#if i ever get my mojo back i should draw this

[iconoclast-infidels]

Because I should force myself to still journal even though I'm not in the mood.

Things I want to say to him.

What is your current favorite movie? Your current favorite song? Bands? Series? New hobbies? I should already know your current favorite obsession. I hate I don't know what current favorite anything is right now. I wonder what you're painting, sculpting, drawing. eating. Are you eating? Are you even doing anything fun at all? Why does that hurt me if you are? Why does that hurt me if you're not? I can't stand the thought of you drowning out there without me and I hate the thought of you thriving without me. Your solitude is my isolation. I thought you never wanted to hurt me? Don't you realize what you need is my torture? FUCK IT. I probably deserve it anyway. I miss putting ice cubes in the tub for Gary. Okay. I'm lying. I put the ice cubes in the tub for Gary even without Gary there. What kind of home doesn't have a penguin in the tub? I can't breathe. The boars look bored. I keep thinking I should throw them a corpse Munch munch munch. Corpsie munchies for wittle evil boars. HA! But can't bring myself to do it because I only want to throw them mine. I have to stay alive for when you get back.

You are coming back right? FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK. This is taking forever. I am not a Guns N Roses song. I am not good at Patience. Axle Rose can fuck right off. I'm trying here.

I could just peek. Just a for a minute. A second. Just to see if you're okay. Good God I hope you're okay. Fuck you God. BLAH blah blah. I can hear it now. Don't blame God for this. Blame myself. Blame you. Actions have consequences or no no no I got it - everything isn't about you Nico. No actually fuck that. This affects me too. So, Fuck that. It is about me.

Favorite things this week:

Picking cat hair off the couch. Not sure why this is so satisfying. I did not throw it away though. It's the only way I can pretend to pet Lisbeth right now.

Changing the guitar strings as if I was going to play it and then not playing it but damn it's ready to go if I ever get the mojo back. It is so not back.

Walked in the graveyard and told the Hell Radio to shut the Hell up. Then l laughed at myself because it made too much sense. Shut. The Hell. Up. Literally. I kill myself. I wonder if Hell has stand up comedians? Maybe I should try a change in carreers? I'd probably need a carreer first... or yanno... a job at all. Am I rambling in journal mode? Fuck. I am. I'mma stop now.

I can't even do journal right.

OR wait. Is this exactly what journal is for?

Maybe. I don't know. But I miss Dmitry.

I'm so frustrated

And it's closing in on second Christmas. He wouldn't really miss second Christmas. Would he?

[elshells]

Welcome, Traveler!

Hello! Ella here, it's nice to meet you. Thanks for stopping by my blog!

I've only been on Tumblr for a couple of years, but I've been sharing original stories online since 2018, and writing for fun even before that. Mainly, I dabble in science fiction, fantasy, horror, and everything in between. If you read or write within these genres, we'll get along great. And even if you don't, hit me up! I'm always looking for another good read, and I'm pretty easy to please.

In the writeblr community, I welcome asks/tag games and am always looking for an excuse to talk about my beloved characters. Granted, it takes me forever and a day to respond to literally anything, but I'd love to get to know you and your WIPs!

If I'm not writing, I'll hop on to see what y'all are up to, and sometimes I'll chime in with whatever's on my mind. Usually late at night when I should be asleep. As one does. You know how it goes around here. And if I happen to say anything hilarious, there's a 60% chance it was unintentional. I rarely think I'm funny in real life.

The bottom line is, if you enjoy my WIPs or just wanna be friends, please don't be shy to reach out! I'm often afraid to make the first move, but no matter how I end up on your feed, I hope I can make you smile!

* * *

MORE ABOUT ME

—‌Currently pursuing a degree in English creative writing and gender sexuality, and race studies, with minors in publishing and printing arts and music performance. So, naturally, I can be a busy gal.

—‌My dream is to be a published author (looking into the indie route), with the goal to debut before I graduate. I also have aspirations to be an actor in community theatre and/or voiceover work; we'll see how that goes!

—‌I've played the flute for almost ten years, and am slowly learning piano and guitar. Eventually I'd love to learn my way around a drum set as well, if I ever find the time, money, and discipline. Maybe I'll even write my own music one day, who knows?

—‌I love to swim, do yoga, and I rode horses for several years. Beyond that, I'm pretty much hopeless at sports, especially the ones that involve throwing around a ball.

—‌Occasionally I'll find the motivation to make some doodles. I haven't been that dedicated to the craft lately, so I've lost a lot of my mojo, but I hope to get back into drawing some day and maybe share some of my art!

—‌As a teenager, I volunteered at my local zoo and aquarium—‌and I would still love to go back one day—‌but for now, I work as a lifeguard and swim instructor.

—‌PFP is my current DND character, a tiefling bard named Enyo. If you're interested in learning more about her, check out this post (which includes a full-body artistic interpretation!)

—‌Like I mentioned before, I'm here to make friends! I'll talk to anyone about anything, as long as the conversation stays friendly, safe, and respectful. I won't tolerate hate in any form.

* * *

WIP MASTER LIST

If you enjoy a chapter, please consider letting me know by reblogging and leaving a comment! I welcome anything you have to say, so long as you're kind to me, yourself, and others. Useful and constructive criticism is always encouraged if you catch something I didn't, so feel free to share any feedback, opinions, or questions you have. I'm always looking to improve and I appreciate all the support I can get!

THE HARMONT HEROES SERIES —‌A fusion of science fiction and urban fantasy told through the dual POV of two sisters on opposite ends of society. This saga features mystery and intrigue, thrills and chills, and an array of LGBTQ+ characters. -BOOK ONE: Agent Ace -BOOK TWO: TBA -BOOK THREE: TBA -BOOK FOUR: TBA

EMBR OF THE EARTH (Standalone)—‌In the far, unknown future, the world is overrun by human survivors, robot scouts, and hostile, alienesque creatures that came from nowhere. A ragtag group of teens choose to leave the safety of their satellite and return to Earth, determined to discover what happened to planet and if there's a way to save it. -ON INDEFINITE HIATUS -The current draft is still available on Wattpad; read it here.

ENCORE (Standalone) —‌An eighteen-year-old girl is rescued from a deserted island as the lone survivor with an unbelievable story. Twelve years later, the girl, now a struggling musician who's still tortured by the past, is given an opportunity to go back in time to save the others. But with such high stakes to succeed, the price may be too much to pay. -A twist on the Final Girl trope in classic horror. -COMING TO TUMBLR SOON! Get started with the first five chapters here.

POETRY

Am I a poet? I don't know, you tell me!

Water Nymphs

Witches

Alley Cat

Sea Urchin

Homebody

Puhpowee

* * *

WHERE ELSE YOU CAN FIND ME

Wattpad: @ persephonehale

AO3: @ elshells *In the meantime, thanks for saying hi!*

[the1weepinqguitar]

tally hall sketches and other assorted doodles

Here ya go guys! I also have improvement pics from last year! Almost two years in the Tally Hall fandom! Woohoo! My Marvin's CD is gonna hate me even more after all of this

A Ross sketch! I'm super proud of how it turned out! Below is a close-up!

The aforementioned close-up, showing the shading on his face and the folds of his sleeve!

Zubin! I love the side profile, and I used his picture in the MMMM booklet as a reference! Close up below, so you can see some of the more fine details/shading

the close-up!

Here's Andrew! His hair is kinda hard to not fluff-ify, but I dealt with it anyways and tried my best to keep it close to reality. Obligatory close(r)-up below.

next will be some other random stuff, mostly tally hall, but some of it is oc art

drew this drawing of Ross last September. Not amazing but very stylized, which I love/hate. the tag on the bottom left reads, "he's rather disheveled but this is the best I could do back then"

wtf is he doing? He in an action movie or something? btw this was last-year's andrew. very stylized. i hate it.

decided not to include the other last-year Rob cause i hate it deeply. this one's much better. very fluffy. i dont like the collar tho

just me poking fun at my horrendous attempts at stylizing joe. im not gonna draw him as much as the others btw.

This is from an au created by @bonkdd, but i did rob and andrew's designs bc i never saw his designs for them. i also added a lot of lore and plot stuff because i really liked the concept. in simple terms the tallies are robots that were abandoned by Marvin after he passed away so now they're falling apart n stuff without him to care for them (that's why rob hides his face). Anyways, huge thanks to Bonk for the original idea! They're a great artist, you should go check them out!

Edith, drawn/sketched with a ballpoint pen.

Another one. I like this one better, but I spent two days on this one versus a half on hour on the other so i guess it makes sense

Adrian and Reuben (OCs), done in a college-ruled notebook bc i ran out of pages in my sketchbook. next is a close-up so you can see more shading.

probably my favorite gay couple i've ever written ngl

Ace again, but wearing Reuben's favorite sweater.

Looking mighty fine!

He's lookin' tough, he's got the stuff, he's got the spiffy shades... (/lyric)

pose practice

Boll weevil, why don't you get out of your home? (/lyric)

old art jumpscare - i actually kinda like this one, might redraw it. Below is the full thing

why is zubes staring like that??? its creepy

here's another. i don't know why it's sideways. andrew is scared of joe btw, this isn't the entire drawing

Did an embossing peice. It's the Mojo Chessmaster! I tried by best to make it as detailed as possible, and I think I did pretty alright. The neck was probably the worst part to do. Below are close-ups

the head of the guitar was a pain in the ass.

This part was also pretty tricky but it came out okay. the dials at the bottom are raised as much as I could get them to go, so I'm not worried about them. My issue here was the pickups.

I also added Flansburgh's little signature guy but i drew his hair because why not? Anyways this piece took me a good hour or so to finish, I think it'll fetch a good grade (it was for my metal design class).

I'll add a sketch I just did as a bonus:

it's from a tally hall fanfic/au i made back in may after my grandpa passed away. It was a great stress-reliever and I still really like how it turned out. It's about cryptids and monsters and shit. I'll post a summary on a different post because this one was mostly for the drawings. I might post a few installments of it on my ao3. It could be a weekly thing since i usually have time on fridays to write.

Once again, a close-up is available below.

I put literal hours of research on cryptids and of the area (ann harbor, MI) while writing this fic. It was fun though, and it helped me a lot. Feel free to ask me anything about the plot or world-building !

[devil-doll13]

Crystallized

Tw: Referenced Child Death, Blood, Drowning, Mentions of Bullying, Swearing (pretty much everything you expect from the Friday the 13th franchise) Religious Themes

So… This is a bit of a weird introduction for these two but the idea just stuck in my mind and refused to leave. I’m not sure when I will write a followup yet, but I just had to get this out.

Summary: Jude remembers a person from her past as it comes back to haunt her, as it always does. However, nothing can prepare her for the task she is about to undertake…

Dividers by delishlydelightfuldividers

‘Camp Crystal Lake’ was aptly named, for during the Summer the pure, clear waters glittered brilliantly under the bright midday sun.

She stood at the base of the pier and watched as he was pushed in. Good Christian boys and girls had seen fit to cast stones and jeer cruelly at the poor outcasted creature. Jason Voorhees was tormented daily by the same children whom Mrs Voorhees kept fed and cared for. The very woman he cried out for as he helplessly drowned.

She stood at the base of the pier and watched, as his large, bulbous head, streaked with blood, was swallowed by deep, endless blue. For a while he desperately splashed around in an effort to fight the undertow, but Jason couldn’t swim. He had never been taught. Eventually he disappeared completely.

She stood idly by the pier, and did nothing.

(I could swim. I could’ve saved him.)

Jude had always tried to push the blame on someone else. It was always the easy way out; as humans loathe to be at fault for their actions. If she admitted responsibility, she might be as guilty as his judges and executioners.

She had always thought herself better than that; above them somehow. Though she knew deep down she was not. She still turned the away other cheek.

(Why did no one come to save him? Where were the adults? Where were they?)

Ever since the ringleader, Evan, had snuck a snake under her pillow, terrifying her to panicked tears, Jude had been wary of drawing his ire. Her fear of the slithering reptiles, to this day, can still be traced back to that prank. Going against him wasn’t worth it.

So was that not enough of a reason? Why should she suffer for his sake? Why should she care at all about that ‘little freak’ Jason Voorhees?

(Did his life have so little meaning?)

It occurred to her only years after the fact that it had been the first time she had watched someone die.

It would not be the last time, of course. Her fate was as intertwined with tragedy as her cousin’s was. It took a lifetime to understand that the inevitable had been set in motion long before she was born, by her mother and her mother’s mother. Their trauma had echoed into her blood; bled into her very soul.

