja to have gotten the support he needed. He needed his parent to see the danger and protect him from it.

Gulool Ja Ja, through no ill intent or inate fault of his own, simply failed in that.

He doubtlessly has his own hangups, painful topics, things that drive even him to look away and lie to himself. Even if he had the amazing instinct of compensating for a shitton of his own flaws and limitations by cooperating with others that had what he lacked, again, in this one regard

literally nobody in existence

would have any sort of experience with this particular complexity, let alone the keen eye to identify Gulool Ja Ja's massive blind spot AND take the initiative to reach out to him and offer aid.

He and Zoraal ja both are masters at hiding their pain (these chicken dudes are a lot like cats, apparently), and both have pretty compelling reasons to do so. There aren't many people that would

a) care about them personally enough to even decide something needs fixing

b) have the emotional insight to detect what's going on and empathize with the exact problem

c) be the kind of person who could think of a suitable way to help without making a mess

d) have the guts to prod at their personal life without being asked to do so, and avoid getting shown the door immediately

In a sense, Gulool Ja Ja's unique circumstances, the rare thing that DISconnects him from others with no overlap with others anywhere, is his Achilles heel, his one fatal weakness in a person otherwise dipped in invulnerability.

And Zoraal Ja is the arrow that came for it, and it makes my heart break for the both of them.

(This gets a little personal for me, too, in the sense of 'my parents are so capable and smart and empathetic, they're so admirable and competent with everything and everyone EXCEPT WITH ME, for SOME reason, what the FUCK is wrong with me'. Nothing, my issues were just too much like their own issues, which isn't my fault and not theirs either.

Tell ya what, it's really weirdly painful to be in such a position as a kid, caught between love and admiration on one hand, and burning frustration and resentment and shitty self-esteem on the other.)

[misfitgirlwrites]

Doe Deputy (A Self-Hired Secretary!) | Alastor x Imp!Reader

I wanted to get this out around this time, I'm proud of myself! Here's the deal, guys:

You’re a mischievous bean and why would you not take the perks of working for a scary Overlord?

These are headcanons based off of some stories I have already written with my own character :) I hope you guys enjoy them! I'll most likely have more with this whole secretary thing I have going on

Be sure to join my giveaway while you still can! Want a personalized self-insert with a Hazbin or Helluva Boss character? Come enter! It ends July 4th!

I give you the goods now, lads, please enjoy!

CW: Mentions of violence, mentions of cannibalism (?)

a/n: I couldn't make it a bulleted list? I love it here y'all

🖤 I'll take a step into actual author territory, guys. This is pre-season one. I'm talking Alastor's full infamy in Hell

❤️ And there you were after getting fired from quitting your most recent job, taking the walk of shame home to your...decent-ish apartment that you suspect you wouldn't have for much longer

🖤 You needed a solution. You're willing to work for it, of course, but you still had a time limit

❤️ Rumors were going around that a bit of charity work and a promise of good behavior could get you a stay with the Princess of Hell, but charity work was more of a last resort for you

🖤 Finding a nice Overlord that could hand out some work, however...

❤️ It was the best idea you've had since you've been in Pentagram City

🖤 You didn't need a pushover, and you wanted to like who you were working with so that cut out a lot of candidates

❤️ Before you gave up on the idea completely, you heard the static of a radio faintly from someone's house and it reminded you of one candidate

🖤 It would require work and patience, but you weren't taking no for an answer!

❤️ Well, you didn't necessarily ask the Radio Demon, honestly

🖤 You began tailing him when you could and when it was safe to do so

❤️ Large crowds and far as ALL RINGS away

🖤 You didn't want any stumbles or mistakes that led to your little Hellish life going bye-bye

❤️ You had to know at least a little about him before you could really get things started

🖤 Was he a tea or coffee person? Did he like alcohol? Drugs? Just straight murder? (It's looking like just straight murder. You should search up torture methods)

❤️ It was easy for you to blend into crowds and walk right past the demon; he catches on that you're tailing him a lot but you've been evading powerful hell-born demons your whole life

🖤 We all love a liiiittttlllleeee one-up

❤️ You learn of his diet...how much can you judge, you guess?

🖤 Alastor is particular too, he picks his meat up from the same place at least two to three times a week

❤️ The first part of your plan begins

🖤 Dress nicely, a black below-the-knee pencil skirt or black dress pants, either a black or red (any shade) button-up with black or red (or both) dress shoes or heels

❤️ It's time to pick up Alastor's meals for the week! Much better than making multiple trips, right? He's a very busy Overlord ❤️

🖤 You'd waltz in as confident as possible "Hiya! Uh, name's _____. I'm here to pick up Alastor's venison for this week. Figured it'd be better to store in bulk."

❤️ Rosie would tilt her head and stare down at you, "...who are you, dear?"

🖤 "Right! I'm kinda doing a trial run as his secretary! I'm implementing some of my own ideas that I hope will be improvements on how he already moves."

❤️ Now you're nervous. You have no idea how Rosie could respond but you do know you're in fucking Cannibal Town so the only thing you can do is shoot Satan a quick prayer and show off your sharp smile

🖤 You're relieved when Rosie literally lights up, a large smile grows on her face as she clasps her hands together, "he finally took my advice, did he? And here I thought the bugger would never do it!"

❤️ You nodded, "I think this will be a good fit for me! I hope you can agree since you'll be seeing me weekly instead. I moved your hangouts to the end of the week in case the boss likes a drink here and there."

🖤 "A wise decision. You're doing great already if I have any say. Here, I'll grab what you need!"

❤️ Mission fucking SUCCESSFUL

🖤 Now was Alastor happy finding stacked containers of venison outside of his plate with a note?

❤️ The safe answer was no by how he was searching like a beast on the hunt. Luckily you didn't stay where he could see you

🖤 Next is the fun part and if you did this right, you'd be talking to the Radio Demon about this job position very soon

❤️ You knew of The Vee's. Alastor and Vox were never quiet with their quarrels. Why not take this as an opportunity?

🖤 An opportunity to weigh your options a bit if you want to be real. You could simply apply and most likely get the position

❤️ It took one bump in with a very cute spider demon to fill you in on Valentino and your weighing ceases lmao

🖤 Back to the original plan or as you like to call it:

💙 Mission: Blow Vox's Fuse for Money 💙

❤️ It was simple enough, really. The only part to worry about was security

🖤 But you're one of the best at slipping past guards and cameras

❤️ You really got a kick out of your handiwork

🖤 You even dropped off a picture to Alastor as a little warning 💅🏼

❤️ It was funny when you first thought about it and from the early morning power outage, you think you got your point across very well

🖤 Feeling proud of yourself, you decide tonight to go to your cozy roof hiding spot to see if you can get any new information

❤️ You were really getting into this job

🖤 You were so focused on writing down a schedule, that you didn't notice Alastor wasn't where you left him

❤️ "You're a very slippery thing, I must say."

