#keeps the setting vague af :')

[sungracd]

@abyssl:  ❝ this little village used to be as quiet as a dusty old tomb. ❞

"A little renovation can go a long ways, hm?"  Provided by the Fatui no less.  Like any business there is profit to be made in even the smallest decisions, but if done right both parties will benefit in the long term.  And Adrian much prefers doing business the right way, despite what the general public may believe of their organization.

The Saint and Harbinger stand at the entrance, looking out among the children at play and adults going about their day — a farcry from the village nearly abandoned years ago.  There's a particular house the Lady Saint intends to visit today, footsteps continuing along the destined path.  "You are aware a Lord Harbinger needn't have accompanied me to such a small town for such a small task?"

They are grateful nonetheless, eyes flitting towards the other with a certain warmth and familiarity beneath their reserved facade.  "Or should I presume you've some business to attend to here as well?"

[moonlightlacrima]

can ignore, im just venting in the tags

[archie-sunshine]

Sorry to just kinda creep into your ask box like this but you know your shit better than I do.

So I ask you like the awkward goblin I am if you have any advice for someone trying to get into making comics? Cus like, I'm lost af and I vaguely remember you mentioning that you learned to draw from comic books.

quick correction, i got into drawing from a comic drawing WORKSHOP so i've specifically worked with professionals for whom comics are an art form and full time job.

SO! Lets talk about comics!!

comics are complicated. it's about as close to animation as you can get on a still page, so it's an art form that follows similar principles! some things to keep in mind as you read comics that may help you in your endeavors are:

-panel placement -pacing and -story

I've just flipped to a random page in this issue of mtmte (thank you alex milne) as an example

So lets break it down.

In our first panel, drift establishes the action (we are in a fight!) and he's posed in a sort of triumphant mid swing after icing two cons, taking up the majority of the panel to convey both his speed and importance. this tells us we are likely winning this fight. This also tells us drift is on a roll.

but AHA! the next panel has rodimus grappling someone. we're close in, the tension is high, this could go either way, you're leaking in to read his text, and ah, he's struggling, oh no-!

BUT THEN! SHOCK! An action has disrupted our expectation, drift has stabbed this guy in the face!! payoff!!

aaaand ahhh... release. the action is over, drift has won, the page is paid off. we take a step back, and the framing here is clearly comedic. They are standing over a corpse griping over who's kill it was, so the framing makes them feel smaller and stupider, because this is objectively a stupid argument.

see what im getting at here?

The first and last panels are splash panels, they introduce us to the action, as if we're zooming in on a shot, then zoom us out to move on to the next scene, but in the middle there are two panels that draw us into the scene, invest us in the action, because they're so close up.

when you work on a comic, consider how a reader would consume this page. is this page one they're meant to linger on? or one where the reader should be on the edge of their seat prepared to flip to the next one?

when you place the panels, you set the pace and emotion of the page like a pathway for your readers to walk down, so its up to you how the pathway is laid out!

happy comicking!

[babydin]

Love in the Middle of a Firefight

The pregnancy is easy, despite the circumstances. The pregnancy was the easy part, Joel was supportive, he helped out, he ran around like a Retriever whenever you asked him to and Ellie asked a million questions every single day. But when the baby arrives Joel doesn't know if he remembers how to love something so fragile. - Joel Miller x f!reader - 18+, minors DNI! - (1/?) - Joel is dad, Joel is Daddy, paternal postnatal depression, pregnancy sex, oral. Not necessarily in this chapter, but for sure in this series!! Trauma references. Domesticated af. Angsty in places! - 1868 words - Comments/likes appreciated. Requests are open! - A/N: I didn't think too hard about the timeline, just vaguely after the events of S1, they go to Jackson to Tommy's place and live there and nothing bad happens. This will be in multiple parts but I haven't planned for how many! There will be time-jumps in each of the parts because I'm impatient™️

You haven’t heard him say the word ‘resources’ since the three of you were backpacking across the country trying to get to Jackson and your heart breaks at how quickly he has slipped back into survival mode.

“Joel I–” The words catch in your throat as he looks up at you after hearing his name. He always has an expectant look on his face whenever you say his name; he’d been so attentive since the two of you had settled town in Jackson with Ellie. You didn’t dare say it out loud, or to his face, but the man was domesticated. He was tamed and you hadn’t done a thing, he’d just set his battles aside. Both of them were, Ellie had agreed to go to school, and Joel helped around the town in the mornings then returned home for a late lunch. Just to prove your point, he was doing dishes when you found him.   “Joel, I’m late.”

He set down the bowl from breakfast he was drying with a dish towel and then wiped his hands on his jeans, “Well, where d’ya need t’ be? I’ll drive you.” Your face scrunches and you shake your head, you’d smile if you weren’t so scared. You don’t want to say it out loud, saying it out loud would make it real. Maybe if the world hadn’t fallen apart and supplies weren’t limited, risks weren’t significantly higher because of all of that you’d be a little more excited, you’d have ran to the nearest drugstore to buy a home pregnancy test and taken it immediately. “Joel.” you say his name again, firmer this time, hoping he hears you. He’s halfway between grabbing the keys to his truck and the kitchen sink, those attentive eyes trying so desperately to figure out what you’re trying to say. Your fingers grip the counter and your heels push back into the ground so your head can bow down to the ground;  if you’re going to say it, you don’t want to look at him, “I haven’t missed a period since I was 14. You could set a clock on it. I should’ve had it three fuckin’ weeks ago, Joel.” His silence is deafening. There’s no elation, there isn’t any regret though either, and if you know Joel like you think you do he’s probably going through the same thought process as you are. Thinking about where the supplies are going to come from, how the baby is going to be born, babies had been born since the outbreak it wasn’t unheard of but he wasn’t exactly carrying a four leafed clover. Except you knew Joel’s history, you knew he had lost a child, you knew he had struggled to bond with Ellie when they first met, you knew how reluctant he had been to open his heart up to being a father again when he felt himself getting closer to her. But he was a dad now, her dad; they had a strange relationship and they cursed at each other and played at roughhousing in the living room, they’d zing each other and then laugh about it afterwards, but Joel tucked her in every night and he listened to her problems and helped her with homework, and hugged her so tightly when her emotions got too big for her to voice. You take a breath and it shakes in desperation, fighting to keep your shit together as you felt his gaze burning into you, “Say something Joel, for fucks sa–” “It’s going to be fine.” There was that asshole voice you thought he had given up when you had settled down in Tommy’s town, you had to pull yourself upwards to look at him because you did not believe a single syllable that came out of his mouth. Not in that flat, robotic tone. That wasn’t a reassurance that was a reaction. That was just something he was saying to make you feel better, it wasn’t something he believed. Suddenly, his jagged expression softened and he pushed his jaw out slightly, his eyes got bigger and he shifted his weight from one foot to the other. He repeats himself, “It’s going to be fine.” this time he sounds so sure. He sounds like he has a plan, he sounds like he’d walk through gunfire for you. “Let me – Let me talk to Tommy; See what kinda resources they have, maybe they got one’a those ultrasound machines,” he starts rushing, grabbing his boots and trying to put them on without sitting down which does nothing for his back, “then we’ll know for sure.” You blink hard, you haven’t heard him say the word ‘resources’ since the three of you were backpacking across the country trying to get to Jackson and your heart breaks at how quickly he has slipped back into survival mode. “I’m sorry.” you whisper the words but he doesn’t hear you.  “I’ll be back.” he kisses your cheek and then he’s gone. You picture a world before the outbreak, where Joel never endured all that trauma and you tell him you think you’re pregnant and his face lights up and he picks you up and spins you around and offers to book your first scan. You’d spend hours on the couch talking about nursery ideas and baby names, and tell him not to get his hopes up in case you’re not actually pregnant but he just scoffs. Before the outbreak, you would’ve told Joel you thought you were pregnant and he would’ve been an excitable dad of two. In the outbreak, you told Joel you thought you were pregnant and his first instinct was how to survive it.  You sit on the couch with your arms wrapped around you and wait for him to come back. A million thoughts swirling around in your mind about every possible outcome of this, you tried your hardest to focus on the ones that ended happily, but without Joel there it was hard. “Come on.” You jump at the sound of Joel’s voice, your eyes finding a clock to see how long you had been sitting in your thoughts as he pulls you up off the couch. He’d come back at least. “Put your shoes on, darlin’. The hospital has an ultrasound, they’re callin’ for a nurse to meet us there.” It wasn’t much of a hospital, it was a bakery they had used for medical supplies. There was a refrigerator and storage large enough for medicines but it was a glorified med-bay at best. Nothing bad enough happened in Jackson for them to need a full hospital, if it did they’d have to drive out of town, and if they were lucky they'd make it in time to return for them to recover at home. In the 8 months you’d lived there, the worst thing that had happened was Mr Jellinsky getting chased out of the chicken coop by a pissed off rooster. He tripped and got his ass bit right between the cheeks and Joel laughed and said, “There’s a dick joke to be said, but I ain’t gon’ be the one to say it.” and you had never heard him sound more Southern. “Joel, what–” You didn’t know how that sentence ended. What if you are pregnant? What if you died in childbirth leaving him a single father of two? What if you weren’t pregnant? What are you going to do with a baby? “Put your shoes on.” He moved to grab your shoes from the door and brought them to your feet. “Joel—” He bent down and picked your feet up off the ground one by one to slip them into your sneakers, “You ain’t gotta worry ‘bout a thing right now, okay? Let’s just let the nurses look at’cha and then we’ll talk.” “Are you scared?” Joel stood up and scoffed a little, he looked at you with those heavy brown eyes once again searching for your soul,reading you like a book. There was a time when he would’ve lied and tightened his jaw and said no, but not these days. “Sweet thing, I’m terrified. Let’s go.” It wasn’t at all far for you to walk from your little cabin-like home to the place you needed to be, Joel slipped his hand into yours half way there and you found such comfort in the way his large hands enveloped yours. You had never noticed how many babies were in Jackson until now, and the parents all seemed content with their lives here. As you laid back on the gurney and answered the nurse’s questions, you occasionally glanced over at Joel. He’s been here before and he’s trying to figure out how to be there again, his teeth are chewing on the inside of his cheek, you’re desperate to know if he’s more anxious to hear a yes or a no. “Have you had any other symptoms besides your period being late?” You shrug and shake your head, you’ve never been pregnant before so you don’t know what ‘symptoms’ means in this case. “Have you been peeing more than usual? Any nausea in the morning?” You try to remember, and shake your head but you really don’t recall. “Any cramping?” You hum and put your hand on your stomach but she bats it away softly so she can pull up your shirt and prepare it for the ultrasound, “I mean, a little but I was just expecting my period so I didn’t really think anything of it…” “Any tenderness or soreness in your breasts?” You shake your head again but Joel clicks his tongue in protest and pipes up in a voice that’s so gravely and sounds like he hasn’t spoken in a week, “You wouldn’t let me touch you last week because you said your nipples were sore.” You take a moment to consider his words and he almost has you convinced that maybe you are pregnant. A cold jelly like substance is dispensed onto your stomach and you gasp and your muscles twitch, the nurse smiles and apologizes. You turn to the screen and Joel moves closer to you. It fills with static that ebbs and flows as the nurse moves the probe around your lower stomach. Even as she explains it to you, you can’t make out what exactly you are looking at but you trust she knows. Then she stops, and Joel sinks to his knees, “This is your uterus–” she gestures on the screen, He wraps both of his hands around yours and brings your knuckles to his lips and you can feel his smile and his heavy breaths as he becomes overcome with emotions. “--- and this little thing here that looks like a peanut…” She didn’t need to finish that sentence for you to know how it ended. The way Joel had reacted, the way it looked on the screen, barely there but very much obvious. Your cargo. You look at Joel as the nurse tells you that you’re pregnant and his eyes are full of tears that he doesn’t allow himself to cry, he’s hiding his mouth behind your hand but his cheeks are dimpled and you know he’s smiling. Relief washes over you and you feel like a fool for doubting him for a second, a fraction of your anxieties lift and you realize he’s with you. When he said it was going to be fine, he meant it.