Then, Jude momentarily held the power in her hands to change his fate, but squandered it. She did not send him a passing glance, nor offer a kind word, or even reassure him that she did not find him repulsive; as all the others claimed he was. Because the truth of the matter was that she did. She did.

Her mother instilled within her the holy values of Christ, but she failed to act as he surely would have. Though she dutifully obeyed and assimilated as one with the faithful flock, as meek as the lamb, in her lion���s heart she was a coward.

The hypocrisy is all too real. If only she could atone for those sins, to be forged in fire; if she only could become a woman worthy to wield the sword of God.

But your failures can stay with you for a long time.

Camp Crystal Lake was closed the following day.

“…Y’know, we really do pick the days with the absolute worst fuckin’ mojo to go and risk our lives.”

Zach cast Jude a sly glance from behind the wheel. A stubby cigarette hung lazily from his lips as he puffed fumes of white smoke out the open window.

“I mean, on the 13th? I dunno, Judie…”

She snorted, gladly taking the bait.

“You’re so superstitious.”

Although she knew her partner was only having a bit of a laugh, she would be damned if she didn’t take the opportunity to make fun of him.

“Me? Superstitious?” Zach laughed heartily.

“You’re the one who thinks a bunch of rocks can create force fields, and that being an ‘Aries’ or whatever makes me all hot-headed and impulsive.”

“But you are impulsive!” She argued back, grinning wildly.

“All I’m saying is no amount of, of…” He gesticulated vaguely with his free hand. “… Troglodytes or whatever are gonna save you from getting possessed, get off it!”

She scoffed indignantly, acting mortally offended.

“First of all, they’re called Turquoises and they absolutely do give you great spiritual protection and they ward off negative energy!” Jude scolded him. “And besides, with what we’ve seen in our lifetimes, is it really so hard to believe?”

Zach began to amusedly shake his head.

“You read too many funky internet articles.” He turned the curve on the road, forcing Jude to lean to the right. “They’re gonna rot your brain.”

Jude flipped her hair nonchalantly.

“That’s a pity, yours is already gone.”

“Ha, ha,” Zach deadpanned, rolling his one remaining eye playfully.

“If only your pretty crystals were able stop a rampaging werewolf, huh? I mean, I could certainly do without all these ugly scars.” He rubbed his chin, thumbing the bumpy mark by his lip. He glanced subtly at the rear view mirror, and something dimmed in his expression.

For a moment she was at a loss for words.

“They’re not ugly, Z…” It was all she could think to reassure him, softening her gaze considerably.

He chuckled. “Thanks, but I can still see, y’know?”

Jude watched sombrely as he traced the dark leather of his eyepatch. She wondered if it got any easier to be missing a part of you, or more depressing.

“Anyway!” Zach cleared his throat, putting an end to that little conversation. “You’ve got the map. Are we on the right path or what?”

Sensing an urge to ignore the previous topic, Jude unfolded the laminated material and observed a criss-cross of beige and blue lines and dashes illustrating the New Jersey roads and highways. It was disturbingly familiar, and somehow it was only then that she was reminded where they both were headed, and the significance of that place to her.

“Yeah, we are…” She murmured.

Zach tapped some stray ashes out the window. She felt a sort of regretful prick at the back of her neck; sharp and insidious.

He pondered out loud, none the wiser: “A whole bunch of kids turning up missing, and all they’ve got in common is sex, drugs and Camp Crystal Lake…”

She almost flinched at hearing that name again.

“Makes you wonder why they’re stupid enough to keep going back…” He shook his head in disbelief.

“It’s definitely the work of a malevolent spirit… a vengeful type, probably, I mean,” Jude hastily cut in, fumbling with the map.

“Why, what makes you so sure?” Zach turned to stare at her inquisitively, furrowing his brows.

She swallowed thickly, enduring the telltale drop in her gut that always accompanied confessions like this; it seemed Zach was always receiving them.

“…I think I knew him when he was alive.” Was all she could manage.

“…Ah.” A grimace of sympathy dawned on his face. The mood abruptly soured into grim silence. The car rattled as it hit a bump in the road.

Zach sucked in a breath. “…You wanna talk about it?”

Jude felt something inside her steadily deflate.

“No, not really…” She admitted, tossing the map haphazardly onto the dashboard where it shined in the afternoon sun.

“Okay.”

He nodded, seemingly having expected this reply. Jude focused numbly on the sizzle of his cigarette as blew smoke rather forcefully out of his mouth.

“Well, Ollie’s more or less just kickin’ down the road next to us. Give or take a couple hundred miles…” He sent her a cheeky grin that she knew, even without looking, was masking his genuine concern. “We could always just pawn it off on them, you know.”

She scrunched her face up in distaste at the idea. Zach was not the kind of man to push responsibility on others, so the fact he was actually willing to do so for her sake was embarrassing. She didn’t like the thought of being so sensitive that she couldn’t deal with her past; it made her feel like she was just being a liability.

“…No. I need to do this.” She insisted with finality.

Jude had begun to realise she’d never properly confronted her guilt about what had happened to Jason Voorhees. She liked to believe that she’d changed; that she wasn’t the same weak-willed, easily swayed lamb from her childhood, or the same confused adolescent. That maybe she could make up for all the years that she had been.

But it felt like a piece of her had died five years ago, and with that her cowardly heart. If only that meant she could be strong and resolute now.

“It just feels like…” Jude stared at her pale, shaking hands as she tried to crystallise her emotions in words. “…I can never escape this feeling. Like, like all this stuff just follows me everywhere and I can’t ever do anything about it.”

“…Yeah, I get it.” He squashed his cigarette in the holder before continuing: “I guess some people are just bound by destiny…”

Jude knit her brows in thought for a moment before sending him an incredulous look: “Bound by destiny? And you tell me not to read ‘funky internet articles’”

“Hey now, that was from my favourite book series as a kid!” Zach raised a hand in mock defence. “If you’re gonna accuse me of plagiarism, at least get your sources right.”

“Honestly, that sounds like a pretty lame book series to me, and I used to be a sucker for that YA craze.”

“Oh really?”

His distracting banter lightened the atmosphere considerably, and by the time Jude saw the bright and familiar ‘Camp Crystal Lake’ painted on a welcome sign, she no longer felt that strange, heavy pressure weighing on her chest.

Zach whistled as he took in the dilapidated cabins. They had certainly seen better days; though this was made somewhat more palatable by the bountiful Summer vegetation and good weather. The titular lake lay beyond the woodland, and shone pure and bright just as it did all those years ago.

“Wow… Empty. Nice view, though.” He lightly pushed the car door shut, his signature trench coat hoisted over his shoulder.

“…Yeah, it’s always been great here.” Jude said airily, pointing toward the flash of blue obscured by trees. “See the lake? We used to go swimming in the mornings, it was that temperate.”

Zach’s eyebrows arched in surprise. “And it didn’t freeze your bones the second you jumped in?”

“No, actually, but it was always really refreshing! Woke you up straight away.”

“Damn! I bet it did.”

Her smile faltered as that happy memory was soured by another, more arresting one.

“For those of us who c-could swim, at least…”

Zach had fortunately fixed his attention on their trunk, so he did not see her grimace. He licked his lips as his calloused hands found the cold, humming surface of his prize. Jude turned back around only to click her tongue at the sight.

“Really? You’re gonna take the whole damn cooler of whiskey in there with you?”

“Hey, I don’t wanna be thirsty!”

“Or sober.” She finished for him, shaking her head disapprovingly. Zach gave a flippant shrug and lifted the icebox into his arms. He returned afterward for his razor and toothbrush, which he had apparently deemed as comparatively less important.

To be entirely honest, Jude wasn’t too worried. If there was one special skill Zach could brag about, it was the ability to still manage to hit perfect bullseyes while completely sloshed; not to mention his obvious lack of depth perception. She noticed, too, that he was wearing all his fighting equipment today. Only a fool would think him unprepared.

None of the cabins left behind by the mass exodus had been particularly appealing, but they chose the biggest one that had all the different bedrooms - albeit they were in various stages of disrepair - because it was both the most defensible and most protected from the outside elements. It may have been Summer, but that wasn’t accounting for the late night chill.

Jude felt a pang of recognition hit her as she entered, realising far too late that this had been where the old staff members would usually stay. Her focus was drawn irresistibly to a picture frame resting crookedly on a wall, some kind of relic of the distant past. Behind the ever-so-slightly cracked glass were the previous camp councillors, their joyful faces forever frozen in time.

She tried to look elsewhere, but all of it turned up a new, fresher scar in the landscape. The entire house reeked sickeningly of death, something she’d become far too accustomed to. She already regretted coming here at all, even though she was the one who’d convinced her partner to do so.

“Looks like this is about the only place I’d feel good about staying in.” Zach huffed as he tossed his coat onto a dusty hanger. “I’m sure you feel the same.”

“Now, we’re both gonna have to do a bit of investigating, it seems. I don’t think this is gonna be an Albuquerque situation on our hands here.”

Jude watched him light up another cigarette, floorboards creaking as she approached. “I don’t think so either, but I don’t think we should get too comfortable here too quickly…”

His cheek twitched, thin grey smoke curling out of his nose.

“It’s only temporary until we take out the target.”

“I know, but… I mean, look at this place.”

“Well, it’s the best we got, Judie.” He retorted. “I get you might not wanna linger too long in a place that reminds you-“ He wisely stopped that sentence before it continued, busying himself with unpacking instead. Jude found herself inexplicably fascinated with the frayed rug on the floor.

I need to get away. It’s too stifling in here…

“How about…” She started, letting a bag of spare clothes drop onto the floor. “You go chum it up with the locals, and I go inspect the camp grounds?”

Zach, who had been in the middle of extracting several pairs of black socks from his suitcase, studied her carefully for a moment. She caught a momentary flash of concern in his eye, a sight not so rare.

“…You sure?” He questioned her gently.

“Mhm.” Jude nodded. She briskly zipped open a duffle bag and began to empty out the contents onto the sofa. It contained all of her usual ghost-hunting equipment, medical supplies and ammunition, spilling out in a sort of jumbled mess.

“Well… Alright.” He said finally, with a hint of reluctance, gesturing to her weapons pack. “Go prepared, though.”

She bit back a sigh, unable to help feeling agitated at his cautious tone. “I’ll just secure the perimeter, there’ll be no need to drag around a big heavy axe…”

“But you’ll be sure to take your dagger with you, yeah?”

“Yeah, yeah… I’ll be fine. I’m not a newbie anymore, remember?” Jude reassured him, sending him a chastising glare. “You worry too much.”

At this Zach backed off, holding his hands up in defeat. Between his fraternal ribbing and casual teaching style, he often felt like more of an older brother to her than a mentor, but she still was distantly aware of his seniority and felt a tinge if remorse for her short responses…

“See, I know your aim is shit…” He teased her with a rising smirk, single brown eye gleaming with mirth.

“Oh, shut up!”

An hour later, Jude found herself standing once again at the wooden pier leading out to the lake. The crystal clear waters lay still and serene, almost mirror-like in form. She saw herself reflected back in those glassy depths; once a girl, now a woman.

It’s been 12 full years since Jason Voorhees died, she thought. 12 years since I've been here… Standing in this exact spot.

At first she wondered if it would feel different now that she was older and had time to reflect on the past, but nothing had prepared her for such a disturbingly familiar sight. Now it seemed her guilt gnawed at her anew; though she knew she had no right to feel sorry for herself in the wake of that poor boy’s death.

Still, Jude watched herself frown, It’s quite haunting.

It had been strange for her to come back and walk the same paths she had so often tread as a child. The camp might’ve undergone a brief revival once or twice, but now it was neglected and overgrown, and she passed by many an abandoned communal building and overturned canoe on her way here. That had instilled a sort of nostalgic sorrow in her heart, despite it all. Her Summers here were typically enjoyable and fun, particularly Mrs Voorhees’ wonderful cooking…

The smile that tugged at her lips was bittersweet. In her childhood memories, Camp Crystal Lake had been filled with smiling, laughing children and friendly camp counsellors who all wore happy faces and played guitar. Seeing it so deserted now was strikingly eerie. There was something so intrinsically wrong about the barren silence, only punctuated by chirping birdsong and warm, gentle breeze rustling the leaves.

Unexpectedly, a shocking pinprick on the back raised her finer hairs and made her shiver despite the heat. Jude whirled around, startling a flock of nearby birds. She backed away slowly from the pier - mindful that the ghost of a boy who had drowned would most likely reside there - and scanned the forest treeline with a steadily rising heart rate.

Zach? No, he can’t have come back so quickly… And he wouldn’t scare me like that, not in this place.