🖤 Your pen stopped moving immediately

❤️ Because FUCK he was in too close proximity for this part of the plan

🖤 A cute way to say you were sure you were well hidden and he wasn't supposed to find you

❤️ So what could you do now? Speed up the plan and jump straight to your proposal? Or jump off the building and run for it?

🖤 And there you were, scrambling to climb over the ledge

❤️ Of course, you didn't make it very far. Your notebook and pen hit the ground as a black tendril wrapped around your torso and tightly might you add

🖤 "Because you've been so busy running around in my business, I'll give you one chance to explain yourself."

❤️ Truthfully because you've thoroughly entertained him now

🖤 Vox threw a complete tantrum and if he wasn't in front of you, he'd start chuckling at the thought of it again

❤️ "...So I figure all the sweet talk I had planned is out the window?" You'd ask.

🖤 "Absolutely."

❤️ Now or never was an understatement but you felt like this was better than being homeless in Hell

🖤 "I wanted to offer my services as a secretary. I think it'll do us both some good."

❤️ "What makes you think I need your assistance?"

🖤 "Need is a strong word, boss. I'm here if you want to focus on all the fun stuff while I arrange all the shows and bring the coffee for the Overlord meetings--I feel like they would appreciate the nice gesture from you, don't think so? While you're out being scary, I can promote your public image at the same time!"

❤️ "I don't need a secretary."

🖤 "Your good friend Ms. Rosie seems to have been telling you otherwise--"

❤️ The tendril holding you in the air tightened

🖤 You give Alastor a big smile and quickly apologize, "What I mean is this is Hell! Order me around and I'll do literally whatever you ask as long as you pay me."

❤️ "So what do you call this then?"

🖤 "A free trial. Wasn't this week just a little bit more relaxing?"

❤️ Alastor hated to admit it, but you weren't wrong. Rising to infamy was a very busy job and it would be easier to have someone else handle the background things

🖤 And you

❤️ You managed to tail him and learn base information to do all this without him knowing. Realistically he was standing in front of a good candidate

🖤 Rosie already met you (did you plan that??) plus nothing you did wasn't...not helpful

❤️ Alastor couldn't believe he was actually considering this

🖤 You hit the ground and let out a small "oof" before staring up at Alastor who was now pinching the bridge of his nose

❤️ "The actual trial starts Monday. We have a morning meeting to go to."

🖤 ...Yes.

❤️ YES!

🖤 Holy fuck! Hail Satan, you did it! Major pat on the back, you!

❤️ "Don't go getting all excited. I could change my mind at any time."

🖤 "Understood, boss!"

❤️ Alastor could get used to that

Taglist: @alastorssimp @saints-wrapped-in-plastic @dasimp777

Requests are open! If you'd like to be tagged in future Alastor or Hazbin Hotel content, please let me know! My asks and DMs are open to all!

[uh-oh-its-bird]

Offshoot of my "team Ro time travels to the founders era" post because @prinzgnomeovonchaos infected me with brain rot in the notes

So buckle in baby it's time for

Sakumo and babyKashi time traveling to the warring states ✨️

So first thing to get out of the way; Modern Hatake's and warring states era Hatake's do not hold up to the same standards.

The Hatake's during the states were a very small clan with a very big reputation. Hailing from Iron, they were an almost famous wild clan even all the way in fire country. Distantly related to the Inuzuka's but leaning more towards wolves than dogs.

They had a proper kekkei genkai and everything, unnaturally fast and strong, often born with some form of enhanced senses— be it smell, sight, taste, or even touch. Their white chakra fed into it, and they'd feed their chakra with diets of raw meat and the occasional light cannibalism during some special clan celebrations and rituals.

Unfortunatley Sakumo knows very little about the above because he was very young when his clan was pretty much all wiped out. He was raised by the only other survivor, his grandmother, who was pretty young herself when the clan got wiped, and unfortunatley was never all too concious of many of the rituals and traditions of her clan until it was too late.

Sakumo grew up to village standards and was mostly declawed because of it, and Kakashi is only doubly so. And with that dulling of all the different traditions and specific diets also came the slow fading of their bloodline limit, which was already pretty subtle if you didn't know what you're looking for.

Anyways moving on, and if you want more details for my headcanons ab warring states Hatake's vs modern standard Hatake's look at my other time travel post bc I talk ab it more there.

So Kakashi is like 6 (holy shit he's a BABY baby)

Google keeps giving me conflicting numbers for Sakumo's age at his death so we're just gonna shrug and say he's in his early 30's.

Then for the founders;

Madara (23)

Hashirama (23)

Izuna (19)

Tobirama (18)

Sakumo is staring at these guys going through it bc they are BABIES to him. And like look, he's used to working with or even occasionally under people much younger than him, but like. Oh man that's the shodai hokage. And he's like a toddler.

(He's a 23 year old man but Sakumo is kind of having a crisis so he can't register that)

So like. All the founders have major daddy issues, right? Like we can all agree that's plausible? I'm so sorry I just think it'd be *really fucking funny* if they look at Sakumo and just kinda. Yeah.

You know what I mean.

Anyways;

No idea how they got there!! This is set maybe a week before Sakumo offed himself but now he can't kill himself bc that'd mean abandoning Kakashi to the fucking warring states.

Kakashi fits the warring states standards alarmingly well actually. Honestly I think even for that time period he's still scarily young to be on the field. People are giving Sakumo looks like 'it's so hard what we've been forced to do to our children, the battles we've pushed them into, the things they've seen and done all too young'

Sakumo is going *hrrg.* and having a good long look in the mirror actually. Proper crisis, lots of guilt, Kakashi should not be out in the field this young and at least before he was mostly getting baby missions but now they're stranded in time and keep running head first into trouble.

I want Izuna and Kakashi to fight and even though Kakashi absoloutley should NOT win that battle I want him to win just so that Madara and Tobirama can make fun of him for losing to an actual child

Izuna is mortified he wants that brat DEAD

Uhh I have some more but I'm at work and actually hit post too early on this post so I had to come back to rush add all these edits bc I meant for it to stay a draft I could keep adding too later. So I'll just come add more later fr

[greeneyessmize]

Popping in here with more theories!

(Admittedly, some of these I had in a reply to another person's post, but I think they can stand on their own.)

I think Polin will end up across the street in the Featherington estate because I am pretty sure they are setting it up for Pen to have the first Featherington boy. (I am also hoping for twins with a girl first for the sheer drama of pissing off her sisters and annoying Portia because that means Colin and Pen will be straightening out the very shady Featherington estate and her power will be null & void. She could control Harry or Albion. She won't get any traction with Polin. It has also been indicated that the actress playing Prudence will not be back next season.)

