#oh i also noticed something i thought was really clever which is when he wants to transition from direct to reported speech

[thedreadvampy]

The museum near my mum's was hosting a Raymond Briggs retrospective and it wasn't until we went today that I realised the absolutely outsize influence Briggs quietly had on my development and sensibilities as an artist. I've never really thought to flag him as one of my Favourite Illustrators but I realised walking around the room that his comics work - reading stuff like Fungus The Bogeyman and Father Christmas as a kid, and When The Wind Blows as a teenager - really formed like the platonic ideal for me of what comics should be and do.

A short list of things I think I've unconsciously learnt from his work without thinking about it:

the amount of character you can wring out of framing and posing

the idea of stylised faces in a highly rendered world

using repetitive panels to create meaning

breaking the edges of panels and frames

energetic lettering

filling up the world your characters inhabit with lots of little details you find entertaining

trying to create worlds and people that feel like Real Things That Exist by drawing on the world around you even if what you're making is a fantasy

borrowing faces and places that fit

it's allowed to be very silly

Anyway it's honestly left me quite emotional looking at his work like this bc I didn't know! I didn't know how much he'd influenced me! and there's something about looking at the artwork with all his notes to self around the margins and relettered phrases and "change this bit"s. there's a spread from fungus the bogeyman where the margins have been repeatedly filled with carefully drawn bubble letters counting down how many thousands of words and hundreds of hours of lettering he still had left to do and I'm just like i see someone is losing his actual mind lettering. relatable.

There was also. one of the last spreads in Ethel and Ernest, and it shows him and his dad coming to the hospital to see his mother's corpse after she died. and everything else on the page is done in his usual repeatedly-photocopied-and-redrawn style and worked through, but the body of his mother is almost just a pencil sketch over loose watercolour. and it's like. looking at that you can really really feel how unbearably hard it was to draw that. and next to that they had the closing spread where Briggs is showing his wife his parents' house after they died, and so right next to this drawing that evidently hurt too much to work on too long, you can see how in-depth and thoughtfully he's drawn the house he grew up in, he's done it brick by brick and every bit of detail worked in like he doesn't want to stop working on it and be done with the house. and idk it left me insanely choked up.

[zillychu]

designs for a zine piece! enjoy some background story my illustration never needed under the read more (fair warning I did NOT edit this at all):

newbie mage apprentices Sam and Tucker who became friends bc they're kinda… the ones at the bottom of their class and struggle the most, for different reasons. they become besties over time and practice together!

except one night, something goes terribly wrong. they spent the last few nights preparing for a project, a bigger spell that needs an intricate circle with precise measurements to work. but when they try to activate it, well… 

oops. they summoned a demon.

which is, for one, extremely illegal. only certified demonologists are allowed to summon demons because they're so dangerous. anything less than a perfect binding circle and thoroughly researched info on the demon, including their true name, is even remotely safe.

but, weirdly enough… the demon seems just as surprised as they are. as Sam and Tuck frantically try to figure out how to dispel the demon, they realize–oh god, did their circle actually sufficiently bind the demon? it can't leave. they watch the demon tentatively poke it's claws into the air around the boundary, and watch it fizzle, retreating back with a strained hiss.

okay. okay, they can do this. without death looming over their heads, they can figure out how to send the demon back. it's cool, it's fine. except while they leaf through their books, they notice the demon watching them. it looks kind of… curious. timid. interested in what they're doing. it catches them noticing his staring, and it. apologizes? it seems flustered?

weird, okay. they keep looking, and the demon starts talking. at first, little comments to itself. mumbles that soon get just loud enough to hear. little “ooh, is that a telescope?" and “is that what fire looks like up here?" and “that must be for making charcoal…”

Sam is the one brave enough to be like "are all demons as chatty as you??” and the demon gets flustered again, apologizing. says he's just never been topside before, he's only read about humans in tomes. oh wow is that the moon outside? it really IS blue up here! is it always blue? what are you doing up? I thought humans slept at night?

Sam and Tuck can't help getting pulled in with the demon's genuine curiosity. they're wary though, since they know demons can be clever, conniving. there's a number of ways a demon can get the upper hand on a summoner who has them bound. if he gets their full names, gets them to smudge and break the circle… there could also be ways they aren't aware of. so they consider their words carefully, but engage in some chatter while they research.

it's almost morning by the time they find a way to send the demon back–but as they prepare the spell, the demon says WAIT WAIT and they stop, uncertain. the demon starts stammering out how this is weird but like… he really had fun tonight. he doesn't get to just hang out much, especially with anyone his age.

Tuck is like “how do you know our ages??" and the demon points out "oh, you said something about Paulie’s 18th birthday party, so I thought…” and they're both like oh shit we didn't even notice we did that?

“Paulina" Sam corrects in her dumbfounded stupor. 

“Right, Paulina!" the demon snaps his fingers, but quickly loses his confidence when Sam and Tuck continue to stare at him like they're not sure what's going on. he coughs and fidgets and says “um, well, I was just wondering, I guess… if you wanted to summon me another time, I wouldn't mind. you see those circles there? yeah, that's what summoned me. the candles helped too I think. oh, it doesn't need all those runes though, probably don't want to redraw all those.”

Sam and Tuck are practically gawking, but… for some reason, this demon looks so sincere. so much like them, awkward and lonely and genuinely curious.

it's a bad idea. a terrible one, even. the demon probably noticed they're newbies and not demonologists. it could be hoping they make an error in their circle, or mess up a candle, or reveal their names on accident. 

But, well. They're stupid. they're also eager for anything to help them in school, and too empathetic for their own good. they send the demon off with a yeah, no. they then think about it for a week, and end up summoning the demon against their better judgment.

the demon is shocked and so happy, they can't help but be a little endeared. they lay down some ground rules, take care to be as safe as possible… and soon, this demon that introduces himself as “Phantom" becomes a nightly visitor. they talk about their worlds, find out they share a lot of common interests, and help each other in their studies. which, hello, demons also study? bro are you serious??

they play games, laugh till their ribs hurt, and open up to each other on a far deeper level than anyone expected. over time, Phantom becomes a true friend.

Sam and Tuck quietly begin to lament the fact Phantom is stuck in that damn circle. they want to take him places, let him see the human world he seems so interested in. they want to paint his stupid claws and noogie him between his dumb horns and hug him.

but it's an astronomical risk. it's legal for a demonologist with a proper permit, but it's still considered a grave taboo to grant access to a demon outside a circle. there's just too much at risk. demons can be dangerous enough to lay waste to entire towns, take multiple teams of military-rank mages to take down.

they wouldn't risk it… if they hadn't snuck into the library’s restricted section and copy a page from a demonologist book that gives them good framework for a contract. they make some edits to it though, giving Phantom at least a little wiggle room to protect himself if need be. and allow him use of transformation magic so he can hide somehow. but they spend weeks making sure they have airtight wording to ensure Phantom can't cause anyone or anything any substantial harm. 

when they finally bring the contract to Phantom, he's stunned. he cries. nothing needs to be said, they all know the gravity of their proposal. even if they ask for proof of Phantom's trust in turn, first. they ask for his full name, so they can bind him. just temporarily. but in that moment, they'll have full control over him. they could instead tell Phantom to serve them, force him to obey their every order. even if it's just for a moment, giving them his full name with the proper circle and incantation, is putting his life in their hands. 

Phantom, with tears still in his eyes, smiles warmly and nods. with only a breath to steel himself, he gives them his full name. Daniel James Fenton.

magic sparks in the circle, and Sam and Tuck finish the incantation. ethereal chains sprout up to wrap around Phantom's arms and legs, which makes him jump–but the unwavering trust in his eyes makes the two humans choke up.

they release the binding. all that's left is to break the containment barrier in the circle, so Phantom can walk free.

“Uh, about that…” Phantom laughs sheepishly… then proceeds to step outside of the circle, merely wincing when the barrier zaps around him.

Sam and Tucker gawk. Phantom scratches his neck. “Y-yeah, so… your barrier circle was already broken that first night. It's, uh… right over there. You missed a spot.”

abject horror overcomes them because this entire time Phantom's been visiting, he could have broken out? EASILY?? THEY WOULD HAVE BEEN DEAD.

Tucker falls to his knees, but soon starts to laugh. it's kind of hysterical at first but slowly, he and Sam are genuinely laughing. they're so STUPID, and Phantom is the most un-demonlike demon they've ever HEARD of. Phantom is still flustered, stammering out apologies because he wasn't trying to deceive them or anything! he just didn't want to scare them! without a proper containment circle they technically couldn't send him back either, so he just… went back using his own magic each time they “dispelled" him. 

once they've calmed down, Phantom morphs his body into a human form–which shock Sam and Tuck, because uh, only elite demons are capable of that. they were expecting an animal, or straight up going invisible. Phantom laughs it off, says he just, spent a lot of time practicing bc he's so interested in the human world (not a lie, but). he proceeds to adopt the nickname Danny, and they all have FUN WONDERFUL SHENANIGANS

(and sometime in the near future, when faced with something truly threatening he needs to protect them from, Danny reveals that. well. their contract also had some holes in it. and he's had access to his full demon power this whole time. whoopsie! it's a good thing he genuinely loves them and doesn't want to hurt anyone, or their asses would be SO dead lol)

they're about as normal about his full demon form as you'd expect from me btw:

[on-leatheredwings]

Checkmate

Yandere! Tim Drake / (AFAB) Reader

> romantic, rated M > tw/cw: yandere-typical behaviors (obsession). M rating is for a boner. just some sexual tension. reader is mentioned as bisexual.

> summary: Intellectually, Tim falls fast. Romantically, he falls hard. Seems this time it's both. > a/n: i just wanted to post some tim practice, pls let me know if i did okay. I made him a bit of a fuckboy i guess but ngl i think tim’s just run through af 😭 > word count: 1268

Tim likes you. And knowing himself, soon, he’s going to really like you.

More than anticipated, too. He didn’t think he’d have much of an opinion at all on you, when you had first met on your first day, in your new position as his personal assistant.

Personal assistant. 

At the reveal, he exchanged a hard look with Bruce across the room. Tim Drake had not been slacking on the job. And sometimes he had the eye bags to prove it.

Tim hadn’t even said anything yet, when you chirped, “Think of it as delegation.”

You gave him a pleasant, albeit cheeky look – which he respected. If you had the qualifications and enough charm to impress the hiring manager, who was a notorious hardass in interviews, you were probably fine. Probably more than fine.

Either way, he expected to forget your existence until you texted or called him to remind him about meetings he hadn’t forgotten about.

It turns out, you had… personality. Probably more than you should’ve, working in the professional setting of Wayne Enterprises. You dealt with Tim’s shit (absences, excuses), but gave as good as you got (ultimatums, thinly-veiled blackmail to run and tell Bruce). You were also… very attractive. And clever. And smart. And insightful.

And God, he wonders if you have a boyfriend. Or girlfriend. Partner. And he wonders if he can somehow orchestrate a breakup. 

Tim moves a chess piece across the board. 

Okay, maybe he’s being too hasty. 

Oh, for the love of– you know what? No, he isn’t being too hasty. Anyone working in such close quarters with the heir apparent of Wayne Enterprises is heavily vetted. But it’s about time he did his own background check on you. He has made it three whole months without doing so. 

See, he really is getting over his control issues. Eat that, Stephanie.

Okay, if he’s going to entertain the idea of courting you– Wait, wait, since when was it courting? Yeah, no. He’s merely entertaining the thought of you. He’s been burned too many times now to start courting.

Let’s talk about having sex first before we start talking about dating, he jests with himself.

Anyway. He wonders what would be the most interesting means of going about this. Coming out and confessing would be a little boring. Too easy. His eyes wander to your lips. You’re too focused on making your next move to notice him ogling the soft swell of your chest beneath a sharp button-up. You’ve rolled up the sleeves – very casual for this very casual hangout. You both lounge on your bed, in your bedroom, in your apartment, because if Tim wins, you don’t get to hound him on personally contacting investors. (Sometimes, you gotta leave malcontents out to dry. Make them miss you.)

He hopes you like being experimented with. Or maybe you like experimenting on others. He would do anything you liked because, man, it’s thrilling to know people and their wants. Anything you give, he could take it–

Tim startles as a realization comes to his mind. 

… Him. Taking it.

Is that something he wants? To bottom for you? … Is that something… he wants? 

Yes.

Now that the idea has been conceived, yes, he wants that. So that’s that. 

The reality of whether you’d want to do that… is slim… maybe? You’re bi as well. Maybe that changes things. He’s not going to think about it too hard, because now he’s getting excited.

Tim would love for the skittering, synapses-firing-on-all-cylinders effect in his brain to cool down – for everything to wash over with cool calculation and academic interest. He manages to do that much for even the most intriguing cases. But you… Tim sighs.

And now he’s hard.

Tim shifts uncomfortably. He’s lying on his stomach, held up by his forearms. 

He sighs, even though there’s an evil piece of his brain snickering and taunting, “But you love this, though!” Evil, evil.

At Tim’s increasing silence, you lift a brow. Man, he’s been out of it all game.

“Tim?” He comes back to planet Earth. “It’s your move. Again.” You wear a Cheshire grin. “It’s almost like we’re taking turns, or something.”

He blinks, baby blue eyes clearing up. He shifts in his spot, feeling trills of pleasure from friction against erection. Your sheets. Against his erection. He bites back a smile. Okay, yes, he loves this. He likes hiding like this, right under your nose.

Him getting a boner was a development he had foreseen coming ten minutes ago, once he started daydreaming about you. So he just went ahead and casually switched positions. A risk, but a calculated one. He was pretty sure there’d be no reason for him to get up and expose the tent in his jeans. And boy does he love it when he’s right.