Suspecting the other possiblity, Jude clicked through various frequencies on the spirit box that had been clipped onto her belt. In her experience it was rare to actually hear any tangible voices through it, but with enough practice radio static and spikes of activity had become a sort of code to be cracked and translated into human tongue.

But…

Nothing. Nothing at all. Not even a hint of a ghost.

Jude kept a ready hand at her gun holster as she hiked up the somewhat overgrown brush, searching further for any signs of supernatural activity on the box. Still, after half an hour of blindly searching, no signals. She actually doubted if there was any Wi-Fi or radio waves that could reach this far away into the wilderness since the area wasn’t exactly very populated, but it was still discouraging nevertheless.

And creepy, she noted. Jude was consequently no longer in the sightseeing mood, and began to wearily trudge her way back to the cabins. It seemed her gun burnt a hole through her jeans as she walked, just like she itched from nervous tension.

It would be too easy to write that off, but she wasn’t stupid. Her sharp instincts had been honed by years of hunting and being hunted by monsters.

Someone, or something, had been watching her from behind in those supposedly uninhabited woods, and she had just felt it.

Jude bit her lip anxiously. She was absolutely certain the revenant they were searching for was Jason. It almost felt like all this investigation was pointless, she now realised was most likely the very entity that had been lurking by the lake.

And maybe, she thought, he recognises me…

Her uneasy mood stayed with her as she watched the skies and the sun begin to sink below the horizon, coating the world in blazing orange hues. Jude watched from the cabin window as their shared car pulled up again in the mounting darkness, left headlight still busted from their last battle.

“It’s Jason, I…” She began as he wedged the door open, stopping at his flabbergasted look.

“I… Got takeout.” He presented a plastic bag wafting aromatic spices from across the room.

“Oh. Right.” She uncrossed her arms, and it was as if the smell of food reminded her stomach it had been empty almost the whole day.

Oh my god, It’s McDonalds… Did he just drive like five miles for that? You know what, who cares…

“By all means, continue.” He offered, striding over to the couch to unwrap the steaming package. Jude felt all will to do anything but eat completely leave her body as she impatiently took her share from him.

“No, actually…” She reconsidered it. Would she really even be telling him something he didn’t already know? “You go first.”

“Well…” He began, the old leather couch sagging under him as he sat down. “I’ll tell you this: just about everybody I spoke to told me this was a bad idea.”

She raised an inquisitive eyebrow at this, munching on some chunky chips.

“I mean, it really seems like the locals believe this place is under a curse… Pretty standard, but I’ve rarely seen people as spooked as this.”

He shook his head at the memory.

“But that’s good, right? Means the locals at least aren’t foolish enough to poke the bear.” Jude offered, licking her greasy fingers.

He paused to eat, first digging heartily into his burger. Their lack of electricity meant they were forced to use an emergency supply of candles and lanterns to provide light, casting an eerie glow over Zach’s face as his expression grew more grim.

“…It would be, except for the fact this place’s reputation has somehow made it into a weirdly popular tourist trap.” He shook his head, pursing his lips. “Must be the danger of it. I could think of a more obvious reason why they might be lured here though…”

“I don’t think that’s the case.” Jude cut in.

“Oh?”

“See, what I was about to tell you was… It’s Jason. I’m absolutely certain it’s him. I was at the lake earlier, and… He was definitely watching me.”

It all sort of spilled out in a hurry, and she gave a nervous little laugh, skin prickling in discomfort.

“But how can you be sure?” Zach, ever the contrarian, set down his half-eaten burger. “You’re not just basing this off ‘vibes,’ right?”

“No, no.” She reassured him.

The sinking feeling in her gut started again.

“It’s just… What happened with Jason, well…”

Jude suddenly felt as if something was caught in her throat, and took a sip of her soda.

“…Jason drowned.”

“…He-“

BANG

In an instant Zach had his revolver in hands, aiming it directly at the source of the mysterious noise. Jude’s heart jumped right out of her chest as she drew her own pistol, following his lead. He abandoned his food, cautiously moving over to peer out the dusted cabin window…

Outside, their car’s hood had been caved in.

(Taglist: @rottent33th, @slaasherslut, @the-pinstriped-hood, @goldrose-star, @soupbabe, @bluecoolr, @flower-crowned-lady, @vincent-sinclair-deserved-better, @solmints-messyocdiary)

[star4daisy]

Wife on her duty as a perfect wife i'm!

For the asking game, babe. Give me what i need... 3, 4, 14, 17, 19, 30, 35, and 43 (even tho i already know the answer).

Lov u sfm🖤

omg it was a joke luv <3

3. Describe the creative process of writing a chapter/fic

I'm the worst person to answer this I have no process sometimes I plan everything out and then write based on that and actually do what I planned, most times the characters take life and change everything and I keep trying to go back to the original plan and sometimes can still fit some things, usually not lol when I have time I just go with the flow and then if I'm interrupted I have to write down what I want to happen next otherwise I will not remember when I open the docs again, on the good days I write without actually thinking about it so I don't remember it well just feels like my fingers can't type fast enough lol very automatic

4. Where do you find inspiration for new ideas?

(I think I've answered this before in a better way) everywhere, things come to me at the most random times, usually when I'm daydreaming before falling asleep, sometimes by other books, tv shows or music but mostly it just feels like I spent six years of my life repressing my creative side so I could do physics and calculus so now that I'm letting it loose it's running wild lol

14. how do you write emotional scenes? Do you ever feel what the characters feel? Do you draw from personal experiences?

I don't write emotional scenes, I can't do emotional or vulnerable therefore neither can my characters which is why I mostly write from Barty/Evan's pov lol it's a different type of emotional I guess I have a dificulty in making my characters say I love you, I just cringe so badly. I don't feel what they feel at all lol and the only personal experience would be from emotions like anger

17. What do you do when writing becomes difficult? (maybe a lack of inspiration or writers block)

inspiration never lacks the problem is the lack of time, but when things aren't flowing I stop and go watch something, read or go to the gym until my mojo comes back

19. What is the most-used tag on your ao3?

Morally Ambiguous Characters and Graphic Depictions of Violence

30. Do you share rough drafts or do you wait until it’s all polished?

sometimes I just post the draft lol I cannot re-read things before posting so the first few people reading are definetly getting screwed over sorry, but then I feel the pressure of having people seeing all my mistakes and it forces me to go polish it

35. What is one essential thing to remember when writing a villain?

question what are his motives and why did he chose that path and maybe not make him one-dimensional like his whole purpose isn't just to go against the hero, make him compelling, make us believe in why he chose that path make us understand him and feel sorry for his motivations, I always like that lol

43. Do you take a sadistic joy in whumping your characters, or are you more the "If you hurt them I would kill everyone and then myself" kind of person?

Definetely the first, I'm very disattached to death, I have cried in very few fics and it's not when people die lol sometimes living is more painful so I never expect people to say they cried and when they do I'm always in shock

thx <3 I thought this was gonna be harder lol but maybe I just didn't answer as I should lol

[b1111199]

No One Special Here Foundation- The Full Testimonial

[FTF transformation, willing corruption, reality change TF, genericification]

Accompanying art done by the great YellowCatArt98 (Discord- YellowCatArt#8214)

______________________________________________________________

Ever feel like there’s too much going on in your life? Fate of the world resting on your shoulders? Too much respect to live up to? Too much power and not enough challenge? Well we at the NOSH Foundation have a solution for you! With our patented Minion Relocation technology you can escape your old stressful life and enter a whole new world in your new humble, fulfilling life as a minor antagonist. Never worry about trivial things like what to wear, what to do or what your name is ever again! Still not convinced? Let’s take a look at some satisfied customers!

Cynthia here used to be a Pokémon Champion, a very public facing and stressful role. She’d grown tired of the long hours, working vacations, and constant tournaments so when she got in touch we recommended her to our MKR34 program. One short warp pipe trip and one easy application of our SGTF mask and her whole world changed.

Now Shy Gal here spends her days dancing and booty shaking and she’s never been happier. When asked for an interview she declined while blushing but she sent a statement written on a notepad slid across the table.

“I was sceptical at first but the foundation offered a trial program: if I wasn’t happy after a week, I could go right back. With that safety net I felt it was worth a try but it turns out, I didn’t need it. As soon as I slipped the mask on it and began to transform this is where I knew I wanted to be in life. Now I’m surrounded by friends with the same interests and style, I don’t have to spend all that time on my hair and I can cut loose and shake my butt all I want. I highly recommend the No One Special Here Foundation and who knows, maybe next time I do background dancing, you’ll be there next to me. -_^”

----

After unexpectedly shooting to internet stardom, Bowsette grew sick of lewd art overtaking her life and just wanted to have some space to enjoy her antagonism in peace. Thanks to our six month disgraced ninja package, she was able to quickly take up a new life as a member of the Yiga Clan in the land of Hyrule. Five months in, here’s what Yiga Footsoldier has to say for her experience:

“I wanted to get back in touch with the petty evil and not stress about appearances. It’s everything I wanted: attacking travellers, stealing treasures, dooming the world over a 10,000 year old grudge. And because I look like everyone else, I don’t give a crap about who draws porn of me. It could be any of us.”

Yiga Footsoldier was so satisfied with her placement that she’s considering making the transfer permanent.

“I thought it would be great as a break to get my mojo back but now I’m wondering if this is just me now. Being no one special here is oddly liberating and it would feel so… off to go back to being the one giving the orders and having to do the evil speeches. And thanks to Master Koga, I’ve really opened my eyes to the appeal of chunkier men. Maybe I should apologise to Wario for rejecting him so hard… Wait, is this still being recorded? Switch that off before I slit your-!”

------

Impa was left at a crossroads when she had fulfilled her destined position as Sage of Shadow and all threats to Hyrule had been destroyed. All that Sheikah training and hiding in the shadows were no more use so she was left adrift. In her own words, “The problem with prophesies is that they never say what you’re supposed to do when they’re done”. So she got in contact with us and we were able to find a perfect match with our Path of Prophesied Conflict program.

Now fulfilling a prophecy of ruin, Parasol Beauty Heartless works tirelessly to gather hearts for her enigmatic masters. She declined to be interviewed but did send this message in beautiful handwriting.

“Purpose is a powerful thing, be it for good or for ill. With the emergence of Kingdom Hearts fated I am glad to fulfil my new duty, knowing that I have played my part. I may be no one special here in the grand scheme but it’s better to be a nobody (not to be confused with a Nobody) with purpose than a famed has-been. I must cut this correspondence short, there’s a rowdy youth with terrible hair that needs to be taken care of.”

-----

Being a hero isn’t all it’s cracked up to be as Aqua discovered. No sooner than she had become a Keyblade Master did she lose her old master, her friends and her world in one fell swoop and spent the next ten years wandering the realm of darkness. In her own words-

“I knew that the Rattata race of heroics would chew me up and spit me out with nothing to show for it if I stayed around. So when I found the No One Special Here Foundation, I took the plunge and picked up the strange orb they gave me as part of the Grunt Work program.”

Now Team Galactic Grunt is making up for those ten lost years of nothing by working overtime to bring Team Galactic’s vision of a new world to reality. She fights alongside her adorable Wurmple partner, only has to worry about meddling kids and her outfit’s still ridiculous but now machine washable. And when asked if she missed her old life and friends:

“You know, I’m counting on the old gang trying to find me. Team Galactic is always recruiting.”

----

And there you have it, four satisfied customers from four different worlds finding happiness by discarding their burdensome identities and expectations, and embracing the simple joys of anonymity and hench work. If life’s wearing you down and you need to leave the world behind and find purpose, we at the No One Special Here foundation can help you today. Escape for a week, take a gap year or permanently move, it’s all up to you. Contact us today and let us help you be the nobody you always wanted to be.

[ratherchaseamouse]

Tantomile’s First Heist (2/4 ish)

In which Tantomile opens a door.

Tantomile couldn’t remember ever feeling as breathless as she did right now. She and Rumpleteazer had made it to the gates of Livingstone mansion, where they were catching their breath from the mad dash through London.

There hadn’t been any reason for them to run except for the joy of it. Running between the legs of pedestrians, leaping over puddles, shinnying up fences, it was the most fun Tantomile had in ages. Rumpleteazer running ahead of her, shining and laughing in the midday sun was an added bonus.

There were thick clouds gathering overhead now, and Tantomile felt a jolt of energy go through her to hail the oncoming deluge.

“We’d better get inside before the rain starts,” she said to Rumpleteazer.

“This way,” Rumpleteazer pointed to a part of the fence that had dense shrubs in front of it, perfect for concealing a couple of cats.