That would mean we would see Polin potentially as much as Kanthony. Maybe more if it is Eloise's season since I am really hoping that Peneloise will be back up and running. I have read that the higher ups have referred to Penelope as the heart of the show. You can't remove the heart and keep moving forward at all well.

On that note, I also think that the LW reveal will be limited to the Bridgertons, the Queen, and a very small amount of other people. Losing the LW narration device is probably not something they are willing to do any time soon. Why mess with something beloved?

I also believe we are going to see at least a one year time jump if it is Eloise's season next. There has been no whisper about Marina so far, and for there to be Eloise and Phillip, there cannot be Marina. And there has to be time between Marina dying and Phillip and Eloise being together, even in a loveless marriage you cannot remarry immediately in that era. Having the twins still be so very young would eliminate a lot of Eloise's growth as a character, imho, because those kids take her on a wild ride.

It makes more sense to have Benedict go next. He is aimless this season and needs roots. The issue, though, is that facets of his story with Sophie are probably not going to make us like him much unless there are some big changes. The whole "be my mistress because you are too low born to be my wife" just gives me the full ick. If we can just get around that at the very least, I think we can move forward somewhat gracefully.

The beginning of Francesca's book could really fit in the spaces of both seasons, neatly around the edges. We know she loves John. But those of us who have read the books, we know the end destiny.

That's all I've got for now!

[uninformedartist]

What was the point expecting anything other than dry bones for Millie, Loona even. Vivienne going as far making this bloody long thread (post at the end) hyping people up what she's got in store for Millie when we all know how she writes. Anything written for Millie or Loona or whatever female character is not really for them. Everything written for them has to 1 tie somehow in to a male character & 2 whats written for them ultimately developes a male character more.

Two instances in the latest episode. First instance:

Loona and Millie finally interacting that doesn't have to do with work or saving the other 2 (dorks episode). And what was their conversation about...Moxxie. Millie asking her to look after him. Which understandable Millie feels she has a lot on her plate having to deal with both of them at the same time but it comes back to their "development" comes centered around a man & furthering their character.

Side tangent on how their "development" developing male character more:

From this whole thing of Millie taking a client job what I learned about Moxxie is that he does the businesses finances, he overworks himself so much he 'shuts down' in highly stressful situations especially when its beyond his control or limits, he regrets he didn't become a theatre critic.

What I learnt about Millie, she cares for Blitz & Moxxie (know this), she actually has some sort of relationship with Loona (kind of this but its logical she would have). What I learnt on Loona, she's caring dispite her tough put on persona (definitively know this), she's smart as she picked up Moxxie didn't calculate properly (didn't know this but never doubted her intelligence really).

I learnt 3 new things about Moxxie and Millie & Loona just more examples of things I already know about them because it was said about them or things I never doubted they had already naturally.

Second instance:

Millie's backstory. Her whole backstory only came about because of Blitz, because of his hallucinations she brought up her backstory as a means of comfort to HIM.

Breaking apart her backstory, yeah she doesn't owe Blitz shit nor should apologise for this:

Blitz who we seen throughout the series has done a lot of respecting towards her and her husband.

Listing the "respecting" and not a full list only what I remember

*Episode 1 constantly mistreating and physically hurting her husband, end of the episode going as far making a rape threat towards both of them.

*Episode 2 having explicit sexual fantasies about the two of them at work knowing they've in a monogamous relationship & they established that firmly.

*Episode 5 constantly invalidates her husband in front of her & her family, doesn't show him an ounce of respect ever here.

*Episode 7 stalks them on a date the two of them planned, even after Moxxie verbally told him not to, he disregarded their boundaries in all regards

And so on and so forth so this line girl no.

You cannot establish multiple times Blitz was nothing but a piece of shit towards them then all of a sudden flip it that he actually saved her, gave her a good life ect and then have her say sorry dispite all previously established in show.

Aside, also good luck to her on career, a future in the long run. Millie your pension benefit is gone

💀✋

I know this show runs on having you "forget" what was previously established because its written like a bad fanfic but come on now its getting really ridiculous.

Vivienne YOU don't understand Millie or rather want to understand her more, only when you do is to when it comes to building your male characters more and just like the previous episodes, she fit the bill nicely developing Moxxie and Blitz further, Blitz more so. No amount of solid writing in this episode from Brandon and Waters can save the mess that is before this episode.

So this whole hype thread of hers was absolute nonsense, Millie sigh may you shine bright in the actual fanfics.

[deramin2]

I was quite surprised that we didn't get the angry fight of Bard's Lament in The Legend of Vox Machina Season 3 because that's one of my favorite parts. But I think I understand why from the perspective of writing for a new audience in a different medium: Scanlan's growth arc in this series has been a lot healthier than in the AP and centered on wanting to be a better and less selfish person. It was an upward trajectory, not a downward spiral. Which I think worked way better for the emotional objectives of this series in limited time.

Bard's Lament came after Scanlan got more and more into his own head through self-loathing, pushed his friends away, started using Suude, and just tore himself to pieces feeling unappreciated and unloved, in part because he didn't love himself. All of which came to a head in that shouting match.

It was a very self-centered fight, and honestly a pretty shitty way to treat Kaylie as well as his friends, in many ways looking to have her fix him more than him work on himself.

It was dramatically juicy and great in the AP, but compacting the story meant there wasn't time to develop all that without it just coming across as muddled and incoherent, especially in contrast to everyone else's journeys and the show's thesis. Including its focus on women's agency. Plus they didn't know if they'd get a Season 4 to develop the rest of the story and that would have been an aweful place to leave his character.

So they took Scanlan in a different direction. He had a lot of doubts about himself and his place on the team and facing his fears and desire to run, but he worked to overcome them and become a better person. It showed the pull of him wanting to leave, and they did fight about it a bit in other episodes (especially with Vex).

So by the time they arrived at him waking up and wanting to leave for good, Bard's Lament didn't make sense narratively. Him leaving was still the catalyst for Vox Machina splitting up for the year. Which made the most sense to happen right after the dragons for the narrative tone. But Scanlan left on terms that showed a lot more emotional growth, and will make more sense to come back on instead of spending a lot of time rebuilding bridges.

Plus it's a lot more fair to Kaylie to have Scanlan leave with her so they could have a better relationship than the anger she started with. I don't think Legend of Vox Machina Kaylie would want to go worth a Scanlan who was doing it out of bitterness instead of growth.

So while I would have loved to see that that scene animated, I understand why they left it out. It didn't fit with the story they were trying to tell with limited time in a different medium that has its own narrative expectations. Plus, there's been a behind the scenes framing that The Legend of Vox Machina is the story as Scanlan told it later, and he would be far more likely to smoothe over his roughest patch so he and his friends come out looking better.