Tim goes to move another piece, when he glances up at you and nearly goes slack-jawed. You don’t meet his eyes. Instead, you wet your lips, seemingly meditating on something.

You meditate on him. After all, Tim is so… pretty. Pretty in a way unlike the rest of his gorgeous brothers. He has pretty eyes framed by dark lashes and a smaller frame, though he’s deceptively muscled under the clean-cut slacks and button ups. He has silky black hair that often falls into his eyes; a defined jaw. And pale skin. He is notably the palest in his family, burning miserably on beach days. It is that pale skin, contrasted so sharply with his dark green tee, that brings your eyes to his collarbones.

Tim nearly erupts.

Fuck, yes. He caught you staring. It takes him self-restraint not to puff out his chest or try to show more skin, lest he reveal his hard-on.

You snap out of it only moments after he notices, grin returning to your face.

“You know if you lose focus like that, I’m going to win,” you tease, almost childlike mischief in your expression. 

Tim so badly wants to parrot the words back at you, but he doesn’t want to scare you into never checking him out ever again. The little inch you just gave him– oh, he intends to take a mile. Whatever small acquiesces you give in the future, he knows he’ll take that and much more.

Now, he’s hungry for you. As soon as this game is done, he’s going to create a new case study file, just for you. He could start kicking his feet at the thought, he's that excited. He’s excited! 

He’ll put the pedestrian, basic stuff like your height, weight, alma mater, major, past jobs and experiences. Somehow get into your social media that’s all on private mode to see what you’re always laughing at on that damn phone. He’s also going to bring up your phone records, go through your email, go through your physical mail. Oh, fuck, surveillance. He’s already in your room, too, luckily. If only he had more of his bugs on hand… The ones he always keeps in his belt buckle will do for now. Also, Tim needs to think of some way to acquire your breast, waist, and hip size – he has a good idea of those measurements, but he wants to know. When is the next time you’ll be out of the house and not at work, he wonders–

“Tim,” you whine, impatient. The sound is music to his ears.

Tim’s eyes rise from the board to your pouting face, and he smiles apologetically. Suddenly, your face dawns with disbelief and indignance.

Tim swiftly picks up one last piece and knocks one yours over.

“Checkmate.”

[coloursflyaway]

i'm finally going through the comments on heaven to no one else but me (i'm so sorry for the delay, btw, but i was gone over the weekend and you guys were SO sweet that i wanted to take the time to reread everything and make sure i'd respond properly) and i just had A Thought.

i've been putting charles through the ringer lately, which i love doing, because that boy suffers so prettily. but how about a fic in which through magical hijinks charles loses his memory, and edwin is the one left behind?

and charles is like he always is, which is bright and happy and clever and wonderful, and he takes to edwin like he did last time ("so we're best friends? that's pretty cool, i never thought i'd get a best friend this clever! how do you put up with me?") and he's the same, but also, he's not.

because all the time they had together changed charles, just like they changed edwin, and there is something impossibly nostalgic about seeing charles like this, like a snapshot of thirty years ago, but at the same time, it's the most painful experience of edwin's life, because charles has forgotten everything about what made them them.

the synergy isn't there anymore, the ease they usually move with together, the references to older cases and the inside jokes they have.

one time, edwin holds out his hand on instinct; charles asks, "huh? what do you need?" instead of putting their magic screwdriver into it.

edwin doesn't do it a second time.

and there is a beauty, maybe, in watching charles get to know him again, but god, it breaks edwin's heart every second of the way.

and they go through remedy after remedy and nothing works, and edwin has to face the possibility that he might still have a best friend, but he'll never get His Best Friend back, and it's not enough to destroy him, because charles is still there, but god, it is close.

(charles, at the same time, is baffled by everything edwin knows about him and how close they must have been and is this really everything, is edwin keeping something from him? did they - he can hardly think it, because surely it can't be true, this doesn't happen to him, he's not worth of this happening to him - kiss? is this why edwin looks at him so dejectedly when he thinks charles doesn't notice?)

and charles keeps asking questions, like he is trying to figure something out, until one day, he kisses edwin. straight on the lips, a hint of a question in the curve of his mouth, and edwin is both overwhelmed and devastated, because this is what he had been hoping for before charles had lost his memory, and yet he cannot enjoy it now, because it's not His Charles; and yet he cannot pull away, because it is Still Charles and edwin loves him in any way he can.

it feels like cheating somehow, but what if he'll never get charles back, what if this is all that is left of their friendship now?

so he kisses back anyway, and when charles smiles against his lips, edwin thinks maybe, just maybe, it could be okay.

only that a few days, or maybe a few weeks later, something happens and charles suddenly looks at him and he's Back, edwin can see it in his eyes, and -

-and how can he explain this to charles now, that he let himself be kissed by charles when he was not himself, how can he look charles in the eyes when he knows that he has taken advantage of him like this, has he gotten his best friend back now only to lose him again because he couldn't control himself around charles and-

-and charles smiles at him, says, "hi. good to be back. i missed you."

and he takes edwin's hand, who still cannot speak, cannot think, and presses a kiss to the back of it.

"guess i just had to start all over again to realise i could absolutely fall in love with you, huh?" he says, and he looks at edwin like he used to a week ago, like he used to a decade ago, and edwin is crying before he knows it, fingers curling around charles' to hold onto him.

"did you?", he asks, and charles just laughs, sweet and happy and safe.

"oh absolutely. although i think i might have started thirty-odd years ago."

[pygmi-cygni]

clever boy - MK x GN!reader

reader gender is not described could be literally anything. inspired by this post that made me giggle for ten minutes

sfw, no risky content, just silly cuteness. jake isn't mentioned sorry lockley stans but maybe I'll do another version w him <3

Steven and Marc, Marc and Steven. The two of them, peas in a pod. Keeping each other company in Steven's tiny flat.

Until, you.

You'd caught both their eyes, really, but Steven called dibs because he was fronting when you'd met. Though, Marc argued, he was feeding the poor guy lines because he was blushing so hard he couldn't think straight.

From the first day, Steven wanted to jump the gun and tell you how pretty you were and invite you over forever and gush and gush but no. Marc was patient, reminding him to breathe, to take his time. They were in this together, and he didn't want his hope for your affection to be crushed by his headmate's eagerness.

So Steven sat back, hands wringing his sleeves and a stupid smile smarting his cheeks. You thought he was the sweetest thing you'd ever seen. His sass made you keel over laughing, listening to his funny recounts of ignorant customers or mishaps on the bus.

He was sweet and pretty and so, so clever.

Which is what first planted the seed of doubt that he didn't like you the way you liked him. Steven, as much as he stuttered, was sharp as a tack. He loved puzzles and trivia and escape room games (though the real thing made his hair stand on end). You thought for sure he'd sniff you out in an instant; your growing crush wasn't discreet.

But he never mentioned it, never made a move, nothing. Marc, whom you'd met a few weeks later, was also very smart. He liked deeper conversations, and his warm gaze would be intensely focused on whatever subject you'd picked. Surely, if Steven missed your hints, Marc would give him a wink and a nudge and bam, game on.

Still, nothing but platonic smiles.

Little did you know, a tug of war was raging in your friend's mind the second you left his flat.

The three of you shared a wall, so Marc ensured his whisper-fights with Steven stayed quiet.

"Too soon," Marc hissed into the kitchen mirror. It was small and round, and you had left a little sticky note with a smiley face on it for them to see in the morning.

Steven was tearing his hair out in the small frame, eyes round and watery. Mate, I've never had this much courage to do anything in my life, you know that, please, it can't be that bad!

Marc gritted his teeth. Naive little Steven.

"What if you scare them off, huh? We've known them for a month and you think they'll jump in just like that?"

Steven paused his worrying, realizing for the first time the kind of fallout that might occur. His cow eyes saddened, imagining the empty space that would replace you, if you didn't reciprocate. He couldn't live with that.

"Just a bit longer," Marc sighed, rubbing his face. He needed to sleep. Steven continued to fume, for once at odds with his best friend.

You'd noticed his distance. Steven, always happy to see you, had withdrawn. He waved quietly in the morning, and mumbled a good night when you passed his door. It stung. Marc was stoic as ever, but his jaw was tighter and he didn't look you in the eye.

Something was wrong.

So, like any good friend would, you picked up takeout and a few movies and knocked on Steven's door.

It took a few moments, but your favorite mop of curls soon peeked out from behind the frame.

"Oh, erm, uh, heya, sorry, did we plan something? I, um," Steven still didn't look you in the eye, fumbling with the latch as he stuttered through an apology. You stepped forward and touched his shoulder.

Smiling what you hoped was gently, you eased his worry. "I just wanted to say hi. I brought snacks," you said, holding up the warm bag of food.

Still nervous, Steven nodded and beckoned you inside.

Bollocks, he griped. Marc was having a conniption, trying to come up with a reason to push you back out. It's raining, Steven pleaded, and we haven't hung out for ages and Thai smells really good and they've got that cute sweater on-

That's the problem, Marc tossed back, you'll trip all over yourself like a fool. Lemme front-

Steven had to bite his lip to stop from yelling his dissent. He'd been pestering Marc to invite you over for days, now was his chance.

You were dividing the curry and rice into equal portions while he poked through the movies and games you'd brought. There were a couple of his favorites, Clue, James Bond (The originals, of course) and some he didn't recognize.

"Hey, what's this?" He grabbed a small box and peered at it. You paused your chopsticks and leaned over.

"Oh," you said around a mouthful of rice, "I dunno, Rachel from work recommended it." You picked at your food as he flipped it over to read the back.

20 Questions, it was titled. Forty different cards, each with a subject. One person had the subject and the other had to guess what it was in twenty questions or less. Only three hints allowed and nothing made-up.

"Let's do it," Steven decided. He enjoyed a challenge and if it meant he could hear your lovely voice, he wasn't complaining. Marc had fallen silent, taking to brooding in the background. Probably for the best - he wasn't very good at puzzles.

You wiped your hands on a napkin and took the first card.

"A classic movie," you read. Steven rocked on his heels for a moment, fiddling with his plate.

"Got it," he said.

You knew what to start with. Steven loved classic movies, but none of the scary ones. Probably something historical.

"Does it take place in the last fifty years?"

He nodded, chewing. One.

"Does it have a female protagonist?" Two.

He shook his head gleefully. That familiar Steven sparkle was back, and it eased the worry in your head. He wasn't so off, then. Maybe just a bad week.

"Does the man have a whip?" You were grinning, sure you'd got it. Steven's lips twitched - he knew he'd been found out.

It took only two more questions for you to guess Indiana Jones, to his shock. You blamed it on luck rather than the adorable predictability of your friend.

Steven's turn next, and it took him halfway to guess "Fondue" at Favorite food. You went back and forth, giggling at each other on the floor of his rainy flat. Steven protested when you argued that he couldn't use himself for Favorite Superhero.

"I am a hero," he wheedled, gesturing to the Moon Knight stuffie you'd got him as a joke.

"Yeah, but you can't guess yourself," you argued. Nowhere in the rules did it say that, but it felt good to have your bickering sessions. You'd missed this - bantering over stupid issues with tummies full of food and a fun game to play.

Steven blushed when you mentioned it. "Sorry," he mumbled, scratching the back of his neck. "I got busy, 'n Marc was being pissy 'cause - yeah you were, don't be a knob," he muttered to himself. Your grin twitched at the mention of your other friend.

"How is Marc?"

He swallowed thickly. "Uhm...he's, uh, he's swell. Hang on, sorry-" There was a pause as he flickered between scowling and mumbling.

You ignored his stuttering and resumed eating. He needed space at the moment; Marc was probably arguing over something. You didn't want to make them uncomfortable.

"Sorry," Steven said sheepishly. "My turn, yeah?"

Setting down your empty plate, you nodded. Flipping a card, you saw alarm flash across his face. You laughed nervously.

"What?"

He swallowed and smiled nervously. "Nothing, nothing. Ah, I guess, we can skip it if you want...?"

You snatched the card and froze. Longtime Crush.

Fuck. Stay calm, this will be fine. A door of opportunity glowed in your mind, and you smiled.

"No. Let's do it."

Steven, still wary, nodded and tried to push away the intense shame inside. This was going to crush him. He could feel Marc's annoyance through the barrier. Told you so. Not wanting to ruin your game, he soldiered on.

"Is...are they...a man?" You nodded, eyes glittering. God this was worse than torture.

"Have you known him very long?"

You thought about it. "Yeah, I guess. Feels like forever." Great, you'd had a childhood crush all along. He never stood a chance. Marc was burying his head in his hands. Steven wanted to push him to the front so he could have a good cry, but he needed to face it. His fault you were here anyway.

"Do you see him at work?"

"N....Sometimes," you added. He scrunched his nose.

"Whaddya mean sometimes? Either you do or you-"

"Next question," you laughed. Steven wracked his brain.

"Oh, bugger, uh...." he didn't want to pry, but he couldn't think of anything.

"Need a hint?" You were on the verge of cackling. Grumpily, he shook his head.

"Does he live nearby?"

"Definitely."

He pursed his lips, thinking of your small social circle. Your work was a tiny office, there had to be a few guys that he knew.

"Does...Is he friends with our friends?"

You nodded. "He's very close."

He had to be missing something. "Fine, gimme a hint."

"Well," you began, smile stretching to the moon, "he's very clever. He'd like this game, I think. He likes to laugh, but he can be quite serious too." Ignoring the fact that you'd given him two hints, Steven's heart wilted as he noticed the starry look in your eyes. Whoever this guy was, he was a lucky chap.