They squeezed through the bars and followed the bushes to the side of the mansion with the cellar door Rumpleteazer had indicated in her drawing. A heavy iron padlock sat around the handles. Rumpleteazer turned to Tantomile,

“Can you open it?” She asked.

Tantomile was confused.

“You can’t?” She asked back. Out of the two of them, Tantomile was certainly the least likely to know how to pick a lock. Rumpleteazer shook her head.

“Jerrie always does this part. He’s the smash, I’m the grab,” She shrugged, explaining,

“I figured you could use some of your mojo, yknow?”

“My… what?”

“You know, your magic tricks! I’ve seen you turn lights on and float around and stuff, can you open a lock?”

“My mystical ability is not so simple—”

“Can your mystical ability turn a couple of pins?”

Tantomile sighed. Her magic wasn’t as flashy as a certain other cat in the Junkyard, it was subtle. They were both powerful, mind you, but Mister Mistoffelees was a lightning strike where Tantomile was the noontime tide. Incomparable.

There was also the matter of Coricopat. Tantomile hadn’t done any magic on her own in a very long time, and playing a solo when she was so used to duets would be an adjustment. Still, she didn’t see how else they were getting inside, so she walked up the incline of the door and stood next to the lock. Rumpleteazer looked like she wanted to ask questions, but remained silent for once.

Slowly, Tantomile stretched one leg up into an arabesque. Left arm up. Attitude. Swing to front. Turn left. Tantomile relied on muscle memory to cautiously dance the steps she hoped were right. Something slipped into place in the back of her skull.

Hello? She thought.

What is it you want?

We want to go inside.

That is against my purpose, for I am to keep out those who wish to enter.

Will you let us in?

What would you offer in return?

I have nothing to offer.

Is that true? I am a lock. I have no pockets nor purse, yet I have much to offer. I can give security, loyalty, protection. What can you give?

… What is it you wish for?

The lock paused.

I am old. I have sat here faithfully for many years, battered by rain and wind. When my key is turned my insides screech for lack of care. I would that you free me from my rust.

Tantomile considered. It was a reasonable request, she supposed, for a lock. She grasped at her memory for the steps required to clean and purify, Everlasting, it was so much easier when Coricopat was around. Cautiously, she turned in a slow circle and lifted her arms. Grateful for her early morning stretching, she bent over backwards as far as she could, her tail keeping her balanced. She placed one paw on the lock, and, like an insect shedding its skin, the rust crackled away.

Many thanks.

May we enter?

The lock clicked open.

Tantomile turned to Rumpleteazer and gave her a thumbs up.

Rumpleteazer clapped her hands appreciatively and lifted the door for them both.

They stepped into the cool darkness of the cellar.

~~

This chapter is shorter, but it felt like the right place to end it. The next one should be longer!

[slightlycrazylovelessfamily-blog]

We are back, 8 years later. Why not keep a daily journal of our adventures again, so here we go.

Quotes of the trip:

- Children fill a void you didn’t know you had

Day 1: Tailwind

It seems these days when you take a red eye there is a tailwind. No complaints, just noticing. It isn’t right to complain about tailwinds…bad mojo.

We left JFK around 615pm Saturday, July 30th for Milan. An accident near JFK made it a little tighter than we hoped…perhaps 15 mins before boarding started. Sleeping wasn’t great on the 7.5 hour flight. Dinner was good, a few episodes of The Last Dance for me, Dungeons and Dragons or straight to sleep for others.

We got our 9 passenger VW van (stick shift) and away we went to Lake Como where Stacy had arranged a lunch. As we were approaching the restaurant we saw what looked like Old Town and found a parking spot. Following a local family with a stroller we hit the gold mine. Slowly it changed from sleepy, shutters closed, walking between castles to vibrate market with coffee shops, a beautiful church and lots of people. I tried my first coffee - cappuccino - which wasn’t bad, but I don’t think I’ll be an addict anytime soon.

Putting our plan together to have lunch and get into Milan for a tour of the Duomo Milan - we bought tickets and split up to position the car for a quick getaway. We discover the intricacies of driving in areas that are also plazas for pedestrians - not even sure cars should or could be allowed in, but they were.

Lunch over looking Lake Como was sensational. Private club to the left, lake in front and smiles all around. A nice walk, the sights of water are great for fighting off jet lag.

We drive a little more than an hour to find our airbnb next to a canal, drop off our bags, and zoom off to the Duomo. Again, cutting it tight, the last people are allowed up to the Terrace at 410 and it was 405ish. Not sure what this was all about, we get out of the elevator to find ourselves on the marble roof of a massive cathedral - seemingly as large as any other. It seems to be on the back end of a complete cleaning and restoration project. The detail at the top - where it can’t be seen from the street, is incredible. To walk around in the shade and the sun, was unlike anything we have ever done nor will likely be able to do again. No way you can do this in the US; that said, it was a brilliant way to draw visitors in, have a chance to talk about God, (re)introduce God, create a moment to be grateful, pray for others, imagine what it must have been like to…

For everything I could remember, it seemed like the grandest church I have ever seen. At least 60 marble columns that seemed at least 8 stories tall. FACTS: it is the largest church in Italy, yes largest; 3rd largest in the world and construction started in 1386. There are 52 internal pillars that are 11 feet in diameter and 78 feet tall. It has more statues 3,400+ and gargoyles 135 and 700 figures, than any building in the world. It was incredible, both in beauty and in scale. To imagine this was built so long ago and still a marvel, is incredible. Check the video below of the opera singer outside the Duomo that you could hear singing on the roof, it was like a combination of Fergie and Jesus.

No trip to Europe is complete without at least one church stop, so after checking that off the list we went to our airbnb, an apartment with AC near a main metro stop. After watching Friends episode, the showers started, mom and I went to grab some groceries and dinner. I went to bed about 7 and I’m sure by 830 all was quiet. It had been a great first day that we all powered through.

Day 2: Just like new

Alarms had to be set for 930 to make sure we didn’t sleep to late. We needed to give ourselves time to be out by 11am and on to our next adventure, which was the Cinque Terre town of Monterosso al Mare. About a 3 hour drive toward the Ocean, we got our first taste of winding, narrow roads that seem like Cat Rock Road. A temperamental transmission rearing its head and opposing drivers that seem to like the middle of the narrow road made it a good intro for the legendary Amalfi Coast road ahead. Our mirror got its first hit, but once we got to our destination we realized it just popped into place and it was just like new.

The drive into town and to our apartment was only doable with google maps, it would be hard to describe otherwise. Our parking spot could only be introduced to us with video, again to hard to describe in native language, much less another. It required a key, a gate, faith and being good at using the clutch going up hill. The walk back was twice as quick, again, with a sense of adventure, a little faith and lots of luck, we found a trail as if we were locals.

Quick change and head to the beach - smiles and happiness were instantly found in the blue waters of the Ligurian Sea. A big rock was a great place to swim out, climb and jump back into the water - Piper holds the record for number of jumps.

Again, I’m reminded the common happy place is near water, ideally a beach with waves.

A walk, a return to the apartment, showers and a plan for dinner emerges. Catina Miky is found and devoured. Date night for me and Stacy with the kids at a separate table. Both tables started with anchovies, which is the speciality of the area, which was great. Stacy and I had two more fish courses of specialities but still saved room for gelato. Two and half hours for dinner in Italy requires the neutral gear; perhaps at some point I’ll be able to be so chill, I won’t need to ask for the check.

We head out of the restaurant to find a full moon so close it seemed we could reach out and touch it.

Day 3

[starlightmeadowbloom]

The Animation of My Favourites; Cuphead

This is the post I would like to show you all, there are so many that I have to pick the best one. I thought Cuphead would be a good start since the Cuphead Show is coming this fall in Netflix which I’m so excited about.

🌈Roll or Die | (Cuphead Cartoon Rap Battle), full animatic

(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DWUsz7jT-No)

What I like about this is that it somehow show what it would look like if someone would make a music video with the song (the Cuphead rap battle). In fact, yellow-py on YouTube somehow made the best Cuphead characters when it comes to songs that inspired Cuphead. When it comes to ‘wake us up inside’ chorus, I just love when the cup-bros were facing the bosses who has yellowy-gold eyes as a sign a ready to fight the final round. The animatic looks closer to characters in the game, the best storyboards.

The video came out in 26 Oct 2018 with 4,118,151 views and 37K likes when I last saw it.🌈

🌈🎉🎵CUPHEAD CARTOON RAP BATTLE: PART 1 & 2🎵

(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dZT15vuD20U)

The final animatic for this was epic! I kept watching repeatedly like five times a day for two, full of colours and more details. It was definitely a legend for the game to have this fully made as a music video. (It’s like my dream came true.) I mean, each bosses rap their personality with no fear until the chorus hits which I find it like ‘okay, I’m ready for round two’. The song seems to be the best one ever with this fantastic animatic!

The video came out in 22 Nov 2018 with 125,131,358 views and 950K likes when I last saw it.🎉🌈

⭐Greedy Rough Animatic

(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Umv6ZE2u8Qc)

Both best song and animatic ever! The reason why? Because it shown great detail of personality for the Devil (along with King Dice when the chorus ‘nowhere to run, nowhere to go’ played). This would be the best welcoming and boss battle because I’ve got few ideas for the future… Anyhoo, it would be great with colours but it still the best music video. Ichi-CooCoo on YouTube should give more credit to make it a re-animatic…

The video came out in 28 Jan 2018 with 592,365 views and 14K likes when I last saw it.⭐

🎉Cuphead the Musical - A fan animatic

(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qSmsT28J-WQ)

This one is very good because it add colours and details. Also loving the song that kinda sounds like you are in the musical theatre. I wonder if there going to be a proper musical after the Cuphead Show on Netflix… Anyhoo, the same YouTuber yellow-py has made a good effort for this animatic.

The video came out in 8 Jul 2018 with 6,931,247 views and 88K likes when I last saw it.🎉

❤Cuphead Animation (King Dice Song)

(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RG93ETV_OD8)

Someone who made this animation should give a lot of credit because they used FlipaClip which is an app that you can make your own animation. At the moment, I tried to do my own but this may going to take long. Anyhoo, GgBen animations did a splendid job for doing King Dice and other characters. I just hope that the YouTuber would be planning on fully colouring and polishing this in the future because for the FlipaClip is the best app to use when you want to do some great ideas of animation. Now, I felt like this would be perfect for the Cuphead Show or as a music video…

The video came out in 22 Sept 2019 with 27,988 views and 803 likes when I last saw it.❤

💙Friends On the Other Side (CUPHEAD ANIMATIC)

(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2Jt9MyksVYU)

Both of my favourite song and animation, again! I suddenly felt like that Dr. Facilier is my head-cannon voice for King Dice, or maybe Wayne Brady as King Dice! Although, I wish DeVillefor on YouTube should make a full scene for this because it looks so epic!

The video came out in 22 Dec 2017 with 339,754 views and 21K likes when I last saw it.💙

🌟The Other Side | Cuphead Animatic

(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AZb2vp8wtic)

I don’t know why but this is a perfect fit! I mean, imagine; Casino Cups! And that would have this song as Cuphead made a deal with King Dice so he and his brother would work with the Devil since they tried to find a job.

The video came out in 19 May 2018 with 30,180 views and 1.1K likes when I last saw it.🌟

♥♦♠♣♔FINALE♔- King Dice [LYRIC COMIC]

(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=P0U6GuWfoWk)

Zaraegis is the best animator ever! I like when she created comics and animations when it comes to Cuphead. I like ‘Guity’, ‘Don’t Mess with Me’ and ‘Crown’ but the Final is the best one yet! I even had some theory about this battle and that King Dice is one badass gentleman and the Devil regrets it giving him some powers that turned against him. I wish there’s something I could do to help her get her mojo back… I mean, like… The moment when King Dice shuts the door, and the info pans up to show him with that sinister smirk was so badass. It's got to be almost my favourite moment in the finale before it head to ‘I am the people’ chorus. I love the whole thing, from beginning to end. All the songs fit the comics extremely well, the art style is awesome, and I was incredibly invested in the plot. While it’s sadded me a bit that the series ended, especially because I am a bit curious about what C&M has been up to in this verse (especially because they are most likely going to notice that the Devils Casino is now owned by KD), this was still a great conclusion non the less.