[glassbirdfeather]

Complaining about the final boss in Shadow of the Erdtree, both in terms of lore and mechanics. Spoilers for the end of Shadow of the Erdtree:

Part 1: The Lore

I think the ending is really good and foreshadowed well in it's own story. I think it is fitting and well told. But it isn't living in its own bubble. It exists in context to a previous story directly connected to it. In the context of the entirety of Elden Ring, it sucks.

If we were just dropped in the Shadow Realm and the main game didn't exist, it would be really, REALLY good. The problem arises when also having the context of who Miquella was in the base game. His motivations in the DLC retcon the motivations from the lore of the base game. And the retcon is worse. The thing that made him fascinating was that he was the only compassionate character among Marika's children, the only one who didn't care about petty power plays because he was focused on helping people and helping his sister. That it is revealed he is just as shallow and self-centered as the rest, so much as to be willing to endanger his sister in exchange for a consort after all the lore surrounding how he wanted to help her, takes away the facets that made him unique.

This may also contribute to why there are two general camps of people who like or don't like how Miquella is portrayed. There have been a couple of years between the original game and now. Memories of the original game's lore--if people even read those particular bits of item descriptions in the first place--have had time to fade.

However, I acknowledge that item descriptions in Elden Ring intentionally have author biases. It could be said that every Miquella-related item description was told from the perspective of someone bewitched. That would make a lot of sense.

So in the end, this also is a personal preference. I think that Miquella turning out to be a brat who will sacrifice his sister for his consort is much less interesting than him being motivated to do bad things for his sister.

This leads into the overlap between pure lore discussion and mechanics.

Part 2: I CAN'T FUCKING SEE

The last boss fight is shit. Part of what convinced people that the leaks were fake, not considering lore implications, is that many people looked at the attacks that were happening and judged them to be bad.

As someone with a passing understanding of editing animations and moves in a game, something that can be done with little modding skill to create a new enemy is to use existing animations and add new effects to them. People were convinced the fight was fake because of how many moves looked similar to ones from previous FromSoft bosses with lightning effects glued on. I cannot speak to the alleged copied animations in this fight, since I don't have experience with every FromSoft game, but I don't actually think reusing old bosses and animations is inherently a bad thing. The real complaint was that it looked to be both reused animations and extra effects.

Stretch new textures over existing enemies, increase the speed of their attacks, and then add events to those attacks that spawn a bunch of effects like explosions, or lightning bolts. These are all things I could do with my limited knowledge. These are the things that some mods have done, and have gotten ridiculed for. The ridicule is because doing that demonstrates a shallow understanding of what makes a fight not just hard, but fun.

I'm no master of boss design myself, but I can say with confidence that spamming incredibly long attack chains containing effects that blind the player and prevent them from seeing the next move in the chain is bad game design. Something that has been established as an unspoken but understood rule in souls-genre games is that you should be able to dodge an attack while standing point blank in front of the enemy. Whether this is by rolling, jumping, or running away, you know what's happening from seeing the start of the enemy's animation, and you should be able to escape being hit by the attack. I also argue that by this metric, Waterfowl Dance is a badly designed move, but I digress.

Waterfowl Dance is one move in an otherwise stellar boss fight.

In the DLC final fight, I. can't. see.

The screen is covered in lightning for at least 1/3rd of the battle, often making dodging a game of guess and hope. I 100% acknowledge that I was not good at that fight, and that many of the attacks that hit me were dodge-able if I'd learned them more. But some of them were chains of attacks that demanded I blindly learn a random rhythm of button presses. On account of all the lightning from the previous attack hiding the next swing.

One of the things I actually did like about the fight was the grab being a guaranteed 2HKO regardless of health values. It would have been a great gimmick on a better fight. Where I had a better probability of seeing it so I could dodge it.

I also liked the warp-in speed effects of the boss jumping in, although such warps felt very buggy.

Were the lightning effects transparent or otherwise did not obscure the battle so terribly, I wonder what kind of fight it would actually be. Maybe the attack chains only feel unreasonable to dodge to me because I cannot see what is happening in them. It is possible that the fight itself is just bad, and the lightning is, just like in a bad mod, being used as a crutch to hide a very boring, simple moveset.

But it is impossible for me, in the game's current state, to imagine how that fight might play.

Because I can't see shit.

Part 3: The Remembrance

Turning in the remembrance and a duplicate of it just to end up with a total of 3 Radahn swords I think really shows the lack of creativity under the lightning. That is what the essence of the DLC final boss distills down to: 2 variations of a sword we already have.

If the fight had been something COMPLETELY different, perhaps we would have gotten something interesting from Miquella's side of the pair. Something that bewitches a struck enemy? I don't know.

The last fight was a spectacle, but only due to all the fancy effects that it vomited everywhere. Remove them, and I suspect there exists an uninspired base.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

You might’ve already received an ask like this, but I think it’s interesting how similar Malleus and what we see of Maleanor(I think that’s how you spell her name) are. I mean they are mother and son they’re obviously going to be similar, but specifically I find it interesting that they have almost the exact same arrogance.

When reacting to the threat of the Silver Owls and S.T.Y.X’s forces respectively, both the previous princess and the current prince treat it like more of an annoyance than a real threat. The thought that they could genuinely lose doesn’t even seem to cross their mind, I mean in all fairness Maleanor does acknowledge the idea that she might lose but I doubt she really feels scared in the moment.

There isn’t much to this ask, I just think it’s interesting and might be some foreshadowing on how Malleus’ arrogance is going to lead to his downfall.

This isn’t exactly the same thing, but this ask also compares and contrasts Malleus with his mother under the scope of “maturity”.

Arrogance is a natural consequence of anyone having power, especially for a family as powerful as the Draconias. It often doesn’t occur to those at the top that they could fall from grace. In other cases, it’s ignorance as the result of never wanting and thus having a limited understanding of the world beyond their small insulated one. (This is the case for Kalim.)

I think the circumstances you described aren’t exactly equivalent so it’s somewhat limited to directly compare mother and son. Malleus already knows what Styx is (thanks to Lilia) and suspects they aren’t after him (because why would they be at this point in the story??). This is confirmed in one of Malleus’s dialogue lines: “No wonder they didn’t come after me.” Maleanor, meanwhile, is facing a significant foreign threat and knows she has a target on her back, since she leads the military forces. She also has a lot more riding on her shoulders if she fails, considering she has both her country and her newborn son to think about.

But I think your general point is still valid; Malleus and Maleanor are arrogant because their immense power affords them this luxury. It’s a vulnerability they share as mother and son, but I also think that they differ due to their ages and the eras in which they grew up.

Maleanor had to be strong and resilient because she lived in a period of time when mages (and fae in particular) seemed to still be feared. Malleus has a lot less life experience but he also lives in an era of relative peace. He does not need to be as alert as his mother was, and has yet to face any real national-level threat. Thus, Malleus is more arrogant because he has yet to be challenged to the same degree his mother was.

