#iggy you deserved better :(

[pizza-feverdream]

I had a dream last night that someone turned my story into a live action disney adaptation, and while the irl versions of my characters were fairly accurate (and trippy to see since they are exclusively Drawn Beings) they made my favorite CHARACTER A BACKGROUND CHARACTER AND RUINED THE PLOT AND EVERYTHING ELSE THE SAME WAY ALL THE OTHER LESS-POPLAR DISNEY REMAKES DID and everyone's ringers were one and the keyboard clicks of their phones were audible

[bookwyrminspiration]

Final Quiz! Do You Know What Color Iggy Was In Each Book? We are almost at the end of Shannon's IG keeper challenge, one day left!

This is 10 multiple choice questions. You're given the color, then you choose which book Iggy was that color. Ngl I don't pay much attention to Iggy and got a 5/10, I hope you do better than me!

[kots-kots]

AU where Jotaro stops N'Doul from commit die and he joins the Crusaders. I think he'd fit better than Hol Horse, as much as I like that concept too. He's honourable and really intelligent, and he went out of his way to spare Iggy so he really isn't as evil as he says he is. Plus, there's a lot of potential for character growth where he goes from serving and fearing Dio for the barest minimum of being nice to him, to being treated as a friend and equal by the Crusaders and realising he deserves better.

I also think he'd get along well with the Crusaders, especially Jotaro. Kakyoin would be extremely salty at first but he'd warm up to him eventually with their similar backgrounds. Joseph constantly makes Daredevil references N'Doul absolutely does not get, but he'd be welcoming. Polnareff probably accepts him easily too. Avdol might be suspicious for a while but he'd be happy to have a friend who shares his native tongue.

A little off-topic but I could see him befriending Wamuu too.

I love him so much. I have a list of headcanons I made for him, he's such a fascinating character.

(Also if you have not seen the OVA version of the fight between Jotaro and N'Doul I really recommend it!)

interesting.. i never would’ve considered n’doul to join the crusaders but I see the potential

I feel like if wamuu were to meet him they’d bond over the utilization of their different strengths and stuff like dat >_<

also!!! I rlly need to watch the ova oh my goodness the animation looks so GOOD

[fictionalcharactersaremypassion]

An Unwelcomed Conversation

Sequel to the drabble where Iggy finds Mickey and Ian sleeping/cuddling

---

When Mickey wakes up, it’s evening. The room is darker than it was when he laid down. 

He blinks his bleary eyes, feels something firm under his cheek and remembers that he’s on top of Ian. His face flushes even though there’s no one there to see it. 

Ian’s still holding onto him too. His grip is looser now that he’s asleep but it’s still keeping him in place. 

It’s so fucking gay but it’s also warm and fucking relaxing so he doesn’t immediately move off of his boyfriend. Mickey closes his eyes, breathes out through his nose and lets himself bask in whatever the hell this is. 

It doesn’t last much longer. Ian stirs; he groans softly, kisses Mickey’s hair, tightening his hold on him. “Hey,” he mutters, his voice deeper from sleep. “What time is it?” 

“Don’t know. It’s dark.” 

“We should get up,” Ian mumbles. 

“Think again, Firecrotch. I’m fucking comfortable.” 

“I’m hungry, Mick.” 

“Boo fucking hoo. Ain’t like there’s anything in this shithole to eat,” Mickey yawns, turning his head to do it in Ian’s chest. 

“I’ll buy pizza,” Ian negotiates. It’s unfortunate timing that Mickey’s stomach growls. 

“Fuckin’ fine,” he knows he’s gone fucking soft which he blames all on Gallagher. Ain’t no other explanation why he wants to keep laying there. Now that he’s a little more awake, his ears catch onto some noise outside of their bedroom.“Fuck. The shitheads are back now. Don’t go buyin’ for them too. They don’t deserve any.” 

“They’re probably hungry too,” Ian yawns. 

“So fucking what? Let ‘em fend for themselves.” 

Ian swats him on the ass. “No.”

Mickey grumbles as he lifts himself off his ginger asshole. Ian stretches his arms on their way out. His brothers and Mandy are out in the living room, they’ve got beers in their hands and probably talking about something fucking stupid. “Ay.” 

He’s immediately suspicious by the smirks sent his way. 

“Hey,” Mandy goes for nonchalance, and brings her bottle up to her lips. 

Ian, of course, is none the wiser. “Hey, guys,” he chirps like a damn bird. “You want pizza?”

“Fuck yes,” Iggy agrees. 

“I want one just for me, Gallagher,” Colin instructs. “I ain’t sharing with these losers.” 

Mandy shoots him a dirty look. “Jesus, Col. Don’t be so fucking rude. Ian’s not fucking rich.” 

“Fuck off. He asked.” 

Mickey doesn't let the discussion of pizza distract him. He knows something’s up. And he's gonna find out what it is. But for now, he shoves his sister’s legs outta the way so he and Ian can sit down on the damn couch. “Move, bitch.” 

“Ugh- fuck off, Mickey!” Mandy scoots to the end, glaring. 

Ian joins him, phone in hand so he can order. He’s got one hand on Mickey’s knee, rubbing circles on the skin. 

It’s quiet, but he knows it won’t last long. He’s proven right when Iggy speaks up, his voice sly and it sends Mickey on alert. “The fuck were you doin’ in there so long, huh?” 

“None of your damn business,” Mickey answers instantly. 

Iggy and Colin share a smirk. 

“You sure about that?” His second oldest brother asks. It’s too casual to be genuine. 

“The fuck is that supposed to mean?” He’s not getting any answers and it’s starting to piss him off. 

“It means Ig caught you doin’ some homo shit,” Colin slouches some more in the chair. He’s got a devilish grin on his face and it makes Mickey want to punch it right off him. 

“What?” Mickey barks. 

“Mickey...” Ian says cautiously, like he’s prepared to grab him to hold him back. 

“You wanna see?” Iggy pulls up the picture on his phone to show it off. Mickey thinks he’s about to see one of their bare asses or some shit. He doesn’t expect it to be from today when he was in Ian’s arms. 

His face burns like it’s on fucking fire. Why the fuck does he even have a picture of them? 

Ian leans forward to get a better look at it. “Can you send that to me?”

“Since fucking when do you have my brother’s number?” Mickey says in disbelief. 

His boyfriend shrugs. “I have Colin and Mandy’s too.”

“Sounds like Gallagher’s about to have a new wallpaper,” Colin comments. 

“Damn right,” Ian says. 

In the midst of all this, Mandy complains to Ian, “You’ve never cuddled with me like that.” 

“I would, but your brother’s a jealous asshole,” Ian says, feigning mournfulness. 

Mickey ignores the fuckin’ idiots, shoving the phone out of Iggy’s hand because the bastard is still holding it up. 

“Ay!” His brother says loudly when it falls to the floor. 

“Go fuck yourself and delete the damn picture.” 

“Too late,” Colin drawls. “He already sent it to me.” 

“And me,” Mandy says. 

“You Motherfucker!” Mickey nearly leaps at Iggy but Ian’s fast and he’s too damn strong for him to escape. 

His brothers are unimpressed and quite frankly, unbothered. Iggy just leans back in his chair, grinning slyly. 

“Didn’t know you liked being held like that, Mick.” 

“I don’t-” Mickey blusters. 

“Cut the shit, assface,” Mandy snorts. “You’re not fooling anybody.”

 He gets ready to raise hell because so fucking what if he liked it? That doesn’t make him some bitch. 

“Is Mick clingy?” Colin asks Ian. Nosy ass. 

“Didn’t you see the way he was laying on him?” Mandy interjects. “He’s definitely clingy. I don’t know how Ian stands it.” 

“I don’t mind,” Ian says. Mickey doesn’t even have to look at him to know that he’s got that sappy look to him. He’s used to it and for the most part, stopped rolling his eyes when he sees it. 

“Course you don’t,” Colin mutters. “You’ve got a hardon for him.” 

“Guess we know who’s taking it up the ass,” Iggy teases. 

“You’re not wrong,” Ian pipes up, and Mickey’s head whirls around so fast like he’s some fucking haunted doll head. He doesn’t know who he’s gonna kill first but somehow, someway, somebody is gonna fucking die. 

“Go to hell, all of ya!”

“Sounds like somebody needs a hug,” Mandy takes advantage of the fact that he can’t move like he wants to, and slaps the back of his head. 

“Ay, yeah. Go hug him, Gallagher,” Iggy calls.

Mickey really shoulda kept Ian and his brothers apart. Nothing good came from all three of them plus Mandy ganging up on him. 

Ian grins, gives him a noisy kiss on the cheek despite Mickey’s scowl. “Do you need a hug, baby?” 

“I’m gonna fucking murder you,” Mickey whispers through grit teeth. 

“That’s his way of saying I love you,” Ian announces. 

“Damn,” Iggy’s gotta be high. Than again, there’s not many times he isn’t. He looks surprised like he believes this shit. “He must really love us.” 

Dumbass. 

“Not as much as Gallagher,” Colin says with a sneer. It’s unlike the kind of look Mickey assumes he would've gotten from his brother after the fag bashing he received from Terry. It’s playful and probably woulda meant more to Mickey if he wasn’t pissed. 

“Of course not,” Ian’s proud of that, of course. 

“You two make me sick,” Mandy sighs. She crosses her legs. “I think we should send that picture to Sandy. She’ll get a kick out of it.” 

“No!” Mickey snaps just as their brothers agree. 

“Who’s Sandy?” Ian asks. 

“Our cousin. She’s a lesbian so she won’t care,” Mandy shrugs. 

“Can you all just shut the fuck up?” Mickey feels his face flushing again and it’s really starting to get fucking annoying. 

“What’s wrong, Mick? Don’t want us to talk about you cuddlin’ anymore?” Colin snickers. 

“What else does Gallagher do for ya?” Iggy says. “Does he give you his jacket when you get cold?” 

“Has he ever swept you off your feet?” Mandy smirks. “Literally?” 

The questions are coming rapidly. Mickey’s torn between anger and embarrassment. Ian doesn’t even try to stop them. He’s enjoying it, the fucker. 

“That’s it,” Mickey shoves Ian’s arms away and stands. “I ain’t listening to anymore of you fuckers. So fucking what if that’s what we were doing? Not like any of you are getting anything so shut the fuck up and leave me the hell alone.” 

His outburst quiet's them. But then Iggy opens his damn mouth again. 

“Ay, Mick. I forgot to ask earlier. You got any smokes I can use?” 

“No I don’t have fucking smokes!” Mickey bellows, turning on his heel and slams his bedroom door shut. 

“....Guess you didn’t cuddle him enough,” Iggy says to Ian. 