The video came out in 21 Mar 2019 with 462,652 views and 12K likes when I last saw it.♣♠♦♥

🌹Me and the Devil [CUPHEAD FAN ANIMATIC]

(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZROxzO58PwQ)

This is very interesting… The moment I saw this, my whole world seems to stop as my thoughts came to build even more ideas of theory about the Cuphead Show. I mean, it is a little fantasy of King Dice’s story. I loves the song with the drawing, it’s so perfect, by the way, beautiful drawing style. And I also can find very easily when I noticed no one seem to watch this music video…

The video came out in 24 Jun 2019 with 2,849 views and 172 likes when I last saw it.🌹

[obeymeluv]

Red String of Fate (Pt. 2)

See “Red String of Fate” for the drabble lead up + Lucifer, Mammon, and Asmo. This post has Levi, Satan, Belphie, and Beel

To Levi:

Doesn’t understand what it is

Tries to shake it off without breaking his game mojo

Ends up getting it accidentally wrapped around the joysticks, losing the match, and spends the next few minutes silently fuming and trying to untangle everything

His tail slaps angrily against the floor as he grumbles and huffs, trying to be extremely delicate with whatever disaster this is

 Finally succeeds and stares at his finger in silence for a few seconds, trying to pick the knot.

Starts trying to pull it off. It doesn’t work.

Asks his friends what it could be

Asks whatever the Devildom equivalent of Google is

Makes the “OooOOOOooh!” because this sounds like a sure thing?! A definite soulmate?!

THERE IS SOMEONE FOR HIM, A LOWLY, YUCKY OTAKU?!

Levi explodes out of his room like the aquarium has busted and will flood the whole house

His pupils are doing the slit-narrow hyperfocused hunter thing as he tracks the red string like an enemy through a scope

Accidentally mows you down trying to speed walk to the end of the string.

Is super excited about the string now. HOW LONG IS IT? WHERE DOES IT GO? WHO’S AT THE END?!

You hear his tail wagging and slapping things before you see him, and that’s 0.5 seconds before he mows into you.

Accidentally steps on your foot in the process, so you fall in an graceless lump.

Levi’s pulling at the string like an excited kid. WHERE DOES IT GO, WHERE DOES IT GO? WHERE DOES IT GO?

Realizes he’s pulling your hand up and tugs on it a little in disbelief. Ends up making you wave at him and he gives a little giggle.

Then it hits him all over again and you get another “OooOOOOoooH!”

Scoops you up off the floor, tail wagging enough to take the breath out of Asmo.

He holds you to his chest and feels like some victorious Henry. Hopes the lighting is good and that this moment is as magical for you as it is for him. (Does his hair look good?). The pinky-red smoke is basically like a cool anime effect, right?

Levi gives the shyest, softest ‘mine’, as he cradles you to his chest. He purrs a little, tucking his tail up towards your body, basically offering it for you to hold.

His room is your little private palace. He hopes you like it.

To Satan:

Was quite content minding his own business, reading for pleasure after a long day of reading for necessity (i.e: school)

Doesn’t really feel it at first. He turns a page and hears this absolutely maddening drag of a scrape that makes him want to stab someone.

Sees the string. Tries to flick it off. Proceeds to shake his finger. That doesn’t work, so he tries to roll it off or at least roll it to the tip of his finger

Satan slams his book down with a furrow in his brow and transitions to his demon form. Starts trying to fray it with his claws. When chewing on it and trying to break it on his horns don’t work, he stalks up his bookshelves to find the section on Hexes and Curses

Imagine his surprise (and yours) when you and Asmo enter his room. The supposed love or your life is in full demon form and splayed across his bookshelves like a spitting lizard. Or a dragon defending its hoard.

Asmo is BEYOND disappointed. Kind of aggravated. “THE worst way to find a soulmate EVER!” Asmo picks up the closest book and throws it at him for good measure (it misses by a long shot).

He yanks on the string, trying to rip him off the bookshelf.

Satan drops down, already back to his normal form by the time he lands on his feet, and stomps over with mild indignation that someone could call him THE WORST at something

Also: what the hell is going on?!

Asmo explains and Satan goes very, very red. He’s completely at a loss.

Well...at least he knows you’re a sure thing! In a way, it’s good to know you’ll have someone no matter how much of an ass you make of yourself

You take the hand from his mouth, the pinky-red smoke seeming to frame you both, and jokingly ask if he has any good books to take your mind off things.

“Certainly, but perhaps you’d be more interested to hear about that over dinner?” (”That’s better!” Asmo nods and crosses his arms, walking out of the room as if he fixed the problem).

To Beel:

You should be grateful he was already at the House of Lamentation, having a post-homework snack, when the red string appear.

Who knows how hard or how far you’d be dragged if he was at sports practice?!

Beel doesn’t notice it until his next bite, when something catches against his fangs and slips out of his mouth. It tickled his lips and made him do a double-take

He’s in the middle of sucking sauce off his finger when he confirms the string is not flavored or edible.

Is kind of annoyed he has to switch to eating with one hand

Wants to ignore it because he can still reach the fridge and cabinets but gets annoyed when it catches across the table and tries to knock over little things like salt and pepper shakers

Takes a big bite of his current food item (a sandwich), sets it down, and starts fishing through the draws for knives

None of the knives work. He has moved to the cleavers

Chips away at some of the prep table so he stops with the cleavers.

Tries to burn it off. Does not work

Beel isn’t sure what to do, so he grabs his sandwich and goes to Lucifer

On the way to Lucifer, he hears Asmo crow down the hall “AHHH! IT’S TO BEEL! MY DARLING BABY BROTHER! OOH, THE CUTEST! IT’S PERFECT!” way before he sees him or you

This lovely big boi just stands there, a little confused and expecting Asmo to explain it (as he always does. Asmo always has something to talk about)

Asmo’s got you by the arm and is running towards Beel. Beel finally notices the excess of red string, and that you’re tangling in it.

You fall against him and a cloud of sweet pinky-red smoke explodes around him.

Smells like sweets should taste. He wants some Celestial Realm sweets now

“A soulmate, huh?” Beelzebub looks down at you. His cheeks slowly pinken as that genuine but sly smile spreads on his face. There could be worse people, for sure. “Want to go celebrate?” he gives you the biggest puppy dog eyes.

You can’t say no. Beel holds your hand all the way to the restaurant.

To Belphegor:

There is a new texture near him and he doesn’t like it

Belphie doesn’t open his eyes, but he tries to adjust his blankets and pillows until he doesn’t feel it

When this doesn’t work and he sense the thing is still around, Belphie opens his eyes to see he’s tied up in the stuff

Grumpy, sleepy boy

Demon chirps/churrs for Beel to help him

After his big bro helps him untangle, Belphie sulks around, dragging his pillow, to figure out where this thing goes and what the hell it is

Probably tries to fry it with a bit of magic, but it fizzles out the second sparks touch the string.

Belphie may be the sleepy kind of lazy, but he knows his magic spells. That one SHOULD work.

A spark of interest has him a little more awake now. Belphie straightens up and walks a little lighter

“I didn’t expect anything grand since Belphie’s so tired, but this has its own charm.” Asmo critiques, touching a few fingers to his lips to smother a giggle.

Belphie does look quite adorable, standing there with a dash of confusion amongst his exhaustion. Bonus points for his cute little pillow dragging the floor behind him.

All of the bros know better than to mess with his naps and Belphie’s glare is slowly powering up. Asmo has a few seconds to explain before Belphie knocks him into the nearest wall with the pillow. It WILL hurt.

Asmo keeps teasing and hemming and hawing, and it’s not until the pillow is literally over Belphie’s shoulder (gearing up for the down-swing) that Asmo blurts out “SOULMATES! YOU HAVE A SOUL MATE! THEY ARE YOUR SOUL MATE!”

You become the sacrificial lamb, Asmo shoving you towards Belphegor to save his hair (mostly)

The pillow slides over the top of your head and down your back as Belphegor slowly brings his arms around you in a hug. A nervous hug. A shocked hug.

Someone like him gets a soulmate? That almost seems to generous.

That pinky-red smoke explodes in his face. Belphie sneezes cutely. Cuter than he’d like to own up to.

The action causes him to bump his head against you. At first it hurts but his brain quickly overrules the inconvenience to realize how nice your hair is and how he can lean his head on you

His body melts into yours and Belphie barely has the forethought to tuck the pillow under your head as his body weight sends you both crashing to the floor.

Totally ignores Asmo yelling “BELPHIE, NO!” in the background as he tries to catch you or prop you up. Belphie actually slaps him with his tail and continues to the fall to the floor.

The pillow will protect you. He has full confidence

“Sleepy,” he mutters, readjusting his head until it fits nicely in the curve of your neck. He kind of wishes he brought a blanket.

You tentatively pat his head and play with his hair. Belphie purrs, tail sweeping the floor.

[reallyhardydraws]

insp by what could come after @look-at-your-shattered-children‘s fic practically married, with some flower advice from @ladytrelaw … so have a drawing and a ficlet from me!

In the end they go for the smallest possible ceremony, just a little affair in Bristol’s city hall. Dea chooses a dress by touch, picking one in satin that swirls around her legs and makes her feel like Titania amongst the forest tangles. By smell she chooses lavender, of course, and weaves a stem into the braid in her hair, along with a few sprigs of baby’s breath because she’s heard they’re traditional, and a few larger chicory blossoms because Gwyn always said they remind him of her.

Gwyn himself wears charcoal grey and a bolo tie with a cold metal clasp, on which there’s the raised design of a wolf, and Dea had delighted in feeling out the point of its little snout. Looks like Mojo, she’d said, and Mojo had woofed his agreement. It had been her father’s, of course, since he’d had his western phase as a young man and Gwyn couldn’t be convinced into wearing a real tie come hell or high water, (though if you asked Dea, she’d say he was really only griping for show, and truly wanted nothing other than to wear the thing, with it being so special to Ursus.)

Of course she wears Gwyn’s mother’s bracelet, her something borrowed for years now, and elects Josiana her maid of honour, because as soon as Dea had mentioned wedding bells around her she’d essentially claimed the position for herself. And that’s alright - Dea’s world is little and once they’d got over their initial jealousy about each other, the two young women found they got along much better than anyone expected them to, what with their similar passions for Gothic romance and tragic theatre. Jojo had thrown herself into dress shopping and hairstyle choices and creating invitations for all of the three extra guests in attendance, and when Dea had found herself teary eyed on the morning of the event, Josiana had been the one to wipe away her tears and hug her tightly before they got into their dresses.

She meets Gwyn now at the altar, Mojo having led her up the aisle, and Gwyn reaches for her hands and holds them tight as Angelica, in the role of officiant, speaks. Together, they say all the necessary responses, and giggle like the schoolchildren they’d been when they first met once they hear the words I now pronounce you married. They kiss and Gwyn has been unmasked from the start, it’s only their dearest friends around anyway, (and everyone in attendance will say afterwards that in the springtime light pouring through the windows, you could hardly see his scars for his smile and the overjoyed tears in his eyes.)

Dea can feel those scars crinkle under her fingers as she holds his face in her hands, her mouth moving against his for a sweet, chaste moment before they pull away, and then they’re husband and wife. And someone snaps a photo and everyone cheers, and suddenly she and Gwyn are the sweet bubble-gum centre in a group-hug lollipop, with Osric’s good arm flung around Gwyn’s neck, and Ursus’s hands on Dea’s shoulders, and David and Jojo squeezing them around the outside, Angelica dragged somewhere into there too.

Together they emerge into the sunlight, and the perfume of roses hits Dea’s nose as tossed petals fly in her face and settle on her hair and shoulders. She holds on tight to Gwyn’s arm and presses her forehead into his shoulder and breathes deeply, deeply.

When they all get back to the house, (with a few white streamers pinned to the walls and a few vases of fragrant flowers on the sturdier surfaces,) Ursus gives a speech, a toast. He takes them all back to the day a scruffy twelve-year-old Gwyn had rescued a tiny eleven-year-old Dea and how, with some coaxing, he’d stuck around afterwards – and just how glad Ursus is that he did so. To my darling girl, he finishes, and my strong, brave lad. May you have many happy years together. May you never have to be apart for long. Beside her, with her hand on his back, Dea can feel a sob bubble up in Gwyn’s chest.

And they all drink, and the dining room table’s been turned into a buffet of home-made delicacies - pierogi and a huge pot of bigos from Angelica, she’d gotten the recipes during her studies in Poland, a selection of misshapen sandwiches because that was the best David and Osric could manage on a team effort and their combined culinary knowledge (which was negligible). There’s a cheeseboard Ursus put together based on a cookbook from 1978, and a cake Josiana commissioned from the best baker in the city - a three tier sponge with sweet buttercream and delicate sugar flowers. An hour later Osric climbs into the sofa with his shoes on and he’d be reprimanded on any other day, but today he gets away with it and gets to give a somewhat tipsy toast of his own, Gwyn, Dea, congratulations! Best ceremony I’ve ever been to, I think, bar that time I stumbled in on a biker wedding in Glasgow – yours a much classier affair I have to say, hey, good on ye!