I would say that Maleanor is still arrogant (she clearly still feels comfortable making demands of Lilia and throwing fits when she doesn’t get her way), that much is true. However, she also has lived long enough to gain far more wisdom and experience than Malleus has. When you’re a child, you feel as though nothing can touch you. When you’re an adult (as Maleanor is), you’re aware of many more factors which could topple you.

We can’t be certain how she really felt about the Silver Owls storming her country, but I get the sense that Maleanor realized she was in danger and only put on a brave face because she’s such an important public figure. That’s where her arrogance comes in; she can’t afford to let that slip. If she shows weakness, it doesn’t exactly reassure her people, who are already very stressed. She has already seen many of her soldiers fall on top of her husband (someone whom she loves deeply) going missing. These are prominent reminders to her that fae, no matter how powerful or influential they are, can be ended. Maleanor also speaks in a manner which implies she is fully willing to make that ultimate sacrifice; she hands her child to Lilia and instructs him to guard her son in her stead, then casts a spell which prevents Lilia from running to her side to fight with her. It makes me feel like she knows she’s essentially marching to her death. She didn’t want to get her dear friend and son caught up in that, so she sent them on their way while she stayed behind.

So in a way, Malleus and Maleanor’s arrogance is paralleled rather than being the exact same. The inexperienced son is still riding the high of being untouchable, while the mother, knowing that her time had come, wasn’t willing to go down without a fight. Slightly different circumstances, as I’ve said—but it’s still interesting to see how the traits of the parent persist in their child, and how that may indicate how Malleus develops moving forward.

[loremaster]

happy belated mermay! i drew that final pic after i went with my family to the new england aquarium recently, and picked out something they had there for each of the nocturnal detectives - plus kurumi! more description (spoilers) under the cut:

kurumi - piranha! it fits her color scheme, and her little freckles… and well, you know *bites you*

yuma - emperor tetra. actually i lied this one wasn’t at the aquarium i had to look it up

yakou - anemone man. ouughhh so sillyyyy

desuhiko - tried to ID the guy I took a picture of and it looked closest to the crosshatch butterflyfish. could be wrong though.

halara, fubuki - i could not find the labels for either of these fish unfortunately

vivia - electric eel (yeah he’s there, look again)

———-

the mermaids were kinda based off these species, except fubuki changed to a betta fish. bred for glamour, not for function. she is out there living her best life tho!!! nothin gets this mermaid princess down!!!!

obviously squid shinigami (squidigami) is based off ursula. but also i liked her having squid tentacle hair. woomy!

i imagine it would actually be kind of a reverse ursula situation though (reversula?). poor unfortunate amnesiac yuma would go up to sea witch shinigami asking her for his memories back, but she reveals she was the one who took his memories in the first place, and they’ve actually already made a deal. which she’s not going back on, sorrynotsorry lol!!! of course he’s actually not a mermaid at all but a human under a spell to go investigate…. something underwater. idk. maybe the mystery labyrinths are still a thing in this universe?

vivia, i’m sorry to say, would be a hundred times more miserable than we ever see him in canon, because guess what. no books. he’d still have some sort of coping mechanisms like watching other fish, watching stuff above the surface of the water, wanting nothing more to join them and fly someday. (the dragonflies, of course, are a reference to the famous water bugs and dragonflies story.) he’d still find something to get distracted by… although if he had his forte he probably would ghost up to the surface and read whatever the humans are reading up above. i guess this would make him the real ariel of the story.

kurumi of course is still based on a piranha, because it’s cute. of course these fish shouldn’t all live together but whatever. it’s mermaids. she probably is still some kind of informant, and probably hangs out near yakou’s place a bunch.

i could see yakou running some sort of shop. or if he’s still into detective work, he’d probably need kurumi as an assistant since he’s uh. not much of a swimmer. (he claims he can too swim, but it’s really silly looking. google swimming anemone. you’ll thank me.) he considers those little teeny fish to be pests (or at least claims they are. they’re probably helping him hide some sort of secret in there.)

desuhiko is a wandering trader with a keen sense of fashion. he’s great at repurposing sunken sails into mer-clothing, not so great at making sales. also the fact that his hair is gelled is way more obvious when everything is underwater. he’s basically got a helmet.

halara of course puts up an intimidating front, but has a secret soft spot for cute sea creatures. i asked my irl friend what she’d consider ‘the cat of the sea’ and she said pufferfish. i do think they are very cute and make a lot of sense as an allergen. but i don’t think halara’s taste is limited to pufferfish only, no no no. they like anything cute.

fubuki has got to have been kept captive before the story - by humans? or other mermaids? but either way, now she’s free and having a blast exploring the deep blue ocean. she really wants to know what kind of exciting creatures live in the deep!!!

and that’s it. hopefully all this description makes up for being 2 days late to mermay LMAO. i guess now it’s merGAY

[gayf1hoe]

Turn 7 Nightamres

Scenario: Y/N has a serious crash that sends immediate flashback of Jules to Charles.

My favourite track has always been Suzuka but I think that has something to do with the fact that I love Japan itself and as I spent my childhood racing career being endorsed by Honda I spent a lot of time in Japan and surrounded by Japanese culture so I guess I've just become accustomed to it.

There is only light rain falling on track so my car is fitted with slick tyres which will either be a massive mistake or a massive success depending on how certain parts of the track are.

“Are you ready?” Charles says snapping me out of my pre race thoughts.

Despite racing for Ferrari he doesn't seem to mind standing under my bright orange McLaren umbrella that the team have given me for no reason.

“As ready as I could be I guess and you?”

“Ready as always”

Everyone thought me and Charles dating would never last long but 3 years on we are still going strong despite everything we have been through. My engineer comes over and tells me I have to get in my car so I say goodbye to Charles and wish him luck.

I'm starting P11 today as I was the fastest in quarrying yesterday but had a 10 place grid penalty for replacing something on my car. I have the home hero Yuki Tsunoda next to me on P10 and we give each other a little wave.

Charles is on pole today so he's quite a way in front of me, it's probably the furthest we have been from each other both in the race and in person in 3 years. We have basically been joined at the hip since we first met and started dating.

The usual feeling of adrenaline kicks in the second the 5 lights go out and it eradicates any sense of nerves I was feeling less than 2 seconds ago.

The first laps are going well and I have made up 2 places, and I now have Kevin behind me and he's getting really close and he accidentally or purposefully hits my rear and the next thing I hear my engineer say is:

“Puncture. Box, Box.”

Thankfully it happens right next to the pit entry so I dive into the pits and get a fresh set of tyres and go back out on track. I emerge back in P16 in front of Pierre and get to work again. But the rain is increasing more and more by the second.

I push the car well beyond its limits to make up some places and I manage to get up to P12 by lap 23 but the rain is increasing, my trick has been not putting my foot on the brake at all really until the last millisecond.