[hypnagogics]

going to the library with girlfriend ellie.

☆: another random, self indulgent af blurb. i love libraries, and ellie, and drabbles, and writing fluffy things for y'all. this one's definitely not my best work, but i really wanted to put a little something out anyway. there's something so healing about writing fluff.

trek, trek, you hear behind you, as you race through the endless sea of tall shelves, the musty scent of old paper filling your nose. like a machine you scan the aisles, picking up book after book excitedly. you open it, read and decide, yes, this one too! the peace of libraries has always brought you comfort, and hallucinating whilst staring at a dead tree reading has always been your favorite activity. but you’ve run out of things to read which warranted yet another trip to the greatest place on earth. unfortunately for her, you've tasked ellie to be the carrier of all the novels.

"baaaaabe, do you really need this many??" she whines and pouts, as she trails behind you and struggles to keep up.

you turn back to look at her, almost stumbling with a huge stack in her arms which is almost taller than her, it's honestly unbelievable how she hasn't toppled over yet. she frowns at you, earning a chuckle on your part. she's so cute.

"just a little more! you agreed to come with me, els, you knew what you were signing up for. and yes i do need that many, books are my life. books and you, of course."

"but my arms are gonna fall off..." she steadies herself and huffs. "fine, but let's sit down in a few minutes, 'kay?"

grinning widely and and nodding, you take a few of the books from the top to ease the weight, then you skip off happily once more to peruse the shelves, searching for something to grasp your attention, and vaguely convinced you heard ellie tsk-ing behind you. after a bit she goes to sit down on the armchairs in a little corner with a cozy lamp, slumps into the cushions with a grunt, and is relieved she can finally set down the stack she was carrying. you're too absorbed in walking around to notice, but ellie is watching you with a smile from her seat, wondering how in the world she got lucky to have such a curious minded, smart, and loving girlfriend. you meant the world to her. as you scampered around, collecting more and more books, you catch her eye and wave, and her heart just about jumps out of her chest then and there.

when returning to your tired girlfriend, she's keeping herself occupied by checking out the synopses on all the books, with genuine interest.

"i'm back!" you say in a cheery tone, cheeks warming as you add, "may have gone a bit overboard this time, sorry for making you carry it all."

"hey! no, no, i love doing this with you. honest." she smiles warmly back at you, taking half the stack you're carrying in her arms, dividing the entire haul between the two of you. the two of you begin to walk to the desk to check out, until her emerald eyes light up and she remembers, "do they carry comics here?"

"uh, i think so.."

"BE RIGHT BACK-"

she suddenly dashes off with no warning, leaving you with the sighing librarian as she has to take a look to see what they've got.

this little outing turned out better than you had expected. next stop, a hole in the wall cafe for some lunch.

☆: not sure how i feel about this one honestly, but wanted to write a little something. hope y'all still like it! oh also, does the tiny text bother y'all? lemme know and i'll use the regular one, this one's aesthetically pleasing to me, but could be annoying. ellie n her comics own my heart.

[agentmarcuspike]

frankie morales x dominatrix (+ ex!reader)

synopsis: after breaking up with you on a self sabotaging whim, frankie finds his way back into familiar arms to cope content warnings: mentions of drugs and addiction, sub!frankie, destructive and avoidant behavior, sex work, joi (jerk-off instructions), masturbation (m), degredation kink, vague descriptions of dissociation, dom's name is jessica (after my hero @hier--soir), cum, some pain and tears related to jerking off (stop if it hurts, guys!), military related trauma, very brief attempt at aftercare word count: ~ 2.7k a/n: my first frankie fic! thank you, han @swiftispunk, for proof reading af, for encouraging me to conquer my p0rn shame, and of course for writing such an inspiring sub!frankie. we love him (and u)

Frankie knew it wasn’t fair to you. He knew he’d cause you pain by ending things after twelve amazing, promising months. But compared to the inevitable pain he was doomed to bring everyone he loved and cared for, it was nothing. 

He’d been clean for a mere week when you met, and the rush you gave him had been enough to replace the rush of a high. For a while. But when the withdrawals and unrest returned, and the butterflies could no longer keep the cravings at bay, you’d held him through the tremors, wiped the cold sweat off his forehead, and at no point had you judged him for his past or his way of coping. You’d loved him. 

And you still did. 

Did he love you too? Most likely. Probably. Yes. Which was why he had done what he had. Because you deserved someone better for you. Someone without his history, his trauma, his wounds. No matter how much he loved you for tending to them, you shouldn’t have had to. And that’s why he’d left, on this gloomy Sunday evening, with no other explanation than, “I’m sorry.”

It’s also why Frankie finds himself roaming the chilly city, street lights blurry, all noises softened by a thick layer of apathy. He has no idea how long he’s been walking, no idea whether he’s tired or not. He feels like a shadow of himself, with no wants or needs, no ambition or goals. Just a body moving, constantly moving, to avoid having to think or feel. But as a bicycle quickly swooshes past him on the sidewalk, almost knocking him over, he stops in his tracks and looks around. 

He finds he’s made his way to the other side of town. The air is thicker here somehow, heavier with desperation than in the area he'd tricked himself into thinking he'd belonged in for the past couple years, amongst white picket fences and successful neighbors.

Here, the atmosphere is familiar. People seeking shelter between dumpsters, some asleep, some chasing relief in a fashion Frankie is all too acquainted with. A single buzz goes off in his head when the urge comes back to him. It would be so easy. He knows where to get it, knows how it works. Where to go, who to see, what to say. It would give him the energy to do whatever he could to keep this heartache away. 