You’ll be next! someone shouts up at him. Osric sticks out his tongue and gives a drunken chortle, stumbling down from the sofa before flinging his good arm lazily around David’s shoulders, spilling his champagne flute in the process. Jojo fiddles with plugging her phone into the stereo speakers so that they can dance - it’s no expensive wedding reception but they clear a little space in the kitchen for a dance floor and pair up, first father-and-bride and then maid-of-honour-and-bride and then bride-and-tipsy-dundonian and bride-and-tipsy-dundonian’s-boyfriend ‘til finally Dea finds herself in Gwynplaine Trelaw’s unmistakable arms.

“Hello,” he says, bending close to her. “We’re married.”

“Yes,” she replies, giggling. “That we are.”

After so long being practically married, she has to say it doesn’t feel all that different, or at least not yet, but she’s happier than she can express that all their friends were there to witness it happen. And she’s very happy with her dress, the slippery-smooth feel of it just like magic.

“I'm…” Gwyn starts. “I’m really happy. I mean, I didn’t think I wouldn’t be, but now that we’re here…”

“You’re right,” Dea says. “It’s wonderful, isn’t it? Maybe we should get married every week, so we can always feel like this. We could go to Las Vegas.”

“Oh really,” Gwyn replies, wrapping his arms around her waist. “Or we could do a destination wedding and head somewhere tropical.”

“The Bermuda Triangle!” Dea says, thrilled. “And then we’ll honeymoon in Dracula’s castle.”

Suddenly, Gwyn’s lifting her in the air and laughing as he spins them, like he almost never does, like he doesn’t care at all, like everything’s wonderful. Because everything is! Everything’s wonderful, right now, and Dea shrieks with surprised laughter too, still giggling when he sets her safely back down.

“I love you,” Gwyn says, breathless, like he’s so happy he could sing. “I love you.”

“I love you,” says Dea, “I’m going to tell you every day, 'til you’re sick of it.”

“I couldn’t ever be!” Gwyn says, and he twirls her, and they dance. They dance, and their friends dance with them long into the night, and they hold each other tight until everyone else has gone home, and then they dance once more even after all the music has been switched off, when they’re just in their pajamas and the flowers that had been in Dea’s hair are now in the sink, and they hold each other tight until the morning. 

There’s a ring on Dea’s finger, and a matching one on Gwyn’s. And Dea thinks, yes, they might just have to get married a few more times, because after all, she really likes her dress. It’d be a shame if she only got to wear it once.

[i-am-trying-my-best-okay]

So. The powerpuff girls reboot. And the leaked script. It doesn’t look super great right now. HOWEVER, I think it’s salvageable. Or at the very least it can be something that I can personally self indulge in. 

So if they’re going to make the show in the same direction it’s going now, with the powerpuff girls breaking up and coming together again umbrella academy style, I don’t think it needs to be because of them just not liking being powerpuff girls or because the professor was abusive or something, again umbrella academy style. But, there was an interesting bit about how Blossom killed mojo jojo, and to my knowledge, I don’t think the powerpuff girls ever killed anyone before? Beaten them to a bloody pulp that they might be better off dead, yes, but actually kill, nope. Also, they’re children, so that adds another layer of the trauma of killing someone since kids sometimes have a harder time knowing how to deal with difficult feelings. So they took a break probably, but then that break just dragged on for years and years and they just never got back into the game. Also, there are probably other superhero's in this world, so they probably took over Townsville for the powerpuff girls. Now the three girls are trying to deal with the trauma of that night, and maybe some other kinds of trauma as well, and in doing so they did shift away from each other. So this is how the first episode could go;

So Mojo has a son named Jojo, which I don’t want so I’m cutting that. Personally, I want Princess to come back having evolved as a supervillain. Her dad’s probably long dead at this point, so she learned how to take care of herself with the infinite money her dad left her. But she’s not going solo anymore, she has a whole organization behind her now. So I guess the first scene will show Princess talking to some guy about a deal that didn’t fall through, so she just kills him in cold blood and asks her partners, aka the rowdyruff boys to clean it up. Honestly Princess is a bit of a mafia leader now, as in she has connections and control over practically every criminal. They probably have some banter, and I’d like to think that the rowdyruff boys matured as they grew older so they’re not just like ‘ew a girl’, so Princess and them are actually pretty tight. They kinda all acted mostly the same to me, so I think in the reboot they should mirror the powerpuff girls more, but not by having similar personalities to the powerpuff girls but instead the opposite, like Brick is more of the irresponsible and impulsive one, Butch is probably more level headed and the most empathetic of the three, and Boomer is the type to take every insult directed towards him as a joke and incredibly vicious. Princess still acts all high and mighty, but now she can actually back that up. They probably all met after the powerpuff girls moved away, where I imagine they were trying to do the exacts same crime at the same time, so the rowdeyruff boys and Princess tried to one up each other but then they had so much fun with it that they decided to stick together. Anyway, so now they’re trying to plan some epic crime, which I don’t know what it is.

And then cutting away from that, it’s the professors birthday, and so the powerpuff girls come back to Townsville, as I’d like to imagine they always meet up on the professor’s birthday. The professor had tried to help the girls the best he could as they grew up, he researched about trauma and tried to get them therapy but it didn’t seem to work out, and as the girls had grown older they started going down these darker paths that he didn’t know how to stop, so now he’s got all this self loathing, thinking that if he was so smart he could have just done even more research and found the right thing to fix all this. But anyway the girls come back and we get caught up on what’s going on in their lives. Buttercup, honestly, I imagine her doing something like assassination or something along those lines. After the death of mojo jojo she kinda became desensitized to the idea of murder, and she was always the more violent one of her sisters anyways, so she just kinda figured if she was a murderer she might as well lean into the idea, since Blossom was the one that delivered the final blow but I bet all three of them had a hand in it. Bubbles is an artist now, not super well known but well known enough that she gets a steady string of commissions. But most of her drawings are very gory, as ever since that night she was unable to draw anything else, but it was fine since she actually liked drawing it, but people around her thought it was weird which made her self conscious about it, plus she does want to branch out and draw other stuff but she just can’t. And as for Blossom, she’s probably the biggest mess out of them all, but not outwardly. She pushes it all down, which sometimes results in these panic attacks and delusions of mojo jojo. So she’s a lawyer now, since I feel like she cared the most about justice out of the three, and she still wants to carry that out, just not in the same way. She’s kinda infamous for being that really strange lawyer that only takes up clients she believes are deserving of her defense, which results in her being kinda poor but she doesn't’ care. Anyway, I think that even though the girls are separated most of the time and they have their own issues with each other, they still care for each other and act very close. 

At some point they probably run into Princess and the rowdyruff boys again, and they’re surprised to find them together. Princess and the rowdyruff boys claim that they’ve turned over a new leaf, and technically everyone else thinks so too since their crimes are now much more secretive, although still pretty violent. They actually manage to get along rather well, although Buttercup doesn’t believe them at all, Blossom is pretty skeptical but open minded, and Bubbles believes them completely. So then they go back to celebrating the professors birthday, but then, at some point, I imagine the professor gets caught up in the middle of a robbery of sorts, and the girls step in and save him, defeating the robbers. It’s after this that Buttercup actually decides to become a superhero again, realizing that she really missed it, regardless of whether or not her sisters join her. Concerned for her, Blossom and Bubbles reluctantly join her, mostly to convince her to stop. And then we go back to Princess and the rowdyruff boys, who discuss that the powerpuff girls getting back together could prove to be a problem in their big overarching goal.

So that’s what I would have done with the story if I was given the script and asked to rewrite it while making it still close to the original point. This is probably still trash, but it’s trash that I can enjoy at least.

[swift--fox]

Maybe Death Does Know a Thing or Two... And Dean

Part twwwwwooooo!!! to this fic right here! With the help of @pissbabydean, we got through it somehow! Thanks babe. ily!

Also @wordstrings thank you for this prompt idea! I was going to tage you in the last one and then I was stupid.

~~~

Dean’s a whore. Cas provides. And is also an asshole. Sam hates them both.

~~~

“So, Dean? What’s it going to be?” Cas asked, silky smooth next to Dean’s ear.

“I-I...” Dean tried, but nothing came out. He was still stiff as a board, eyes trained on the door. It looked so appealing, but the burning on his back from where the fingers were laid kept him from moving towards it.

After a long thirty seconds that felt more like eons to Dean, he felt maybe actions were easier than words right now. He allowed his arms to relax, and he moved them away from his sides. Ever so slightly, and only a couple of inches. He could feel his hands shaking.

“Is that your answer?” Cas asked, teasingly. His voice ran deeper than normal, causing Dean to have to fight the urge to scrunch his neck up to his ears.

He gave a weak nod, eyes still trained on the door. His arms reeled back into place, glued to his sides, as soon as Cas’s whirred to life. They gently scratched at the hollows of his ribs, hitting every pocket of nerves they could in the soft flesh between bone.

Dean was already laughing. The vulnerability he became subject to in their previous conversation heightened his senses. He leaned back into Cas, trying to use him for stability. Cas stepped back, gently helping Dean to the floor, never stopping the onslaught to his sensitive sides.

Once Dean was laying flat on his back, Cas stopped in order to swivel himself around, landing on Dean’s lap. The door was no longer an option he thought, as he stared up into the angels eyes. They held the look of mischief, and sadism. Two looks Dean had never seen cross the other man's features before now. Both that would have terrified him in any other situation. But here, now, all he felt was a nervous excitement.

Cas placed his hands on Dean’s sides again, just holding them there. He felt the stomach under him tense and suck in, while the hunter squirmed lightly under his hold. He didn’t move, though - not yet. He wanted Dean to stew before he attacked.

Dean’s eyes went wide as he felt nimble fingers reach for his sides, already squirming. When the fingers didn’t move though, he felt himself involuntarily sucking in his stomach, a feeble attempt at averting the soon-coming onslaught. When the fingers still did not move, he screwed his eyes shut. The tension began to build to an almost intolerable level.

That’s all Cas needed to finally dig in. His fingers squeezed the sensitive flanks twice, before deliberately wiggling into the soft flesh. He revelled in the gasp and the loud, bright laughter it brought out of his hunter. He felt frantic hands grappling at his forearms. His angelic strength kept them from having much effect, though he could tell there was no real strength behind them. More instinct than anything else.

Dean’s eyes flew wide at the first pinch, his arms immediately squeezed to his sides at the second. His hands flew to grab at Cas’s hands, more to ground himself rather than push him away. Once Cas started kneading, he screamed from the built up anticipation and release. He writhed and bucked under the grinning angel, his laughter taking on different pitches and qualities as Cas migrated from spot to spot - these reactions were duly noted in the back of his mind. 

“Cas! Cahahahas! Wahahait!” Dean screeched, the first words he’d spoken since wanting to run for the door.

He was in the middle of an admittedly cruel assault of his underarms, though Cas noted Dean still wasn’t putting up much of a fight - certainly not what the hunter was capable of (in fact, he was almost sure Dean had loosened his arms so he could get to the protected skin)- when he realised how loud the hunter had started to become. He uncurled his fingers from where they were digging into the soft flesh and trailed them down his sides, feather-light, to rest at his waistband. Dean’s laughter had tapered off into almost-giggly breathing while he tried to catch his breath.

“Dean, if you continue screaming like that, Sam is bound to hear you.” Cas smirked down, meeting the hunter’s gaze.

Dean bristled and glowered up at the smug angel.

“I was not screaming,” He huffed, an insult sitting on the tip of his tongue. It never made its way out though, as Cas’s fingers decided that was the best time to dip into his waistband. He clamped his arms down and frantically batted at the intruding digits.

“Play nice, or I’ll give you a reason to scream,” He tutted, “I built you up from nothing, I know exactly how to tear you back down.”

A jolt of anxiety laced excitement ran down Dean’s spine and he sucked in a sharp breath with a hiss as he curled his toes. 

“I’ve been to hell and back. I can handle you,” He challenged, hiding his nerves behind an easy smirk.

“You are very confident for a man in your current position-” Castiel dipped down to right beside Dean’s ear, fingers wiggling to life, gently playing with the skin right above his waistband. “Maybe we should find out how long that confidence will last.”

Dean’s breath hitched, and shut his eyes. Before his brain could comprehend what his mouth was saying, he blurted, “Bring it.”

“Of course. But remember; keep it down. You scream, and I stop. You don’t want that, do you?”

Dean swallowed and didn’t reply, words failing him as he surveyed the predatory and calculating look on the other man. But, actions did speak louder than words, didn’t they? 

He stuck out his tongue. 