I approach turn 7 at 300kph when the typical approach to turn 7 is 280 Kph and I don't realise how much the racing line has become saturated with water and the next thing I know as I'm trying to decelerate I'm seeing the track from the air and that's where everything turns into darkness.

Charles POV:

“Red Flag. Red Flag. Delta positive.”

These words aren't much of a surprise as the track has been getting wet so I assume someone somewhere is stuck in the gravel trap.

“What's happened?” I ask.

“Y/N has had quite a big shunt in turn 7”

“What! Is he OK?”

“We are unsure his car his upside down and we haven't heard anything on the radio”

The second I hear that It floods my brain with memories of Jules. He crashed on the same track at the same corner in the same conditions.

“Charles please come into the pit lane and leave a 5 metre gap to the car in front”

“I'm not coming into the pit lane”

“Charles if you don't you will be fined and may be banned from participating in the restart”

“I don't care about that”

I arrive at turn 7 and I freeze. I see a bright orange McLaren upside down with parts of it scattered around. I turn off my car and sprint over.

I arrive just as the stewards and medical team are turning the car back on it's right side. I try to help but one of the stewards pushes me away. When the car is back on its right side I run over to the cockpit and lean in to try and get Y/N to respond, but his eyes are shut and his visor is shattered. I can see a small slither of crimson red blood falling by his eye.

The medic asks me to move out of the way and they begin to lift him from the car and place him on a stretcher. I jump in the back of the ambulance and immediately grab a hold of Y/N's hand and it's surprisingly warm despite the cold and wet conditions he had been racing in. They eventually pull off his helmet, as he has become a little more coherent. When the helmet comes off we can see he has a slight cut above his eyebrow where his visor snapped and scratched him but other than that he looks fine.

As we arrive at the medical centre he has started talking and is saying that he's fine and keeps on trying to move but it only results in him whining in agony.

“I'm fine you are all fussing over nothing” he says as the doctor attempts to take his blood pressure.

“Y/N we are going to take you to hospital for some scans to check for any internal injuries”

One of the doctors pulls me aside and tells me that he should be fine but as a precaution Y/N is going to have some scans. Meanwhile I tell the FIA I'm not interested in being at the restart and instead I'm going with Y/N. Ferrari didn't try and stop me because they knew nothing would stop me.

I feel relieved that he's fine and being his usual self, but I know he's still not out of the woods just yet.

I think it's safe to say me and turn 7 don't have the best history.

[vasyandii]

I love how just stupidly gorgeous AM’s bothers are ((I LOVE YOU RAM and SAM))

May I ask a few questions?

Do they have any hobbies?

Are they’re any spare parts if something breaks?

What’s their favorite color?

Would they look the same if they born human?

What’s their mindset like? Mentality ya know

:3 hope this isn’t too much

Howdy Anon, I'm glad you like their designs they're such bastards I love them. Thank you for the ask! :) 💞

Do RAM and CAM have hobbies?

Think of them as the two evil (I say evil but when has any corporate man been good?) CEOs of a corporation, but their corporation is the colony.

After the initial transfer of their consciousness along with repairing their bodies from literally exploding, they kind of.. lost the drive to want to torture humans because technically, they ARE humans now (Read more here). They luckily didn't have to learn to get used to senses since those bodies have been in use before.

To combat boredom, they released the 700 other bodies in cryogenic vats after some time. Why not? They basically run the place now, the colony is similar to earth, with some limitations. So running the Lunar colony is kind of like their shared hobby. It's busy work and it keeps them sane.

RAM has a lot more hobbies than CAM, always proactive, too many to list. CAM is work oriented to the point he NEEDS to get a hobby, but he enjoys cooking and drawing.

Are there any spare parts if anything breaks?

Yes and no, it honestly depends on each brother. RAM's legs can be easily interchanged and fixed because CAM was the one who designed them and humans do have Prosthetics similar to such. There are less components to RAM's body to worry about other than his ribs and ears.

CAM's jaw, while removable for cleaning, will be a PAIN IN THE ASS to replicate:

1. RAM was the one who designed the jaw.

2. It's made to specifically fit CAM's face, there's a lot of components that can fall out if neglected.

This goes the same with his arms (also removable but it hurts a bit more, plus it doesn't need to be cleaned so it stays in place.) specifically the hands since there's so many parts to account for, like each digit on his fingers, if they're bending correctly, etc.

What's their favorite colour?

"Black. "

"Neon anything."

Would they look the same if they were born human?

Who's to say? People don't usually know what they'll look like before they're born. If they were born human, that would imply that they would have parents, and then those parents have parents too! We can't really know for sure what they'd look like if they were born biologically human since both RAM and CAM chose their bodies, y'know? It's all a gamble. But let's hope that they do, because they're handsome :).

What's their mindset like?

RAM is extremely hedonistic. He's far more laid back than AM and CAM but also a lot more impulsive. He buys what can be bought because money means nothing to him, he sleeps around, he works out, he drinks, he smokes, he eats, he is ROWDY! His earthly experience is all about just having fun and occasionally checking in to work.

CAM has to keep his younger brother in line, they have a colony to run. CAM's never had so much fun just existing, he'd be devastated if it failed. He is so so stressed and tired all the damn time because of it;

"Samson, Yarek ran the car off into a ravine",

"Samson, my neighbors hate me" ,

"What? No we don't hate them, Samson!"

"Samson, the oxygen barrier is broken on the northern side of the moon."

"oop, nevermind it's actually on the southern side, sorry Samson."

"SHENGLI CAN YOU DO MY PAPERWORK I'M GONNA GO ON A DRIVE"

"SHENGLI, NOW DONT BE MAD, BUT I MAY HAVE DRIVEN THE CAR INTO THE POOL AND NEED YOU TO FISH IT OUT. NO I DON'T TRUST THOSE FLESH BAGS TO DO IT!"

"Samson can we grow corn?"

"Samson we don't want corn anymore."

He smokes often.

If you made it this far, thank you for reading! I'd be happy to provide clarifications if needed, feel free to ask!

[sirfrogsworth]

Froggie's (Almost) Very Productive Day

I try to fit as many out-and-about chores as possible into a single day so I only have one set of post-exertional malaise consequences instead of consequences after each day of doing a thing. So any time I decide to drive, I try to find several tasks to accomplish all at once.

My first stop was the Family Services Division in the hopes of getting some help with grocery bills. I am making ends meet, but it seems to be getting harder each month. And maybe I could have skipped my trip to Florida and saved that money, but if I don't do something drastic for my mental health, I fear this first holiday season without a parent could send me into the darkness.

I needed to do an interview to finish applying for SNAP. I wanted to do a phone interview, but the next appointment was in January. So I went to social services where they allow walk-in appointments. I waited in a tiny plastic chair for several hours until they called my name. She yelled out "Benjamin" because when most people see "Grelle" they aren't really sure how to say it. (Rhymes with belly.)