[happypot0001]

⚠️Characters belong to @just-a-carrot 🥕⚠️

I wish it wasn’t so, but everyone is probably going to have an obstacle once in their life. Some may be bigger than others, but I believe that you’re a good person. 🫵 There must be a reason that you’re suffering, even if you ARE a good person. I don’t have a say in this, but I can only wish for the best with you and your life. If you don’t believe you’re a good person, then I believe you will be. This is a complete stranger who’s talking to you, but this is also a stranger who has encountered her own problems. You don’t have to take my words to heart, I’m no therapist or anything 😭😭😭 but all the same…I hope life gives you what you deserve 💕💕

I would feel a bit guilty if I didn’t say this, so I’ll just give an honorable mention to @sailingseals ⛵️!! I’ve been really inspired by their art and I never actually looked at it when I was creating this but I do vaguely remember how they shade so….yeah this shading was kinda inspired by them 😭😭😭

Lots of love to anyone who may be reading!! 💕💕

I…CANT BELIEVE I FINISHED THIS IN LESS THAN A DAY!!!! LESS THAN TWENTY FOUR HOURS WOOHOOOOOOO LETS GOOOOOO!!!!! Ekekjedkdk I really enjoyed drawing this!!!! It was always a vague idea stuck in the back of my mind but finally it’s been brought out on my phone!! (Yes I drew on my phone again where the freak is my iPad 😭😭😭) Bro when I was drawing, I had been using that one picture where Iggy was tied up with ribbons and all three of the love interests had like locks on him and stuff and that brought SO MANY MEMORIES FROM OW 😭😭😭😭😭 I loved it sm heheh

About…what….like two or three hours ago???? Maybe more but around that time frame. Anyways, at that time I was doing some work while playing a sad song (Absence by Rio Romeo 🙏🙏) while ALSO crying (for the second time today what 😭😭) and when I cry, I want to draw people crying 😃😃 but like I’ve always adored the thought of like someone kissing someone else’s tears 🥰🥰🥰 idk where I’ve seen that from but…like…idk it just seems like a cute idea 😭😭😭 so I was like “wait why don’t I just draw that it seems like a cute idea” so…yeah HAHA as you can see I gave GIDGET the honor of doing that 😋😋😋 I was thinking of how to do this and I was first going to do just Iggy sitting and crying all sad and just disappointed and THEN do all the extras but I decided that was like a waste of time and so I just decided against that 😭😭😭😭😭 I still like how it turned out anyway, even if I didn’t do that!!!! I mean like obviously I’m not the best at drawing but since I’m my biggest uhhh enemy (it think that’s what people say) ???? I say that it looks better than most of my other works!!! I knew I wanted to do all of the love interests so I was deciding how I should have each of them comforting Iggy, and uhhh…well you see obviously 😭😭😭 if you need help differentiating how I drew each character doing that then: it’s like just Orlam touching up on Iggy trying to make him feel better with cuddles or smth of the like. Gidgets cutely kissing his tears because why not😆😆😆 and Genzou is just crying along with him 😭😭😭😭 idk I thought they fit but whatever it sounds dumb when I say it out loud but I’ve already drawn it 😭😭😭 uhmmmmm….if I were to claim this as any firsts…I’d say it’s like my first time properly drawing Orlam?! And also GIDGET with their normal hair down!!!

JDFDJDJ if any of these hit a deep spot in your heart then I’d really like to know!!! I hope that if you’re sad or not that you have a very blessed life and the universe gives you the treatment that you deserve, which I can only assume is the best treatment!!!! OF COURSE WE JUST NEED A MENTION TO 🥕 WHO IS THE CREATOR OF THESE AMMAAAAAAAZZINGGGG CHARACTERSSSSS!!! THANK YOU FOR CREATING THESE CHARACTERS AND SUCH A LOVING COMMUNITY FOR US!!!! WE ENJOY EVERYTHING YOU MAKE AND WILL ALWAYS BE THRILLED IF YOU WERE TO MAKE ANY MORE!!!!!

Lots of love to anyone who may be reading once again!! 💕💕

[royculkins]

the universal curse of sensitivity — igby slocumb

Part One: Smoke and Mirrors

PART TWO

Pairing: Igby Slocumb x reader

Warnings: Drug use, explicit language, underage nicotine use, underage drinking, neglectful parents, predatory adults, and more that can be found in the movie: Igby Goes Down

Summary: Troublesome kids will always reach to find love and acceptance, even if it means making a mess where it's unintended. They’re just kids, but the older they get, the worse their inner conflicts haunt them. They want to please, but long to be pleased. They’re dramatic and self-sabotaging, they can’t help it⸺its the universal curse of their sensitivity.

Authors Note: Giving Igby the love interest he deserves!!! (one that is age appropriate and doesn’t lay a hand on him!). also! i made this gender neutral but this is my first time writing this way so please let me know if i made any mistakes!!

4.5k words

Igby hated being a fucking drug dealer.

The money was fine, the freedom was liberating and questionable, but the people he met fueled him full of disgust and annoyance. It had seemed that every person he had come in contact with was stupid and unworthy of such carefree lifestyles. A part of him wondered if it was jealousy. How could these people live their lives while he was on the run from his? It was unfair. However, it wasn’t like he could stop⸺he needed this; he needed the place to stay. Russel wasn’t his first pick, but it was the only one he currently had.

Run around, deliver drugs, and get a sometimes vacant spot on a stained couch that held onto an odd odor and sticky substance. It was the deal of a fucking lifetime⸺increasingly better than anytime spent at boarding schools and military academies.

As the sun followed his deliveries closely, it hovered over him⸺almost judgingly. Staring up at the building, the boy could feel a scowl twist upon his face as he squinted against the glare of the burning star in the sky.

You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.

The building stood tall and glamorously, mocking anyone who passed it⸺casting condescending glances at those who couldn’t even afford to stand in the lobby. It was destined to be filled with rich people with reckless habits and internal madness. Just fucking peachy. Sending a fleeting glance to the people entering and exiting the building, the boy worked to smooth his jacket down in hopes to blend in with the proper fucks surrounding him. Rolling his neck as his frustration of the day settled between his shoulder blades⸺he caught sight of you. Your upper body lazily dangling out the window seal.

The sun formed around you like a halo, the glare too harsh to make out your features, but its rays caught onto the smoke from the cigarette hanging from your mouth. Pulling the burning cancer from between your lips, you tilted your head at the boy standing directly under the blazing light from the sky, “Are you Iggy?”

A loud scoff passed his lips as his eyes rolled toward the back of his head. Annoyance seeped through his skin as he threw his hands up⸺a wide, fake grin on his face as his words dripped with mocked enthusiasm, “Yeah, yeah, that’s fucking me!”

From the window, you let an amused grin stretch across your face at the boy's dismay. He couldn’t see your reaction⸺every time he tried to look up at you, the sun would blind him mercilessly. However, his frustration was clear as he kicked a rock and muttered the name to himself with disdain, “Iggy, yeah fuck you, fucking Iggy.”

“Come on up!”

Igby looked back to where your silhouette once was, only to be met with the light reflecting off your now closed window. Gone without a single trace of existence⸺not even smoke lingered, it seemingly disappearing with you. Letting out a huff, the boy pushed past the people on the sidewalk and toward the building, sending the doorman a brief glance as he entered the complex. He tried to stay neutral as he caught sight of every expensive piece of furniture in the lobby as well as the prestigious population that the large building held. However, as he entered the elevator, he became suddenly aware that he’d be trapped in a moving box with the very people he had spent so long running from. A smirk slid onto his face as he made eye contact with a woman in the elevator⸺she looked like his mother⸺only uglier.

The older woman tried to look away, but his hazel eyes bore into the side of her face, his smirk unmoving. Giving the boy a side-eyed glance, the resident of the building shifted uncomfortably and edged closer to the door⸺ready to get off on a floor that wasn’t her own. The action sent a gleeful spark into Igby as he stepped forward as well, he was getting off on his rightful floor, but it was entertaining to see the woman stumble over her next move. As the elevator doors slid open, the boy stepped off and turned to the woman who watched him with wide eyes. Grinning madly, Igby waved his fingers at her, “Don’t worry, I’ll get off with you next time.”

As the doors shut with a horrified woman behind them, the boy laughed wickedly⸺tormenting people would never get old. Licking at his cracked lips, the boy was pulled away from his entertainment at the sound of an apartment door opening behind him. His eyes fell onto you as you leaned your back against the threshold of the door and crossed your arms over your chest. Your eyes scanned his features, analyzing him so closely that he felt annoyance tug at his chest. He hated being observed. He hated being perceived. The feeling it gave him brought a soured expression to his face. Quirking up an eyebrow, you scoff lightly to yourself, “Jesus Christ, you’re just a kid.”

He would have let it go. Truly, if you had been the first, second, even third customer of Russels, then he might’ve been able to let your comment roll off his back. However, you weren’t the first or second, and you sure as hell weren’t the third⸺you were the last fucking delivery of the day, and his thin layer of patience had been ripped from him when he made contact with a woman who knew his perfect fucking brother.

“You’re one to fucking talk,” The boy snapped as he pushed past you into your apartment, letting his shoulder connect harshly with yours. His eyes naturally rolled as he caught sight of your rich people furniture, and your rich people art, and your rich people decor. The air was stiff with precision, and the room looked untouched; as if ghosts were the only ones who paced the apartment. The only indication that you lived there was the glass of water and ashtray that idly sat on the window seal, as well as your jacket that barely hung onto one of the perfectly placed floral couches. He turned to look at you, and with the sun's glare being outside, he could finally take in the features of your face. Huffing out a bitter burst of air, the boy shook his head, “What are you? Fucking fifteen?”

“Seventeen.”

Igby watched as you shut the door, noting to himself that you were the same age, but making no effort to inform you of that fact. Instead, he let his face screw up into a distasteful look. You had a delighted look on your face, one that only rich people could perfect when they felt notorious. It was unnerving, but what you said next only further irked him.

“The last few people Russel sent were junkies in their late thirties trying to be featured in his next ‘phenomenal’ project⸺so excuse my surprise to see someone youthful, and sober, for once.”

You now stood in front of him, eyeing his yellow and red striped scarf before allowing the pads of your fingers to reach out and feel the fabric. He wanted to rip the piece of clothing out of your grasp, but you had beat him to it, lightly placing it back against his chest before turning around and walking toward the window, where you lit another cigarette. Scoffing lightly, the boy trailed closer toward you as you opened the window, sitting on the seal just as you had before when he saw you from the sidewalk.

“You’re telling me that the seventeen year old rich, spoiled junkie didn’t like when fellow junkies entered the posh and prissy castle?” Igby hummed in question, mocking curiosity as his eyebrows raised and sarcasm shone brightly in his hazel eyes. His tone brought a spark to your chest and a jump to one of your eyebrows.

Blowing smoke out the side of your mouth toward the window, you let your knee bounce involuntarily before smirking with a nod, “Uh-huh.”

Sending you back his own sarcastic smirk, the boy began to dig through his bag for his intended reason for meeting you in the first place. Pulling out the crumbled brown paper bag with your name lazily scribbled on it, Igby held it out for you to take. He watched closely as you ripped it open with ease, throwing the tube of cocaine and baggy of heroin to the side as you clung onto the bigger bag of weed. Opening the Ziploc bag, you brought it to your nose and smelled the drug that made the everlasting headache dull, a relieved smile ghosting your features before your eyes locked onto Igby. At the sudden eye contact, the boy looked away, cursing at himself for staring at you for too long. But he couldn’t help it. The way you reacted to the smell reminded him of his time at the academy, when he’d sneak smoke sessions with the other troublesome kids. He remembered the liberating sensation of the high, and your response to just the smell felt like looking in a mirror. They were so obviously two kids with bigger feelings and conflicts than what met the eye⸺too bad; neither would ever be willing to admit it.

Stabbing the nub that was left of your cigarette into the ashtray, you close the window and held the bag of weed up for the boy to look at. Once his eyes shifted from the drugs to your face, he could see a suggestive smile coating your features, “What do you say, Igby, you wanna smoke with me?”