Castiel, the winged sadistic bastard, drilled right into his hips. 

His thumbs massaged, rubbed, vibrated along the hypersensitive ridges of bone while his fingers fluttered and scritched at his sides. Dean’s mouth fell open in what was going to be a scream until Cas leaned down and licked a stripe up his neck. The unprecedented and ticklish sensation ended up tangling his tortured scream with a choked snort and he just ended up coughing.

He was a little more prepared to fight against the urge to just screech until his vocal chords tapped out, but it didn’t stop choked laughter from spilling out between his lips. As hard as he tried to keep himself under control, there was only so much he could stop from bubbling to the surface. With his smile wide, he could only pull his lips back in a scowl for a few seconds. But it was long enough for Cas to notice the strangled surprise flash across his features.

“You look surprised, Dean. Did you think I was bluffing?” He teased, skating his hand over to spider at the center of his abdomen - the soft spot just under his ribs that made him toss his head back and tumble into full-belly laughter that he was having a hard time stifling. 

“You’re being very inconsiderate to Sam. All this laughing is surely going to disturb him, I thought I told you to keep quiet.” 

“Screhehehew off!” Dean rebutted and a few particularly bright giggles slipped out. Cas was almost sad he was making Dean hold them and their brethren in. 

Oh well - another time, then.

And, yeah, he had a feeling there was going to be a next time - if the reactions, no matter how held back and muted, were anything to go by. Dean was just covering his face with his hands, attempting to stuff his fist in his mouth while his eyes were pricked with tears of mirth. 

He looked beautiful, not particularly more so than usual, just...different. Lighter. It was the kind of beauty that left you feeling like some of it rubbed off on you. Castiel decided he liked Dean like this more than he thought he did. The hunter never failed to surprise him.

He was brought out of his thoughts when he started hearing wheezing. He lightened his fingers, drawing light circles around his sides, waiting for Dean’s laughter to taper off. Once his held-back cackles died out into heavy breaths mixed with light happy giggles, he allowed his sadist mask to fall for a moment.

“Are you doing okay? Do you need me to stop?” He asked.

Dean shook his head, “I juhuhust need to cahatch my breath,” he scrubbed  a hand down his face, wiping the small line of sweat that accumulated above his brow.

The angel nodded, before pressing a hand to Dean’s chest, while he kept the other at his side, still tracing teasing circles. A wave of grace entered his lungs, filling them up with air and removing the residing ache. “Better?”

Dean’s eyes widened slightly. He forgot about angel mojo. But as he took a few breaths, he nodded, feeling rejuvenated.

“Good, because I’m not finished with you yet.” Cas’s sadistic smirk reappeared.

Deans nervous giggles returned before they jumped back to mirth filled laughter. There was skittering along his inner thighs, but he could feel Cas’s one hand on his chest and the other still teasing at his side.

“C-Cahahahas, what eheheheis thahahat?” He tried kicking his legs out, but the sensation never relented.

“Giving you your strength back made me realize, I have been neglecting to use the best way to torture you. My grace.” Cas said matter of factly.

“Th-that ihihis so unfahahahair Ah- Cas, nohoho!” Dean clapped a hand over his mouth trying to stifle his laughter, as he felt the invisible force rise up, forcing its way into every groove of his hips. 

He felt it scrape along the edges of bone, and vibrate into the dips where his abdomen met leg. He could almost feel it under his skin and even in his bones.  In a feeble attempt to muffle the screaming cackles that were being forced from his throat, he grabbed whatever was closest to him- which just so happened to be Castiel’s trench coat covered arm, still lazily resting on his chest- and stuffed it into his mouth. He bit down, thankfully on just fabric, and screamed into his angels forearm.

Dean lasted a total of 37 seconds before succumbing to silent laughter. Cas continued the onslaught on his hips for a few more, before finally moving his grace up his sides, and rolled off the hunter. He curled around himself, giggling like a mad man.

As the grace slowly subsided from Deans waist, so did his laughter, until the only sound filling the room was his panting. Once his breathing calmed, Cas stood up, offering a hand to help the other onto wobbly legs and walking him to the library couch. 

Once close enough to the cushions, he let his body tumble, laying on his back, eyes closed. He threw an arm over his head, a small smile still noticeable. Cas took a moment to take in the sight. He was in awe. He didn’t recognise the Dean Winchester splayed out in front of him. The angry, pissed off, World on his shoulders hunter had been replaced with a soft, happy, free human being. They still had another apocalypse to derail, that they knew nothing about yet. But it would still be there tomorrow.