So he sets his legs back in motion. At the end of the street, they make a conscious right, a left, and then his mind is wandering again, off in a different direction than his feet. And then his feet stop. He’s standing outside of a regal looking building. Off-white stone façade, adorned with French balconies and decorations, art deco mascarons staring down at him with empty eyes.

Two white columns frame the heavy front door he’s walked through so many, many times. Not since you, though. Frankie has not had the need to visit this place since you first locked eyes with him. 

Without a second thought, before he can change his mind, he rings the doorbell and he’s buzzed inside. With every heavy step up the marble stairs, echoing off the shiny walls, the lights in Frankie’s brain turn off one by one. As he reaches the fourth floor, he’s merely a shell of himself, a puppet on a pair of floppy strings, longing for someone to take control.

He stands still on the landing for a minute, breathing slowly, deliberately, waiting for his arm to rise and knock on its own. It doesn’t, so he orders his hand to place three quick raps on the door.

A few seconds later, a woman comes out. Her hair is tied up, haphazardly moved out of her face and neck with an elegant claw clip. The hand she’s not using to hold the door open is placed in front of her, fingers in a fist clutching the two sides of a silk robe together, careful not to expose more of herself than what’s already poking out from underneath the short covering.

“Frankie…?” she asks, brows raised in surprise. 

He gives her a nod and a weak, “Hi” in response, clearing his throat and repeating the greeting. “Jessica,” he mutters. 

The woman takes a step over the doorstep, pulling her robe tighter around herself.

“I didn’t expect you! We didn’t have an appointment today, did we?” Her voice is slightly panicked, worried she’s forgotten, her eyes darting quickly down to the non-existent watch on her wrist.

Frankie shakes his head. “No.” He shifts his weight from one leg to the other, opening and closing his fidgety hands. “I just…” His voice cracks, he swallows and tries again. 

“I just need two minutes.” 

Something in his core refuses to let him look at the woman in front of him. 

He knows her well, knows she’d never judge him. She’s seen him in much more vulnerable positions than this, and yet, something about being so emotionally affected in front of her has him staring at the floor.

She leans down, bending at the waist and tilting her head to find his eyes, making him look at her. When he does, his voice is weak, but assured. He knows what he needs. “Please.”

The plea is enough. Jessica gives him a subtle nod before stepping aside and letting Frankie in. 

He automatically kicks off his shoes and parks them by the door. Straightening back up, arms fixed by his sides, he awaits further instruction.  

“Clothes off, sweetie,” Jessica commands softly. “And wait right here for me. Be right back.” She disappears from the hallway and into the living room, leaving Frankie alone to undress. He makes quick work of it, not bothering with all the buttons, careless about whether they end up inside out or not. 

He sheds his clothes like he wants to shed his skin and grow a new one. A brand new layer, thicker than the one he has, one free of marks from your bruising touch.

On autopilot, he drops to his knees on the tiled hallway floor, hands clasped behind his back, easily and comfortably slipping back into the familiar cadence of compliance. 

The hard cold surface keeps him from crashing into the floor, from falling through it, by burrowing into his knees, stone against bone. He forces all of his attention to the sensation; the dull ache in his kneecaps, the strain in his thighs. The feeling of staying in position despite the discomfort fills him with a sense of pride and control only certain things can give him. One of them is playing the part of soldier, fighting on someone else’s behalf. The other is this; surrendering completely to someone else’s needs and wishes. 

Jessica is back a quick minute later. 

“Come in, Frankie.” 

Hands on the floor for support, he rises and follows her. 

The room isn’t new to him. He’s seen it before, but only in passing, on his way to her bedroom, to the bathroom and back again. But he’s never spent time there, or had the opportunity to really see her private space. It’s a stark contrast to her cold and minimal bedroom. The space isn’t big, so the green velvet couch placed in the middle of the room instead of against a wall is a bold choice. To the left and right of the sofa sit two small side tables, the floor space covered by a massive persian rug. 

Jessica gestures to this rug as she sits, legs crossed and arm thrown casually over the back of the sofa, causing her robe to cleave at the top, showing off her clavicles. 

Frankie finds his place in the middle of the carpet. He should feel vulnerable, fully naked in a new environment. But Jessica’s mild authority, untroubled by the situation, keeps him calm. 

“You just need two minutes, you said?” 

Frankie nods. 

“Very well, then. Two minutes is what you get,” she declares. And then, demanding:

“Kneel.”

And Frankie does. One knee at a time touches the soft carpet beneath him. His hands come down to support him before he sits back on his heels, head bowed, only looking up at her through his lashes when he hears her shuffle.

From the side table to her right, she picks up a round egg shaped gadget and turns the top and bottom halves in opposite directions. For a second he thinks it’s gonna vibrate, until he hears the ticking. Jessica puts the kitchen timer back down on the side table.

“Those are your precious seconds, big boy. You better start touching yourself.”

Frankie’s hand automatically shoots down to palm himself, already half hard from excitement, but seeing his hesitant movements, she clarifies.

“Two minutes to come for me, or you’re not gonna be allowed to come in a very…,” She drags out the pause between the words, “...Very long time. Understand?”

Frankie nods. 

“Use your words, baby.”

“Yes, ma’am.” His voice is hoarse with anticipation. “I understand, ma’am.”

“Good boy.” She gives him a wink. “Now go on, make yourself come for me.”

Her command, combined with the ticking sound of time passing, has him quickly tugging at himself, eroticizing anything and everything he can see around him to get there; Jessica’s toned and shiny calves, the way a stray piece of hair has escaped her claw clip and softly caresses her cheekbone. His hand is tight around his cock as he fists himself frantically. Precum starts to gather at his tip, glistening in the soft lighting, and he smears it over his length.

Jessica spreads her legs on the couch in front of him, making Frankie groan with impatience, but she quickly places a hand in her lap, blocking his view.

“Look at you. So needy, so whiny.”

Frankie moans, not meeting her gaze, the quick pumps of his wrist making him sore and frustrated and he can feel something building, but he’s not quite there yet.

“I haven’t even undressed and you’re all worked up.” Her voice is soft and obnoxiously affectionate. “How pathetic.” 

He finally looks up at her face, his sad eyes begging for more; Frankie wants her to look at him too. Wants her to see him. But she doesn’t pay him any mind, she’s only eyeing the ticking clock. 

“One minute now,” she tsks. “It’s all the time you deserve, to be honest.”

And now she looks at him. Her gaze is sharp and domineering, but there’s something round behind it. Something in the shape of worry. It quickly disappears when she speaks again.

“You’re not worth any more of my attention,” she continues. “A disgrace, that’s what you are. Just a dirty, filthy masturbator.” 

As she shifts slightly in her seat, her robe slips off of one of her shoulders, exposing more of her skin and chest. Frankie swallows harshly at the sight. 

Mouth agape, tongue poking out to wet his lips, he squeezes his eyes shut, focusing only on the command, his one objective: come. The soft hairs of the carpet are starting to feel like knives, boring into his skin, a welcome pain were it not distracting him from the task at hand. He shifts ever so slightly from side to side, relieving his knees from the hurt in turn.

Jessica must sense his discomfort, because she purrs, 

“You’re not gonna come all over my carpet, are you?”

Frankie shakes his head frantically and begins to walk on his knees towards the shiny hardwood floor. 

“I’d have to make you clean it up,” Jessica continues.

Tears are pushing behind Frankie’s eyes as he nears release. His toes curl, and he grits his teeth, trying to block out the timer’s insistent ticks. 

“10 seconds, now,” she informs him. He squeezes his cock even harder, pumping himself with short quick strokes. Blood rushes through his ears, muffling Jessica’s voice as she counts down.

“Five, four…”

He’s outside of his body. His breath hitches.

“Three, two–”

As the room fills with the shrill of the alarm, Frankie’s cock pulses in his hand, spurting thick ropes of hot cum onto the floor. He keeps going, using his own spend as lubrication, choking his hard length until he’s shuddering, hunched over, sweaty and teary eyed. 

Frankie’s body slants forward. He steadies himself with his hands on his thighs, blinking slowly as he concentrates on catching his breath, returning his body. Jessica is patient. She waits until his chest fills and empties itself of air at a reasonable pace, and then she stands up and walks towards him. 

His head shoots up when she reaches him, but she places herself behind him, a comforting hand on each of his shoulders, and bends down to kiss his head.

“Stay,” she whispers as she gets back up and moves to leave the room, Frankie left on the floor with his thoughts and his mess. He wonders if he should clean up–even if he had managed to avoid the carpet–but he doesn’t have time to do anything before Jessica is back. She’s carrying his things, his shirt hanging over her arm as she works to turn his other clothes right side out. 

Slowly, carefully, she helps him back into what he’d been wearing when he’d arrived. One hand through the sleeve. Then the other. Stepping into his underwear, then his jeans, one leg at a time. She saves his hat for last. Before placing it over his messy head of curls, she cups his face with the palm of her hand. 