His name falling from your lips made his stomach turn, but not because it sounded perfect or romantic. No, because earlier, you had called him Iggy. Meaning you knew his name the entire fucking time, and you were just being annoying. The thought made his eyebrows crease with frustration, and his lips curl into a scowl. His reaction only further intrigued you; it had been a long time since you received such large reactions to your harmless mischief. Maybe that was why you had asked him to join you. Maybe you missed having someone actually respond like a human being rather than a porcelain statue of perfection. Your suggestive smile leaned toward a teasing gesture as you tilted your head, “What? You don’t smoke?”

“No, I do⸺with friends. Never with my drug dealer, though,” Igby’s voice, you noted, always held onto a relish of sarcasm. You wondered if he liked the taste of it, if the sarcasm tasted bittersweet against his tongue. At his words, you let your eyes fall briefly to your lap, causing the boy to gleam with pride. The very smile that he hated, the one that all rich people perfected when they felt notorious, was now slapped onto his own face, “What’s the matter? Rich girl can’t buy any friends to smoke with?”

“You’re not my drug dealer. You’re just the delivery boy, Russels gone through a few of them.” You couldn’t let him have it; you were both too stubborn to not have the last word. Too stubborn to not have superiority over the other. It was rooted deep in your veins and embedded into your bones. The children of wealthy parents⸺always prepared to kick someone off a pedestal with a smile on their faces. Oh, how the nasty cycle of generational responses continued onto the children, “And I do have friends.”

If what you had said bothered Igby, he didn’t show it. Instead, he brought his finger up to his mouth and tapped on his lips as he scanned the area of your empty apartment. He hummed lightly to himself before his eyes landed back on you, his finger leaving his face to point at you and the rest of the room with a condescending smile, “Really? I don’t see any.”

You smiled⸺he had just insulted you and claimed you had no friends, and you smiled. If he had been anyone else, you would’ve never let him stay in your apartment this long. He would have been just like the other delivery boys that Russel had sent, the ones that never made it past the threshold of the door and never got more than a few sentences out before you’d reach for your drugs and slam the door in their face. But Igby was entertaining to you; his reactions felt theatrical, and his burning annoyance was delightful against your boring and cold apartment life. The bite of his words left you wanting more, only leading to you instigating more from him⸺refusing to let the easy banter die.

“That’s because you haven’t met my best friend, Hugh. He’s the apartments doorman⸺total gossip but does more cocaine than a rockstar. I’m sure if you say pretty please, he’d snort it out of your asshole. You seem into that.”

There was a faint recognition in the boy's eyes as he recalled passing the said doorman on his way into the building. The older man who looked one harsh wind away from disintegrating into thin air. Sure, your words were vulgar and explicit, but Igby still found it funny. Not enough to laugh, but enough to let the right side of his lips lift humorously. You stared at his lips momentarily, a powerful emotion glowing in your chest at the reaction before glancing out the window. Suddenly standing up, you moved around the boy who followed you with his eyes, watching as you began to put your jacket on, “Look, are you coming or not? I’d like to smoke before the sun’s gone.”

He didn’t want to. Truthfully, he found you annoying, even more so now that he knew you did it on purpose. However, he hadn’t smoked in what felt like forever. You’d think living with a drug supplier would lead to an unlimited source, but Russel had landed a hard smack to the back of his head, refusing to give away any for free. Besides, you had already paid⸺it was free⸺how could he possibly say no?

That’s how you both ended up on the roof of your apartment, trying to stay warm against the nip in the air. Igby stood with his body leaning over the ledge, watching the people walk below, his left leg bouncing as he shoved his face further into his scarf. You sat beside him, facing him as you straddled the ledge. One leg grazed the rooftop while the other dangled over the side of the building. If you had begun to swing your legs, you could easily kick the boy in front of you, but if you did, you’d also risk losing your balance and sending yourself plummeting toward the cement in front of your apartment. You tried to work quickly in rolling the joint as your breath became more visible.

Glancing at you briefly, Igby sniffed before speaking, pulling his face away from his scarf so you could hear his words against the wind, “How does someone like you even meet someone like Russel?”

“Someone like me?” Your eyebrows jump in question as your eyes lift to meet his while bringing the paper to your lips to moisten the side. Haphazardly, he watches your tongue touch the paper before looking back at the people on the sidewalks.

“Yeah, I mean, I can almost guarantee you didn’t meet in the millionaire row at the fucking–Kentucky Derby–or whatever you waste your money on.”

You smile to yourself as you continue your work, shaking your head while recalling your first encounter with Russel, “I went to one of those art exposés, or whatever the fuck they are. He was there; he had a featured piece or something. Everyone kept saying how amazing it was⸺it looked like everything else in the damn place. He overheard me shitting on it and told me I was a small-minded imbecile who didn’t have the capacity to understand such large-scale art pieces.”

The boy listened closely to every word you said, your words tangling together to paint the picture of a memory in which he wasn’t a part of. His eyebrows knit together as he looked back at you. He was quick to notice the red tint at the tip of your nose and how your hands shook slightly from the cold. He didn’t understand how this story could possibly be true, but you didn’t look like you were lying. That morning, when Russel had given him the rundown of all of his customers, you had been the one Russel wanted Igby to take the most care of, claiming that you were his most valuable customer and told Igby to tell you that he sent all his love⸺Igby had yet to relay the message and still hadn’t planned on following through with the action. As you continued, it only became more unclear as to why Russel would ever send you ‘all his love.’

“He ended up inviting me to the afterparty, saying that maybe if I spent my time with those in tune with their creative side, then maybe, I could see the truth of the art. He was totally full of shit. It was just a bunch of junkies kissing each other's asses and repeating the same mantra over and over again⸺but the drugs were good, so I stayed. I told Russel that the whole art thing was shit, but he kept inviting me back⸺eventually started dealing me the drugs when I couldn’t attend any more of the parties.”

You finished your story with a nonchalant shrug, never lifting your chin from your chest, even when you could feel him watching you. Squinting slightly, Igby shifted on his feet, “Why would he keep inviting you when you kept shitting on his work?”

“Because I roll the perfect blunt,” You hold up the finished product with a playful and youthful grin on your face. Quirking his eyebrow, the boy smirked as he reached for it. As he took the joint from you, your fingers brushed together⸺both of you acknowledging that your fingertips had gone numb against the cold. Analyzing it briefly, the boy couldn’t deny your statement. It was perfectly rolled, unlike any of the ones he had let Sookie roll when they had smoked together. He could still remember his disdain when the blonde handed him the skinniest joint he had ever seen.

Putting it on the side of his mouth, the boy leaned back to search his pockets for a lighter, however, you had beat him to it. One hand flicked the lighter on while the other rose to shield the flame from the wind. Instinctually, the boy leaned forward, allowing the fire to light the end of the joint.

At the sudden closeness, you were able to see the faded freckles that littered across his nose, as well as the flecks of honey that decorated his irises. He looked young, and he looked beautiful with rosy cold cheeks and a slightly quivering lip. His eyes flicked up from the flame to your face as well, the both of you silently observing and collecting remembrances of the other's features. Even as you lowered your hands, the two of you stayed close in proximity, favoring the warmth that radiated between you.

It wasn’t until the sun peaked through the taller buildings and directly into your eyes that you pulled away from him. Rubbing at your nose and sniffling softly, you watched as Igby took the first hit, “What about you? How does a fellow rich kid meet someone like Russel?”

“What makes you think I’m rich?”

You roll your eyes as you reach forward and let your fingers grip onto his scarf, raising it into his eye line and slightly waving it as your main source of evidence, “It’s a dead giveaway⸺unless you stole it or something.”

“Maybe I did.” He smirks humorously as the smoke pushes through his nose, handing you the blunt as he spoke.

You take a hit of the joint, inhaling deeply before holding onto it, allowing the drug to spread through your body in a warm, tingling sensation. The feeling causes you to roll your head back before blowing the smoke into the sky, your shoulders no longer tense at the release. Letting your head fall back into place, you met Igby’s newly sparkling, intrigued eyes⸺you smile lazily, “I doubt it.”

The joint is once again passed into his hands, “And why’s that?”

“Call it intuition,” You shrug with a small smirk as he takes another hit. Truth was, it was all in the way he wore the scarf. If he had stolen it, he’d showcase it or even treat it a little better. Instead, Igby placed it on his neck out of habit and oftentimes forgot it was even wrapped around his neck. It seemed he only ever remembered it when you had it in between your fingers.

The boy watches you closely before exhaling, flicking at the joint softly before handing it back to you, “I met him through Rachel⸺I lived with her for a while.”

At the confession, your eyebrows pull together, trying to scan through your time spent with Russel and see if you could remember a Rachel. As the girl's face becomes clear in your mind, you begin to wonder what a kid like Igby was doing living with a twenty-something-year-old dancer. At the sight of faint recognition in your eyes, Igby rubbed his cold hands together, “You know her?”

“Yeah, I know her.” You recall the older woman sitting beside you at multiple different afterparties, yelling over the music and the noise about how evolved the expression of dance was and how influential it could be if the world weren’t so narrow-minded⸺like you. After nearly four different occurrences of the same conversation, you found that the only way to shut her up was by handing her a joint or a tightly rolled hundred-dollar bill with white residue on it, “How’s the bitch doing anyway?”

“She overdosed.”

You paused mid-inhale, your eyes locking with Igby’s brown ones as your body burned at the new information. Awkwardly pulling the joint from your lips, you shift on the ledge, your foot now heavily caressing the ground of your rooftop, “Is she..?”

“She’s alive.” For the most part. Igby couldn’t find it in himself to tell you that Rachel was a heartbroken ghost of a woman in a dying body. Not when your neck turned bright red at his words. You nodded somberly, handing him the joint before rubbing your hands against your thighs⸺a teasing smile ghosting over your features, “So you just brought that up to make me look like a bitch, huh?”

“Trust me; I don’t have to make you⸺you’re doing well enough on your own.”

You faked a laugh and gave the boy a wide, still fake, smile, “Alright, Igby.”

He caught sight of the way your face screwed up at his name. Obviously, finding it a little foreign to the tongue, even when you were lightly taunting him. And because of the pattern of people who mocked him or asked him what the fuck was up with his name⸺he decided to make the first move to avoid the dreaded conversation in the long run, “Are you going to ask me about it?”

“About what?” You look away from the setting sun and into Igby’s eyes, as he takes a hit, his eyes already trained on your face.

“My name. Don’t you want to know the story behind it or something?”

Your eyebrows pull themselves together as he blows the smoke out of the corner of his lips, letting the wind carry it out and away from you both. Crossing your arms in an attempt to warm up your hands, you shake your head, “Is it a funny story or something?”

“Oh, yeah. Just another story of how much of a disappointment I am to my family. Hilarious!” A grin had been slapped onto his face as his words dripped with fake enthusiasm. His eyes sparkled against the sun, a glimmer of dread disappearing before it had even properly introduced itself to you. The statement made you pause, finding yourself alerted by the similarities of your coping skills.

It was as if he had held up a mirror to show you how you looked every day. Dropping hints of unsettling family trauma with wide grins and humorous tones. But it was the eyes, it was always the fucking eyes. The window to your soul or whatever the fuck it was. They were always the one indicator of your truest emotion, shining dimly before being forced back underwater. You both had gotten used to pushing it away. Many didn’t see your emotions when it was present⸺no one considered you valuable enough to make eye contact, so your emotions went undetected. Everyone just assumed you took everything as a joke, unaware of how deeply your emotions crashed into your soul and bared a weight on your life.