Marc was miserable, gloominess radiating. Steven felt awful, he hadn't meant for this to go so poorly. Just get through the questions, Marc grumbled.

"Where does he work?"

You tapped your chin. "Well...he's got two jobs."

His eyebrows raised. "Busy fella, huh?"

"Yeah." Your lips quirked. "Almost seems like he's two people."

"What's his jobs, then?"

"Let's see...it's very unconventional," you said slowly, a cute smile on your face, "Sorta self-employed."

Steven cocked his head at the confusing answer. Self employed? That's not really a second job. Marc shrugged. We're kinda self employed, so it could be.

It was strange how many similarities he found between himself and this mystery man.

"I'll give you a hint," you said after the moment dragged. Steven vehemently shook his head.

"No, I've got it, swear."

You giggled. "it won't count, promise. He's got a pet fish."

Steven threw up his hands in exasperation. "How've I never met this man?! We sound almost identical, I'm sure I'd remember him!"

You were bent over laughing now. He sat there, bewildered, while Marc watched with growing understanding.

Steven, he hissed. Steven, hang on.

Stop being a spoilsport, I know you're mad, Steven retorted, too invested in the game.

"Marc's met him," you said between fits, tears streaking your cheeks. Marc opened his mouth again but Steven waved him away.

"Nuh uh, I can do this," he said determinedly. STEVEN! Marc was shouting now, thumping his hands in vain.

You'd stopped laughing, grinning like a loon while you waited. He'd get it now, surely, you hoped, the fading laughter revealing your anxiety.

Steven had short-circuited, eyes flicking around like a pinball machine.

"You're clever," you murmured, "you'll get it."

He snapped out of it and raked a hand through his messy curls. "Hang on, hang on, what? This doesn't- how can he be friends with our friends when the only man friend you've got is me?" He was genuinely perplexed, triggering a sympathetic smile from you.

Marc was in fits now, and Steven was getting a headache. Oi, Marc, chill out a bit, yeah? I'm trying to-

Steven for once in your life listen this is important oh my God-

"What?" he relented, mouthing sorry at you. Marc heaved a breath and closed his eyes.

You. Us. Steven, it's so obvious.

Steven rolled his eyes. "Me? You've lost it, mate, really, you've gone mad."

He froze, clapping a hand over his mouth. "Oh my days, sorry, I didn't mean to guess so soon, sorry-"

You did nothing but grin, leaning closer. "Clever boy," you whispered, then pressed your lips to his.

Marc fainted.

Steven, sweet man, had frozen, too preoccupied with his internal screaming do understand what was happening.

Oh.

oh.

His hands found their way to your cheeks and he giggled, the sweet sound muffled against your lips. It was clunky and off-centered, but it was real and he was laughing and every insecurity he'd ever had vanished in a puff of smoke.

You pulled back for a breath, but Steven hadn't finished, chasing after you with a huff. Marc, finally back online, was sitting in a lovesick stupor. Your lips were soft and your hands were rubbing soothingly down his back. A quiet solitude had blanketed the flat, now dark. Steven leaned his head on your shoulder and you hugged him tight, smiling into his neck. The two of you breathed together, winding down from the excitement of your game.

Once you'd sufficiently relaxed, you pulled away and were met with Marc's twinkling gaze.

"Y'know, I was the one that gave Steven the head's up, so I think I-"

"C'mere you," You huffed, peppering his cheeks in light pecks. He preened, taking a heavy sigh of relief. Marc leaned in and captured your lips, licking gently into your mouth. He'd definitely had more practice, and your heart sang with joy.

Game over, plates empty and hearts full, you curled up and watched the rain pitter-patter in the warm comfort of your home.

yes i think steven loves james bond. he is the type to try and figure out the mystery along with the movie. also 100% knows all cinema trivia Ever To Exist. Marc hates it.

xox thank uuuu

part 2

[voltronisanobsession]

So you like my ideas, huh? Well, I hope I can continue to create some good ones for you! I shall try my best 🫡

Oh! I do have one request in mind, how about Percy being paired with reader who’s the child of Athena? Yes, yes, I know an amazing half-blood known as Annabeth exists but I had something in mind.

We all know how children of Athena are seen as wise, intellectual, clever, and combative people but what if the reader was different than that? There’s several types of intelligence after all, so what if they specialized in emotional intelligence and craft?

I can see them being insecure of their “abilities” since they know their siblings can do better, and even fear that Athena herself is disappointed in them, but, while Percy thought it was strange at first, he soon found himself enjoying those traits.

I mean, with their emotional intelligence, the reader knows when he’s upset no matter how hard he tries to hide it, and they tend to give him gifts like Melinoe!reader. They’re probably usually architectural models, weavings, mini sculptures of what he enjoys… You know all that good stuff. They probably gifted him something as something to remember them by when he went on a quest… but I’ll leave that up to you.

Combat practice to bond/as dates 👀?

Also, I’m not sure if you saw, but I like long headcanons so stop apologizing and keep it up!/lh

Poor all of your thoughts into it if you have to or want, I like it!

Percy with a Child of Athena!Reader

I literally LOVE these detailed asks UGGHHH!! I love the idea of instead having a different form of intelligence as a child of athena like damn😍 I'm getting used to brain dumping on these, its a work in progress🙈

Sorry for answering so late😭

Lowkey this reader sticks out like a sore thumb amongst their siblings😭

I like to think that most Athena kids are usually on the more serious sides, so it surprises a lot of campers outside of the Athena cabin to see Reader extremely expressive!

While the other Athena children spend their time devising tactical plans for big camp games, reader is just on the side doodling architectural designs and whatnot

They aren’t as involved in what their siblings do because it doesn’t interest them much

Like whenever they try and ask for readers opinions and start using big ass words, they just smile and nod cuz they had no idea what the others were saying

Athena's children are extremely intelligent so its difficult for reader to be on the same wave length as their siblings

It lowkey makes them feel like an outcast in their cabin because they cant really connect with their siblings like they do with each other while they talk about subjects beyond reader’s comprehension

Constantly being surrounded by books, scrolls and maps full of knowledge, reader often beats themselves over not being able to comprehend and show interest in wanting to learn about these types of things

They’re led to believing that they are a defect amongst their mothers children (crying)

They are always surrounded by reminders of their own inabilities to match their sibling’s intelligence which is why they spend little time in the Athena cabin, and even littler time with their siblings

Readers only saving grace is that they are always in tune with peoples emotions and feelings, no matter how well or little they know the people around them

Whether its feelings of anxiousness, sadness, quiet anger, or happiness, reader always seems to know how a person is feeling!

The first time Percy meets reader is when he spots them at the crafting hut

Being one of his first activities in the beginning of the day, he notices how reader is always there before anyone else

Percy probably thought you were apart of the Hephaestus cabin or something like that with how many times he’s seen you sculpting and carving away at a new project every other day

So he’s surprised when you reveal that you’re actually a child of Athena

He would definitely notice how you distance yourself from your siblings, especially during breakfast, lunch and dinner

He’s good friends with Annabeth so he sees the differences between you, her and your siblings

While she and her siblings are more closed off and have their noses stuck up a new book everyday, your always seen drawing or weaving a new tapestry for your cabin

You show your emotions more openly compared to their more dismissive nature as well!

He definitely sees you as the 'social butterfly' of the Athena cabin

The more time he spends with reader though, he notices just how in tune they are with his feelings

He could give the smallest, most insignificant indication that he's had a bad day and you'd be able to read him like an open book

It's easy talking to you about his conflicting emotions, your patience and thoughtful expression gives him more confidence to just let everything out

I think he would definitely fall for how empathetic you are in many situations

You've made many friends with campers from different cabins because of this quality trait! Always learning and understanding a situation/conflict that arises, you're always able to resolve the problems that makes it fair for all parties involved

Despite this, Percy is confused and a bit surprised to find out that you're actually insecure about this dominating trait of yours

"What?! It's literally the best thing about you though!"

"I know but its just! My siblings aren't the way I am. They're able to actually use their skills for something. All I can do is listen to people and make friends. That's nothing special. I'm useless."

It PAINS him to hear you say that because its obvious you don't understand the importance of being as emotionally intelligent as you are

He makes it his mission to show you just how many people you've helped, to show you that you have a reason to be proud of what you're able to do!

You slowly open yourself more after hearing all his reassurance, from him and other people around camp

It's definitely a positive change as you have a pep to your step now. You engage with you siblings more now that you have a confidence in your own abilities.

You make him many sculptures as thank you gifts! Even when he says that you don't need to, you cant help admit that enjoy giving him these gifts with a nervous smile

You've made him a mini version Riptide and even have given him a small owl pendant

You were hesitant to give him the pendant because it seemed more intimate compared to your other gifts, but he happily accepted it with a soft smile

AND WHEN HE PUT THE PENDANT ON IN FRONT OF YOU YOUR HEART NEARLY LEPT OUT OF YOUR CHEST I CCANNTTT

I think reader would be pretty aware of Percy's feelings for them which makes them feel fuzzy

So imagine how you feel when Percy pulls up to you one late afternoon after not seeing him for the entire day to give you a small pendant of his own

The sculpting of the trident is definitely more crude and less detailed compared to the one you gave him, something Percy abashedly admits but you wave him off

"It's beautiful, thank you Percy."

"No problem, now we're matching!"

You're aware of your own feelings for him as you are aware of his feelings for you, so it doesn't take long for a confession to happen

I mean matching pendants? come on bro its so painfully obvious to everyone

Percy falls for who reader is, not because their a child of Athena

He doesn't care that you're different from your siblings because he understands everyone has their own strengths and weaknesses

You still represent Athena with pride and he'll happily support you till the end

PERCY IS SUCH A GREEN FLAG IN GENERAL I LOVE WRITING FOR HIM💔💔

[daylite-writes]

Ayo ayo!!! I got an angsty idea for ya!!

Imagine this:

The harbingers find out that the reader has a plot to kill them/the Tsaritsa. How does this go? How do they react?

And for even more angst;

Imagine if they were successful

(Songbird anon- New anon)

OKAY OKAY OKAY I LIKE THIS (also hi ur my first named anon!). I won’t be doing “if you succeed in killing them”, since they’re dead and therefore won’t have a reaction lmao. I also won’t be doing every Harbinger here because that’s so many words omg. Probably will have multiple parts if ppl are interested.

Wasn’t sure if the ask was meant to be yandere, but this kinda is lmao. To varying degrees for each. Didn’t go too hard on angst but oh well

HARBINGERS REACT TO READER ATTEMPTING TO KILL THEM OR TSARITSA—AND IF YOU SUCCEED? (Pt 1, ft. Childe, Dottore, Arlecchino, Scaramouche)

cw: yandere, violence, referenced death, implied kidnapping, death of reader (in Arlecchino’s), etc.

Childe - mixed results

If you attempt to kill him? Oh baby. He lives for this shit. If you are strong enough to even get close? Well, his heavy panting, wide eyes, and red cheeks convey his feelings easily. If he wins the interaction, overpowering you and forcing you to the ground, he won’t kill you. He’ll probably let you up, let you try again—come onnn. Don’t tell him you can’t continue. You wanted this, baby. Try again. If you escape unscaved, then by god he’ll be thinking about this for weeks. Blushing, refusing to wrap the scars you give him.

If you attempt to kill the Tsaritsa, Child takes it very, very badly. One thing people forget about this man is he is not loyal to the harbingers, but he is extremely loyal to the Tsaritsa. Sentient abyssal creatures tend to latch onto an idea, a “purpose” of sorts that they will hinge their entire sanity on. Without her guidance he is nothing. He will fight tooth and bone to squash any attempts you make on her life. He takes on his Foul Legacy form to fight you, and in his anger, would end up either maiming or ending you. If you survive, he will make sure it never happens again (Read: mangling you). You just had to ruin a good thing, huh baby?

Succeed in killing the Tsaritsa? He’s either killing you, or dying trying. There is no way you’d both survive.

Dottore - Takes it pretty well

Attempt to kill him? How annoying. If it’s a physical attack, he’ll simply thwart it, pinning you down, tossing you in an observation cell, or sedating you. After, he’ll probably just reduce your privileges—less access to the lab, no longer allowed to go out without him. Be a brat, and he’ll put you on a leash no problem.

But… if you're clever about it? If you're slipping poison into his coffee, or setting up traps around his lab, only to greet him at dinner with only a strained smile when it fails? How fun. He’ll let it continue until he’s bored of it, ignoring your attempts. Honestly; it’s a little cute. He’s blushing a little bit you can’t tell with his mask.

Attempt to kill the Tsaritsa? He’ll stop you. Weirdly enough, he’ll only really punish you if the Harbingers or the Tsaritsa herself noticed. Otherwise, he’ll chastise you, leading you back to his lab with his thin, sharp fingers digging into the back of your neck.

Succeed in killing the Tsaritsa? Well… damn. You gonna eat that? He’s kinda turned on. This isn’t a dealbreaker for him, unless it really messes with his plans, in which case he’ll punish you for it later. An easy way to get out of trouble with him is to just gift him the Tsaritsa’s corpse. So thoughtful! He’s never had the opportunity to play around with the remains of an archon. Hm? What about overthrowing Celestia? He’s the second of the fatui harbingers, on the power level of a god, they’ll figure it out.

Arlecchino - takes it badly

Try and kill her? Her eyes sharpen as she evaluates you, panting heavily and on your knees. You’ve proven yourself a traitor, and a bold one at that. Something so bold, to her, indicates you are not an independently acting force. There are others you work for or with. After a moment, her face softens. “I’m hurt” she says, voice raw, “But I love you. Leave and never return.” You take the chance. You have to.