She leans in, placing a delicate kiss to his cheek, lips barely brushing his skin. Frankie blinks. Accepting softness from Jessica isn’t new to him, but the words she gives him after take him by surprise.

“I’m proud of you, Frankie.” 

Her eyes are earnest, open, genuine. He almost finds it in him to believe her, and allows himself to lean into her touch, resting his heavy head on her palm for a second shorter than he’d like to, breaking away when the darkness behind his closed eyelids makes way for pictures of you holding him, him leaning back on you. 

He quickly reassesses, telling himself this is your job, that he’s a customer, that he hadn’t even made an appointment. He should tip you at least 200%. Shaky hands dig into the pockets of his jeans, pulling out no more than two twenties. 

Swearing under his breath, Frankie starts to panic. 

“I– I didn’t…” he begins. “It was so spontaneous–”

She shushes him. “Don’t worry about it.” Her smile is heartfelt, which embarasses him even more. “I’m just glad you came.”

Frankie shakes his head. “No, I wanna pay. I mean, speaking of coming, let me at least wipe my cum off your floor.” He gestures to the sticky mess slowly coagulating on her floorboards. 

Jessica snickers.

“Do you do the dishes when you’ve eaten out too?” She raises her brows, and he chuckles, shaking his head quietly. 

“It’s all part of the service, baby. Come on, let me walk you out.”

On the doorstep, he gives Jessica a quick kiss goodbye. He thanks her again, and she thanks him back, though for what he’s not sure. Visiting? Choosing her? The company? Either way, he takes her gratitude and shoves it in his pocket with the twenties. When he reaches the lobby, passing a wall full of mailboxes, he quickly locates hers, and swiftly shoves the two bills into the mouth of it. 

Frankie’s feet start moving down the street, and his head absentmindedly follows. His skull is no less heavy, the feelings just as painful, and pictures of you still project onto the insides of his eyelids every time he blinks. But a lightness now coats his mind. A sense of victory. He resisted the easy way out. He chose to stay sober, even though he could’ve so easily gone back to his old ways of burying any unwanted feelings in torrents of snow. 

And with that feeling of achievement, of growth and gain, he realizes where his feet are taking him. The tall buildings turn into houses, the shop windows into white picket fences. In the distance he makes out the house you’ve made a home together. He prays you’ll open the door. That you’ll give him some time. He just needs two minutes.

i have a feeling tumblr is limiting my posts or something, and i don't have a taglist, so here are some absolutely no pressure tags for people i think might enjoy this/who have liked my previous fics?? let me know if i'm wrong!!

@joelsversion @joelscruff @missredherring @iamasaddie @toxicrecs @eupheme @sweetercalypso @mrsmando @lunitareads @amanitacowboy @tieronecrush @psychedelic-ink @perotovar @thetriumphantpanda @joelsgreys @undercoverpena @pedgito @wannab-urs @gasolinerainbowpuddles @thelightsandtheroses

[yeehawpim]

HI UM i really admire you and your art and i was wondering --

so i really love the way you format your comics, its really straight-forward and lets the reader process every word with ease (which i think adds to the impact of the writing), and that one rue comic with the split colors for the parentheses... how do you do it without making it look so messy?? to bring up another example, the hide-and-seek comic- i love how subtle and genius the call back to hiding behind the door was, it blew my mind... i take a lot of inspiration from the way you format and lay out your comics but for some reason i cant wrap my head around how you do so much with so little (in reality this might just be the result of me wanting to add so many little details for others to find , while being conflicted on keeping it simple, and,,, AGH...) for context : im trying to make a comic about isolation, but i keep filling up the page because i want to add things - when really i know i should be keeping it simple... but other than removing unnecessary details, i want to know what else you do to make your comics so clean and simple yet it rips out the emotions from your heart and has you stare at it as it beats. like... i want that type of impact!! i want to affect others on such an intense level!! i want to induce emotions!!! but how?

(sorry this was long, HAHAHA i just want to drive my point home- again with the 'wanting to add a lot of stuff to prove a point' thing but i digress)

ok first of all that is a huge compliment and it means v much to me, thank you 😭🙏❤️❤️

tbh for me the answer of keeping things uncluttered is paying attention to spacing and eye direction. Spacing depends on timing, if you want an action to happen slowly for instance you can make the space between panels longer, or take more panels for someone to complete an action. There's tricks for directing your eye, if you ever read anyth about focal points (eg biggest contrast, triangular shapes pointing towards what's important), but really with comics I keep in mind you're reading left to right and top to bottom.

The ruehob comic is actually simpler than you think 😅 I already knew which text had to be on the left and right with august's text post. And after that the "lanes" were so narrow there weren't a lot of complicated things I could do, just make sure you still read left to right and saunter vaguely downwards.

when you talk about putting little details, that doesn't necessarily have to distract people. Like I honestly applaud you having the drive to do detailing. You just have to make sure your compositions allow for it. Like if you think about ghibli backgrounds, they're elaborate and beautiful af.

For smth about isolation, my first thought was that you can draw a person in a setting alone among a bunch of objects, for instance. If you keep the person small but surround them with a bunch of detailed objects, it could feel very lonely. Just make sure the person still stands out b/c they're what's important, so for example the background stuff is a less saturated colour, or the person is the least detailed thing on the page. I think that's the main thing, you just have to make sure the things important to what you're saying stand out. Clarity is rlly half the battle when I'm laying things out haha

In school our teacher called this "killing your babies" because it sucks when you work hard on a cool drawing and it just doesn't work out😂This also still happens to me, it's actually partly why I keep things simple so I can work fast and throw out less

Here is a timestamp from supereyepatchwolf's video about Chainsaw Man, which has some of the coolest fuckin layouts

He's got other stuff that talks about manga and how eye direction can work and what cool stuff has been done. Off the top of my head his vid about one piece and his vid about gantz have helped me understand how to cause Emotions. Also I think he has one about Junji Ito that specifically talks about how details can make you scared, if you're into that 😂

hope this helps!

[pinkarachnia]

Lesbian Anime Review #12 - Revolutionary Girl Utena & Adolescence of Utena

Hey

That was funny revolutionary

How does one review a piece of media so foundational to everything else that it inspired?

Going into Utena, I felt like I wanted the show to prove itself to me. Why is this one always put on such a pedestal? When something is so universally acclaimed as this, it sets expectations so high it should be unreasonable for it to meet them.

And yet.

Utena serves as a reminder that sometimes we put pieces of media on a pedestal because they've earned gold.

In this show a girl transforms into a cow and the cow returns for the movie.

My biggest criticism of this show is it needs a flashing lights warning all over it. Some of the shots are really difficult to look at, which is such a shame considering how gorgeous the animation can be.

I don't know if it's possible for me to have an original thought about Utena. After finishing it and the subsequent movie, I spent some time listening to people's takes, impressions, and theories about it. I gained a lot of insight through that process. It helps that people have had a lot of time to dwell on this show and its meaning. When I finished it, I felt that I was still searching for more of that meaning. Utena doesn't try to explain what its themes and symbolism mean and a lot is left to the audience to interpret, but I got the distinct impression that it was supposed to carry a specific meaning, not something vague or nebulous. For a while this meant that I felt frustrated that after everything I still had lingering questions, as though there should have been answers I could have found, but by now I think I'm content. I found answers to the questions that needed answers, and what was left could remain unanswered and that was okay.

Anyway, Nanami episodes.

Utena is a show that has a serious plot with the duels and the student council and the absolute destiny apocalypse and all that, but every 4 episodes or so you're treated to a precious gift in the form of an episode centred around this little shit head.

She's the best character and she has ridiculous episodes that seem only tenuously canonical but I'll be damned if they weren't fantastic.

I really liked the part where she was pursued relentlessly by a group of elephants while she tried to acquire a rare spice to create a curry that will reverse Utena and Anthy's body swap.

RELENTLESSLY.

So this anime is about a girl called Utena who wants to be a prince because when she was a kid, a prince showed her kindness when her parents died and gave her a ring that would apparently lead her back to him eventually, and she thought that guy was sick AF.

Utena is good at sports and wears a masculine school uniform and all the girlies like her. She learns that the student council at her new school is fucked up and they've all got the same rings as her, which identify them as duelists. They have sword fights to determine who has the right to marry the Rose Bride, a girl called Anthy. Utena thinks this whole system is batshit, but she has to fight duel after duel because she just keeps winning and people keep challenging her. Anthy seems unnervingly chill about a lot of it, but also seems genuinely happier when she gets to be with Utena rather than any of the other freaks who are dueling for her.

Damn everyone in this show wants to beat up Anthy so bad! I mean, Utena doesn't but they're like girlwives so that's to be expected but everyone else loves smacking her around. I can understand why Utena's default response was to go protector mode, even though her attitude of wanting to protect Anthy and fight for her would be the thing that ultimately condemns them to inevitable tragedy.

Spoilers below the gifs!

The rest of this review is going to be messy. I'm not sorry.

At least one of the themes of Utena was unclear to me until after I had watched the movie.