But you saw it in Igby. You saw the dread that the statement brought before humor replaced it. You saw a little piece of him chip away as he said a mournfully honest thing with a laugh⸺as if he had this very conversation so many times that he was well rehearsed in turning it into a joke.

You saw it. So you decided not to pry for the haunting family stories, and you decided not to poke fun at his name so he wouldn’t need to continue on with act one of his neverending play. Instead, you took a hit of the joint, blew the smoke directly into his chest, and shrugged nonchalantly, “Eh, pass.”

Taking what was left of the joint out of your fingers, the boy's eyes jumped from it to your face. His stare was hard, heavier than it had been the entire afternoon⸺as if he was trying to dissect any microexpression that may have lingered. He also found himself waiting for you to change your mind. Neither came. Your face was smooth, and your decision was final. Maybe it was the effects of the weed finally catching up to him, but the longer he stared, the wider his captivating grin grew. It was only a mere second before a giggle pushed past his lips.

The sound caused your eyebrows to rise; you hadn’t expected the high-pitched noise. And maybe you had begun to feel the effects as well because soon your smile grew wide on your face until your own giggles easily escaped your lips, intermixing effortlessly with Igbys. And as the two of you continued to laugh, the chill of the air became warm with the unfamiliar sense of companionship.

Oh, how things would never be the same.

┗━•❃°•°❀°•°❃•━┛ ┗━•❃°•°❀°•°❃•━┛

PART TWO

[t4tails]

MOSHI MONSTER MUSIC RANKED FROM GARBAGE TO MASTERPIECE

19. ponies

theyre just saying ponies over and over again in an autotuned voice. hyperpop for eight year olds except without the charm

18. shishis lullaby

once again the simplicity is its downfall... there is nothing going on here! somebody get shishi a hankey!!

17. bad to the biscuit

i do NOT like how he yells gimme those gummy buttons :/

16. shoney the amazin blazin raisin

shoney is a menace to moshi society. what a nothingburger of a song

15. go do the hoodoo

i actually think this one slaps but the racism definitely knocks it down significantly. i wish they werent like that because dont look now but i think i heard a twig crack 🕺

14. coco loco

gets a groove going and then RUINS it with a BURP joke. STAY IN YOUR FUCKING LANE

13. moshi twistmas

ill freely admit the vocals in this one kind of suck because of the childrens chorus but i think it has charm the ones lower than it lack... its cute

12. the pooky song

EEEEEEEGGGGGGSHEEEELLLLLSSSS 🏳️‍⚧️

11. the moshi dance

okay this one fucks. we are getting into fucks territory. the bangers. this one gets held back by the weird fucking baby lyrics is all... i understand its the joke but i do not want to hear lady googoos voice like that. but then the chorus hits and yessss bitch

10. i heart moshlings

this ones adorable but im not a fan of the soft singing. and the chorus prioritizes the gimmick over rhymes so it feels a little clunky, but the mv is soooo cute ^_^

9. diggin ya lingo

the hip hop genre does not gel well here but once again the chorus is so groovy i cant help but do a little shimmy. a little shakin

8. sweet tooth stomp

im not as big a fan of this as some others but i can appreciate game. and sweet tooth has game

7. head over heels

the worse of zack binspins iconic singles. but this ones pretty hilarious like why is blingo such an asshole 🤨

6. the iggy chomp

i have no excuse for this being so high up. im literally dancing to this like its 2009. sorry

5. the missy kix dance

i never heard this one as a kid but its suoer catchy. missys adorable too. she should stay away from zack binspin. she deserves better than him

4. do the doodle

LETS FUCKING GO MR SNOODLE 😩 hes so real. this unironically bangs it fucks it goes hard do the doodle mr snoodle live ur truth

3. moptop tweenybop

this is the one that personally gets stuck in my head the most but the ones above it have better artistry so it gets 3rd. i wake up at 2am on the regular with this chorus haunting my mind

2. uptown fifi

the STYLE the GRACE the sleekness...! and it tells a story about a cute little diva dog? what is not to love!!

okay not to be predictable but somehow the "villains songs are always the best" rule continues even in moshi monsters. 10/10 thank you moshi for these fantastic songs

1. dr strangeglove

[veryace-ficrecs]

Prompto Argentum Hurt/Comfort Fic Recs

This list will include all ratings and tags, so read at your own discretion! :)

strike a match (make me disappear) by ty_gospodinov - Rated T

Prompto is just trying to keep it together. But when he's falling behind in school, feeling like he doesn't deserve Noctis, and his electricity gets cut off in his empty apartment? His cheerful, devil-may-care image is breaking. And Ignis can see right through it.

Where Your Kind Are Kept by Asidian - Rated T

At first, Prompto doesn't understand. Then he turns to get a better look where Ardyn's pointing, and he feels the blood in his veins turn to ice. Because there, on the edge of a middle row, one of the pods is sliding open. An MT is stepping out, mechanical steps a jerky imitation of human motion. Behind it, Prompto can see the interior of the pod – a tiny scrap of a closet. Less than a closet: just enough space for one of those things to stand up in. The shock rushes over him so sharp and sudden that he feels dizzy. "You're joking," says Prompto. "Right?"

we'll give ourselves new names by mushydesserts - Rated G

"Just, you... you don't have wings."

Noct gives him a funny look. "Who says I don't?" he laughs.

In the world of Eos, legend has it one's wings are the physical manifestation of one's soul.

Prompto does not have wings; instead he has two large scars on his back.

Tempered Plastic by saltslimes - Rated T

Prompto has a higher pain tolerance than his companions anticipated. So that goes about as well as can be expected.

Running Behind by Asidian - Rated T

There's a tag hanging on his storage pod, instead of the clipboard that documents his progress. On that tag, there's a single word stamped in red: defective. NH-01987's feet stick on the metal of the catwalk. Behind the ever-present metallic mask, his eyes grow huge. He knows what that tag means. It means that, in the morning, while the other MT units are collected for training, a guard will come for him. He'll be restrained and escorted down the metal corridors toward the east wing, into the double-doors that house the correctional facility. But he won't be up for re-programming, not this time. This time, they'll strap him down to a table for the last time ever. They'll pick him apart, to try and learn what caused his failures – and he has so very many of them, no matter how hard he's tried. When they're finished, they'll take what's left to the crematory. That will be the end of him: a pile of ashes and a wisp of smoke.

Terms of Affection by Starofwinter - Rated G

Ignis only uses pet names when something is very very wrong.

Wilting Leaves in the Jar by LadyLilaBlue - Rated G

While camping Prompto comes across a strange flower. It leads to a peculiar situation where Prompto sustains any type of pain sensation Noctis acquires. And we all know instead of telling the guys about what's going on, Prompto is up to his usual shenanigans and decides to keep it to himself and sustain all of Noctis' injuries because, that will make him useful to the group right?

Weak Point by GibbousLunation - Rated T

They told him it was a ‘practical exercise’, to test his loyalty to the Crown under pressure. Cor’s exact wording had been something more along the lines of gruff ‘hey you did the easy part, so. Hate to be the bearer of bad news but everything goes to hell in a handbasket from here on out.’ Prompto was pretty sure somewhere in there was the insinuation that he’d be fine. It was a practice after all.

He Loves Me, He Loves Me Not by MsChievous - Rated T

Prompto gets Hanahaki...

Because of his unrequited love for his parents.

The Way They Were by Asidian - Rated M

Ten years ago, it's the middle of the afternoon. High above Alstor Slough, the sky is a brilliant edge-of-summer blue, so bright it hurts to look at. Clouds make tiny white smears against it, like whipped cream on top of one of Iggy's meticulously constructed cakes. And there, hanging in the vault of the heavens, is the sun. Prompto stares up at it, stunned into silence. It burns his eyes, but he squints and raises a hand above him and peeks through the fingers, not quite able to look away. He stays like that for a long time – so long his eyes water. He tells himself that's all it is.

A helping hand by Sinikka_von_Wolperting - Rated T

Stress can do a lot of things to your body and your mind. Prompto hadn't had it easy the last days.

Over Many Setting Suns by countingpaperstars - Rated G

“I wish… for human legs,” Prompto says, eyes averted as shame burns hotly in his cheeks. It sounds like a silly fantasy, fragile as it’s spoken into the air outside the tender cocoon of his heart.

“Well, I daresay you’re in luck. You’re hardly the first I’ve helped with such a request." Ardyn saunters to the shelves and trails his long fingers over the dried plants. The glass jars full of viscous liquids slosh when he taps them. "I can give you what you want." He pauses, shadows cutting fierce across his wide smile. “For a price.”

Memories of the Past by Asidian - Rated T

Noct wipes his brow with his bare forearm and returns the magic flask that contains his other fire spells to his pocket. He turns, a smile quirking the corner of his lips, words of congratulations for Ignis half-formed on his tongue. They die unspoken at the sight that greets him. Because there, back pressed against the damp stone of the wall, is a small blond boy that looks about six years old. He's absolutely swimming in Prompto's vest and coeurl-print jeans; the top comes down past his knees, so long it looks like a dress on him. Prompto's wrist band has slipped all the way up to the boy's bony elbow, dangling with room to spare, and Prompto's gloves swallow his hands and most of his wrists completely. One of Prompto's guns rests on the ground at the boy's feet. He's got the cylinder of the second open, while his free hand digs frantically in his pocket. But even as Noct watches, he does a quick sweep of the cylinder's contents with his eyes, snaps it closed, and brings the weapon up, two-handed, barrel trained on Noct.

Shiva's Favorite by S4_League - Rated G

Prompto has had the uncontrollable ability to create ice, snow, and frost (etc.) since he was a kid. When it comes to a point where he can no longer guarantee the safety of others, Prompto decides to leave Lucis for good. However, he never gets the chance after a final goodbye to his best friend, the prince, goes awry. Or... my angsty take on what if Prompto had Elsa's powers from frozen.

As Far As You Need to Go by Asidian - Rated T

It takes him a minute, after he's at the bottom. He just kind of sits there, face pressed to the rock, trying to convince himself that he needs to get moving. From up above, he can hear what sounds like combat: the clash of metal on metal, and the bellowing roar of a pissed-off Gladio. He licks his lips – tastes blood. Every breath brings in new pain. Then he remembers: Noct.

[empressofmankind]

Team Triassic I - Once in a blue moon

[Crocodile x Shivs (F!OC) ]

ft. their 12-year-old daughter wanting to go to dino summer camp

Teen and up - 4k / 10 pg

(A/N) - I love Camp Cretaceous and nobody can stop me from doing exactly what I want. Which, apparently, was making a cross-over of that series with @tiredemomama and mine highly specific One Piece content. Because what Benji and Iggy deserve is going on dino summer camp. And no amount of strict parenting from Crocodile and Benn Beckman, respectively, can stop it from happening.

Tag(s): Feel good slice-of-life. Mildly diabetes inducing romantic affection. Fluff with plot hints! Family dynamics. Warning for child-parent argument. Overprotective parents. Smoking. Crack fic. CC x OP cross over.

🏝️🏝️🏝️

The acacia wood double doors with their engraved mosasauri loomed over Benji as she stood before them. Her palms were clammy, her fingers leafing through the papers she clutched to her chest - the info brochure about the remodelled VIP resort, a detailed map of the tropical island, booking information and transport timetables. She'd even made a packing list and prepared a thorough estimate of the costs.