It’s a trap. Her subordinates—handpicked by her—are trailing you, stalking you. The moment your guard drops and you meet with your associates, she’s got you again.

The last thing you see are her boots, languidly walking towards you. The last thing you hear is her voice, barely cutting through the screams of your co-workers. “I suppose I should kill you. It’d be fair. But I am… selfish. Don’t worry, darling, you won’t go unpunished. This will be a fate worse than death.” The last thing you feel is her claws, carding through your hair.

Try to kill the Tsaritsa? You’re called into her office with little explanation what for. Usually, it’s empty. But there are Fatui by the doors. Scattered over her desk, is the proof of your sins. An attack against the highest of the Fatui. You can’t see it, but her heart is quick, and her throat tight. She opens her mouth to speak, baring her teeth, too white, too sharp. Her voice trembles a bit, almost minutely. “You understand what this means? What the collapse of the Fatui would mean for me? For my children? And still…”

It’s a death sentence. She speaks it once, lifting her hand to signal her children to step forward. She doesn’t do the job herself, leaving the room, letting the heavy wooden slam behind her.

Kill the Tsaritsa? She’s not there at the time. Still in Fontaine while your plan gets carried out in Snezhnaya. When she gets the news, she freezes. Hardly a few weeks ago, she found the will to break character for a moment to press a kiss to your cheek before you set out on the voyage north. She ignites the page as soon as she’s done, storming to her private quarters.

Later, when she collects herself, she’d set her assassins out, correspond with any remaining harbingers, and lay out a plan for the future. For one, painful night though, she mourns.

Scaramouche - Manipulatable

Try kill him? Oh god. The monologue. You almost wished he just killed you in response. The “fourth betrayal, at the hand of his lover, cruelest of them all—” it’s a long tangent, and your body hurts from the binds. Don’t tune it out though, because the moment he notices, a jolt of electricity tears through your body. His face darkens at your scream. How dare you ignore him—he probably won’t kill you, but your leash shortens considerably.

Whether you kill the Tsaritsa, or plan to kill the Tsaritsa it’s roughly the same response. It all depends on how you treat him after. Suck up, apologizing again and again, creeping closer and closer, until you climb on his lap, whispering how you only have eyes for him. You love him. So much. Press a kiss to his cold, doll-like cheek. Say after it was all done, you were going to run away with him—it’s your best shot. He may just stow you away, somewhere where his coworkers can’t get to you. He’d keep you to himself and tell everyone he disposed of you.