I understood that the school represented adolescence in general and that escaping the school meant breaking free of that and becoming empowered with independence.

At the end of the series, Utena has a sword fight with the big bad, frees Anthy from her prison and presumably dies in the process. She had spent the whole series fighting for Anthy and trying to win her freedom, but the flaw in her thinking is that she never tries to help Anthy by empowering her. She destroys the power structures that were holding Anthy in place, but in the process she destroys herself, when what Anthy needed was for Utena to give her the strength she needed to leave on her own. Even after all the duels fought for her, Anthy doesn't have the courage to take that step by herself, and while Utena is fighting her evil brother, she stabs Utena, which might be the thing that ultimately kills her. Just like how Birdie Wing Season 2 stabbed me in the back after I gave season 1 a 10/10. Utena is dealing with a lot of her own shit this whole time too, which doesn't help her see through to the heart of the matter.

This is contrasted in the movie, Adolescence of Utena, which confused me initially because people had insisted that I watch it after the show and I assumed it might help me to understand more of the show, but it was mostly the opposite.

The movie is maybe an alternate universe, maybe a time loop. It's never elaborated on. The point is it's a retelling but a bunch of the parameters are changed. The relevant part here is that when Utena decides that she wants to help Anthy, instead of fighting her battles for her, she transforms into a car. Cars are used in Utena to represent the power of adulthood and the freedom it confers; the main villain of the series is almost always driving his car and uses it to manipulate and influence people. Utena turning into a car that Anthy can drive to escape the school was the exact thing she needed. From that point, Anthy becomes the protagonist of the film and is able to move forward herself. She is literally in the drivers seat, which is a kind of empowerment that Anthy in the series is never given. This is how I came to understand why Utena failed in the series.

I also liked that in the movie, Utena appears to go into it knowing she likes girls. In the series, there's a conversation towards the end where Juri is talking to Utena about her relationship with Anthy and Utena's response is to push back on the idea that she and Anthy have a romantic connection; she says that it's different from the way Juri feels about Shiori, that it's more "pure". In the movie, when Anthy is insisting that she's become Utena's wife after she wins a duel, Utena's response is that if they're going to have a relationship, they should move forward at a more natural pace. She doesn't deny that they could have a relationship, she just doesn't like that Anthy immediately shifts into wife mode the moment Utena wins a duel. But then they have a romantic dance and it's all good.

I haven't even talked about "all women are rose brides" and it's difficult to put into words how hard that hit me.

The imagery of Anthy in her rose bride outfit speared with a thousand swords holding her in place and the main villain talking about how actually, all women are just like that: items to be owned and preserved in adolescence without any power to choose or act for themselves. This show did so much.

And the Nanami development was unreal. The joke character who has an episode where she's despairing because she's convinced she laid an egg is the character who discovers that Anthy is being sexually abused by her brother. She's just had her own arc where she learns that her own older brother isn't blood related to her. He then comes onto her like, "this is what you wanted right?", and she rejects him. Nanami is repulsed by what she learns about Anthy and even more that Utena continues to live with Anthy while unaware. The way they grow her as a character is incredible. Thanks Nanami. Hit him with the 10 hit combo into command grab.

I could write another entire review just about Juri and her whole deal. Juri is the fencing club captain and she's crushing on the most toxic girl in the universe who's doing the whole Kaguya-sama bit where she thinks that if she tells Juri she likes her then she's losing at love, so instead she keeps getting into other relationships so that one day Juri might get jealous enough that she confesses first, but Juri just continues brooding and yearning. It's that toxic codependent yuri that everyone keeps talking about and this time I didn't even clock it when I watched the show, I need another lesbian to explain to me why people like Shiori. When I watched it, I just assumed she was a bitch! I was the Juri in the relationship, assuming Shiori was just an evil straight girl.

So yeah, everyone was right about Utena. It's one of the lesbian anime of all time. Ikuhara does it again. This guy really is my favourite director. This does mean I have some bias because I love all the things this guy does with his shows. I just need to watch Sarazanmai and I'll have seen them all.

Of course I'm giving this a 10; if not this then what are 10s even for? There's a lesbian sword fight in almost every episode. I'll be thinking about this show for the rest of my life. And I shouldn't need to remind you, but I cannot be killed. Zettai unmei mokushiroku.

Fuck, would it be too cringe to get that as a tattoo?

[erosauriarts]

Opinion on Sigchuu? (Sigma x chuuya) platonic of romantic headcanons go! 🫵

SIGCHUU HCS

I think it would be really cute, but it would need special care. They would be very disorderly at first. Sigma tends to let other's opinions sway his own. What he heard from Fyodor probably freaked him out. Dazai also tends to downplay everything, so Sigma does not have the same opinion after talking to him.

Chuuya first response is no longer violent, but when givens the opportunity to test his strength gets a little too excited. Sigma witnessed this and probably got slightly concerned on the tone shift. Chuuya is also bad at responding to emotions when frustrated. It would startle Sigma to see how Chuuya talks to his ex partner and gets slight whiplash at the dynamic of how Chuuya talks to other people. Although Chuuya has these switches, he was always nice and kind to Sigma. It mildly confuses him, but he tries to be polite back as much as he can.

They have a mutual connection, which is Dazai. They would interact on missions or accidentally in public. Chuuya sees Sigma staring him down, trying to figure him out. Chuuya's pretty smart with his words and tries to break the ice. He asks simple questions, Sigma answering honestly.

It's a very slow burn type of ship. Sigma needs a bit more to himself, and Chuuya would respect that. Dazai would tease the living shit out of them, and it gets worse when he reliezed there was more. That sparks a mutual agreement between Chuuya and Sigma to keep everything from this guy.

Chuuya would introduce Sigma into music. Deep lyrics are what Sigma looks for most. He ends up showing vulnerability to Chuuya in a song about finding where you belong. As a fellow music and lyric lover, Chuuya shows him how personal favorites are. These songs trigger conversations and expose their insecurities to each other. The gate to emotional bonding is opened.

Sigma is honest how he hates how people take advantage of him. Chuuya giving a honest, but vague recap of how he feels about that. They relate to each other on this. Chuuya gets empathically irritated with the conversation. They promised each other to call out when they notice people are picking on them. Also, they promised to try to find a way to weezle out of situations if they are being held hostage / blackmailed.

Chuuya travels a lot. Sigma would wait for him, setting up a personal surprise. Chuuya would see it coming the moment he got back, but seeing Sigma excited, he couldn't help but fall for the surprise.

They would confess while listening to music. Chuuya asked as if it was a "what if" kind of moment. Sigma responded to it with a positive attitude, saying yes and ending it with "but I don't want a what if"

It would be very cute to witness, Chuuya panicks from the sudden realization of how real this gets from time to time and starts floating away. Sigma doesn't know how to respond, and they yell in an admiration and in a flustered panick.

Chuuya would be obsessed with dressing Sigma. Sigma is very ethereal looking, so treating him like a doll is sort of expected. They would have that cute moment where Chuuya is fixing the outfit, and they would be staring eye to eye.

Chuuya would be romantic af, but Sigma doesn't know shit about romance. He tries his best, watching or reading romance to get a vague idea. Chuuya finds it cute he tries so hard. Chuuya lets him take over, but Sigma genuinely does something sweet, and Chuuya grows extremely flustered. They would lose track of the progress of the romance and end up trying to out flirt each other. This becomes its own type of romance between them, giving words of admiration in the mix.

[riddleredcoats]

I just finished my first playthrough of Veilguard and boy oh boy, do i have thoughts.

but, TLDR:

Bros, this game is so fucking strange.

It literally giving me everything I wanted; every theory for the past 10 years I've had to speculate is bang on, they bring niche characters in a way that makes sense, they give us nice romances, they give us cool combat, EPIC set pieces and then [gestures].

Anyway, this is more for posterity than any real, coherent thoughts.

The Good:

I don't know what sort of wizardry the devs at Bioware made for this game, but this game runs smooth AF. Actually insane in the year of our lord 2024 that a AAA viddy game manages to do it. Kudos must be given.

The art-style grows on you really fast, actually. And considering what happens in the game, especially in the back half, I think making it more stylised was necessary to also compliment the aforementioned point of it running smoothly.

There is in fact, a lot of dark themes in this game. I don't know what game some reviewers played, but to say its basically a clean version of a DA game is... just wrong. I have a theory, in the Bad section, about why they believe that is the case, but Veilguard is filled with Dark Themes.

The set pieces of this game are fucking insane. Like, there is no comparison to any other Bioware game. Even ME3 with its bombastic set pieces isn't a match to Veilguard in the prologue. The Siege at Weisshaupt? Gagged the whole way through. That last 2-4hrs of game were amazing and while I have beef with it - further down - for what it is and what it is trying to be? They succeeded. Some of the best viddy game I have ever viddy gamed, frankly.