She stared up at the doors and swallowed.

He just had to say ‘yes’.

🏝️🏝️🏝️

“No.”

“DAD!” 

Benji stomped her foot before she thought better of it. The scowl that pulled her father’s lips down around his cigar spelled an imminent extinction event as surely as the K-Pg asteroid. She did her best to adjust her speech to a level, business-like tone. The kind her father was amenable to. “I mean, it’s not a big island?” She unfolded the map of Isla Nublar, smoothed out the creases and slid it across his desk in as casual a manner as she could manage.

The sudden shift in his daughter’s demeanour reminded Crocodile of her mother, and he took his cigar in hand to hide his smile as he leaned forward to study the map. “And where would you be staying?”

“Well, we will help the park rangers, sooo,” Benji started, trying to figure out post-haste how to make it sound as safe as possible.

Crocodile caught her gaze. “When you are not with an adult.”

“Oh! At camp, here.” Benji pointed to a spot marked ‘camp’ on the northern side of the island, some kilometres inland from the northern dock, in an area called ‘Sector B’.

Crocodile tapped the map with the tip of his hook. “What is this red marker right here across from where you are staying?”

“That’s the, um,” Benji clasped her hands behind her back and dodged her father’s gaze. “The compsognathus paddock.”

“Aren’t those carnivores?” Crocodile asked from around his cigar, noting similar red markers around the island. Many of them are in Sector B.

Benji rolled up on her toes and back down. “Well, yes. But!” - and she caught his gaze then - “They are quite small, barely above the knee. My knee! Not yours. I could kick them if they come too close.”

Crocodile took the cigar from his mouth, blowing out smoke as he watched her little nervous shifts. She really wanted to go, and he really did not want her to go. Even less now, with this map full of red markers awfully close to their camp.

“Why would you be close to it?”

“I wouldn’t!” Benji immediately agreed. “They’re in a paddock, like I said. People don’t go in the paddocks. That would defeat the point of them.”

“And I assume these paddocks are well secured?” Crocodile said, tapping the various red markers near the camp with the tip of his hook. There were abbreviations across them: MLS, CNT, TSR. The one nearest camp read CSN - compsognathus, she’d said. He frowned. There was an unmarked one, north of the second lake.

“Absolutely. All dinosaurs have ID-chips with which they are tracked at all times, even the herbivores,” Benji said as she tapped one of the green markers. “The carnivores are all in high security paddocks, so it is not dangerous at all.”

“Weighing several tonnes and being carnivorous is the very definition of dangerous,” Crocodile remarked as he leaned back in his seat, watching her little jaw work.

“There are regular boat schedules,” Benji said, as she gave him the booking information and transport timetable. “You and mom could come visit whenever you like?”

According to the timetable, a boat from the mainland arrived every four hours at the northern dock. Though the booking information suggested reserving spots well in advance of the tourist season you meant to visit in.

“Hm.”

It wasn’t a ‘no’, so Benji took it as a positive sign. Smiling widely, she leaned her whole conversational weight into her argument as she unfolded the flyer for the remodelled VIP resort, a short drive north of camp. “You would stay quite close by, here,” she said as she pointed it out on the map while sliding him the brochure, open on the flattering promotional photos of the brand new top floor luxury apartments.

Crocodile shifted his cigar to the other corner of his mouth as he leaned forward to inspect the location and pictures. The shots featured impressive panorama views of the surrounding rainforest, and snaps of modern beige-is-the-new-white interiors with floor to ceiling honeycomb windows. The text boasted of the exclusive resort having a top of the line gym, beautiful spa and a large rooftop pool.

“It has a helipad now, too,” Benji said. “So you and mom wouldn’t even have to take the boat if you didn’t feel like it.”

“That is convenient,” Crocodile agreed, flipping through the brochure.

“And you could take the new Cretaceous cruise,” she added eagerly, pointing out the easternmost lake and the river snaking down from it towards the sea. “It leads past dozens of dinosaurs - herbivores, of course, but very cool ones!” Realising her father’s notion of the word cruise differed from what this was, she quickly added: “Though it is not actually by ship, but with kayaks. But mom would totally love that!”

For one glorious moment, Benji thought she had him.

“Tempting,” Crocodile said as he took his cigar from his mouth to tap the excess ash off. “But no, you’re not going.”

“But dad!”

“I said no.”

“It isn’t even that expensive, and I’ve saved up,” Benji pleaded as she shoved her notepad with all the tabulated costs under his nose. “I can totally pitch in!”

“Benjamine.” Crocodile put the curve of his hook on her notebook and nudged it back to her. “It’s not about that.”

“I want to go.”

“I know you do, sweetheart,” he said as he watched her chew her bottom lip, staring at all the map instead of him. “But your mother and I think it is too dangerous, they---.”

“You think it’s too dangerous,” Benji said, biting back her frustrated tears. She’d asked her mom first. Something like this would have appealed to her as well. She should have said ‘yes’. Instead, she’d said ‘ask your father’. 

“---They have done nothing such as this before,” Crocodile continued, ignoring her comment. “Perhaps you can go next year. How’s that?”

“I want to go this year,” Benji said, bottom lip trembling despite herself. “I’d be… I’d…”

Seeing her small face crumble and tone falter nearly deflated his resolve. He pushed his chair back and beckoned her, and the little girl rushed into the hug. Benji didn’t want to go next year, she wanted to go this year. She’d be one of the first young rangers! She’d be famous for something! Like her parents.

“You can go next year,” Crocodile said as he stroked her long hair, holding the girl close. 

She glanced up at him and her resigned look dug into him. “You promise?”

“I promise,” he said and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

When the door to his office suddenly banged open, Crocodile shielded the girl on instinct alone.

“I am staying with Miguela in Venice in two weeks!” Robin fumed as she stalked straight towards them, boots clacking on the parquetry like a particularly angry woodpecker. Benji felt her father tense - always a bad sign. She glanced at her big sister from across the socket of his hook. Robin was so angry she was actually turning pink.

“Should have thought of that before you pulled that stunt,” Crocodile said. “You can visit your girlfriend some other time.”

“She’s not my! Hng.” Robin balled her hands into fists. All six of them. “It’s during the Venice Carnival! I am not going to the stupid dino dweeb island.”

“Dino dweeb island..?” Benji repeated softly.

Crocodile heard it though and he could now see the cogwheels turn behind her green eyes. “She’s going there as a camp counsellor,” he said as he preemptively raised his hand when Benji opened her mouth. “To work, not to have fun.”

“I am so not going!” Robin said, her voice pitching.

“I could work!” Benji said. “And if she’s going, I’ll be totally safe!”

“I will feed you to the nearest bitchy little sister eating dinosaur I see,” Robin threatened.

“Robin,” Crocodile warned.

“You can’t!” Benji grinned. “All the carni’s are in paddocks!”

“I’ll wrap you in leaves and find one of those big dumb ones!”

“Quiet, both of you!” Crocodile said, but neither of the girls even so much as looked at him.

“They’re not dumb! You’re dumb!” Benji called back, straight past him. “You couldn’t even find the right leaves if you tried.”

“Maybe I’ll find the wrong leaves and poison them,” Robin bit back.

“No! You can’t do that!” Benji exclaimed as she jumped up. “You’re---!”

“QUIET.”

The girls froze at his raised voice and finally held their tongues.

“Robin, pack whatever bags you think you need. You are leaving this Thursday,” Crocodile said in the sudden and oppressive silence. “Benji, you’re staying here and that is final.”

“Why can Robin go?” Benji demanded. “Why isn’t it dangerous for her?”

“She’s older and...”

Benji burst into tears then. “She always gets things first!”

Crocodile rose, moved towards her, but she stepped back as she glared up at him.

“Its not fair!” Benji shouted and stormed out of his office.

“Benji--!” he started, but she was already gone.

Robin shot him a look like a knife right before she pulled the door closed behind her. “I hope she hates you forever.”

Crocodile stared at the door. Then sat down heavily and rubbed his face, tapping his hook across his desk until it hit his box of cigars. Reaching for it, he flicked out a cigar and lit it. He closed his eyes and let the smoke fill his mouth and his thoughts. 

That could have gone better.

🏝️🏝️🏝️

Shivs watched the morning sun sparkle on the lagoon waters as she leaned back in her patio chair and considered the offer.

“I detect some reservations?” the East Asian woman seated across from her remarked. Her Spanish accent was smooth, her tone persuasive. Shivs’ gaze followed the shift of her long, light hair across her perfectly tanned shoulders, and lingered on the way her airy white tunic hugged her figure.

“I can assure you, it is the type of venture you would enjoy.”

The slam of heavy doors within the penthouse snatched Shivs’ attention just in time to see a furious Robin stalk through the living room, Benji in her wake and gaining.

“I hate you all!” Benji shouted, tears in her eyes as she stormed past them.

Shivs raised an eyebrow at Robin but was met by three middle fingers.

“You two have children?”

Shivs didn’t fail to notice the undercurrent of mockery in the woman’s tone. 

“Do you?”

A pleasant smile appeared on her face, setting a sparkle in her eyes that made Shivs wary. “I have velociraptors.”

Shivs pursed her lips. “Lucky you.”

Robin had been contrary from the day they had found her and was a troublesome teenager on the best of days. However, Benji’s outburst concerned her. She’d said ‘all of you’, not just ‘you’. Which implied she was angry with her father, too. And that happened less than once in a blue moon.

“We will continue this conversation later,” Shivs said as she rose.

“I understand,” the woman said, though Shivs noted her self-satisfied smile.

“Anthony will see you out.”

Appearing on cue as ever, Anthony strode towards the women, carrying their visitor’s stylish coat over his arm. “Ma’am,” he said as he handed it to her.

“Thank you, Mr Daz.”

“This way, ma’am,” Shivs heard him say as she made her way in the direction the girls had come from. The direction of her husband’s office.

🏝️🏝️🏝️

“It’s so unfair!” Benji yelled as she slammed the door to her bedroom, the air displacement sending a rustle through the Jurassic World posters covering most of the walls. Her bed had covers depicting a palaeontology dig from above, and an impressive collection of dinosaur plushies sat all along its length against the wall. A small flatscreen TV stood across from it, its stand buried in documentary DVDs. Beside it, a large doggy hatch and a red water bowl with a bone on it.

Benji dropped herself on her bed and stared at the glow-in-the-dark stars stuck to her ceiling. “She totally wouldn’t be able to tell a Carnotaurus from a Ceratosaurus,” she grumped as the hatch creaked. “I can.”

A nudge against her upper arm.

Benji turned onto her side and reached for the baby Sinoceratops’ shield to draw him towards her. “I hope she falls in every pile of dung she comes across, Stumpy,” she said as she pressed her face against its teal and orange scales.The baby animal warbled softly as it rubbed its stump nasal horn against her side.

“Robin always gets to do things first because,” she said, then mimed a painfully accurate impression of her father’s accent: “she is older”.

“Not because she listens better! Or do her chores!” she said as she sat up. “She never does!”

“It’s so unfair.” Benji wrapped her arms around her knees. “I always do, but I never get things first.”

Stumpy nipped her shin with his beak.

“Ouch, what?” Benji said from above her arms, leaning away from him.

Stumpy flopped down onto the carpet with an offended yip, watching her.

“Oh! I am sorry,” she said as she quickly moved to rub his stump horn. “I got you first. That is totally true.”