If you’re unapologetic, making it clear you didn’t care for him, he’d freak the fuck out. A very dangerous temper tantrum. At the end of it, you’re hardly conscious, laying on soft blankets, body throbbing in pain, you wince when you try to move. A hand, porcelain and cold, drags you down. Stay still, he says. You’ve been an idiot and gotten yourself mangled. By him, yeah. He couldn’t bring himself to kill you though.

~~~

So… much… and i didn’t even get half of themmm aaaaa

Anyways I really enjoyed this ask, but doing something for all of the harbingers is a lot, plus this is a side blog and I’m 6k works deep in a main blog project, bleh.

[violetasteracademic]

i don't know why "you are the new ribbon az" is turned into something romantic. after the interaction gwyn and azriel had in the bonus chapter gwyn immediately saw the ribbon as an opponent.

"Gwyn nodded her farewell, again facing the ribbon. A warrior sizing up an opponent, all traces of that charming irreverence gone."

if azriel=ribbon, then gwyn was showing her true feelings for azriel through the ribbon after she stopped talking charmingly to him.

Hello anon!!

While I always want to come from the most well informed place as possible, I must admit I am someone who does not wade into the pools of anti Elriel tags. Thus, I get the majority of the information about what Az and G/wyn shippers are using as evidence against my will, or from my real human friends who ship them but are not deep in the trenches. For them, it really doesn't go deeper than: I'm neutral about L/ucien and Elain so they might as well be paired off but I love G/wyn and Az so I want them to be together. Fair.

So- I'm kinda spinning my wheels here, but I will say some recurring themes I have noticed with my limited exposure is this:

Much of the G/wynriel ship is centered around the idea of symbolic transference. This logic is actually not flawed in of itself, and is an extremely common literary device. However, in the current story, it relies on creating narrative context where it doesn't exist and erasing the context that does exist for it to make sense.

What I mean is this:

I understand there to be a belief that Elain returning Truth-Teller at the end of ACOWAR was symbolic transference that reflected that Elriel's developing relationship was over because she was symbolically "giving Azriel back and not turning back." Then started "opening up" to L/ucien. The context that this lacks is that we have two more books following this where they did not in fact end, but grow. And Elain did not, in fact, open up to L/ucien but further shrank around him and snapped about him not being entitled to her her affection and time just because he was a nice boi bringing her presents.

There is a belief that Azriel regifting the necklace was the symbolic transference of Azriel's confirmed romantic feelings for Elain to G/wyn.

I can only assume that, because so much of the thought process relies on a belief in the employment of this literary device, symbolic transference also somehow needed to be applied to G/wyn, and the ribbon was all that could even remotely apply.

I think what is missing from all of this, apart from the obvious which is that Azriel and Elain are feral for each other, is that this type of literary device is typically applied symbolically at the culmination of the story and character arcs. Think of when Aelin returned her amethyst ring to Chaol. She had an entire book with Rowan, away from Chaol, reflecting on their relationship, developing feelings for her end game romantic interest and finally becoming the lost Queen of Terrason and quite literally learning to move away from her human body- the one that Chaol had loved.

She finds her path, her purpose, her future, and after all of this, she finally lets go of what she has been holding on to. She returns the ring.

Elain and Azriel have not had their story yet, and this is where the holes lie. For any of this to be foreshadowing or the literary device that people are assigning to it, the cart is being placed before the horse. The food is being served raw.

If Elain and Azriel did not have a story in development, there would be no need for all of these little items to symbolically represent the end of their story. It actually has to happen first for these little details to mean what they are being interpreted to mean, and then we look back and say, oh, how clever, when Elain gave Truth-Teller back, it's because she was ready to let go. When Azriel regifted the necklace, it's because in two pages and the interference of a third characer, he moved on from her.

But if Elain and Azriel in fact ended off page in a bonus chapter due to symbolic transference of a relationship, absolutely nothing will land as intended. Which, again, is where it gets messy. Elain returning the knife didn't end of Elriel's budding romantic interest. So that piece gets taken out. Azriel regifting the necklace to G/wyn was not based on his emotional growth as a character and his maturing and finding himself and learning he is not interested in perusing a woman he is forbidden from seeing, so that gets taken out.

Which leaves us the ribbon. And looking at the other perceived literary devices, we have to ask- what is Gwyn transferring?

Azriel giving Elain Truth-Teller was romantic.

Azriel gifting Elain her necklace was romantic.

Both of those moments are being used to symbolize the literal transference of romantic affection.

Was G/wyn... romantically interested in the ribbon? Was she attracted to the ribbon? But she realized she couldn't have the relationship she wanted with the ribbon, so now she is symbolically transferring her feelings for the ribbon to the better choice, Azriel?

Context, friends. Context. Unless we are suggesting that G/wyn was in fact in a romantic relationship with the ribbon, the symbolism and assumption of the employed literary device does not even make sense. You cannot employ transference with nothing to...well... transfer.

Thanks all I've got for this one! Stay kind out there, fam.

[beauty-and-passion]

Did you see Thomas Sanders' YouTube community post about his plans for videos, including Sanders Sides?

... well, it looks like something happened in the SaSi fandom. Jeez, I cannot leave for a couple months to celebrate the Gravity Falls renaissance, that Mr. Sanders decides to pull up some stunts while I wasn't looking :P

Maybe he hoped I wouldn't notice. That I was gone. Well, unfortunately for him, I am always around - and if I lose something, there are always nice people ready to give me a heads-up. So here I am again, ready to give my unrequested two cents about the latest updates.

A lot of things happened since dear anon wrote me this ask, so I will not talk about one single post (also because I have no idea what post the anon was referring to :P) but I will briefly talk about the latest info taken straight from the ts_criticism tag, which is always the most updated place regarding SaSi.

No, Mr. Sanders' updates do not count, considering they're non-existent.

_____________

Season 2 finale: to watch or not to watch?

There was a survey going on in the criticism tag regarding the season 2 finale and whether people would watch it on YouTube, another platform, or just ignore it.

Now we can tell ourselves all the stories we want, but at the end of the day, we know everyone will watch it - no matter if on Thomas' YouTube page or somewhere else.

And even though we already know it will never be worth the years of waiting, I am sure everyone will still give it a chance. The view count will be high.

But if that's true for part one, who knows what will happen for all other parts? What if part 1 is not worth the wait? Will people still be willing to give a try to the other parts? Will they be willing to wait who knows how long for them?

_____________

The hilariously bad Brei Grace situation

Is it so surprising, that Thomas lost another person working for him? It's basically a constant, considering people keep being laid off, disappearing or not getting paid enough. By now, you would think this man learned something from the past but hey, it looks like I overestimated his intelligence.

What I find incredibly funny about this situation is not that Brei herself had to tell the truth to the public because Thomas, as always, refuses to be honest about anything. It's about this specific part of his post regarding Roleslaying with Roman:

Oh my god, this is so bad it's hilarious.

So Thomas laid his last writer off, but apparently he wasn't clever enough to find a proper replacement before doing it and he openly admitted in a post, to his fans (including his investors) that he has no writer to replace Brei and will have to keep following/begging her to get more of the script, because there's no one else who can develop the story in her place.

Do I really have to explain why everything about this is so stupid? Do I? Okay, then:

Thomas was apparently very quick at firing Brei, but not quick enough in finding another writer before doing it. That's not how any competent person works: when I left my last job, my boss asked me to stay for a couple more days, just enough to get a replacement. But hey, I suppose "finding a replacement" and "not leaving a vacant position" were too complex, too difficult thoughts for Mr. Sanders.

Mr. Sanders showed his investors he's so disorganized and impulsive, he fired someone with no backup plan and, as a result, had to put the series on hold. One of the series people are paying him to produce. If I were still paying him, I would stop immediately after this: if you're this unprofessional, you don't deserve money.

After laying Brei off, Thomas still wants to reach her for details regarding the story. The same story he fired her from. If he was so desperate for more of her work, he should've found a way to keep her around, not laid her off, then waste more time trying to find a way to get more of her.

If I were Brei, I would ignore Thomas forever and refuse to write even one more word regarding Roleslaying. But I'm a cold, heartless person, so I don't count. Still hope Brei will have some self-respect and refuse to share her work for free just because he's begging.

Or, at least, I hope she will ask for pre-payments first.

Thomas thought it was a great idea to show how unprofessional and disorganized he is via Twitter post. And refused to say the whole truth too. And no one was in the room to tell him: "Hey, what if you get a replacement first, so at least you won't have to admit you are dropping a series because you have no writer left?".

That's so stupid it doesn't even make me mad. It simply goes all the way around and becomes pure genius.

It also (involuntarily?) reconfirms a thought I had long ago, when Joan left. When I watched the goodbye video, I expected Thomas and/or Joan to tell us: "Hey, Joan is leaving, but here is the person who will replace them!".

But nope, no introduction of a new writer, no update post. Literally nothing. Joan left and no one came in. Only vague mentions of other people and names, but mostly Thomas confirming he was the main SaSi writer.

Thomas. Who is not a writer - let alone a competent one.

That's so stupid it's hilarious.

So, since now Thomas got rid of his last writer, what will he do? Learn how to become one? Considering his lack of progress in general, I suppose not.

So what? Will he hire another one of his friends? Will he think he can do anything and write RwR himself? Or will he keep trying on SaSi, a series that is so difficult to handle and with so many stakes, that even a competent writer would have problems with?

The incompetence has just reached a new level and I can't wait to see how deeper we can go.

_____________

The spoilers for the next SaSi episode

Thanks to @t-slanders, who appeared out of nowhere and decided to feed us something more than the absolute nothing Thomas gave us for years, we know what the next SaSi episode will be about.

And look, it's a plot in which:

The main topic of discussion is Thomas and Nico's relationship

Roman is ready to push things further

Janus and Virgil are not

Virgil is hiding he's on Janus' side

Wow. Wow. That's what Thomas came up with, this is what he's working on for 4+ years and hasn't finished writing yet.

Now, I'm not saying he should've created another plot: that's the only possible plot he could've developed. The only one that made sense, considering how WTIT ended and what was hinted during the 5 year anniversary special.

Why am I so sure of that? Because those are the exact same plot points for the season 2 finale - part 1 I came up with: in my version, Thomas was questioning if he was ready to have a relationship with Nico, Roman wanted to push things further, Janus wanted Thomas to be more cautious, Virgil was siding with Janus but refused to admit it.

Sure, some elements are different of course, but the plot points are the same. The biggest difference is that it took me a few months to develop them into a plot, not 4+ years.

And since those are the plot points, I already know how they will develop too. And not because I'm a genius but, again, they can only go in one direction: Thomas will eventually agree with Janus, it will become obvious Virgil is siding with him, Roman will feel betrayed and his arc will start in the next parts. It's already all written here, it can only go this way. The time travel idea is an "embellishment", but the plot can only go one way.

However, that doesn't mean the season finale will be automatically bad. A lot of stories I can predict end up being great anyway. So no, I won't judge it for its predictability. I will judge it for the production time and the characters' personalities.

And speaking of personalities...

_____________

The tweet video

I watched it at 2x speed, because didn't want to waste too much time on it.

It was... okay. Just okay. The characters' personalities are just okay. Everything is just okay.

Sigh. I'm tired of everything being "just okay".

And no, I cannot shake the feeling that Thomas pulled out this video in 0.2 seconds, only because he had a sponsorship to do.

One last thing I want to tell now, so consider it a warning: if the next episode and/or eventual season finale part 1 are "just okay", I will consider it negatively. From a canonical episode, I expect more than to feel "meh" while watching it.

_____________

And now?

We do the same thing we do every night, my dears: we wait forever for Mr. Sanders to finally decide to update us, to work on SaSi, or to do some stupid shit worthy of a discussion.

Of course, that doesn't mean we should burn him at the stake or cancel SaSi: we are all adults here, so we will simply highlight the shit Thomas does, because if you do stupid shit, you deserve to be criticized. That's not a personal attack, that's just being objective. I hope, one day, he will learn that too.

And maybe, who knows? He will also learn from his mistakes, hire someone competent, pay them properly and not lay them off without finding a replacement first.

Or, maybe, he will just find the perfect excuse to drop SaSi/put the finale on hold forever, so he will be finally free from the burden he clearly feels. When that day comes, I wish him to find a series he will be truly passionate enough, to keep it on until the end.

And sure, of course I will be around when the supposed next episode will supposedly come out: one part of me hopes it will be good, while the other part loves shooting a fish in a barrel. So... well, at least I will be satisfied either way ;P

[nuhackearney]

Fic: At A Loss

For @romanthereigns and anyone else feeling a little blue over LA's loss tonight. I said I wouldn't go here, but here we are...(aka, LA Knight x Reader)

You get people drinks, you pick up towels, you watch over equipment...yeah, you're pretty much a go-fer, but you adore your job! You get to travel, meet interesting people and you work for one of the most entertaining businesses in the world - the WWE!

Sure, the superstars don't know your name and you're not famous or anything, but you're an important cog in a big machine and you know your worth.

...you also know you have a helpless, stupid, unbelievably bad crush on LA Knight.

...yeah.

You're into him.

Too bad that, just like everyone else in the biz, he'll never notice you. Hell, he doesn't even know you exist.

Or so you think.

You're on hand for Crown Jewel. The energy is high, the activity chaotic. You've never dashed around so much in your life! Water bottle for Sami Zayn here, a boom for a member of camera crew there, and so on and so on.

You manage to catch snippets of different matches, but as a whole it's hard to keep up. Right until the very end. The end where the Bloodline yet again interferes and yet again help Roman score the win.

...which means LA lost.

It's a sobering realization. You were really rooting for him - even aside from your ridiculous one sided crush - you were hoping for someone to finally dethrone the Tribal Chief.

But, yet again, disappointed.

Poor LA, you think, but you know better. He's a big strong guy, he'll bounce back, no skin off his nose. He's the Megastar, everyone says his name and everyone knows it's his game. He'll be fine.

Again, or so you think.

Until, very very late into the evening, as you go to clean up one of the messy break rooms and you come across him. It makes your breath bottle in your throat, the sight of him sitting on one of the cafeteria tables, his head in his hands.

He's fully dressed now - brown leather jacket, 'Yeah' shirt, jeans, and boots. A totally different look from what he wore to the ring tonight. He must hear you come in, because he lifts his head to turn and look at you.

You clear your throat and offer a weak wave, even as you manage a near toneless, "I'll, ah-? Come back later..."

The plan is to stealthily back out, but he sits up straight and gestures to you, "Naw, naw - come on over, y/n."

His voice is loud, but more somber than you've heard it before and he? He said your name? You carefully ease further into the room and walk towards him, your fingers sort of nervously playing with one another as you get closer, "Um? You know my name?"

"Sure. I've seen you at lots of shows. They call your name all the time for shit. Ice packs, sandwiches, hairspray - there anything they don't have you fetch?"

You shake your head because he's not wrong. Again, you know your role. Maybe that's what he needs? Your go-fer skills? And you're about to ask if you can get him something when he asks quietly, "Think you can get me a second shot?"

This makes you seize up, "What do you mean?"

He lets out a huff, "Guess you didn't see me lose out there."

You don't know what to say.

He does, "Oh yeah, a big ol' 'L'. Granted, Roman's boys stuck in their noses again - Solo making a stink at the front, Jimmy in the back, but the end results just the same."

You've never seen him so serious before, so-? Well, melancholy is the first word that comes to mind, and the thought twists your heart into knots. You want to reassure him. Say something cool or clever, but your tongue is numb as he runs one hand over his five o'clock grizzled chin, "I dunno. Maybe I've been fooling myself. Fooling everybody."

"That's not true!" You blurt it out so quickly you almost don't realize you're the one who said it. But then his blue eyes swing to you and it's like a laser slicing you in half, that intense focus of his.

You clear your throat and feel your cheeks heat even as you keep your eyes averted when you talk, "You're-? You're the real deal. I know it. I feel it."