Cas grabbed the lore book he was reading before Dean had walked in, and lifted the tired man’s head, sneaking himself underneath. They stayed like that the rest of the day, Cas’s hands tethered in his hunters hair while Dean took a well deserved break from the fight.

~~~

Four years and three apocalypses later, when Chuck became the most recent bad guy in a long list of bad guys, and brought up Death’s previous pastimes, Dean and Cas shared a look. A knowing look. A shared inside joke between the two of them. Perhaps Chuck brought it up to let them know he knew. Or maybe he didn’t know, and was just bantering about Billie.

Either way, if it weren’t for Death, Dean and Cas would have never gotten together. Maybe he really did know what the hell he was talking about all those years ago.

And as for Sam, well. Dean never really was as quiet as he thought. Sam just learned when to leave the bunker before being subject to listening to them again.

[silyabeeodess]

FusionFall Headcanons: Mandy

Despite her own agenda, Mandy has never been one to simply let evil run rampant.  Earth is still her home, and any danger someone like Fuse poses to it is just as much a threat to herself.  With a steely determination matched only by her wit, she’ll make certain that Planet Fusion’s days are numbered.  

Several episodes/movies of GAOBAM like “Billy and Mandy’s Big Boogey Adventure” highlight Mandy’s ultimate goal for world domination and just how dangerously close she can get to it--a trait that carries over in FusionFall through her plans to create an army of her own during Mojo Jojo’s guide missions.  The main reasons she stops other villains rather than helps them is because she wants to be the main one in control with any sort of takeover done on her terms.  Meanwhile, episodes like “Scary Poppins”  would indicate that Mandy already has a large amount of power/influence in at least Endsville, but chooses not to use it as much as she could. Given that there’s little holding her back in this scenario, she might be weighing all of the potential risks such as the large number of heroes that would stand against her and that she personally may lack the strength to maintain her control were she to gain it.  Basically, she’s taking smaller steps that would fly under most people’s notice and bidding her time for the right moment to act.

Nevertheless, as villainous as Mandy can be, she has acted out of seemingly selfless desires before, her friendship with Billy being the most obvious.  True, Billy would make a decent pawn for her, but she’s also had to clean up a lot of his messes and has been shown to genuinely care for his well-being.  It was her plan that saved his pet hamster, Mr. Snuggles, when the two first met Grim.  She gives advice to Jeff the Spider and treats him well.  Even thought she’s not a fan of Christmas and didn’t believe in Santa until she saw him, her first plan was to go after the Head Vampire to save him and the holiday.  She even tried being kind to Mindy when she first moved to Endsville out of sympathy--before ultimately getting annoyed and telling her to shut up.  This fits her status as more of an antihero than true villain.      

Three traits Mandy seems to value most are intelligence, loyalty, and honesty:

She has respect for those who can match her wits even if they’re not always on her side.  We see this a small bit in “The Cracks of Fuse” when, after the player destroys her Hypnotic Charm, she compliments them before warning them that they “won’t be so lucky” in the future.  

She takes betrayal very seriously and it has been shown to hurt her deeply, as it did with Pandora in “Pandora’s Lunch Box.”  Her reactions to it seem to depend on the relationship the traitor has with her and their reasoning beyond the betrayal.  Mandy genuinely saw Pandora as a friend and hated being used, even if the result would’ve been convenient for her, so she had no issue locking Pandora away.  She threatened to destroy Billy in the GAOBAM/KND crossover special when he stood against her.  Meanwhile, the player in “The Cracks of Fuse” has more of a working relationship with Mandy and betrays her by Dexter’s orders in order to save people.  The closer you are to her and the more deep the betrayal, the worse she’ll retaliate.  If you stick by her side, she shows gratitude if only in passing comments.  This would also align with her deep love for her dog, Saliva, an animal known for its loyalty. 

As for honesty, don’t get me wrong, Mandy isn’t above deceiving others to get what she wants.  At the same time though, she often makes her intentions very clear.  If she hates someone, she hates them openly.  She makes her goals and boundaries known to all.  Furthermore, she’ll respect an agreement if she makes one--such as giving the player a reward at the end of “The Cracks of Fuse” despite her anger toward them.  Her hatred toward Mindy may also partially stem from this, given the latter’s behavior as a stereotypical popular girl/bully with a “fake” personality.    

Other than what I’ve said above, this bullet is pretty much based entirely on my own speculations and investment in a certain trope in a lot of current webcomics, so take with it what you will.  Even as an infant, Mandy has been shown to rarely, if ever, smile with a dark outlook on life. She’s also extremely intelligent for her age.  Fitting her personality and the supernatural themes in GAOBAM, I headcanon that Mandy might be an individual who reincarnated with her memories--likely on a subconscious level--from a terrible, previous life rather than moved on to the afterlife.  It’s probably the most extreme claim I could make for her and you all who’ve been following these posts know that I rarely come up with them without some canon basis, but it’s one that I just can’t easily shake the longer the idea sits in my mind.  She’s cynical of the world because she recognizes it as an awful place with awful people--and never would’ve had an infant’s naivety if she somehow already possessed early knowledge about the harsh realities in life.  As a result, she wants to be in a position of power at all times so she doesn’t become anyone’s victim.  She keeps her distance from others, yet cares about loyalty so much, because at some point in that past-life she would have already faced a cruel betrayal. This would feed into an insecurity/unwillingness to form real attachments, along with feelings of superiority.  Even if she would despise personally having an overly nice, happy-go-lucky nature, she doesn’t actively go after individuals who are themselves that way like Jeff: This fits a respect of genuine kindness/innocence while also recognizing it as a potential danger in a cruel world.  She would be more optimistic as a very young child, but with tempered expectations because of being given a second chance at life. However, her worst feelings would still continue to sink in as she grew and recognized everyday annoyances/evils others her age wouldn’t pay much attention to. Billy would only be able to draw so closely to her due to reaching out to her when they were so little and never giving up on that friendship, forcing her to accept him in her life.  Think of a more ambitious Six from Little Nightmares.  

Outside of the Mojo guide missions, most of Mandy’s own depict her as being an extremely effective Fusion Fighter if seemingly a little detached. There’s a strict approach to the way she directs the player, and she doesn’t let distractions or her own desires get in the way of her immediate work.  Due to the amount of knowledge she has on both Fuse and supernatural artifacts for these missions, one of her main roles in the war is likely research.

Her time spent with Grim already allowed her to learn a lot about the supernatural; however, she has also studied under/with Hex some since arriving at Devil’s Bluff.  At first, he admired her ambition and interest in magic. Once he realized how much of a threat and potential rival she could be though, Hex started being more careful with what he told her, treating her with caution.  Mandy is aware of this, and as such will try gathering information he would keep secret from her through other people. As of now, she’s unable to summon magic herself without the help of others or the use of objects despite the vast amount of knowledge she’s gathered.

The mission “Hands Off” hints that Mandy didn’t join the nano project solely to help with the war effort, as she slips up by referring to her allies as “slaves” when explaining the decrease/lack of nanos would make them weak.  Extending this to her nanos themselves, it’s likely she joined the with the intention of using them as a sort of personal army once the war is over.  Since they would think and act like her, she imagined the only thing she’d have to worry about is some of them possibly sharing her ambitions and trying to usurp her, and that she could easily outsmart the small doubles should the need arise.  Others would align with her goals and know they’d be in good standing if they followed her commands.  However, she didn’t count on just how much their IE Donor’s influence would also affect their creation.  Her plans haven’t really changed, but any Mandy nano with a strong bond to their IE Donor is a lost cause to her.    

[buzzdixonwriter]

TROTS AND BONNIE Review

Trigger Warning: This will review a work that often addresses human sexuality, emotional / physical / sexual abuse, and adolescents’ views on same.  Be advised.

. . . 

When I was growing up in the 1950s and early 1960s, two old comic strips that remained popular were J. R. Williams’ Out Our Way and Gene Ahern’s Our Boarding House, both started in the 1920s and, from their daily panels and Sunday pages, never moving out of that decade.  My favorite cartoons on local kid shows were Fleischer Brothers Betty Boop and Popeye cartoons, many of which took place in urban / suburban settings heavily reflective of 1920s and 1930s America.

So when I first encountered Shary Flenniken’s Trots And Bonnie I instantly recognized the flavor and style of the strips.

The content, on the other hand, came straight out of her underground comix pedigree, with the refreshing point of view of the female gaze instead of the admittedly too often misogynistic male cartoonists of the milieu.

Flenniken is one of the best artists and writers to come from the underground era, displaying a confident early mastery of the form (don’t listen to her protestations she really wasn’t good at the start of her career; she clearly ranked among the finest of the underground comix artists).

But the sweet and innocent look of Trots And Bonnie belies the frank and frequently shocking honesty of Flenniken’s work.  

As cartoonist Emily Flake notes in her introduction, “that’s the terrible power of children, the monstrous innocence that makes them capable of anything, a state of being we fatuously describe as ‘pure.’”

Innocence is not synonymous with purity in the world of Trots And Bonnie because the cast lack the moral and cultural filters we acquire as adults.  They are reporting on reality as they see it, and as with all children (and the elderly, and drunks) there’s nothing to stop them from commenting on the foibles of hypocrisy of humanity, nor is there a single iota of shame to hold back their expression.

And when you add the impact of puberty to that mix, holy &#@%, you have no room left for pretense or propriety.

Hold on to your hats, folks, ‘cuz it’s gonna be one helluva ride.

One helluva ride…and a hilarious one, too.

If modern audiences can get past the admittedly often shocking visuals and situations, they’ll find some of the most brilliant coming-of-age comedy ever penned.

The truth is always an absolute defense, and Trots And Bonnie dishes it out lavishly.  Brava to Shary Flenniken for having the courage (or honesty, of lack of filter; take your pick) to pen it, to the original underground comix and National Lampoon to publish it, and to new York Review Comics to bring almost all of it back (Flenniken herself opted to withhold a few strips that she feels might be construed now as hurtful or insulting).

Flenniken is the daughter of a military family, growing up in a variety of climes and places before her father retired in the Seattle area.

She reached adolescence and young adulthood during the hippie era, and the earliest strips cast a fond eye back on that time.

An original member of the infamous Air Pirates crew, she and fellow underground comix artists gained immediate recognition skewering Disney icons.  Air Pirates Funnies and Paul Kassner’s The Realist generated no small amount of tsuris for the House of Mouse in the late 1960s / early 1970s but The Realist, true to its name, possessed to good sense to adhere to the unofficial so-called “one-time fair use parody” rule while the Air Pirates pressed their luck with Air Pirates Funnies #2, resulting in the Disney legal department descending on them like an anvil dropped from orbit.

Crawling away from the wreckage, Flenniken kept contributing to a number of underground venues, creating the first Trots and Bonnie strip for the 1971 underground comix Merton Of The Movement. 

Trots and Bonnie (soon joined by Pepsi, a beguilingly sweet looking elfin-like child with the heart of Germaine Greer, the reproductive organs of Karen Finley, and the mouth of an interstate trucker) popped up in several single page strips and short stories until NatLamp recruited Flenniken in 1972 to be a regular contributor and (briefly) an editor.

NatLamp proved to be the perfect venue for Flenniken and her characters because the magazine possessed the economic mojo and suicidal “Who gives a &#@%?” attitude to publish Trots And Bonnie while at the same time providing a perfect audience of proto-incels who desperately needed some consciousness raising, especially if said consciousness raising arrived in the form of a kick in the groin.

Trots And Bonnie’s tenure at NatLamp lasted slightly more than two decades, but a big hunk of that era saw the Reagan culture wars raging, not to mention much of the country becoming obsessed with a literal modern day witch hunt in the infamous Satanic panic (an apt subject for Flenniken’s characters, but one she wisely avoided, thus following the old military adage, “Never draw fire on your own position.”).

The already edgy material in both NatLamp in general and Trots And Bonnie in particular threatened to be perceived as too edgy by law enforcement, legislators, and judicial authorities who seemed either unwilling or incapable of distinguishing between photographs and video of actual sexual assaults and rapes committed against real children as opposed to crudely drawn Xerox copied mini-comics made by outsider artists with audiences that might possibly number in the dozens.

Flenniken’s willingness to honestly recall the turbulent emotions of early adolescence resulted in stories and strips where prepubescent kids engage in activities and discussions that would be acutely problematic if done today.  Again, the utter lack of self-consciousness in Flenniken’s characters swerves her work away from the low grade smut ground out by many of her male contemporaries and flung open a window on how adolescent females perceived the world around them.

The stories are wildly transgressive, and like all transgressive art can only be understood in the context of their time and mores.  Flenniken’s art carries a sweetness that leavens out the most horrendous situations (she gets astonishing comedic mileage off a story about a woman raped by a police officer, never once blaming or exploiting the victim but lambasting the culture and mindset that makes such a crime possible).

The fact these stories are told from a vibrant feminist / sex positive point of view makes them relevant to this day, and Flenniken’s ability to draw both truth and humor from dysfunctional families, emotional abuse, and drug use keeps them from being one-note exercises.

Most importantly, Flenniken comes across as strongly pro-child, even while honestly depicting her own characters’ failings and misconceptions.

She always brings a genuine emotional connection with her characters as adolescents, neither glorifying nor patronizing them.

One of the most notorious Trots And Bonnie strips finds Bonnie looking at herself in a mirror, fantasizing she’s famous actresses of the past.*  

At the hands and brush of Norman Rockwell, this theme tries for poignant but lands in schmaltz, looking down on an anxious child studying her reflection in a mirror; in far too many bad novels by sub-par male writers, it’s borderline (and often not-so-borderline) pornography.

At the touch of Flenniken’s deft pen, it’s honest and sweet and shockingly frank but it never depicts Bonnie as a figment of the male imagination but as a character and personality all her own.

Flenniken has not done any new Trots And Bonnie strips since the last ones published in NatLamp in 1993.

To be honest, I think that’s a good thing.

The characters are of their particular time and cultural gestalt, it may not be possible to recapture that lightning in a new bottle, and rather than diminish the old, perhaps it best remains a perfect artefact of its era.

Mark Twain tried repeatedly but could never transport Tom Sawyer and Huck Finn out of antebellum Hannibal, and to use an example more contemporary to Flenniken’s work, the Fabulous Furry Freak Brothers resolutely thwart all efforts to move them out of San Francisco during the Summer of Love.

You can’t go home again, as Thomas Wolfe famously observed, but that only applies if you’ve successfully left home.  At a certain point, if you haven’t moved beyond your old confines, you never will.

Flenniken’s honest frankness could have turned into a big crosshair on her back during the cultural wars, but to paraphrase John Lennon, life happened while she was making comix.

She married twice, divorced once, widowed the second time.  While she never completely withdrew from professional illustration, she no longer sought out the high profile gigs.

Trots And Bonnie from New York Review Comics is the first extensive English language compilation of her strips and stories, a very handsomely produced volume designed by Norman Hathaway.

The strips are meticulously presented, making it possible to enjoy Flenniken’s fine line work and exquisite character depictions in greater detail than every before.  It’s a genuine delight, sure to thrill old time fans of the original strip and quite likely to win a new generation of admirers.

But brace yourselves, noobs, this ain’t your grandma’s Betty Boop…

© Buzz Dixon

 *  It should be noted that for all its apparent revolutionary newness, the counterculture of the 1960s and 1970s, the crucible that forged Flenniken’s point of view, also enthusiastically embraced the past.  W. C. Fields and the Marx Brothers became cultural icons to a new generation, Betty Boop regained her old popularity, old movies were rediscovered and reimagined, African-American spirituals and blues sprang from new voices, obscure books and novels from earlier decades and centuries became the new cultural touchstones.

I’ve posted elsewhere on how the boomer generation enjoyed a unique conflation of new technology and old media to produce a brand new synthesis; there has been nothing like it since even with astonishing advances in technology.  When old media is rediscovered and reinterpreted in this era, it too often tends to be in the form of irony, which mocks that which it cannot understand.

Give those old hippies their due -- they got the &#@%ing point!

[intoafandom]

uhh do you like kevan miller? wasn't he the one who said "all lives matter"? LMAO it doesn't matter if he's a nice guy in the locker room. if he has problematic lines and political positions, that should be enough. please, educate yourself.

I know I always say that I will never post anything political on my blog, but I’m probably gunna have to make a post about millsy/kampfer/now freddy/hockey culture (just so my followers/mutuals know where i stand on this stuff so i never have to talk about it again lol. Cuz trust me its a whooole thing lol)

Ok so back to Miller. I think I’ve said this before (but on a small scale) that I haven’t been watching hockey for toooo long. I only started watching during the playoffs of the 2017-18 season when a game was just randomly on my tv cuz nothing else was on. Now i cant remember if he was actually playing during the like 5? games that I watched, especially since the only player I could remember was “Tuuk Arask” (which is what I seriously thought his name was lol). Either way, they got eliminated and for some reason I follow the team the entire summer and kept up with their preseason and everything. Which then lead into me watching the amazing 2018-19 season and so on to this day. And again I cant remember if miller was actually playing during that year cuz i only got reeeeally into it on like march 2019. But what I do remember, is that I started watching older games on YouTube in like October of 2018. They weren’t playing yet and theres only so many preseason games and i wanted more hockey as a new fan. So i watched ton of games aaaall the time and miller was a BEAST. And again, as a new fan at this time, i knew literally nothing about the game or players numbers or even their NAMES. Like for context, im a SERIOUS patriots fan, and even I cant name everyone on the team plus their numbers like i can now with the bruins. But anyways, not knowing anything, i just watched for the score + the crazy hits and fights that would happen cuz that’s what draws your attention as a new fan you know? I wasn’t watching for the players, I was watching for the HOCKEY aspect. I wanted to learn and experience what it was. So after watching a ton of older games and getting halfway through the 2018-19 season, I started to actually care about the players and figure out who they actually were as well as their numbers. And i got obsessed with figuring out who they all were and I got so proud of myself for finally being able to identify them on the ice without seeing their faces on the bench. So miller was a part of that group. He was on the roster when i made that little mission for myself. I also have to point out that the 2018-19 season his VERY special for me because its the first time I actually watched an entire season of hockey. I got to experience literally everything except the cup. I got every round of the playoffs, the outdoor new years game, pre season in china, learning the actual GAME etc. The roster is very special to me because they were the first hockey team I ever came to love. Kevan Miller was a part of that team. Like Ryan Donato and JFK and Bjorkie and MoJo etc. I LOVE the people on that roster for something more than just hockey. Its hard for me to explain because it’s a very special thing that I’ve never actually talked about or said out loud and im not going to get entirely into it rn cuz I’ll probably make another post about it with all of the other stuff i said. But basically its pretty much impossible for me to hate the people that were on that specific roster. That’s one of the reasons why I will always like Millsy. Among other reasons as well.

I like that he’s tough as nail and that he isn’t scared of anything or anyone. I like how much of a nice guy he is in the locker room. I think it was pasta? in his recent spittin chiclets interview, (it may have actually been cmac. I cant remember) but one of them mentioned how because of Millsy’s rehab and covid, it was super hard to actually SEE him. Like he was never around. And everyone would get so excited to see him whenever he was supposed to come back, only to get super sad when he wasn’t able to make it due to more surgeries etc. The guys know him the best and if they can get past his political opinions and still love him than that HAS to count for something right? I know Kevan Miller as a pretty great player who’s tough as nails and always stands up for his teammates. He never gives up and battles back. He seems like a great dad and his daughter is adorable for an added bonus lol. I’m not getting into my political opinions and whether or not I agree with his. And honestly I don’t really care about his. I follow him on insta, as i do with every single bruin since the 2018-19 season, and ik the type of stuff he posts. He doesn’t really post a lot of political stuff. He only really does on his story and even then its not that often. Ik a lot of liberals will be like “well if he supports this thing then everything else is bad and i cant support him” I’m not like that. One “bad” thing that they like or one “bad” opinion is not a enough for me to think he’s a bad person. Especially when you consider everything else about him.

Please do not tell to “educate myself.” I like Kevan Miller for many reasons. I know his political views and the stuff he stands for. It’s not that I dont care, it’s that i dont think his political views matter enough when I judge his character. Political views aren’t super important to me and i dont really care to take them into consideration when judging if I like a person or not. Miller can support trump if he wants to or whatever. Its not that I like him because he likes trump, i like him cuz he’s not afraid to say he likes trump. He’s HONEST which not many people nowadays can say. I knew what I was getting myself into when i said i like miller since most of bruinsblr hates him. But im not going to let a group of people decide who I should and shouldn’t like or why I shouldn’t like a person. I wanna decide for myself, even if others get upset by my decisions.

I’ll make a different post explaining everything better.