Stumpy warbled and licked her cheek, making her chuckle.

🏝️🏝️🏝️

“No, I am busy!” Crocodile called at the knock on his office doors.They opened anyway, revealing the wily shape of his wife.

“Is there any particular reason our daughter just stormed past me, shouting she hates us?” Shivs said as she approached him. Gauging by the impressive cloud hanging in the office, she’d been right about their fight. Stress made him smoke faster.

“She wants to join the first draft of a youth ranger program,” Crocodile said as he motioned at the papers Benji had abandoned on his desk.

Shivs raised an eyebrow.

He turned and pushed the map towards her with two fingers. “On Isla Nublar.”

“And you said ‘no’.”

He took the cigar out of his mouth and pointed at her. “I can’t just let her go play baby ranger on a dinosaur-infested island?”

Shivs came around his desk and leaned against the edge. “One that has upward of 20.000 visitors a day.”

Crocodile leaned back in his seat, taking a draw from his cigar. “The camp is in the island's north, away from the main park.”

She glanced at the map, noted the spot marked ‘camp’. “Less the trouble, I would think?”

He tapped the red marks on the map with the tip of his hook. “It’s practically surrounded by carnivore paddocks. Who knows why?”

Shivs nudged her knee against his. “Well, if they are in paddocks?”

“No. I don’t like it,” he said as she pushed herself off the desk. “They’ve done nothing like this before. They’re kids.”

“As are a good amount of those 20.000 visitors,” Shivs said as she walked around him, putting her hands on his broad shoulders. “If it gets dangerous, we gp and get her.”

“Hrm.”

“She’s becoming a big girl.” Shivs slid her hands under his jacket and rubbed his shoulders, kneading the tight muscles. “Wanting to do her own big girl things.”

Crocodile leaned into her touch, glancing sideways at her. “I do not understand why she is so intent on being the first.”

“Isn’t it obvious?”

A pause as he exhaled the smoke through his nose to not blow it in her face. “Enlighten me.”

“She wants to be known for something, too.” Shivs smiled at his askance look and stroked his cheek. “Like you.”

“It doesn’t matter.” He turned his face away from her hand, annoyed. “This year’s season is a closed draft and its three spots have already been allotted.” Shivs caught the undercurrent of disappointment in his grumble. “It isn’t projected to open to the public until at the earliest next year.”

“Well, that sure is inconvenient,” Shivs said as she kneaded his shoulders until he relaxed. “Who runs it?”

“InGen,” Crocodile said, fingertips idly tracing the back or her hand as it snuck to his collarbone. “Though now a subsidiary of Masrani Global Corporation.”

“Don’t you own significant stock in that company?” Shivs said as she toyed with the gold chain around his neck, warm from resting against his skin all day.

He took her hand and rubbed her knuckles with his thumb. “We do.”

“I thought so,” she said as she leaned against him, wrapping her arms around him. “I am sure you can come to an agreement with Mr Masrani so she can go.”

“No, I don’t want her to go.” Crocodile shook his head, but his grip on her hand tightened. “She’s my little girl.”

“And she’ll always be,” she mused against his cheek. “Let her go,” she added as she pressed kisses against the hard set of his jaw. “She’ll have fun.”

He glanced at her, and she smiled mischievously. “We could go too?” Shivs slid her hands into his dress shirt, her cheek resting against his. “Have a brief holiday, just the two of us,” she added as she let her fingers map the familiar shapes of his pecs. “Take your mind off of everything.”

“That does sound good,” he rumbled, and she could feel the noise under her palms as much as she heard it with her ears.

She chuckled, and they shared a kiss as she gave his right pec a little squeeze.

“It will be.” 

🏝️🏝️🏝️

Crocodile glanced up the stairs in between two bites of his dinner.

“I don't think she's coming down, Habibi,” Shivs said as she rolled up her wrap, pushing the falafel and grilled vegetables spilling out back into it. Beside the table, Stumpy was smacking happily as it ate its bowl of palaeobotanical salad. Normally, Benji would make it, but Crocodile had cut and diced it, this time, unable to ignore the animal's sad yips as it sat by its empty bowl.

Putting his utensils down, Crocodile dabbed his mouth with a napkin before rising. “I will go to her, then.”

Shivs pursed her lips as he picked up the envelope he'd put on Benji's plate when they'd sat down for supper.

Crocodile strode up the stairs two steps at a time and made his way down the corridor that led to the girls their rooms. “Benjamine? I want to talk to you,” he said as he pushed down the door handle to her bedroom. The door didn't budge. She'd locked it.

“Benjamine?”

Nothing but deafening silence. He knew she could hear him because the door had an oversized dog hatch for Stumpy. She was in her room. He could tell from the way heard her move about through to it.

“Benji, baby?” Shivs called as she came down the corridor to stand beside him. “Come on out.”

“I am not hungry,” Benji said from beyond the door, her tone curt and muffled.

“She's still angry,” Crocodile muttered.

‘Told you so,’ Shivs mouthed in Alabastan.

“There's no need to be angry, sweetheart,” Crocodile said, holding up the envelope in an apologetic gesture despite the closed door.

Shivs smiled at the soft but curt noise she caught from behind the door. A little scoff.

‘I have an idea,’ Shivs said softly, beckoning him as she turned away. With a last glance at the closed door, he followed her down the stairs and back into the kitchen.

At the table, Stumpy was chomping down on the last of his salad. Glancing up expectantly when he saw them.

“You want more, little cutie?” Shivs said as she went to the cupboards and retrieved a jar. She cracked it open and grabbed her spoon from the table, scoping up a lump.

“Peanut butter has too much sugar,” Crocodile scolded when he saw her hold out the brown lump. Stumpy did, too, and turned on its stubby legs faster than you'd think possible for such a chunky creature. He galloped to Shivs for a mouthful of the creamy, delicious goo.

“That's why Habibi loves it, don't you,” Shivs cooed as she gave the animal another big spoonful. “Come on, you little lump, this way,” she added as she beckoned it with a third spoon full, luring it up the stairs and towards Benji's room.

“It's going to be sick again,” Crocodile snapped in Alabastan as he snatched a fourth spoon full from her. Stumpy immediately turned to him instead, jumping up to reach it.

“No. Down,” he said firmly as he caught it by the frill and set it back down, drawing an angry nip at his hand for his trouble. “Down,” he repeated, holding its frill steady until it stopped struggling. When it was quiet for a minute, he threw Shivs a look before giving the animal the fourth spoonful. It stepped on his foot as it did so.

“What's the plan, Habibti,” Crocodile muttered.

‘Watch and learn, Wani,’ Shivs mouthed as she took the envelope and used one of her elastic bracelets to tie it to dangle from the hole in Stumpy's frill like a paper earring. She then took the spoon from Crocodile, scooped up another lump of peanut butter and lured Stumpy towards the hatch.

Stumpy happily followed and gobbled up more of the peanut butter.

“In you go,” Shivs whispered, and gave it a shove against its rump to make it walk through the doggy hatch and into Benji's room. With a sharp yip, Stumpy resisted, putting its stubby front legs wide and making them catch against the door frame, stopping her from pushing it in.

“A hand and hook, please?” Shivs complained as she leaned her entire weight against the animal to shove it through.

“We'll hurt its legs!” Crocodile said on a lowered tone as he crouched and tried to push the animal inside, but then noticed the way it had lodged itself. And was staring at the peanut butter jar he was holding. “It wants more of this junk. You two spoil it too mu--.”

Shivs snatched the jar from him, swung her arm like a bowling ball toss and slid the jar across the wood straight towards the doggy door. And Stumpy galloped straight after, skidding and sliding as it tried to catch up to it. The jar zipped past the flap, pursued by the scrambling dinosaur.

Followed by a thud, a thump, and a yelp.

“Stumpy!”

Benji.

Crocodile listened, holding his breath without noticing, trying to hear the tear of paper, of an envelope being opened. Hoping she wouldn't simply crumple it up and toss it in her bin. He flinched when the door suddenly banged open, nearly falling backwards off his haunches and onto his ass. The next moment Benji had flung herself around his neck, the boat ticket clenched in her fist.

She was crying, but not of anger this time. “You're the best dad ever,” Benji sobbed, as she hugged him tight enough with her scrawny little arms to hamper his breathing.

Crocodile wrapped his arms around her, holding his daughter close. “I would bring down the moon to shine only for you, if you wanted me to.”

Shivs smiled, happy they were no longer at odds with each other. It wasn't right. She wanted them to be happy.

After a long moment, Benji pulled back but didn't quite let go of him. “But what about Stumpy?”

Crocodile tucked a bang behind her ear with his hook. “We'll look after him exactly the way you'll tell us to,” he said, then added with a huff: “your mother has already been feeding it peanut butter.”

Benji glanced at Shivs, who shrugged with the peanut butter covered spoon in hand.

“Stumpy loves peanut butter,” Benji grinned.

“He sure does,” Crocodile said, and his tone made them laugh.

🏝️🏝️🏝️

PART II

[hypersomniagame]

HYPERSOMNIA JULY DEV LOG : “LIKE MOTHER LIKE SON”

Yeah baby, none of that "If you're new here" stuff anymore! This is dev log #6! If you're new here read anyways, because if you're reading this you probably know what HYPERSOMNIA is. If not though, then welcome! Let me show you what I've been working on this month!

BUT BEFORE THAT!

If you didn't know, the MOTHER DIRECT is TOMORROW! (Which is why I'm writing this on Friday instead of Saturday)

HYPERSOMNIA will be there! We released a trailer teaser that you can watch right now, and the full trailer will be a part of the direct premiering at 6PM ET!

If you are a content creator, I ask as an indie developer to please talk about the indies and don't just skip over them. I'm not asking this because I want you to talk about my game, but just please talk about the indies because they deserve your attention. Just because you're not familiar with these games doesn't mean they're not worth looking into. If theres an indie game in this direct or in general that catches your attention please talk about it, because it's incredibly valuable to people trying to find an audience.

TALK ABOUT INDIES!

Now, back to your regularly scheduled indie games:

So, what have you been up to Ferris? I'll show ya!

First off, I've been working on designing enemies for the demo! Now I've realized over the last month that I am really really weak at designing common enemies. Trying to avoid RPG tropes and weak/overused ideas and jokes is tough because it means I can't really bullshit like 50 enemies and call it a day, each enemy takes a long time and needs a strong idea, sometimes it'll take me multiple days to come up with good ideas!

I came up with these two recently, and I think they're good examples of my thought process for designing enemies.

HYPERSOMNIA's enemies revolve around a paranormal theme. It's an aspect of the first MOTHER that I missed in MOTHER 2 and 3, which inspired HYPERSOMNIA to lean into it so much.

I try to also keep some sense of comedy in my designs, HYPERSOMNIA has paranormal aspects and it has serious moments, but I try not to mix the two with common enemies because I just don't think it'd make a very interesting enemy roster. Could you imagine an EarthBound inspired game with enemies like actual demons from hell or serial killers? It's something I would've written in 7th grade, like the most basic bait-and-switch you could ever see from any media.

I also put together a flowchart while talking with my partner about enemy designs, they weren't exactly on the same page as me while thinking of ideas so I made this to illustrate my thought process for an idea.

It really helps me narrow ideas that I think would work for the game. It isn't exact, so don't look at it like some sort of design bible, but it's more a general guideline.

I also got around to spriting that cow enemy. My friend suggested the name Moo-F-O which I liked better than the names I was thinking of.