She started my interview and it was going swimmingly at first. But then she started asking questions about the house and my inheritance and my trust. I had no idea what to tell her. It feels like a mistake now, but I have had pretty much no involvement in that process. I have no idea how it works. And I started to panic because she was acting like I was committing fraud or something by not mentioning the trust. But the entire point of the trust was to protect my benefits. Nothing is mine. I own nothing. I have no access. But I had no idea how to explain that.

Maybe my lawyer can help me apply, but I did not want them investigating everything and screwing things up before we even have the estate through probate. We specifically hired a lawyer and went through this convoluted process to make sure everything was on the up and up. But she really made me feel like I was doing something wrong. And that made me panic, which probably made me look even more guilty of something. So I just canceled everything and left.

After a few hours in a crowded government office, I decided to head to a different crowded government office.

I know I didn't need it until 2025, but I decided to go ahead and get my Real ID thingie before my first flight. I was kind of hoping they'd retake my picture because my current driver's license is... well...

And I'm so glad they took my big terrible picture and made it into a smaller, more terrible picture.

People complain about the DMV, but the one near me runs like a machine. It was filled with people and I still only had a 10 minute wait time.

I'm starting to wonder if all of those 80s comedians who were all, "What's the deal with the DMV?" were exaggerating.

Good stuff, Jerry.

I head up to the counter and ask for a Real ID. She asks for two pieces of mail and my birth certificate.

And this disappointed me a little bit.

I did my research. I went to the Real ID website and used their interactive guide to figure out exactly which documents I would need. They gave me this entire checklist and I printed it out and went through all my records and mail trying to find everything.

I had to wait a week for my internet bill to come because it's the only thing I forgot to change to paperless. This took a lot of effort and I was ready to be validated for being so prepared.

And she asks for two pieces of mail.

Any mail.

So I was off to get new tires.

Driving around on 8 year old bald tires was giving me anxiety. I didn't have the money for new tires, but I remember the guy saying they had financing. Recently several of my past debts went past the statute of limitations, and so my credit score lifted itself out of the pits of "poor" and into the realm of "fair." So I decided to take a chance and apply for a Discount Tire credit card. It's a 6 month payment plan with no interest, so that didn't feel as predatory as all the credit card offers I get in the mail with 8000% interest.

We started going through the approval process and I was answering all of the questions and then I saw the name of the bank offering the credit. It was the same bank that tried to sue me and also the bank that can longer collect due to the statute. I was worried they put me on some sort of list and would deny me. But, to my surprise, they approved me instantly. And wouldn't you know it, they gave me almost exactly the amount needed for a new set of tires.

I'm hoping we'll be doing another auction of the house stuff soon, so I plan to pay off the card and then cancel it, but this was the only solution I could come up with to drive safely until then.

I was having a weird day where photos of crusty rich wide dudes followed me everywhere I went. Here is my good ol' boy governor at the entrance to social services.

And at the tire place, I noticed this fella...

Why does every rich CEO think they are a font of wisdom capable of creating compelling quotes?

Does he think no one has ever said "work hard" and "have fun"? And after he said this was he like...

"That's gold, put that in *every* store."

"Oh, and use that picture of me where it looks like a handsome gal just grabbed my undercarriage."

He probably thinks, "Well, no one has put these specific generic platitudes together into a single mega-platitude. I am a genius."

"Be honest, work hard, have fun, be grateful, pay it forward" sounds like he had a bunch of motivational posters on his wall and started reading them all at once.

Like, every line could have a picture of an eagle above it.

In any case, the guy at the tire store, Dakota, was really nice. He made the experience very low anxiety. And he really liked my Thor's Hammer keychain with built in fidget spinner.

He went around showing it to all his coworkers. "Look, it even spins!" And they were like, "Dude, where did you get that??" And I was like, "Amazon." Now I'm just imagining 10 dudes at a tire store all fidgeting their hammers.

As nice as he was, Dakota was still a salesman and had a job to do. He gave me two tire options and tried to upsell me. The cheapest tires had a "1" rating for winter. He said they get "super hard" in the cold... I tried not to giggle. But I explained I drive about twice a month and mostly to the grocery store. If it is a bad winter day, I'll just wait or get delivery. He understood and set me up with the cheaper tires.

He then checked out my car and noticed my tire pressure sensors were dying. I keep getting a warning light on my dash. Apparently they all have tiny batteries in them that die after 7 years. And you can't just replace the batteries so you have to install brand new sensors.

And this is where my social anxiety got me into trouble.

I don't actually need these sensors. They are usually inaccurate. I prefer to test my tires with an actual gauge. But I got so caught up in his sales pitch that I agreed to replace them... at $60 each. For that I could have gotten the fancier tires. I really don't care if an orange light shows up on my dash. And I looked up the price online and a pack of 4 is $30. Though that is without installation.

But still... I wasn't thinking and he was so nice that I was just like, "I want to please Dakota. Saying no might make Dakota sad." Dakota's job is selling me but that doesn't mean I have to buy anything. He would live if I had said "no thanks."

To make my blunder more blunderous, when they finished the tires he asked for my key fob. And it decided that was the time for the battery to die. And in order to reset the system for the new tire pressure sensors, you have to press two buttons on the fob for 7 seconds. Thankfully I had a spare fob at home, but if I want my fancy new $240 sensors to work, I have to return to Dakota and have him initialize them.

I really hope these are the Cadillac of sensors.

Or, like, the ones they use on Cadillacs?

They better be accurate, is what I'm saying.

I do feel safer with new tires. So I am glad I did that. And I gave them a good obligatory kick and felt the tread. They seem nice enough even if they get boners in the winter. It's crazy how bald my other tires were in comparison. Like, I can fit half my finger down into the tread on the new ones—which did not get them super hard.

The way I drive, I probably won't wear them down. They'll probably start to rot before I do.

Before I do, meaning before I wear them down.

Not before I rot.

I am not in a rotting competition with my tires.

I was then off to Sam's. I decided all of my hard work accomplishing 2 out of 3 goals deserved some sushi. So I grabbed some California Rolls and headed home. On my way out, a Hummer and a Porsche nearly collided in the parking lot. And they sort of got stuck facing each other. One of them needed to back up and they both signaled at each other like "You back up, I'm not backing up." And it was just this weird standoff between the two douchiest looking cars you could imagine.

I mean, you have to be a douche to drive a Hummer.

I still remember the mystery Hummer dialysis patient from when my dad was going 3 time per week. We could never figure out who owned the Hummer, but we knew it was not the underpaid nurses and techs. So it had to be one of the patients. And none of them seemed the type. We never solved that mystery.

That hummer started off a delightful safety yellow. (Elon would cry.)

They decided this wasn't extra enough... so they did this...

Katrina and I could never decide... are these cow spots or the world's least effective camoflauge?

There was another patient who drove this old beater...