The lore drops are also insane. I basically watched all of Solas regrets back to back to back and basically it was confirmation upon confirmation upon confirmation. I'm still in the high of the Solas/Mythal confirmation and that happened like 3 days ago, lmao. And if you know me, you know why - it goes wayyy beyond Solas and Mythal for me, personally.

Morrigan's place in the narrative. Keeping it vague, but just [gestures to all of it].

Issenya... Just... Issenya, man.

The companions. Yeah, they're all great, I don't think there's really a dud one. Sure, I connected more with some than others, but man- these companion quests are involved and meaningful and progress the story. You do get to know them very well. Harding, Neve, Davrin and Emmerich will always have a place in my heart for their questlines, even though I love all the other companions too - but those really resonated with me.

Combat. Holy shit, a DA game with a fun combat system. That's all really.

The Middling

The music. I don't love it but I don't hate it. I can count on one hand the amount of times the music made me feel something - basically the last scene of the Harding questline and when The Main Theme came in during the final quests. Trevor Morris reigns supreme; I teared up more for The Lost Elf theme return than any other musical moment in the game.

The pacing of this game is... baffling. I'm not sure if its my own fault for basically trying to do everything in the first act, but Act 1 took me like 40 hours, while the remaining two acts took me 20. Weird. Will need to experiment because it might absolutely be on me, but yeah.

The Bad

It's basically one thing but honestly, every time it was brough up it was like a dagger piercing my heart while my stomach was stepped on by a bronto.

The lack of geopolitical talk both past and present.

Much as been said from the infamous 3 choices that Veilguard imports - and I will say, that even those 3 are laughably implemented imo - but never is it more felt than in this aspect. The past straight up does not matter. Worse; they actively disregard it imo. There is no difference between world states, no world leader talk, no nothing. It is just... nothing. And listen, the specifics deserve their own post eventually, but im just processing shit still.

The game is really fun, and the themes and characters that are there and the lore is fantastic and when im locked in, I'm REALLY locked in, but then when I try to put it in the context of the past games, what I loved about it - the politics, the disagreements, the sheer brutal way that history and prejudice can just fuck up a country, Veilguard just... it feels hollow, without any bite or flavour.

And this is the crux of all the problems, really, in the present in Veilguard.

The way people talked about the dark tone being gone? Yeah, I can see it here considering that there is no distinction between Dalish and City Elves anymore basically. The discrimination against elves is just... gone, apparently? Which is insane - because we are in Tevinter and it's just... abandoned? The way Rivain is all cool and shit about Magic and Spirits with like zero nuance or, more imporantly, any real consequences when [gestures to the past games] - it just makes the South Really Dumb because of course they are now ig. The Crows - these assassins that bought children to train, in what amounted to a sponsored slavery ring - are now freedom fighters and all the nuance of the assassinations is gone? The Wardens are fine mostly, really, but they are suddenly very above board all of the sudden.

And that's the whole thing here.

They have tried to make everyone stay so above board, to make everyone The Perfect Ally That No One In The Real World Can Criticise, that it retroactively sucked all the nuance and Flavour For Thedas At Large out of the story. It made the story worse because everyone is just so gosh dang nice and A Super Ally when in past games the conflict, the flavour of the Whatever Big Struggle was that everyone hated each other and was constantly in-fighting. Which made it fun and interesting to play.

Okay, sorry i forgot I had another one:

the fuck is that ending credit scene? with the executors implying they have been behind everything since DAO? Oh man, Bioware you can't do those types of stories - you tried in ME3 and [gestures]. Why can't Loghain just be a dude traumatized by Orlais which led to All The Things in DAO? Why can't Bartrand just be a greedy bastard whose actions bring about DA2 and DAI and basically informs Varric's character from then on?

What the hell.

Anyway.

Yeah, initial Veilguard thoughts.

Oh yeah, and Neve is hot and I love her.

[minijenn]

UF Preview

Yeah so I started working on Magic and Mystery. Kind of keeping it as a mix of the old version of these chapters, with a completely new second half that I think ya'll will really enjoy. For now, enjoy the kids interacting with the Gems who are just ya know, early UF, shady af.

---

As the light faded, the Crystal Gems appeared, hot off the heels of another successful mission. Pearl and Amethyst shared a proud smirk, while Garnet stood between them, a bubbled gemstone hovering over her hand. Much like she’d done with the centipeedle a few days ago, she sent the bubble to somewhere unknown with a mere flick of her wrist. Just one of the many peculiar, impressive feats the Gems could apparently pull off. 

“Hi, guys!” Steven hopped up from the couch, running over to meet them. 

“Oh! Hello there, kids!” Pearl greeted. She offered the twins a polite wave as they followed after Steven, still amazed by what they’d just seen. “What are you both doing here?

“Oh, don’t tell me,” Amethyst chuckled. “You got tired of hanging around the shack with Stan, so you came up here to chill with us instead, right? Can’t say I blame you. The old guy can be a bit of a drag sometimes.”

“Um… well, we’re technically supposed to be working down at the shack right now…” Dipper admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. 

“But what Grunkle Stan doesn’t know won’t kill him!” Mabel chimed in much more cheerily. “Maybe. Probably. Hopefully. I mean, he is pretty old… Hm…”

“Ha! Skipping work to have fun instead? Turns out you two are cooler than I thought,” Amethyst elbowed both of the twins as she pushed her way past them toward the kitchen. “Which is crazy; I never thought anyone related to Stan could be “cool”.”

“I hate to say it, but I can’t help but agree with Amethyst…” Pearl interjected, a diffident frown on her face. “While I usually wouldn’t approve of anyone shirking away from their responsibilities, you kids are probably much better off spending your time up here instead of at that so-called ‘Mystery’ Shack.”

“Oh! Oh!” Mabel’s hand shot up into the air. “Do you guys have any real mysteries here?”

“A few,” Garnet said vaguely. 

“Oh yeah?” Dipper asked, instantly curious. Between lake monsters and manotaurs, he hadn’t gotten a chance to investigate the Gems as much as would have liked. And what better place to start than here, in the very temple they called home, getting answers straight from the source? “Mysteries like… whatever’s behind that door over there maybe?” 

He pointed to the large, elegant door that stood behind the warp pad, marked with a star and a gemstone resting on each of its points. “Oh, you mean the temple?” Amethyst asked, sticking her head back out of the fridge as she rooted through it. 

“The temple?” Dipper repeated, confused. “I thought we were in the temple.”

“Nah, this isn’t the temple,” Amethyst corrected. “This is just the house. It’s kinda like a lobby to the temple, actually.”

“Wait, so does that mean my room is part of the lobby?” Steven asked. “Maybe I should set up a welcome desk for when visitors come by, just like a real lobby!”

“Anyway…” Pearl continued. “The temple serves as our base. Garnet, Amethyst, and I live inside of it, while Steven has his own room out here. At least until he becomes more accustomed to using his Gem.”

“Yep!” Steven perched his hands on his hips, taking up a bold pose. “And when I do, I’ll be able to go in there any time I want, right?”

“Yes,” Garnet answered before Pearl could protest. 

“Wow! I bet there’s so many cool things in there!” Mabel exclaimed, excited. “Mind if we take a peek?”

 She attempted stepping past the Gems to get a better look, only for Garnet to step in the way to halt her advance. “That’s not a very good idea.”

“What? Why not?” Dipper asked. 

“Um… well, the temple… It’s a bit… dangerous,” Pearl explained, frowning awkwardly. “Especially for… non-Gems-” 

“Non-Gems, pfft, just say it like it is, P,” Amethyst cut in. “It’s waaaay too much for plain ol’ humans, like you guys!” She jumped in between the twins, ruffling their hair as she let out a laugh. In light of the circumstances, her “joke” wasn’t one that either Dipper or Mabel found very funny. 

“Amethyst!” Pearl scolded, appalled by her rudeness. “But yes… The temple really is no place for humans. We’re sorry, but we just don’t want to see either of you get hurt.”

“But don’t be so down about it!” Amethyst encouraged as soon as she noticed the frowns on both of the twins’ faces. “At least you guys can still hang out here with Steven.”

“Yeah!” Steven exclaimed, wrapping an arm around each of their shoulders. “And you guys are welcome here any time!”

“...Thanks, Steven,” Dipper returned with a half-hearted smile. Still, he couldn’t quite keep his sights off the temple door, longing to get even just a peek at whatever lay beyond it. At the secrets the Gems seemed so keen on keeping completely to themselves.

[fishyvamp]

I do my best to keep the readers as vague as possible, but I do have semi-set personalities for each that dictate the readers' actions and how they interact with the world. There is a decent variety of personalities, but everything else about them is vague. (I keep trying to write for survivors, but the killers are louder). So I'm just going to talk about them because they are doing the worming things and will be making reappearances.