You know he's still looking at you and you feel a little sick and your heart is beating double time but you press on, "Yes, you didn't take the gold this time, but everyone is still behind you. Everybody is still saying your name, chanting for you - you're a superstar, you're a champion!"

"Yeah?" And he asks his normally rowdy catchphrase in a wry, teasing way that only makes the heat in your cheeks worse and god, this is torture. Does he know you have a crush on him?!? Is he possibly teasing you to death?

Being on the business end of one of his BFT's would be kinder...

"Yeah." You cough into one hand so that you can try and subtly rub away some of the heat from your skin, "So, y'know - you'll win. Get the gold you deserve. It's only a matter of time."

"Matter of time, huh?"

You nod and finally risk looking at him. He looks deep in thought and it's almost as if you can read his mind, "I-? I know you have been waiting for a long time already. But... it's going to happen. I promise."

There's a beat of silence between you and then, out of nowhere, he throws back his head and laughs. It's a happy sound and attractive laugh lines appear under his eyes as he reaches out a hand to you and ruffles your hair.

Such a simple and silly action shouldn't be so stimulating, yet here you are, practically melting under it as he rubs warmly and gently at your scalp, "You know what, y/n? You're right. It IS going to happen. YEAH."

The last is said loudly and with his classic jovial tone as he withdraws his hand and he stands up to get down to your level, albeit he still towers over you, "Not only 'cause you promised me, but because I promised myself! I just needed the reminder!"

"Oh!" You offer weakly, breathlessly, "Uh, good! Glad I could help!"

Your next plan is to turn and scurry away because you're sure that's what he wants, because that's what everyone wants after you've helped, but he freezes you with a, "Now wait a minute, you ain't leaving, are ya?"

Your eyes go wide with confusion even as he offers you the kind of saucy grin you've only seen from afar, "'Cause I could still use your help."

"Y-you could?"

"Sure." He eyes you up and down, "I need somebody to go out and eat with me tonight. Need somebody to test my kavorka on. Make sure it's still working."

It is, trust me! Almost pops out of your mouth immediately, but this time you manage to hold the words back, instead giving him a demur, "Alright."

"There we go." He throws one arm around your shoulders and gives you a little squeeze, "Hey, stick with me, kid and I promise you, you'll get what you deserve!"

While you're positive that he thinks you deserve a better job or pay or something along those lines, you honestly hope that you get what you want more than what you deserve.

Hell, you're actually getting what you want right now.

A night out with LA Knight?

YEAH.

[unfixablebabyyy]

so i just read You and was obsessed w the perspective and also i just love getting a lil peak into dennis's brain so this is a something i wrote idk (also slightly inspired by that one meme of that anime girl lol)

(nsfw, minors DNI)

Dee's taste in... well, everything is absolutely abhorrent, but her taste in people is especially repugnant, which is why I can't fathom why such a striking creature would ever consider her a friend. What do you see in her? She's annoying and rude and abrasive, but you, you're none of those things. And I knew that the second I met you, but I had to be sure. So for the last week or so I've been doing a bit of research and it turns out, you really are just perfect- kind, smart, fun, absolutely stunning. Your only flaw lies in the fact that you're so incredibly naive. You leave your doors unlocked, your windows open, you always walk around the city with headphones on and your face in your phone. You're such an easy target. Don't you know how sick the world can be? But it's ok, it's not your fault- you're prey. Good thing I've got my eye on you. I'll protect you, even if it means you never go outside off leash again.

And now, as you sit across the bar from me, I can smell your perfume and I just want to drown in it, in you. You're half turned away, joking with Charlie as he throws darts, and from your side profile I can make out the tiny bumps of your nipples under your shirt. The past three nights you've come with Dee to the bar, you haven't worn a bra. You're clever, but not subtle. It's beyond cute. When you turn to me, I make sure my gaze lingers on your chest a second too long. I want you to know that I noticed.

"Hey!" I could never get tired of your voice. I need to know what it sounds like after a long night of crying.

"I.D., please."

You giggle. I've been carding you since the first night you came in, it's become a joke between us. Really, I just love reminding myself how young you are. When you hand it over, I brush my fingers against yours. I pretend to examine it and nod approvingly before handing it back. You grin, and this time, you brush your fingers against mine.

"Alright, what can I get you?"

You bite your lip, "Surprise me." Of course you want me to decide for you. I smile. I could surprise you. I could slip you something and we could have a night full of surprises. But not yet.

"You got it." And I know exactly what I'll make you- I saw the cranberry juice in your fridge and the vodka on your counter while doing my research. You were at work.

"Just don't make it too strong." Don't worry, I won't start making them strong until you're at least three in. Your eyes go wide as the song playing over the jukebox changes from some Dire Straits Mac had put on to Depeche Mode. "Personal Jesus". Kind of on the nose, but you won't notice.

"Oh my god I fucking love this song," you're so bubbly, and I know, I saw the album sitting on your record player. That's why I queued it up when Dee mentioned you'd be stopping by.

"I saw them when I was in middle school," don't forget, I'm old enough to be your daddy. I was in my twenties when you were born. You like that- I can tell by the way your cheeks get a little more pink.

"Ugh you're so lucky, I would love it if they toured again," I slide you your drink and smile.

"Well, if they do, I'll take you." Did your dad ever buy you concert tickets? I bet he did.

"Then it's a date," now you're really blushing, "or whatever." You're so sweet it's making me lightheaded. 'Or whatever'? So submissive. I imagine if I were to take a bite out of you I might get a toothache.

"It can be a date," of course it's a date. You bring your drink to your lips and sip and god I wish I could just reach over and taste you. You smile as you set it down.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd think maybe you like me," Like you? Last night I was looking at custom dog bowls for the cage I'm going to put you in. I can't sleep at night without touching myself to the thought of cumming inside of you, marking you, making you mine. I don't like you, I want to cut you open and crawl inside of your ribs and hold your heart in my hands.

"You're adorable," I could rip you apart with my teeth. You cross your legs and readjust in your seat. Again, not subtle. I wonder just how wet you are. I mean Jesus Christ, all I have to do is look at you and I can practically hear that little lamb heart beating in your chest, and I can only wear this wool for so long. Sooner or later you're going to see the teeth and the claws. Maybe they'll scare you, maybe not. Either way, it won't matter when they're making you bleed, and judging by how red your face gets when I speak to you, I think you'll bleed easy. Bruise easy, too.

"Do you flirt with all of your sister's friends?" you're starting to get a little bolder. I lean in so that my face is inches from yours, like I have a secret. Your eyelashes flutter.

"No. Only you," I won't play your games, I want my intensity to bring you to your knees. The last couple of days have been fun- toying with you, making you wonder whether my charming smiles and compliments and gentle touches were platonic or not. But it's time to show you who's in charge. You bite your lip. I swear to god I can smell the pheromones on you.

It doesn't take me long to get you drunk enough to slip out the back door with me while everyone else argues over a game of pool. You really are such a lightweight. As the door swings shut behind us, I cup your little face in my hands and press my lips to yours. I don't want to. What I want to do is rip your clothes off and pull you to the ground and watch as the panic begins to rise when I slap my hand over your pretty mouth to muffle you. But that could be dangerous and I have to control myself. You kiss me back and slip your hands under my t-shirt where they roam across my chest, up my shoulders, down my back. It's giving me goosebumps and making it harder not to hurt you. I decide to test my limits. When I push you up against the rough brick exterior, I shove a little too hard and you yelp. But it only seems to make you want me more. So when I lean in to kiss you again, I bite down on your bottom lip, and you moan. Of course you're one of those girls. You love the abuse.

My hand finds your neck and you gasp even though I don't tighten my grip- I just want you to know I could- I want to. Someday I will- I'll choke you so hard and for so long you'll pass out, and then I'll smack your face until you wake up, just to do it again. I'll make you beg for the privilege of breathing. But not tonight. If I ever want to get to that point, I have to stay focused. Besides, just the feeling of my fingertips on your throat is turning you on- I can feel a wet patch forming on my knee where I shoved my leg between yours.

The heat of your body is making your perfume stronger and I feel like I'm going insane, like I'm on the verge of doing something depraved. You push your hand into the waistband of my jeans, then my boxers, and I can't help but growl when your fingers wrap around my cock. As you start pumping your hand up and down, I lose myself for a moment and dig my fingers into your neck. You whine, and when I release, I notice the dark red crescents my nails left on your soft skin.

It's best if I make my hands busy, so I work on the button of your pants as you continue to play with me. I groan into your neck as you squeeze me hard. Pretty soon I'm going to have to pin your wrists to the wall. When you do it again I bite your neck hard enough to serve as a warning and you quickly soften your grip as your jeans inch down just enough. Good girl.

You shiver as the night air breathes down the alley. I can feel your pulse in your cunt as I touch you over your panties. You're so pathetic, you easy little whore. I haven't even bought you dinner and you're already about to let me fuck you stupid next to a dumpster behind my bar. But I won't. I'm gonna make you beg for it. I want you to be so achy and needy for my cock you'll let me do anything to you. I can't fuck you tonight, you haven't earned it.

I sigh and retract my hand. "You're drunk," I press my lips into the crook of your neck and practically feel you deflate against the wall. "Why don't I take you home?"

"Oh," your voice is so sweet and soft, "ok."

I pull away and brush a loose strand of hair from your face before planting a kiss on your lips. Relax, angel. I'm not done with you. You pull your hand out of my pants and the absence almost hurts.

"My car's just down the street, I'll tell Dee you got sick," I brush my thumb across your cheek and peck your forehead before snaking my arm around your waist and leading you down the alleyway. At the end, before we step onto the sidewalk, you stop.

"Did I do something?" Your eyes are so big.

"Consent is really important," I lie, "I just want you to feel safe with me," it'll be all the more enjoyable for me when you realize you're not. My answer seems to satisfy you.

When we get to my Range Rover, you raise an eyebrow, "Nice car."

"Thanks, Frank bought it for me when I got into Penn," it doesn't matter if it's true, now you think I know how to take care of something for a long time. I've established my ability to commit.

"Jesus, isn't that Ivy League?" And just like that, you see that I belong to an elite community of scholars.

"Yeah."

In the Range, you begin looking through my CD collection, pulling out albums you recognize, asking about ones you don't. You like old music, old cars, old men. You mention that your dad introduced you to Christopher Cross, so of course I slip it into the radio and skip to Sailing and tell you it's my favorite, which is true, but I happen to know it's yours, too.

I pretend to be lost and ask you where to go even though I've made the drive at least 20 times in the last week. When we get to your place, I park the car right outside of the familiar front doors and look up at your dark window.

"Are you sure you don't want to come in?" you spread your legs ever so slightly. So obvious.

"How about I cook you dinner tomorrow night," you'll act like a whore when I say, first I've got to teach you some manners.

"When?" you don't want to leave.

"I'll call you." Get out.

You step out onto the curb and wave.

"Goodnight," I say and you turn and head in. I don't leave until I know you're inside, safe. In fact, I don't really leave at all. I park the Range a block away and walk back. Your light is still off, but even in the darkness, I can see you up there. You really should close your curtains, especially when you're inside, naked and panting, humping your pillow like a bitch in heat.

[vincess-princess]

we, the psychos

ch. 3

ch. 1 ch. 2

Word count: 3421 Warnings: violence A/N: wow, seems this fic is bound to be updated every two years or so... seeing the surge in interest to it after a couple of my reblogs, so hope you enjoy it!

A key turning in the lock woke Tommy up. Through a small window on the door he could see someone’s neck, and the window was located just a little below his eye level. Tommy blinked in confusion – was the guest really that tall? – but the answer came a second later.

Yeah, the guest – a nurse, judging by the white coat - was tall, even taller than Tommy, which was a rarity. The nurse’s long blond hair was tied down into a ponytail, but a few stray locks rested on his neck, moving slightly by the draft from the hall. Tommy was so captivated by them he didn’t notice the awkward pause which the nurse also aptly used to stare back at the new patient. The regular staff that wasn’t informed about Tommy was probably equally mystified by the new guy, Tommy later realised.

The nurse was the one to break the silence.

“Lee, right?” he said, glancing at a piece of paper in his hand. “The newbie?”

Tommy only nodded, examining the nurse’s face. Tiredness hid in the corners of his eyes, in the curves of his lips, in the delicate circles of his nostrils. If he had some good night’s sleep, Tommy would call him handsome. If let down, his hair (dyed very coarsely, with black roots visible; the asylum dress code was sure way laxer than at Bass estate) would probably reach his shoulder blades; his lean body wore a white robe like others would wear gowns.

“Do you have like, a surname or something?” the nurse looked back at the paper, then up at Tommy again, frowning. “There’s only “Lee” here.”

Oh, how clever of his father. Just take away his name, refuse any mentions of Tommy belonging to his family. Just Lee. That’s what was seemingly written in his medical history, or what the nurse was holding there.

“It’s Tommy, actually,” Tommy said. “Tommy Lee”.

“Ah, good,” the nurse smiled friendly, and it was like a whiff of warm wind in the cold air of the room. “Tommy Lee it be, then. Some patients don’t even remember their names,” he explained. “A couple more questions. Who is the king of our kingdom?”

“King?” Tommy blinked in confusion. “I thought we have a queen.”

“Correct. And what year it is now?”

“Eighteen ninety-two?”

“Correct,” the nurse nodded, making a note on the paper, “again. At least you’re aware of your surroundings.” He looked over Tommy and frowned again. “What brought you here? You look and sound normal.”

“Not for long,” Tommy promised glumly. He never knew when exactly it was going to hit him, but it always came back, earlier or later.

“Huh, alright then.” The nurse didn’t look wary at all. On the contrary, he smiled warmly. “We’ll see. Now, I’ve gotta see you off to the canteen. It is said here,” he pointed at the paper, “that you should eat not with patients, but with staff. We’ve never had such requirements before. Also all of this,” he waved his hand around, meaning, probably, the carpet and the curtains, “not something you usually see in a public asylum. I guess whoever put you here wanted to make sure your life is alright, as much as it can be alright in this place.”

“I guess.” Tommy shrugged, trying not to give away the emotion that overcame him. This name would never leave his life completely, hard as he tried to erase it. Basses even here had it better than everyone else.

“You guess,” the nurse confirmed seriously. “Now, Mr. Tommy Lee, I shall see you off to the canteen, so get out of bed. Have you got your hospital robe already?”

“Should I?” Tommy frowned. He hadn’t seen these robes yet, but he suspected they would be far from fashionable. And fashion was probably the only thing in the world Tommy actually cared about.

“I guess?” the nurse said at first seriously, but then couldn’t hold back a laugh at. “Yes, Mr. Tommy Lee. You may be dining with the doctors but you’re still a patient.”

“I’m not like them,” Tommy resented. “I’m not going to wear it. I have enough of my own clothes.”

The nurse raised an eyebrow, suddenly serious. “Listen, Mr. Tommy Lee. Whoever you were in life, here you are just a patient. Like everyone else. Even the curtains in your room don’t change that. You do what the nurses tell you to do, or they’ll do that against your will.” He talked calmly, not a hint of anger on his face or in his voice, but it still sent shivers down Tommy’s spine. He wasn’t used to being ordered around like that. The urge to lower his gaze overcame him, but he pushed it away – he isn’t submitting to some nurse in a public asylum! His father might be a total asshole, but what he did teach Tommy was that Basses had the right to demand respect from anyone anywhere. Even here.

But Thomas Bass Sr. no longer had a son.

The silence in the room got heavier with every second. The nurse kept looking at Tommy with his clear, calm eyes. And Tommy hurriedly tried to come up with a witty answer.

The nurse tilted his head to the side, examining Tommy from head to toes.

“Get up.”

“I told you I’m-“

“Get up, I need to see your measurements,” the nurse interrupted him. “I just wanna see how tall you are. We may not have anything of your size.” He looked critically over Tommy and shook his head. “No. You’re too tall. We’ll have to alter some that we have… Alright. You can wear this to breakfast. But it’s only for this day. Get it?”

Tommy just nodded, not sure how he was supposed to react. He was convinced they would force him into a hospital robe sooner or later – but for now, it was postponed. And tomorrow he’ll come up with something else.

“Now, come with me,” the nurse turned to the door. “I shall see you off to the canteen - finally.”

“Thanks,” Tommy said, and he meant it all the way. “What’s your name, by the way? There’s no one to introduce us to each other, unfortunately, so I have to ask you directly.”

“My goodness,” the nurse smiled, “you surely are different. I like it, though. This place can make you forget about basic manners. I’m Mckagan. Michael Mckagan.” He stretched out his hand.