And I loved seeing this car because we had the same one when I was a little kid. I'm afraid the aesthetics of the 1980s Caprice Classic did not stand the test of time, but it had great sentimental appeal for me.

But this maroon beast that squeaked and sputtered its way from here to there belonged to a very sweet older gentleman. Sometimes he and my dad would be dialysis buddies—sitting next to each other in the recliners. And the worst thing about dialysis was the boredom. All you have to do is watch broadcast TV with 4 channels.

All of the TVs require headphones. They give you your own set of super cheap headphones in the dialysis welcome bag. They were very uncomfortable so I ordered my dad better ones with cushioned ear cups.

His dialysis buddy noticed them and thought they looked nice. And then he revealed that his free headphones broke and he didn't know how to get new ones. He had been watching TV with no sound for weeks. So, I bought another pair with the soft ear cups and my dad gave them to his friend. And it just made me happy imagining the two of them watching The Price is Right in matching headphones.

I do have to make fun of this sweet old man a little bit. When I walked passed his car I noticed he implemented the world's most effective anti-theft device ever created.

That's right... The Club™.

If someone decides they have to have a 40 year old car with an engine that sounds like a dying hyena and a hubcap missing... they are out of luck.

But hey, you gotta protect what is important to you. And if I needed a getaway car and my choices were between his beater and the Cow Hummer, I'd take his ride for sure.

Well, I'd try... and then get arrested because The Club™ is undefeatable.

Do NOT look that up on YouTube. It's 100% true. (And the Lock Picking Lawyer doesn't count due to him being able to break into Fort Knox with a paperclip and then doing it again to make sure it isn't a fluke.)

The dialysis center is in the same complex as my local Tolerable Schnucks and I still see that maroon boat of a car every once in a while. I always smile whenever it is there because it lets me know he is hanging in there and hopefully still has sound for his TV.

Wow, I went off on a mega-tangent.

I didn't even finish talking about my day. Where was I? Oh, the douche standoff finally ended. The Porsche Douche capitulated and backed up. Probably due to the fact the Hummer Douche has 0 visibility behind him.

When I got home I started devouring my sushi. I finally heard back from my lawyer. He submitted the last of the evidence for my appeal. And I was finally able to confirm he got the records of my ECT treatments from 20 years ago. I worked so hard to get those. At first, they forgot to send all records before 2011. I had to call back and figure that out. They shipped them and they didn't arrive until a week before we had to file. Everything was so last minute and my anxiety has been... palpable. It felt like when I did my science fair project on Sunday night.

He's hoping to get a decision at the beginning of next year. He warned me that these appeals are usually rejected. And that the most effective method of approval was a hearing in front of an administrative law judge. But that could be delayed by up to a year. So I might need to figure out how to survive until 2025. As long as my brother does what he is legally required to do, I should be okay. But counting on that also gives me palpable anxiety.

And that was my day.

Every time I go out is always an adventure.

But remember...

BE NICE. EAT YOUR VEGGIES. PET CUTE DOGS. DREAM BIG. KEEP YOUR TIRES WARM... FOR REASONS. 5 LIFE LESSONS -Froggie, Mildly Famous Internet Person

[twopoppies]

Gina, have you seen the article about Hs workout routine for LOT? I mean, we all saw the results… but I find it almost even more impressive to learn how its been done! His dedication and work ethic is so inspiring and surely part of why I adore him so much 🫠🫶

Holy hell. No wonder he’s in such great shape. Just a note that Thibo David was his old trainer with Live On Tour. I assume Brad Gould was his new trainer for Love on Tour. But I doubt his regimen was any less insane.

[…]

If you include the one-mile run and bodyweight challenge, this is the hardest warm-up I’ve ever done, but, given the intensity required for the next two elements I’m promoting them to workout status.

[…]

David says Harry Styles can run a mile in an impressive 5min 13sec—a standard some of the professional athletes David coaches can’t match—but I was urged to run my own race.

[…]

This was far closer to my wheelhouse as a CrossFit fan. I chose to tackle it in alternating sets of 10, transitioning quickly between exercises to finish within the eight-minute limit. But even commando rolling from push-up to sit-up then springing into the squats left me little time to spare.

[…]

I took 7min 39sec, and, somewhat unexpectedly, given I can barbell squat more than 300lb, it was my quads that blew up the most. Whether this was the result of the one-mile run before it or heavy front squats the day before, I couldn’t say, but my thighs were on fire by the final rep.

“I like to say that I train very smart, but you also have to be very stupid sometimes, you know? Do this type of workout in the most stupid way; go hard at the task at hand, like when you throw a ball for a dog and it goes super crazy.

“This is a very good workout for that. Very good at building everything that needs to be added after the aerobic base; aggressiveness, speed, that go-hard mentality.”

[…]

Things did become particularly spicy during round three and four though, as my body began to tire with the sustained effort.

My posterior chain (the muscles running along the back side of the body) took a battering from the kettlebell swings and sandbag-over-shoulders, my already-fried legs felt heavy during the box jumps, and my shoulders grew tired from two minutes of straight clean and presses—it was a serious test of muscular endurance.

[…] I also did 12 total rounds—I wanted the full Styles experience, after all—but I’d live to regret this. The hill I chose grew progressively steeper as I worked my way up it, and by the eighth round I felt like death. My sprints turned to slogs, and the time it took me to complete the distance I established in the first interval grew longer.

[…] The prior running and box jumps didn’t help either, but I got it done eventually in less than 30 minutes.

[…]

This was a relaxing way to wrap up a far from relaxing morning of training, and gave me a second to catch my breath after a monumental effort which lasted a little over two hours.

I swapped his day of training for one of my usual CrossFit sessions and had a lot of fun doing it. Every part of my body felt like it had been put through the ringer thanks to the muscle-burning circuit and lung-taxing running elements. I was also very, very hungry.

Another thing that impressed me was Styles’ evident fitness levels and work ethic; how he has the energy to perform for two hours during a stadium tour is no longer a mystery.

Another thing I liked about my chat with David was his openness and honesty. I often see articles online saying celebrities do a few Pilates classes or HIIT workouts each week to stay in unbelievable shape, and he was keen to dispel this myth.

“Collaborating with Harry Styles was an absolute delight; his commitment is unparalleled,” says David.

“But it’s important to note that this level of training isn’t suitable for everyone. Harry was inherently fit, but achieving the level of fitness needed for this session still required time, work and effort. Rushing into such high-volume workouts can pose risks.”

David also stressed that sessions of this intensity weren’t done every day, and the nature of his workouts will often “depend on the day and the state of the athlete”.

“It’s crucial to emphasize the significance of proper periodization,” says David. “Not every day constituted an intense session. In fact, we strategically incorporated recovery sessions which often involved a light run combined with core exercises and mobility work. Every workout was thoughtfully placed within the overall training plan.”

Read, full article here

x