Critter is calm, level-headed, and curious. They're not afraid of much, just easily flustered at times. They're very much words of affirmation and acts of service kind of lover. They kiss and love on every inch of The Hillbilly that he'll let them. They are attracted to Max Jr. and have been long before the Cowshed incident. The cowshed just helped them make the move. Critter is also a very private person. they're not ashamed that they're dating a killer they just don't share if they're not asked.

Bunny is skittish, but a horndog. He tries to keep it in check, but something about masks and not knowing who's behind it has him with more than a few wet dreams about masked killers. He has slept with Meg, and it involved her mask and a locker that may or may not have ended with the two of them getting hooked. Ghost Face takes full advantage of Bunny's libido, especially during the trial. Bunny is into it and finds himself satisfied even if he doesn't escape. He doesn't tell the other survivors he's fucking a killer and is ashamed that he's even considering dating Ghost Face.

Brat is well a brat. They are also unhinged AF. They have exactly zero chill when it comes to romance and have on more than one occasion brought flowers to trial just to flash them in front of Trapper while the others watch. they do not care if everyone knows they're dating Evan. they love the man. they want the entire realm to know that's their boyfriend. they follow the rules and play to win even against Trapper and get upset if Evan goes easy on them. Also, Brat is a cheerful bastard who loves dad jokes.

Copycat is a bit crazy, she's a killer whose whole shtick is mimicking other killers to draw out emotions. She thrives on the fear the survivors get not knowing how she's going to play next. She's also vicious when it comes to the trial. No mercy. She honestly thought The Legion was one dude who could shapeshift and would get angry that the entity didn't let her do that. it only clicked when she snuck into Ormond and saw Frank and Joey going at it. She wanted to be in the middle. She is very much the kinkiest of all the readers I've introduced so far.

[babydin]

Love in the Middle of a Firefight - PART TWO

The pregnancy is easy, despite the circumstances. The pregnancy was the easy part, Joel was supportive, he helped out, he ran around like a Retriever whenever you asked him to and Ellie asked a million questions every single day. But when the baby arrives Joel doesn't know if he remembers how to love something so fragile. - Joel Miller x f!reader - 18+, minors DNI! - (2/?) - Joel is dad, Joel is Daddy, paternal postnatal depression, pregnancy sex, oral. Not necessarily in this chapter, but for sure in this series!! Trauma references. Domesticated af. Angsty in places! - 1193 words - Comments/likes appreciated. Requests are open! - A/N: I didn't think too hard about the timeline, just vaguely after the events of S1, they go to Jackson to Tommy's place and live there and nothing bad happens. This will be in multiple parts but I haven't planned for how many! There will be time-jumps in each of the parts because I'm impatient™️

Ellie looked blankly between the two of you. She had that look like she was waiting for the punchline of one of Joel’s shitty dad jokes. 

PART ONE

“We’re home!”

    Joel and Ellie walked home from school every day. He always took her to school, and he always picked her up. Walking was just their thing. You had been anxiously waiting for Joel to announce their arrival because he had promised he wouldn’t say anything to her until you were all together, you wondered if he had kept up that bargain. “How was school?” You ask, watching Ellie hang up her jacket and then walk into the living room to flop onto the couch. “Some kid pushed another kid into a garbage can and a fight broke out.” Ellie explained, her lips pursing slightly and her brows raising. Joel frowned a little and you asked “Were you either of the kids in that story?” “I was not.”

You took Joel’s hand and sat down with him on the coffee table in front of the couch. “Babygirl,” he said, “we have somethin’ we need to tell you. Somethin’ important.” Ellie’s eyes darted between the two of you as she tried to figure out what was going on before either of you said anything, “I’m not leaving. Fuck off, Joel. I’m not going anywhere. I like it here, I have friends!”  Ellie had fallen into the habit of calling him Dad, unless she was furious with him then he was always Joel. 

Joel reached out with both his hands and took hers, looking at her in a way that almost forced her to keep eye contact with him, “We ain’t goin’ nowhere. We’re safe here, okay? We don’t leave.” He sits up a little and you look between the two of them, they are thick as thieves, they talk without words and there is so much that remains unspoken between them but they know. “Are you getting divorced?” Ellie asked, her chin dropping down into her chest and her eyes looking from you to Joel and back again rapidly. You open your mouth to correct her but decide against it. You and Joel weren’t married, not by any technicalities anyway; you talked about it once, it was always in passing, until one day you set a date with a priest and a chapel but the priest died and there wasn’t anyone else ordained to perform a wedding. That night Joel cooked chicken wings on a barbecue in the yard, you drank beer and sat and cuddled under the stars. You shared your vows, you exchanged rings that you had both made from scraps of metal from the junkyard. Joel had helped you with yours, he was so clever with tools, the ring he gave you was perfect and looked as if it could’ve come from a store; he scratched coordinates inside the band from the spot you had shared your first kiss - they could’ve been coordinates to a burnt out Wendy’s and you’d have been none the wiser, the thought was painfully romantic and you cried when he told you. Yours was a little jankier, but he didn’t mind that, he said it suited him. From that night on he always called you ‘the Missus’. You supposed in a broken world that was about as official as it was going to get. “How would you feel about bein’ a big sister?” Joel’s voice had softened slightly as he presented the question to Ellie. He didn’t know how she would react, she’d grown up in this pandemic, she navigated the world so much differently because of the situations she had been forced into and now they were safe in Jackson, Joel only wanted her to be a kid, catch up on the years she had missed. Ellie looked blankly between the two of you. She had that look like she was waiting for the punchline of one of Joel’s shitty dad jokes. “I’m pregnant.” the words leave your mouth so abruptly that it even catches you off guard, and it’s the first time you’ve said it out loud.  Suddenly it all feels real. The man you were playing house with by your side, the orphan you’d both somehow adopted as your own, in the middle of a war, your found family was about to grow by one more. Ellie giggled in her child-like way and fell back into the couch in a way that made Joel sit up defensively. “It’s difficult for me to believe that someone willingly reproduced with you.” Ellie teased. It’s clear that she thinks her leg is being pulled. “It was an accident, but you don’t need to be a dick about it.” You swatted Joel’s thigh, “Joel!” He turned to face you with an expression that was full of apologies “Obviously I didn’t mean it like that.” Ellie sat up again and leaned forward, her eyes narrowing a little as she looked at you with a calculated gaze, “Are you serious? Are you pregnant? For real?” Your eyes find hers, and your hands reach out to wrap around her own as you nod earnestly, hoping the message gets through. Joel reaches into the breast pocket of his shirt to show her the print out from the ultrasound, he points to the blip inside the hollows of your uterus and makes a sound that might’ve been him saying ‘there’ if he had opened his lips a little more. Ellie’s expression changes. You remember again that she’s experiencing a lot of things for the first time and this is the first ultrasound she’s seen, this is the first pregnancy she’s been this close to. “That’s a baby?” she asked, sounding utterly enchanted by it, unable to take her eyes off of it. “It’s so little.” “The nurse reckoned I’m about 7 weeks along,” you explain, “so in another 30 or so weeks it’ll be fully cooked.” “That’s a long time.” Ellie looked back at you, she sounded disappointed at the idea of having to wait so long to earn her role of big sister. “Trust me,” Joel added, “it’ll fly by.” Ellie’s eyes drifted back to the ultrasound, and Joel pushed it a little closer to her. She pulled her hands from yours and took the photo, bringing it up to her face for a closer inspection, “That’s so fuckin’ cool.” You and Joel both breathe out a sigh of relief in unison. That was all you had both wanted, Ellie’s approval. You were a family, and a team, you had to do everything together or it just didn’t work; you’d fought too hard to get to where you were. Joel put his hand on your thigh and his earlier promises that everything was going to be okay echoed in your mind. But then Ellie reminded you both of just how much of her education she had missed being in her situation and then traveling with Joel when she looked up from the photo and asked, “So when it is fully cooked, will the doctor have to cut it out of you?” Joel pulled a face and took a sharp inward breath as he patted your knee and pushed himself up off the coffee table, kissing your cheek on the way “That is all you, I am going to start dinner.”

[fluffykitty149]

GUYS GALS AND NON-BINARY PALS I WELCOME YOU TO ‘WHAT I HEADCANON TALIA WOULD WEAR AT HER WEDDING TO BRUCE’!

Disclaimer I am neither Chinese nor Jewish so if there are any Chinese/Jewish fans who want me to change something or correct me on anything feel free to do so! (Ngl gonna make some of it kinda vague since I’m hopping between websites on my phone)

This started as just what Talia would wear to the wedding since as per tradition for those who can afford it Arab brides can have three dresses. But after a bit I got frusterated when she should wear what and ultimately decided to do a chronological order of the wedding. (Not including the engagement party, dinner party, or anything else. Just the night before and forward.)

shoutout to @daminette-56 for being the reason I planned this and to @immortaldino for being the reason I remembered to do this!

The night before is universally a bath night for the bride and groom. Both go to a Hammam (bath house) to get cleaned up and scrubbed down making sure to use pomelo leaves along side their respective choices of scents.