Tommy shook it. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Mckagan.”

“Oh, come on. No misters here. You can call me Duff, just don’t do it in front of the doctors.”

Duff? What kind of name was that? It sounded more like a sound an animal would make. Though who was Tommy, who just discarded his surname, to judge?

“Sure.”

“You must be thinking now who the fuck would call themselves like that?” the nurse- no, Duff, - laughed. “I get it. It’s just my preference. If you like Michael more, go by it.”

“Why would I? So many Michaels in the world, but I’m pretty sure you’re the first-” and the last– “Duff I’ve ever met.”

***

Tommy’s ward must have been far from other wards, because he only began seeing patients once he and Duff went down the stairs. Tommy thought seeing so many psychos in one place wouldn’t be much of a shock, as he has dealt with one for his whole life, but what he saw… well, it sure was depressing. There were different faces, young and old, some of them still with traces of their past beauty, others – with traces of the owner’s sins. But what scared him the most was the tiredness, the exhaustion ingrained in all the faces. It must be hard to bear the weight of a mental illness in such an unhospitable place like this. Would Tommy’s face look the same after a couple of years here?..

He looked at patients, and they looked back at him. All of them, each and every one. Their gazes were like insects on his skin, crawling and biting, getting into his ears and eyes. Tommy shook his head to shake them off, but it didn’t help. He barely managed to stop himself from grabbing Duff’s robe, but couldn’t help but raise his hands to his face to check if there were bugs there. There weren’t any, of course – they were always faster than him, faster by a tenth of a second.

They separated from the line of psychos near the stairs and climbed up. There it was, the canteen for the staff, on a balcony overseeing the main room where patients dined. Tommy suddenly realized he had absolutely no desire to go there. Among the insane he was a newbie, of course, but at least one of them; the staff was a completely different kind of crowd, and for some reason Tommy knew they wouldn’t be very welcoming to him.

His train of thought was interrupted: Duff opened the door and nudged Tommy inside. Suddenly, all eyes were on him – again.

Duff opened the door to leave, and Tommy began to panic.

“Wait, you aren’t going?” Tommy grabbed the sleeve of the nurse’s robe with all the force he could manage. Duff gently unclenched his fingers.

“Sorry, man, I’ve gotta look after the patients,” hesounded apologetic, but closed the door nevertheless, leaving Tommy inside with all those other doctors and nurses, not a single friendly face among them.

Turning around now felt like a torture. Everyone – every single one of the staff – was looking at him now.

“Hey, you! Wrong door?” a dark-skinned man with an impressive mane of curly hair called out. “This is the staff canteen. Yours is just down the stairs.”

“I was told I am going to eat with the staff.” Tommy felt a sudden urge to grab something and squeeze it, to let go the tension in his body.

“You?” the curly-haired nurse arched his eyebrow. “Who told you that?”

“It’s alright, Hudson,” someone suddenly called out from the back of the canteen. A man rose up from the table in the farthest corner, the only one that had tablecloth on it, and headed towards Tommy. The latter froze on place under an intent gaze of the man who was almost as tall as Tommy and twice as wide in the shoulders. “Mr. Duren talked to me about this. You must be Lee, right?”

“Right.”

“Good. Grab a plate and go get some porridge over there, in the corner.”

Tommy looked around once again, feeling like he was shrinking under all the gazes, looking at him with curious disapproval, like he was a bug under glass with a dozen of scientists looking at him from behind it. He wasn’t a bug. He didn’t want to be under glass every time he ate.

“Thank you, I’m not hungry,” he said quickly, opened the door and rushed down the stairs. There, in a much bigger but dirtier room, the patients were eating. Upon the first glance there wasn’t many of them, about seventy, but for such a number of people the room was strangely quiet. Those who spoke did so in hushed voices, and the bang of the door against the wall that Tommy pushed too hard echoed through the room, attracting their attention. Oh no.

The gazes of seventy psychos were making his skin itch, and a desire to just slam the door shut and retreat to the safe solitude of his ward overwhelmed him. By miraculous effort he forced himself to step into the room. Some gazes were curious, some indifferent, but all of them bore the mark of such weariness Tommy shuddered. Will he turn into something like that, with no desire to live whatsoever, in a few years?

He awkwardly made his way along the wall to the counter where they handed out food, grabbed a plate of porridge and headed to the only free spot he noticed. The patients at the table for some reason didn’t spread evenly along the bench, instead sitting in two clusters by both sides of the spot. When Tommy landed there, someone beside him exhaled loudly. Tommy looked there in confusion, but couldn’t pick out the one who did it. Frowning, he started eating the cold, sticky porridge, but didn’t get past two spoons.

The door opened again, and two people walked in. One was a red-headed nurse, young and handsome, with a grim expression on his face. Tommy’s gaze slid past him and stopped on the second one. The messy-haired blonde man in a straitjacket sauntered in as if he was the head of the place. The nurses at the counter and by the walls exchanged cautionary looks.

The nurse began to untie the knots on the straitjacket of the newcomer, who watched him lazily, with a one-sided grin. He told the nurse something, and the guy’s ears flushed pink while his fingers were fiddling with the knots.

Tommy looked around. Everyone’s eyes were on the guy. And, for some reason, on Tommy.

He blinked in surprise when the blonde gave the nurse a kiss on the lips, no shyness or restraint at all. He always thought such people would be more discreet in places like this, with the general attitude towards them in all-male spaces and the scarcity of women, but maybe that was a part of the man’s illness. The poor nurse stormed off, and the guy headed straight towards Tommy, waving his arms to warm them up.

He leaned at the table right across Tommy, his eyebrows furrowed.

“You must be the newbie.”

“News spread fast, I see,” Tommy said, his voice quieter than he wanted it to be, but at least it wasn’t shaking. The man had a bad atmosphere around him, something sinister in that crooked grin of his. Tommy couldn’t bring himself to look into his eyes, so instead he looked at his hands on the table. His knuckles were red and skinned. Did he get to put his fists to use often?

“No, I just never seen you before,” the man replied. “And with that face, I would have remembered you.” He smirked and curved an eyebrow, but the playful glint in his face went away as quickly as it came. “Now, you might not know that, which is the only reason why I still haven’t decked you in your pretty face, but that’s my spot. Get out.”

The audacity rendered Tommy speechless for a moment.

“But I was here first,” he said, gripping his spoon tighter, rage rising its ugly head inside his chest. He might be one of them now, but that didn’t mean they got to order him around. Especially this one, conceited like a barber’s cat.

“I don’t give a shit. Move your ass somewhere else,” the blonde leaned closer to Tommy, his eyes darkening. Tommy looked around nervously, but no one was willing to take his side, even the nurses talking quietly at the front of the room seemingly paid no mind to what was happening right in front of their eyes. Judging by the straitjacket in which the man arrived to the canteen, he was a dangerous patient. Weren’t they supposed to look after him?

“No,” Tommy said, the spoon in his hands on the verge of snapping in half. “I was here first.”

Someone let out a whistling sigh. The blonde tilted his head to the side, examining Tommy with his cold gaze. The tension between them was so intense the air seemed to warm up with just their gazes.

“Alright. Nobody will say I didn’t give you a chance,” the blonde said, and the next thing Tommy knew, his chair fell down and his head hit the floor from the powerful blow the man dealt him in the eye.

Well, that was fucking it. Holding onto the table, Tommy got up. His vision went black in the corners of his eyes, but he saw his target very well – the smug, content face with a mane of blonde hair around it.

Tommy punched him in the jaw and, miraculously, hit it, hard enough to make the man yelp and recoil. While he was recovering from the hit, Tommy jumped over the table, pushing several plates off it, and stood right in front of his opponent. The guy turned out shorter than him and barely reached his nose with the top of his head. And this shortie was talking shit?

Well, he asked for that. Tommy hit him again, this time in the stomach. The man dodged, but not completely, still stunned from his previous attack, and Tommy’s punch did elicit a groan from him. Tommy’s head was still spinning, blood rumbled in his ears, but it didn’t stop him from trying to kick the man in the shin, which he missed. The man used it to his advantage, grabbed Tommy by the hair and tried to punch him again. Tried, because that was when nurses ran up to them and pulled them apart. It took three nurses to hold the blond man in place – he was screaming bloody murder and kicking like crazy until the nurses pinned him to the floor and handcuffed his wrists behind his back. The hate in his undecipherable screams filled the air, to the point that Tommy could almost grab it with his hand, hate towards him or the nurses, he wasn’t sure. Two nurses were holding Tommy by the arms, but he didn’t try to fight, and they released him once the blonde man was out of sight. His screams could still be heard down the hall.

Everyone’s eyes were on Tommy now. The wide-shouldered nurse approached him.

“Lee! A fight, on the first day? You’re a delight to have in the hospital, I see,” he said. There was something uncanny in his voice, something Tommy didn’t quite get. Maybe it was Tommy’s sick imagination, seeing threat in everyone. “This is a surefire way to the solitary confinement, you know. Michael, take him to his ward. No breakfast for him today.”

“But I didn’t start it,” Tommy said somewhat defiantly. “I did nothing bad. Should I have let him just hit me like that?”

“Doesn’t matter,” the nurse waved his hand. “We allow no fights in this facility. Michael! What are you waiting for?”

Tommy opened his mouth to reply, but Duff’s strong fingers already squeezed his arm and pulled him forward, to the door out of the canteen. After several minutes of wandering along identical corridors and staircases, they arrived at Tommy’s ward.

“Are you alright?” Duff finally spoke. Tommy’s cheek still hurt from the punch, and sparks danced in front of his eyes with every movement of his head, but he only noticed that now, his mind having been replaying the fight scene in front of his eyes all that time. His knees suddenly went slack, and he plopped down onto the bed with a groan.

“Just a bruise,” he winced, carefully touching his cheek. The punch was solid, but didn’t break anything. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t know Dr. Duren has ordered to let Wharton out of the padded cell,” Duff said guiltily. “He only spent a night there. Usually they keep him there for at least a day.”

“A day?” Tommy frowned. “And all that time - in the straitjacket?”

“Yeah.” Duff shrugged. “Don’t feel sorry for him, Tommy. He deserves twice more than that. He’s a curse of the whole asylum.”

Tommy remembered the almost inhuman screams and shuddered. “Why… why did he do that? People would have moved to give him some space if he asked.”

“You’re a newbie,” Duff said, “no doubt he wanted to pick at you – to test you, maybe. He’s also… well, let’s say you should never turn his back to him when in the shower. He’s obsessed with sex and violence. A delight to have in the hospital, like nurse Simmons says.” He reached for the doorhandle, but turned back to Tommy to say something again. “Sorry for what happened. I can’t bring you breakfast, but I have some crackers in my locker. You want them?”

“I’d like some,” Tommy nodded. “And what’s next? Am I just sitting here until lunch?”

“The doctor will come see you soon. And then patients usually work in the garden. I doubt they’ll force you to do it, though, so you can just enjoy the fresh air.” Duff stepped out of the door. “Take care, Tommy.”

[warsamongthestars]

Honestly you are so right. I never thought about it like that.

Having recently rewatch TBB from their introduction episode in TCW, i kept going "what the hell".

Admittingly, i did NOT like them at first. I enjoyed the other clones, but i just.. couldn't care until after s1 of TBB and even then, only S2 made me fall in love and S3 made me dwell deeper.

But rewatching TCW episodes... i can see why. Its not just that its different writing, that whole episode was INCREDIBLY cheesy, they were cheesy. And whats funny is i don't think they're too bad after their introduction episode.. but its like. They all fit into their sterotypes first episode, but TBB actually gave them personalities i feel, so when rewatching their introduction... it feels.. Not super iconic, sorry if that is an unpopular opinion.

Like their poses and first fight is really cool, but the whole conversation they have not only implies what you said, but also comes off as "edgelord 10 y/o boy who has watched way too many adventure movies". Which i get they were trying to be show offs as well as show the audience they are extreme.

But it just.. comes across as goofy to me.

and to be clear, i know star wars in general can be seen as cheesy, I'm not knocking down cheesy-ness, and i love most TCW episodes new and old, but i think thats why it bothers me ? I don't remember feeling "oh thats cheesy" in a negative light in any other episode, even with other series.

Sorry that this got long !!!!!

Damn, first ask. XD

Thank you for that! But uh...

... The irony here is that I have to disagree. I liked them in TCWs over TBB, and I wanted to see more of what the TCWshow's BBs had to offer.

I went the old fashioned way of watching TCWs (For the clones, I don't care that much about Jedi stories), and by the time I reached S7, they were announcing TBBshow. I had the build up from that, to reach the momentum and when I made it to the Bad Batch Arc, it was like falling in love with clones all over again.

Cliche in function, yes, by all viewing they fullfill their cliches.

But let me point out something that occurs in character writing--How the character acts to their friends, will be different with how the character acts to their coworkers, and how they act to their own families, to how they act to strangers. This is part of how you create a 3-Dimensional Character.

So my interpretation is different. Here's how my thought process went.

What we saw in TCWs, was merely how the BBs act when acting under officers (Coworkers) they didn't know (Strangers).

( Wrecker starts enthusiastic but "dumb" muscle, but as the Arc went on, he actually mellowed out. Showing that while he's excitable, he's not actually as excitable as what he introduced himself as. He's clever not "dumb muscle", he's multi-capable (he's the second pilot of the Marauder), he's in more control of himself than anyone on the team (hence that when he lifts Jesse up, Jesse is fine afterwards, when by that point we've seen that he lifts ships--he could've easily hurt Jesse but he didn't))

Given they don't look or act like clones, and looking and acting like clones is expected in their position or risk removal, they were effectively playing themselves up as their "cliches" in order to sell their skills and avoid unnecessary or even dangerous questions.

( Hunter is constantly snarky and never directly answers anything about "who you report to" or "how many missions you were on". But at the start, he was promoting the hell out of his unit's capabilities. )

The Bad Batch were a series of characters that bounced off each other beautifully. Its something everyone noticed about them.

(From Crosshair using Tech's shoulder as a mount, to Wrecker tossing Hunter up, to Hunter and Crosshair's subtle backing each other up, to Wrecker quoting Tech. )

Their group dynamics are part of their greatest strength as a set of characters.

With the introduction of Echo, who unlike in TBB, Echo was enthusiastic and clever and crafty, with a playful sense of humor (not unlike how he started as a character in TCWs).

You've got an excellent addition to a group that already has strong character dynamics.

Echo, having been an Audience Surrogate Character for Clones in TCWs, would've easily been the main POV of whatever BB show came out of TCWs. Because he can ask the questions the audience would ask, and Echo is a familiar character with years of backing that the audience would be familiar with.

So you're right, in my book, about TCWshow. Though how I view how right you are is different because of my subtext.

The Bad Batch Arc of TCWs was a Good, if a bit trippy, Start, and not a finisher for the team. After all, all introductions tend to be rather clumsy (just ask TCWs' pilot film).

Which laid in the implication that we're going to Get that Finisher. And the journey.

But when we hit TBB... Then turned the nuance surface of TCWs Bad Batch, and either cut it out, or dumbed it down, or in two cases, changed it entirely.

( TCWs Hunter was a snarky worrywort who let his brothers do the actions while he stays in the corner, but he's dragged out because he's the "Sergeant". TBB Hunter is a stoic quiet type who wants order and control. TCWs Hunter and TBB Hunter are two entirely different characters. In fact, if I may speculate fan wise, TBB Hunter would be the kind of person that would cause TCWs Hunter to Shutdown... and we have evidence of this from TCWs; where Rex gets into Hunter's face, and Hunter shutsdown entirely until after the scene change. )

( Wrecker got dumbed down. That Explosive Enthusiasm he played up, became his defining feature (They effectively pulled a misfandom on their own original creation). While they did show he does have vulnerabilities and some of that TCWs cleverness... it often got overshadowed. )

( They removed Crosshair and broke the group dynamic, destroying the strongest part of their characters, which was their interactions with each other. )

( Echo went from Enthusiastic, Clever and Humor, to Just Bitchy. They didn't bring back his other facet at all. And mid way through TBB, they removed his character--effectively making anything about him a moot point. It nullified his introduction into the BBs )

( And I'm not going to go into a tyraid here about Omega. )

And suddenly, there wasn't any nuance anymore, because the BBs acted the same everywhere they went. There wasn't any developments, because the BBs didn't discuss anything for the audience to know.

Maybe a dramatic glance in the distance--but that's more Cliche than their character archetypes. Character Archetypes, no matter how obvious, can shift and change as they Develop.

But there's no character developing in TBB that doesn't involve how the show broke what made them strong characters to begin with.