I'll probably get around to spriting that TV enemy after I finish writing.

As the next "Thing I Did This Month", you may have noticed that Katz's coat is a different color!

I made this change while redoing her sprites. I was dissatisfied with how her black coat blends into the game's brown outlines so I decided on giving her a brown coat instead. It also helps her stand out a bit against Iggy, who also has a black coat.

I've also recently been working on some concept art, I've talked before about how I don't like Ross' special attack sprite, so I've been trying to come up with a better pose

I tried hard to make that pose he has in the original work because I think it looks cool but I just found that the pose on the right was easier for me to draw.

I've also been thinking of giving Debra a new starter weapon, initially she had a pan but I figured I should find something else for her, I don't like how similar it is to Ana and Paula from MOTHER. I'm still on the fence about it, so if I don't write about her having a new weapon next month then I'm still thinking about it.

And other then that, that's all I've really done this month! It's not much but I feel its more interesting then the last few months. I've had a lot going on in my life, and early in august I'll be moving out. Hopefully I'll be able to settle quick, because for August I'll probably mostly be taking a break.

I usually do take a break after a trailer comes out, so you'll definitely hear from me next month but we'll see if I have things to talk about. Until next time! And don't forget to watch the MOTHER DIRECT, live at 6pm ET!

If this is your first log you’re reading, or even your first time seeing ANYTHING relating to HYPERSOMNIA, I got a whole bunch of links for you to check out if you wanna know more about me and my stupid little game.

TWITTER

YOUTUBE

STEAM

UNIQUE INDIE RPG’S [SHOW US YOUR GAME!]

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[just-a-carrot]

BEAUTIFUL PERSON AWARD! ✨

Once you are given this award you're supposed to paste it in the asks of 8 people who deserve it. If you break the chain nothing happens, but it's sweet to know someone thinks you're beautiful inside and out <33

You don't have to do anything about it, just a reminder that you are a better person!

Hehehe

Although... Since we have already received this kind of message, what would Cast OW do if they received such a message?

There are different ones like with good wishes or “IF YOU DO NOT SEND THIS TO YOUR 10 FRIENDS, THEN YOU WILL BE BAD/YOU WILL DIE”.

Although it seems to me that if Iggy received a good message, he would send it to his friends, and if he received a bad message, he would start to panic, because he is afraid that this will happen 🤔

LMAO THANK YOU

i haven't seen these types of chain mails in forever... i feel like i used to give/send a ton of them back in email days. usually they would be accompanied by flashing animated gifs of hugging bears and hearts LOL

hmmm...

Iggy: Would not want to believe them but wouldn't be able to overcome the slight fear that they might come true so would probably send them on

Genzou: Would completely ignore them

Orlam: Would completely ignore them

Gidget: Wouldn't necessarily believe them but would think they're fun so would pass them on

Bucks: Would definitely believe them and definitely pass them on

[paracosmicparadox]

So I finished FFXV ages ago, but I've been thinking about it lately bc you know, I elaborated the chocobros' story far further than it was meant to go and got way more attached to them than I should have. So here're some things that the game did really well and some of the things it didn't. (you don't have to agree w anything here; I'm not trying to corrupt y'all w my opinions; I just feel like talking)

Let's start with the bad to get it out of the way:

CINDY. I swear to everything holy her character had the potential to be So Cool if she hadn't been so overtly over-sexualized. Like, I'm a woman-liker too and I get it, lady mechanics are hot af, but you know what else is attractive? Safety in the workplace. Cindy's outfit was not something any mechanic would be caught dead wearing. Yeah, it was designed to be sexy, but do you know how many burns she would've accumulated from the hot oil and metal she works with? There's a reason mechanics typically wear clothing zipped up when they're actually working on something. If anything, Cindy's character design just made me uncomfortable. Her character itself? Great. No qualms there. Her design? Please acquire more than two square feet of fabric I'm begging you. I just feel like Cindy deserved to be so much more than fan service.

Luna's brief time on-screen. Yet another potentially incredible and deep female protagonist who got short change from this game. People joke a lot that Luna wasn't at all an important character because the game never really treated her like one. She was MEANT to be important, clearly, but it felt like she existed just for her tearjerking death scene? Like there was SO MUCH overlooked potential to bring her into the storyline as more than Tragic Love Interest In White, and yet?? Idk it frustrated me.

The emotional aspect of the game felt rushed. There were a lot of emotional scenes covered throughout the plotline ranging from King Regis's death to the deal with Prompto at Zegnautus Keep. I feel like the game TRIED to cover them realistically and show the characters' grief, but it didn't quite get there. It was just sort of an "Oh, how sad. I'm so upset and angry. Hm, what's that? My friends believe in me without truly understanding and I can kill someone to ease my pain? Oh okay I'm better now." I get that realistic healing cycles are kinda hard to portray within a set timeframe, but having some lingering effects of the blatant trauma inflicted would've been nice. You don't recover from shit like that in a week's time.

Character personalities tended to be one-sided. Noctis was edgy, Prompto was happy-go-lucky, Gladio was tough-guy, and Ignis was... nevermind, Iggy was great--- HE had some on-screen depth. Personally, I've developed these characters myself far more than what the game gave us, but I wish we'd gotten more canon depth beyond their surface-level traits. I love them with my whole heart and they deserve genuine complexity.

Now the things I actually really enjoyed:

The graphics were on-point. The amount of detail put into character design and into monsters was insane. You could zoom in and see individual textures on skin and hair and feathers, bringing a level of realism to the game that I personally enjoyed.

All of the Latin and Norse mythological references!! As a Latin nerd, I found little gems everywhere in this game. Esp in the names--- (Noctis Lucis Caelum = Of-the-night Sky-of-light (the genitives in there make the literal translation kinda a mouthful ik) Gladiolus Amicitia = Sword-flower Friendship (the gladiolus is an actual flower that gets its name from the Latin word gladius, meaning sword, for its sword-like shape) Ignis Scientia = Fire Knowledge; Prompto Argentum = Ready Silver (the word prompto is actually in the dative (possibly ablative), making the literal translation nonsense, but if they'd made his name Promptus, it would've sounded awkward, so I can see why they picked the dative/ablative form of the adjective for stylistic reasons and I put the rough translation instead)) WOW THAT WAS A LOT OF PARENTHETICAL INFO WHOOPS

Ardyn's character. I'm not saying this bc I'm one of the fans who fawn over him---Ardyn is DEFINITELY NOT MY PREFERRED FLAVOR OF MAN, but character-wise, he made an excellent antagonist. He was witty, slick, and classy in an I'm-gonna-outstep-you-like-it's-hopscotch sorta way. He was a poetic villain done well, which made him an antagonist you could both sympathize for and absolutely detest given the situation. He was both the master manipulator and the pawn one space away from the edge of the board. He can sway a crowd, but you know deep in your gut just by the cunning greed in his eyes that You Cannot Trust The Man. He was definitely Not a good person (tragic backstory isn't an excuse), but he was a good villain.

I loved the bond between the chocobros?? This is probably bc I'm a sucker for the found family trope, but their interactions were so amazing to me?? Like, not even the cutscene stuff. Just their little sidebar conversations during fights or while you're walking around or driving the Regalia. They're Roadtrip Buddies™ and I think that's excellent.

THE FOOD. By god, the food in this game looked absolutely scrumptious and I would like to partake. The Daggerquill Soup? Give it to me I'll pay you. The Creamy Crustacean Omelet? Stop it right now I'll eat that so fast it'll be a criminal offense. Like I know I touched on the graphics earlier, but broski I was not kidding. I guess I know why the game took so long to make it to the market bc the detail that went into these recipes is absolutely mouthwatering.

[jjba-smash-or-pass]

Who are your top 5 favorite JoJo characters and why? Who are your least favorite characters?

Alright I'm gonna go into more detail because I love talking about characters <3

1: Foo Fighters. Like I've said before, Kakyoin and them have some similar motifs, namely the motifs of feeling othered from the world and not really having friends until they become a part of the main Jojo group of their respective parts. As a (probably) autistic person and a (definitely) ADHD person, I heavily relate to this message, as I never really feel like I belong unless I'm with my tight-knit friend group. What I like better about FF, though, is that this "otherness" is a key aspect of their personality and characterization, instead of being shoehorned in right before their screen time ends. That, and their overall personality is just more fun. Also nonbinary representation is always cool in my book.

2: Josuke Higashikata. He's the manifestation of my favorite things about Jojo all put into one character. He's got a snazzy outfit. He can switch from silly to serious at a moment's notice. But most importantly, he has a heart of gold and won't stop fighting for peace. The fact that he's a former fictional crush of mine definitely kicks him up a few places as well.

3: Yoshikage Kira. I know I said Josuke includes all of my favorite things about Jojo, but Kira is a manifestation of all the minor things I love about Jojo. He "looks normal" in canon but wears a Bright Purple Outfit. He has really unique dialogue. He's insanely smart. And, of course, he's a needlessly cruel villain. Araki seems to love creating villains that like to kick puppies for fun, and I love seeing them in his work. The funniest part is that Kira would actually just be a normal guy, if not for his urge to kill women. There's a lot of other things about his character I like, but none major enough to mention here.

4: Jolyne Cujoh. I really appreciated seeing her character growth throughout the story of Stone Ocean! Jolyne, like Josuke, has a lot of that fighting spirit and willpower, but instead of fighting for the sake of others (although she definitely does that don't get me wrong), her story is about fighting for the sake of herself. She's been through a lot. She grew up without a father figure. And now, she's stuck in prison for a crime she didn't commit. Her story is about fighting for her own future, fighting to make amends with her father, fighting to free herself and her soul. And in the end, it was her decisions that ended up defeating Pucci.

5: Danny. The bestest boy. Little ouppy. He deserved better.

okay but really my number 5 pick is Iggy. He's a dog who gives absolutely zero shits about humans unless they're giving him coffee gum. But underneath that shittiness is a tenacity that's almost human-like. He reminds me of my own dog, in a way. She's a grumpy old lady who doesn't listen to a word you say unless there's food involved, and she refuses to die. Seriously, she's gotten her little paws on SO much chocolate during her lifespan, and she's had to take a medicine that was supposed to give her leukemia years ago.

And for the sake of not making this any longer than it needs to be, I'll just list my least favorite character from the main cast and then overall.

My least favorite Jojo character from the main cast is Giorno. I feel like there's a lot of missed potential with his character. This is a 15-year-old boy who has both Joestar and Brando blood. There was so much Araki could have done with Giorno that he didn't, and instead created a character with very little personality who was supposed to be the driving force of his part. I think he's part of the reason Golden Wind is one of the most forgettable parts to me.

My least favorite Jojo character overall is Forever the orangutan. His Stand fight could have been really interesting but instead we got a child's bare ass on screen because Forever was a creep. I actually watched the Jojo OVA from the 2000's, and they cut Anne's character out entirely but keep the Strength fight. Because Anne wasn't there they altered how some of the events went down and honestly? It was super cool. I liked it a lot more. And do keep in mind that I don't think Araki was trying to write this as a sexy thing. I do think he was trying to incorporate shock factor though so it's still not very redeemable.

[starry-blue-echoes]

I read about gator Joot and immediately thought about the dinosaur - eating gators and Crocs.