They then get into red and gold pajamas and slippers and at the right hour, the hair ceremony can begin. They sit in front of a window as a relative of good fortune combs their hair four times with blessings. They struggled to find a relative of good fortune but thankfully Talia was able to reach out to relatives on her mom’s side to help out. They were confused at first but realizing her and her fiancé’s bad record with parents decided to help out. (Had to keep a tight lip about the league). Once the ceremony is done and the red yarn and leaves are tied on the bride, the separate families eat and while waiting for the candles and joss sticks to die out the henna ceremony can begin.

After the candle has burned out and they wrap their henna to go to sleep they go to bed and the groom keeps his ribbon and leaves in his pocket for good fortune.

It’s the morning of the day and Talia wakes up early af to get ready. Meanwhile Bruce wakes up and has to take on ‘groom challenges’ trials set for him such as quizzing on Talia (he nails it) food tolerance challenges (just barely passes the spicy test) and finally giving packets of money to Talia’s bridesmaids so he can enter the room where Talia is to find her shoes. Ras made this challenge especially hard since he wasn’t allowed to go all out on the challenges but Bruce being the world’s greatest detective figures it out which brings us to Talia’s first outfit.

And ofc the shoes

After the shoes are found and placed on Talia Bruce carries her over to the tea ceremony. A red tea set with a Double Happiness symbol is used for the tea ceremony, where black tea is sweetened with dried longans, lotus seeds, and red dates. The tea is poured and distributed to paternal parents first, then paternal relatives, then maternal parents to maternal relatives. Afterwards Ras and Alfred give red envelopes of either money or gold.

Bruce: Alfred I couldn’t possibly-

Alfred: Consider it as a future investment for the property damage your future child will inflict Master Bruce.

Bruce: Fair enough.

After the tea ceremony Talia changes and they head to the next area of the wedding. Here Talia dons a white dress and a traditional Arab wedding cloak.

Its here that the Ketubah is read and signed in front of a small audience afterwards Bruce takes off Talia’s cloak and replaces it with a veil for Bedeken. (Apologies if I used the term incorrectly 😅)

Then Bruce walks down the isle towards the chuppa with Alfred, his groomsmen including Clark, Kate, Dr. Elliot (prior to Hush), some relatives and coworkers, and oddly enough both two face and Harley Quinn with Dick as the begrudged flower boy. Then, Talia follows suite with Ras and her bridesmaids. Nyssa, Amla, her closets friends from studying in Cairo and her ballet years, Lois because of Clark, and oddly Selina. They had a mutual agreement that if Selina stole anything her hand would get chopped off and Selina wouldn’t so long as she was in the wedding. Talia figured she could use the extra security and had her as a bridesmaid. Ivy is also a bridesmaid since she and the Al Ghuls tend to plot to save the earth together. (Hence Harley wanting to join)

They exchange vows, have Talia circle Bruce three times, exchange rings, have the seven blessings performed, and then Talia pulls back the veil and Bruce breaks the glass with people cheering.

After that it’s Yichud around lunchtime. Talia and Bruce have a moment to themselves and share a meal in calming silence. They talk for a bit and cry at the fact that their mom/parents couldn’t see this ceremony. They then get their parents (AKA Alfred and Ras) so they can legalize the marriage.

After freshening up it’s time for the reception. Aka, PARTY TIME!!! And Talia’s outfit.

outfit

Shoes

Makeup

Zaffee is their offical entrance as husband and wife with a drummer group following them and you can hear the ladies zaghrouta. The party is officially in full swing and the dancing begins. Naturally Talia leads the dabke but Bruce is no slacker and has no trouble keeping up. How does his wife dance in heels he doesn’t know but deeply admires. It’s a fun night of celebration and dinner is a huge feast of a buffet with different foods from all over the world. At the end of the night (basically 1-3 am) Talia is back in her white dress they dance and it’s the final dance called Hora where Talia and Bruce are lifted in their chairs while holding a kerchief. Afterwards, they’re cutting the cake with a sword (as per Arab tradition). Talia puts back on the cape, and the Newlyweds say goodbye to guests as they drive away in a car wrapped with flowers and a procession follows them honking horns and playing music. They make it to the airport and say goodbye to close family and go off on their honeymoon where a marriage bed made by the fortunate relative is there waiting for them.

They crash and fall asleep immediately.

I’m tired have fun and good night.

here’s Talia’s wedding ring btw. Comes in two for practical reasons idk.

Here is Bruce’s btw

[charliejaneanders]

The novel I'm revising right now, I'm coming up with a very very detailed chronology of the characters lives from like 1994-2023. But the actual book will keep the dates vague AF so you could read it ten years from now and it hopefully won't feel dated.

I want it to be grounded in a time and place but also timeless.

It's a weird balancing act: with All the Birds in the Sky, I kept googling "when did YouTube start to exist" and the like, but also tried not to have anything that tied stuff too explicitly to a set of dates.

[fluffypotatey]

Don't think I ever explained it, but the reason I like SWK accidentally killing Mac so much isn't actually for the whumpy apologies, tho the confrontation of it in fics is always so delicious, but what has me going insane is actually the layers of their relationship breakdown. Like, you have these two immortal monkeys, they are perfectly designed by fate for each other's companionship. There is genuine care there, and it never dies. Never. They were just torn apart so tragically. Nobody fell to the dark side, there was no jealousy, no hatred. There was just every manifestation of grief and miscommunication. You could never get the right words out. You couldn't help what came out of your mouth in that moment, the bitterness you would have swallowed back in for just one more morning of peeling tangerines in the summer breeze, all the quiet ways to say 'I love you.' Their break-up was like shredding bamboo, the faults and woes, the insecurities and failings, and the hurtful words and the entrapment and all the ways you can't reach, and the loss of everything and the denial and oh, the time just wasn't right, it all boiled over, and speaking a language that can no longer be heard, and the shattering of unconditionality. They had their own flaws, that you never could have thought would tear them apart, but it did. And they had to go on their own journeys of self-growth, had their own people and places they were devoted to, they were the only ones for each other, but they were not only meant for that. And goodness, was it the wrong time. Wukong, trapped, the loss of freedom he fought for, to be the strongest so he could be free and happy, and everyone else too. Macky, constantly grappling with having to follow the sun-streaked trail Wukong blazes, even the moon unable to pause the day unless the sun chooses to set in its ambition to climb higher into the sky, never coming down. The accident of it all? Even if Swk never did, the "did you think all this time, that I could kill you just like that? like you meant nothing to me?" is going to be SUCH a good broken, grief-stricken line delivery from Wukong. But if not, then ooh, the exploration for those who have a similar anger they try to control, when they release emotions externally, and might accidentally break something, those moments don't define you, but how could you undo the damage, how do you make it normal when its not an object you broke, you hurt a friend, it was you, but it also wasn't you had it only been, what if what if what if- if only, and that's a very basic explanation, and even I can't get all the words down right, but its just a realistic thing, how it all fell apart, I think. that conversation has layers, even if I explain it poorly XD you could grab every tragic tumblr post about fading friendships, and love metaphors with sharing quiet spaces and fruit together, and it could be them. also the "came back wrong" trope potential with Macky, ooh. is it him. despite everything, are you still you, could you ever be. are you the same person killed long ago, is this for the best, or shall we both start over again? can you be recognized underneath it all, and is that tragic or a second chance.

god they have so many layers and one of the cool things about lmk keeping Macky’s death and the specifics of shadowpeach’s relationship vague is how much nuance and subtext is left in there. you can peel back layers upon layers and pain upon pain and bond upon bond and still find new info and interpretations and nuances and—

I know you’ve seen me gripe about not being given enough info, but i do really enjoy it when the story allows us to infer and think deeply about certain aspects of the story. I like it when a story isn’t 100% clear or honest to the audience because that leads you to look deeper. think deeper. and try to fathom all the clues brought to you

(but i gripe about it because i’m inpatient af and like having all the pieces right in front of me. there are so many threads and plot theories i have on my little conspiracy board that i don’t want to touch just yet because i feel like i need more pieces before making a confident analysis)

another thing is that both swk and Macky are unreliable when retelling their past. they have their biases and emotions that are tied to the memories. however, swk omits the truth more than outright lies while Macky cannot keep his emotions away from skewing the past. and then the clear truth comes out when it’s forced out from them (think Samadhi fire and scroll memories)

(then again, swk doesn’t really say much of his past and likes to keep it brief. out of the two he is the most honest in terms of he’s self reflective and understands that his past self has issues. is he completely honest about shit tho? no but we’re talking about shadowpeach)

and the cool thing is that “the love was still there” in the past and even when both were on opposite ends. both monkeys were falling into a darker path and while they had communication issues the love was still there. and even while they fought under the mountain and even when they probably fought during jttw, the love was still there

but neither had the tools to save each other and neither really knew how to stop each other from their doom and isn’t that such a beautiful thing to analyze and think about on the screen?