Its like trying to make a house, but the foundation is the ceiling and attic, and the "ceiling" is the 3000 tons of solid fucking concrete.

The story, which was about how the Empire rose from the Republic, was literally elsewhere, so there was nothing that spurred the characters to do anything that involved the plot.

Now as you can prolly guess by this point, I'm very very keen on Character Driven stories, and I pay attention to character. While I treat all things as a "fan-fiction" (Given that fan-fiction shows the effort it takes to create a story or create anything), when it comes to officially published stuffed--so with teams, and a budget, and hired people to do the work--I expect the "fan-fiction" to go up in quality, to follow the format and standard set up and simply either stick to it or surpass it.

I think TBBshow was too clumsy, too fragmented, and far too shiny, for what it had. Having a small part of the metaphorical quilt work, doesn't subtract from the fact that the rest of the quilt is full of holes.

Have small good points, I'm afraid, doesn't make up for the fact that it was overall, a poorly written show that bites its prior series' hand.

It just means that, now, you have to steal the good points to add to whatever BBsquad exists in one's mind.

You take the part of the quilt that works... and make your own Quilt, and damn whoever fucked up the first job.

[mgcldydrms]

Fascination ( Tommy Shelby )

summary: a sweet confession after a small incident

word count: 923

warnings: mention of a disagreement, a bit of a make out I guess

pairing: tommy shelby x fem!reader

author's note: this is a repost from my old account & it was actually a request from @runnning-outof-time . I edited it one more time so I still hope you enjoy it.

navigation | main masterlist | peaky blinders masterlist | taglist

“I’m not afraid of you.”

Tommy cocked his head to the side, a slight smirk gracing his lips while he took a few steps towards you. He took one last drag of his cigarette before he put it out and left it in an ashtray that he passed by while making his way over to where you were.

At the same time, you moved backwards, your back hitting one of Tommy’s office walls. You gasped lightly as you felt the coldness on your hands. 

Was it a lie that you were not afraid of Tommy Shelby? Maybe. You weren’t really sure. Yes, he was a very intimidating man, yet you also knew that he could be affectionate, which was a side of him that he didn’t show to anyone else, not even to his family sometimes. 

Just a few minutes ago, you had gotten to that point where Tommy was about to show you this sweeter side of him when all of a sudden, a strange man walked into the betting shop, shouting furiously at Tommy.

You looked at the strange-looking man with wide eyes, scared that he would do something he would regret, however when you looked at Tommy, his eyes staring deadly at the other man, you knew that what was about to happen wasn’t pleasant to look at, hence you left and hid in Tommy’s office.

Now here you were, pressed against the wall, your heart hammering against your ribcage. You stared into Tommy's blue eyes, the same eyes that had captivated you ever since you first met the second oldest Shelby.

“Are you sure? Wouldn’t you like to know what I’ve done to the man?” Tommy asked you, one of his eyebrows lightly raised while he looked at you intently. 

Your breath hitched lightly while you shook your head. You didn’t want to know because you already did, or assumed you knew. You didn't want him to tell you every single detail about what he had done to the man. It would change the way you looked at Tommy, and you didn't want that, not yet.

You knew Tommy Shelby was one of those guys your parents had warned you about when you first started getting into boys. The ones you shouldn’t talk to and never work for. Yet, you did all of these things. You worked for Tommy, and the two of you had conversations with one another, even about topics that didn’t regard the Shelby Company. 

The man in front of you took one more step towards you, his hand finding yours, pulling you away from the wall, which made you fall into his arms. You put your hands on his chest, creating space between the two of you while you looked into his eyes again, a curious expression gracing your face. 

“You fascinate me, y/n.”, he suddenly confessed in his deep voice. 

You could feel your cheeks heating up, your eyes wide as you tried to comprehend his words. Tommy Shelby, the Tommy Shelby found you … fascinating? 

“Why?” you suddenly blurted out while the butterflies in your stomach celebrated a party. You felt his fingers move up and down on your arm, goosebumps appearing all over your body. 

Tommy chuckled, seeing your cheeks turn red. He wouldn’t say it out loud, but he found it quite adorable. 

“You started working for me without even asking what you’d have to do.”, he started. “You stay longer than anyone else, even longer than me sometimes. You stare at me which yes, I have noticed. Your cheeks get as red as they are now whenever I catch you doing it.”

You felt embarrassed. You always thought you were clever and no one, especially Tommy, would catch you looking at your boss. Oh, how wrong you were. 

“You told me once that everyone had warned you to work for me, yet you do. You also never ask questions, you just do what I tell you to do. Why?”

“I don’t know.”, you said quietly, almost inaudible, your eyes still looking into his blue ones.

Tommy nodded his head, his fingers still caressing your arms until he stopped, and put one of his hands on your cheek, pulling you even closer to him.

You could feel yourself getting lost in the moment. You could feel yourself falling more and more for Tommy Shelby, something you knew you shouldn’t do yet you knew that if you weren’t mistaken, he had been sending you signals as well.

Your eyes widened when you saw Tommy move. He leaned in, his lips close to yours as you felt his breath on your face. You closed your eyes, waiting for the moment to finally feel his lips on yours, however, the moment never came. Instead, you felt his lips on your neck. 

Your eyes opened wide, and a shudder spread all over your body as you felt his lips press multiple kisses all over your neck. You lifted your hand up, putting it on the back of his head while you started to play with his hair. 

“Maybe, I find you fascinating too..”, you whispered before a moan escaped your lips. 

Tommy hit a sensitive spot on your neck and you could feel his smirk on your skin as he continued to leave kisses on that special spot. 

After a little while, he pulled away, yet his face stayed as close to yours as possible, his blue eyes looking deeply into your e/c ones, and you swore you could see a faint smile on his lips. 

“I’m glad we both find each other fascinating.”

[thats-the-teen-spirit]

Bring Me The Horizon - POST HUMAN: NeX GEn album review

Well I didn't expect to write a full BMTH album review today but here we go. The band officially blueballed their audience to the point that as soon as they passed the longest streak without releasing an album, they surprise-dropped it completely unexpectedly. Just a heads-up, I'm not familiar to the lore of the album, what the Nex Gen is or whatever but still, here's my review:

[ost] dreamseeker

This is the shortest and most basic noise intro they've done I think for a while, it's just sounds of steps and the fade in to the first track

2. YOUtopia

Way before the album was announced, back during the Survivor Horror album cycle Oli said something along the way that the Post Human series wants to explore each of their favorite and most played genres, one of which was "emo" as he said. Emo in a sense that MCR or Underoath was emo, not the old-school way. YOUtopia has definitely the MCR feeling to it, not as much as LosT has though but that is not the point. This song has a bouncy riff, catchy chorus (similar style to Werewolf, the song the guys did with Lil Uzi Vert on his latest album) and the most 'amo' feel outside of the singles for me. Great song, definitely will be played during concerts.

3. Kool-Aid

The last single before they dropped the album, possibly the most balanced song out of the singles. Very catchy chorus, even the first few seconds feel like the "you're gonna die in the pit" fright that I usually feel at concerts. The breakdown is crazy, it has a very death metal guitar solo, what more do you want?

4. Top 10 staTues tHat CriEd bloOd

When I first read the title I thought this would be the most emo song on the album. I was not wrong. The style of 80% of the song is pure pop punk. There's the old school blink-182-like riff, the chorus sounds like it's from a 00's teen movie. Sometimes in the song there are cheeky blastbeat parts which I adored with Super Mario coin sounds that were hilarious. Oh and there's the Poliphia-bridge that made me smile. This is gonna be a top song on the album for sure for me. It's just so unapologetically fun, it's crazy.

5. liMOusIne (feat. AURORA)

The most out of place song for me, it doesn't even feel like BMTH. It sounds like they hopped on the Deftones-core hype train with the 8 or 9 string low tuned guitar riff that is more Sleep Token than BMTH. Still it's a banger, the bridge by AURORA is really catchy as well. The outro of the song is probably my favorite of theirs outside of One Day the Only Butterflies... on the previous album.

6. DArkSide

DArkSide was the fifth single, and in my opinion the most basic bitch one. It just sounds like they wanted to rip off Linkin Park's Somewhere I Belong again, this of course doesn't mean that the song is bad. In fact it grew on me a lot since it got released. The lyrics are very edgy which is expected from a BMTH song but this song was also a bit too cheesy for me, it definitely goes for the safe radio play option that the band still needs to be as popular as they are.

7. ​​a bulleT w- my namE On (feat. Underoath)

If you read this review carefully you might have noticed that I namedropped Underoath earlier. Well, they are featured on the album. This one literally feels like an old-school Underoath song but with Oli's vocals and the modern hyperpop spin that they do through the whole album. At some point Spencer's vocals felt like they were originally be Jordan's which kinda broke my heart a bit, since the Oli+Jordan duo were my favorite songwriters in the scene. If you're a fan of Underoath you should definitely give this one a spin.

8. [ost] (spi)ritual

Intro=Dark Signs by Sleep Token, Lyrics=Fully Satanic, title=clever wordplay. It's a 2 minute long interlude that has some guitars in it so most fans will not be disappointed in it, the biblical references are there for the edge of it but are barely audible, if you're one of those fans who recently got offended by their latest marketing ploy (the Jesus one), then I'd suggest skip this one. Also it's BMTH, they have always been against religion in general so... don't be surprised.

9. n/A

This song broke me. The first two lines are: "Hi, My name is Oli and I'm an addict. I'm here cause I'm not quite all there". The guitar work is very simple in the beginning, reminiscent of Where is My Mind by the Pixies, but you can sense that something big is coming. This is the most personal song on the album, I haven't heard Oli open up this much about suicidal thoughts and addiction since Sempiternal. It also has a grotesque feel to it as he discribes how he would kill himself in various ways (jumping down a building, making love to a chainsaw, etc). This one is also pretty emo, but not just because of the lyrics, by the sound as well. Definitely will be landing on my playlist.

10. LoSt

Undoubtedly my favorite song on the album, i've been constantly listening to it since it came out last year. If there is a thing called "I'm not Okay"-core this is it. The breakdown is the funnest one through the whole discography of the band, the chorus is a clone of the aformentioned MCR song and the pacing feels like a pop punk banger with an easycore breakdown. Still 10/10 for me.

11. sTraNgeRs

It's kinda crazy to think about how much time passed between each single and the album itself. This song will always remind me to coming home from my ex-girlfriend whom I've completely alienated from at that point and humming to myself: We're just a room full of strangers. I know that the original meaning of the song is quite the oposite, it has a sense of unity and togetherness but still, my personal story overwrote this one for me and I cannot help it. This was the second single and in my opinion didn't age as well as the others but still a very good song.

12. Rip (duskCOre RemIx)

Some segments of the lyrics of this song can be found throughout the teasers BMTH put out in the past few years. This one is a purely hyperpop/heavy pop banger that is very common towards the end of the record. The pacing is again very pop punk and emo, but it has those glitchy effects and even a dance beat at some point. It's a fun one but the poppiest out of the whole record I think. Oh and there's a woah-woah post-chorus which is again, very pop punk. Also despite the sound is very happy and hyper the lyrics are very self-loathing and depict the disappointment Oli had with himself after relapsing during COVID. Just a not so fun fact.

13. AmEN! (feat, Lil Uzi Vert and Daryl Palumbo of Glassjaw)

The heaviest song on the album that was premiered live in my home country last year. I'm really disappointed I missed that and am still salty about it. Anyway this song is the same as Darkside for me, it's not a bad one, in fact, the old school BMTH fans will like this one the most, but for me it's not as exciting. I'd rather listen to the random bullshit they come up with than Oli trying to replicate Suicide Season style vocals which tore his throat up back then. But back to the song, it also grew a lot on me, the choir breakdown will always be fun and the lyrics have very much the Hospital of Souls kind of feel and edginess.

14. [ost] puss-e

Speaking of randomness, this one is about the female genitalia. it's an interlude (as every song beginning with [ost]). I think it's the biggest brain fart they had since the Music to Listen to... EP dropped. The callout before the breakbeat is literally: What would you do for pussy?. It's a random noisy shitshow that people will be mad about just like they were during the amo era but this is still unfathomably BMTH at their finest.

15. DiE4u

It's crazy to think about but this song came out almost 3 years ago, back when Survivor Horror had its album cycle and people were still mostly locked up in quarantine. The lyrics are about addiction again, not surprisingly and were inspired by Oli's relapse that I mentioned earlier. During COVID he made some very bad choices that lead him to get on ketamine for the first time since I think 2013 or so. This song is basically him singing to the drugs, it's a little fucked isn't it? It definitely didn't hold up as well as LoSt or AmEN because back in 2021 Oli was still trying to spread the idea he had about making a new genre called heavy pop. Well, some of his ideas are on the album so I guess he was successful.

16. Dig it

The closing track of this massive album and again we're back to the topic of self-hatred. Oli is again very disappointed in himself to a melody that is similar to Something in the Way by Nirvana. Maybe that was an inspiration, since that song also screams self-loathing. Then there's the modern pop drumbeat, but still the instrumentals are very lowkey, it's clear that the intention is to focus on the lyrics. The closure of the track gets heavy as usual and we hear Count Your Blessings era vocals again. There is even a little snippet at the very end after a little silence, that the AI playing the album failed which means the album is over.

Overall it's a great album, I think Oli and the band ended up with a terrific record, however I still miss Jordan's work on some of the songs. Maybe some ideas were scrapped, maybe even reworked at certain points but I'll always miss his handprint from now on I think. All of the fanbase will be happy with this record I guarantee it.

[tia-amorosa]

Sunset Died - The Returnee Household

Allies

The first thing Blair wanted to do was get a warmer jacket. So she went to her house, picked out something suitable from the many clothes provided and went back outside. She walked slowly along a path that was supposed to lead to the beach. But there was no beach anymore. Instead, there was a steep cliff that made access to the sea impossible. "This is so… sad."

Her thoughts wandered to the time when everything was still fine, the time before the city was destroyed. She loved working in the office at the police station. When she wasn't working, she enjoyed spending time with friends. And many of them died in the disaster. The beach was always a popular meeting place in summer. Blair stayed for quite a while and looked into the distance.

While Blair prefers to enjoy the silence, Cyclone has already arrived in the gym and runs into familiar faces that are barely recognizable. "Wait a minute, young Cy Sword?"/ "You recognized me, hello, Mister Bunch? You've lost weight"/ "haha, yes. Oh man, I didn't want to believe it at first when they told us you were back and now you're standing in front of me.". Cy noticed that Jack even seemed relieved to see him.

"it's really good to have you back, Cy. I don't think there's a cleverer head than yours"/ "hnhn, don't say that, there are other clever people out there too. But I've put my head to good use here by now. Has anything unusual happened at home this morning?". Jack thought for a moment. "Oh, yes! My daughter said she got a text message on her cell phone from an anonymous sender who…" Jack noticed that Cyclone's smile was widening. "Wait… do you have something to do with this?"/ "hnhn".

Jack couldn't believe it, but it wasn't a complete surprise that Cy, of all people, would manage to restore some things. "How did you manage that?". Cy looked around to see if there wasn't someone behind them who might be eavesdropping. "Everything was blocked here, by a jammer"/ "I knew it!"/ "shssh, quiet! I was able to paralyze the thing. And I now know everyone's ID, and don't worry, I'm not a snoop. only selected people have access"/ "Even the Altos?". Cy heard a slightly desperate undertone in his voice. He could well imagine that many people had become suspicious of the Altos by now. "No, of course not".

Jack was almost a little overwhelmed and gave him a big hug. "Man, you're really something, Cyclone. As a former member of the military, I'm not supposed to approve of this, but… unbelievable"/ "yeah, I know. But this information shouldn't necessarily get through to them"/ "but there's no way to avoid them noticing…"/ "yes, I know. But we have to try to use this privilege with the Internet for as long as possible".

"Do me a favor…". He handed Jack a small piece of paper. "This is the list of those who have access. Talk to them and tell them not to use the computers in public, or the cell phones, just At home. ."/ "My daughter has a habit of leaving her cell phone plugged in all the time. She only noticed it by accident. Thanks, Cy, I'll pass it on".

Cyclone knew which people he could and couldn't trust here. And Jack was definitely one of the good ones. He had hoped to meet others, but it was already getting dark and most of them were in their own four walls. So he also made his way back home, thinking about what to do next.

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

End of this Part

@greenplumbboblover 🙂