Like Jotaro is still a teenager in part 3, so with him having gator and shark in his werebeast form - he would get bigger. The biggest gator was Deinosuchus - around 10 meters (34ft), while the biggest croc was Sarcosuchus - around 40ft long. The biggest shark was Megalodon at around 15 to 18 meters in length. The biggest wolf was the dire wolf and the largest wolf alive is the Mackenzie Valley Wolf.

Also in-between part 3 and part 4, he was studying Marine Biology! THE OCEAN IS THE PREFECT PLACE FOR LARGE ANIMALS!! Jotaro's beast would continue to grow bigger in a very large water environment.

In part 3, he would probably be pulling all the movie - animal attack references just to scare a few enemies. Kakyoin's idea, Polnareff joins in later, Joseph is 50/50 with is idea, and Avdol is trying to handle whatever control is left.

In part 4, he does the same thing - but bigger, maybe. Kira might lose a hand or two for touching his kids. Kira does not get his hand back, at all.

Part 5... A local Florida man claims to have seen a gigantic gator swimming with a group of dolphins, more information coming soon on channel five.

Part 6... At this point, Jotaro may have made friends with every croc, gator, or whatever sea animal in Florida. Like in the ocean community he is well loved, not one animal will talk bad about the Doctor; just happy thoughts all around. Jolyne gets a cool reptile friend in prison, due to dad.

Almost forgot to add this... Iggy has weird feelings about him (wolf part), but then they are somewhat buddies due to Joot giving him big pieces of meat/food. No one knows where Joot gets the meat from, but no one wants to ask either.

- Abe

Y E S

I'm a huge sucker for the thought of "reptiles just keep growing the older they get and they won't stop" and Jotaro absolutely deserves to be a Big Ol Gator As A Treat <3

I'm cackling over the movie attacks and you're 100% correct. Once Kakyoin and Polnareff learn Jotaro isn't completely comfortable with his other half they set out to change that, and what better way to do it than make it fun :3 Jotaro ends up actually having fun too (as much as he denies it) and just. Gets more comfortable with the idea that 1) he's not inherently scary and 2) sometimes being scary wasn't a bad thing

Joseph absolutely enables the kids tho and Avdol is slowly counting to 10 in his head while coming up with an argument for why no Jotaro terrifying tourists in the river is not a good idea I don't care how funny it may be you could get hurt-

I also really love the idea of him and Iggy being Sorta Friends. Iggy frequently hitches rides on Jotaro's back whenever he changes and Jotaro's surprisingly Chill with it

and honestly, I wouldn't put it above Jotaro to just fucking bite Kira, especially if we go with the idea that if they get too injured or afraid they'll instinctively start changing. Maybe with SHA's first attack it was too fast and knocked him out too quick for him to fully change, so just as Koichi is dragging Jotaro's body he's slowly beginning to change. By the time he wakes up he's like..... 3/4 of the way shifted and instead of using Star he just fucking latches onto the guy with his bare teeth and uses Star to restrain Killer Queen

and Jotaro gets to become a Floridian Cryptid. As a treat <333

and this also gave me a THOUGHT for Part 6. What if while Jotaro still gets his disk stolen....... what if it doesn't quite have the same affect

what if instead of rending him comatose, it leaves him as a complete beast. There is no humanity nor any way for him to change back, he's just an unintelligent animal who's injured and afraid. He flees into the waters before Jolyne can do anything

weeks later, rumours start floating around from the guards about a Giant Really Fucking Weird Crocodile/Alligator Thing that's been spotted near the prison a couple times, and Jolyne immediately realises who it is. So when the prisoners are asked to search the marshes, she all but jumps at the chance to find him

maybe she ends up using Foo's help to keep an eye on him. They leave some of their plankton with the gator to keep watch and make sure Jotaro doesn't get into any trouble or wander off too far, and every once in a while Jolyne will send out one of Stone Free's strings to just...... feel for herself that he's still there. She'll talk to him through the string too, because even though she knows he can't understand her, it makes the whole situation feel a little less awful

getting Star's disk to him is LOADS easier too and has way less risk to it. They pretty much just get Weather to use to his Stand and fly the disk over to him, and while that does bring up different obstacles they have to face, it's much much easier then what they go through in canon

[caitie-likes-talking]

so many people ignore avdol (a long complaint and lots of rambling)

Avdol is one of the core character in Part 3, yet it's rare to see content of him outside of the ship between him n Polnareff. This is SO annoying to me. People put their whole tushies into loving Kakyoin (who got so little screen time) but then ignore Avdol. Now I could go into WHY i think this happens, but instead i'll just complain about his treatment in canon as well.

Avdol is treated with less care by canon than any of the other characters. How? He's given no backstory, his death is overshadowed (and unnecessary imo), and he is simply pushed to the side so much.

For example, him and Kakyoin were both sidelined due to injuries in the part, but you know what happens when Kakyoin is killed? He's given an entire backstory (and even flashbacks in the anime.) His death is the key to the other Crusaders learning of Dio's stand ability. Compare this to Avdol's death now.

First of all, why was the fucking dumb dog's death treated as the same level of severity as Avdol's (the PERSON??) Like I can't even find a fucking angst edit abt Avdol's death without people including Iggy clips and voicelines from Polly abt it. Well okay, I know the reason for this. They're treated at the same level in canon. If anything, Polly is practically more torn up over Iggy's death than Avdol's honestly.

It's fucking stupid. First of all, it's ridiculous that Iggy survived longer than Avdol and it's stupid that he's the one who helped actually defeat Vanilla Ice. Secondly, Iggy should've died during the Pet Shop arc in all honesty.

But reallly, it should've been Polnareff to die. Avdol dying in the end is just an unsatisfying arc for the two of them. It's just Avdol sacrificing himself for Polnareff two times and Polly just crying. It would've been better for Polnareff to be able to save his loved one for once, something he couldn't do for Sherry. It would also be more satisfying considering Avdol has, again, already been shot in the head for Polly.

And don't get me started on the bitches that don't include Avdol in SDC content oh my god yall desever NOTHING

TLDR; i love avdol and he deserves MORE

[ravenzeppeli]

⭐️A Liars Punishment |Yandere Polnareff x Reader Angst|

Warning: This one shot is intended for a mature audience of 18+. This one shot contains extreme physical violence, strong language, body mutilation, and torture (acted out before scene).

     “Ah, I see that you’re waking up now! Good, I am so happy that you are up! I can’t wait for you to see what I did to you my darling!” Polnareff exclaimed as your eyes fluttered open. “I had to knock you out once you handed me your engagement ring back like you’re allowed to leave me!”

You went to open your mouth but you couldn’t, you couldn’t open your fucking mouth. Something was.. you felt intense pain in your lips, something keeping your lips from pulling your lips apart. You looked down, eyes growing wide as you saw that your hands were nailed to a wooden chair, keeping you from moving. “Mmm!” You muffled, tears filling your eyes as you stared at your hands.

Blood- blood that belonged to you covered your two hands, a huge nail shoved through each one of your hands. What the fuck did he do to you? You tried to give him the engagement ring back because he was insane and abusive ever since he got back from his three month long business trip to Egypt. He wasn’t your sweet boyfriend anymore, he was an abusive madman and he was killing you. Was this not attempted murder?

        “You promised that you would never leave me but you attempted to last night. I don’t like liars Y/N, liars deserve to get punished so for the time being I sewed your mouth shut while you were knocked out. I’ll remove the stitches and the nails when I feel like my point is made loud and clear,” he said softly, a wide smile appearing on his lips. His baby blue eyes stared into your soul- why wouldn’t he look away?

         You tried to move your hands up, causing the nail to rip deeper into your palms, a muffled scream escaping your sewn up lips. You didn’t deserve this- nobody fucking deserved this. You regret not sneaking off at night, you should have just ran and ran until your feet were sore from running.. the dull ache of your feet would be nothing compared to the pain that you were feeling now. You had to try and give him the ring.. you were a fucking idiot. You should of known better but you thought that you would be safe.

When he came back you noticed that his eyes that were once so filled with light and happiness grew darker- the darkness started when his younger sister got brutally murdered but it became much worse when he returned home. He didn’t tell you a thing but in his lips you always hear him mutter the names, Avdol, Iggy, Kakyoin, Avdol being the name he said most frequently as he slept beside you, talking in his sleep. You never asked him.. you were always too scared to ask him.

Tears fell from your eyes, rolling down your cheeks as your body shook from pain. A mouth wasn’t meant to be sewn shut. Hands weren’t meant to be nailed to a chair. You couldn’t scream nor run. All you could do was cry as your blood dripped onto the floor below you. Drip, drop, drip.. if only you could just focus on that one sound, but having Polnareff standing right in front of you had your complete focus. At any time, he could snap and hurt you.. and you wouldn’t be able to do a damn thing about it.

He sat on the floor across from you, his silver hair in small curls, hanging past his shoulders as he wore a black tank top, his massive biceps glistening with light beads of sweat It was hot in here - in whatever room he had you in, the air was sticky and stale. “If you move it’ll only make things worse. It will only hurt worse, and the same goes for your mouth. I won’t take you to the hospital Y/N, I will just let you bleed out, but I will not let you die. As long as I’m here you’ll never die.. you will never be taken away from me.”

The switch in his eyes was instant, eyes growing hard but watery at the same time - so soft yet so dangerous. “If hurting you means that you will stay alive and safe, then so be it. If I stay on top of things I can prevent your death, I can save you, and you could save me too! Why would you ever want to leave me? I can keep you safe!” He stood up, his massive fork towering over you. “Your voice.. I need to hear it. Apologies, but this will hurt you. You can scream if you want because nobody will be able to hear you. Not where we are at. Only the rats will hear your screams.”

He right hand grasped your top left lip, and his left hand grasped your bottom. Without a warning, he pulled your lips apart with one rough pull, a scream instantly escaping your lips, blood pouring from your lips, staining your shirt with red. Dark red.. it was so red, so much blood. You felt dizzy and lightheaded.. why was the room swinging back and forth?

"Your lips will heal. It will heal just in time for our wedding in three months, but if you don’t behave I’ll keep your mouth stitched up forever. I’ll keep you here, alone.. do you want to be alone in a hot and disgusting place like this? With your lips sewn shut and your hands nailed to a chair?” He questioned softly, placing his left hand on your cheek. Despite the heat of the room, his hand was ice cold - the hand of a monster.

You sobbed, shaking your head because you didn’t want to stay in a place like this. You just wanted to go home, and you wanted to go to sleep, so you wouldn’t have to be in so much pain right now. You wanted peace.. and you would only get that peace if you stayed with him. Your only chance of getting even a little peace was staying with your abuser that you could never escape - that was your fate. You now knew that as your lips bled, you felt loose pieces of your skin just barely hanging on, your palms nailed to a wooden chair.. he could do worse. He could do so much worse.

“I-I.. I will stay by your side. A-always and forever,” you whispered, closing your eyes. “I-I’m all yours.” You rather be dead than all this, but you knew that he would never kill you. He just wanted to torture you and make you comply.. he won. You’ve fully complied simply because you couldn’t handle any more pain.

“Good, that’s what I thought. Don’t make this same mistake twice Y/N, because the second time will be much worse,” he warned you sharply, the sharpness in his tone cutting into you like sharp knife, leaving behind its permanent scar. After today.. you would always just be a shell of yourself, a prisoner dying to break free. “Now let’s get these huge nails out of your hands. This will also hurt a lot, but you’ll be fine. Yes, you’ll be okay.. I’m here to protect you. I will keep you safe.”