#so I literally cannot click on Maine

[turningvioletviolet]

This game is rigged against me as long as I’m on my phone lmao

[icewindandboringhorror]

I occasionally wish to reach out to old friends/acquaintances I haven't spoken to since high school/some other even earlier time in my life, but I have SOOO little social energy even for required tasks (like making dr phone calls or etc), I never have any leftover for extra ones, and it would be very odd to message someone I haven't spoken to in like 5 years out of the blue but then take 4 entire months to respond back lol.. My natural curiosity with nostalgia/collecting details of the past/etc. (literally if I were born a little earlier I would definitely do scrapbooking or something lol) is very strong, but, alas, not strong enough to beat out the Social Issues Demons apparently

[infictionalwonderland]

. . . fred weasley with it girl veela girlfriend (you, bitch!)

babe.

he is your biggest fucking fan

drooling and wide eyes when he even HEARS the click of ur cunty shoes xxx

genuinely stand by the fact he has shirts with ur face on

to him, you’re everything & more

no1 advocate for anything you do

‘yeah, love, you should do that. definitely’

‘mhmm, anything you want darling’

GRRRRRRRR 🐱🐱🐱🐱

eats up every single one of ur cunty fits

you look so damn good babe and he makes sure you know it

‘you’re the most beautiful girl i have ever seen, love. seriously’

‘if you don’t stop smiling like that, im gonna be forced to take you against this fucking wall love’

OOPSIES

HOW DID THAT GET THEERRREEEE

knows the whole school and literally the whole world is obsessed with you and is here for it

(but is also not)

he loves that people know how special you are bc you fckn are

but like

when he sees whores staring at you with gaping mouths and starry eyes he’s like

she’s MINE.

doesn’t enjoy people staring at his girl

10000% the type to wrap his arms around you and pull you back into him, genuinely acting as a shield for the stares

pd(bloody)a!!!

he’s a big big fan

obvs if it makes you uncomfy, he’ll understand and back off! your comfort is his main concern

HOWEVER

if you like it just like he does…

arm wrapped around you waist while you’re walking around

HANDDD HOLDING

he loves cuddling you

ur like his squishmallow 😘😘😘

he really enjoys showing you, all the time, how much you mean to him. how obsessed he is with you. bc he wants you to know

will readily admit to the fact he is very much on ur pink bedazzled leash xxxxx

he’s ur mf bitch ❤️❤️❤️

if ppl try and take the mick out of him for it he literally could not care less

and what???? it’s true

he would kiss the ground you walked on if you asked

if he notices you getting uncomfortable w ppl staring at you, he’s not afraid to confront them (if you want that)

‘yeah, mind looking anywhere bloody else mate?’

‘if you done leering at my girl you wanker, feel free to piss off’

if people happen to not heed his warning, he’s not afraid to fight someone for you

(one time he did and arthur got called in to ‘deal’ with his son—he gave him an approving hug and a chocolate frog)

you & the weasels are like this 🤞

ginny does not resent you bc ur a veela, IN FACCTTTT she actually really looks up to you and admires you, knowing you’re so much more than ur beauty

she’s wants to BE you

(apart from the dating her brother part, gag)

george calls you ‘little legend’ he thinks you’re great for making his brother so starstruck and mushy-goey all the soft things.

genuinely cannot wait for the day you become his sister in law 🤧

after ron got over his creepy little crush, he’s grown to see you as someone he adores (even if he would never admit it) and someone he really feels safe with

you make him feel wanted in his family and actually loved—for that, he loves you more

charlie thinks ur an absolute riot 😭😭

the first time you met you had pulled a prank on the twins, turning their skin lilac and giving them unicorn horns with fuzzy purple fur everywhere (human unicorns)

he’s adored you ever since

bill loves you like a little sister and fleur and you are legit best mates!!!

arthur holds you very dear to him as he sees how good you are for his son and how much of a good individual you are in general

molly was slightly hesitant initially

BUTTT then you knitted her and arthur winter hats for christmas, sent them with a cutesy note and some sweets and she knew she’d love you

(she really, truly does)

#fredweasleyisurseximinion

he wrote that himself xxxx

[clarenecessities]

He-man.org will close in 5 days.

He-man.org has been a staple of the Masters of the Universe community since the early days, originating as an email list that worked to document episodes before anything (not footage, not lists, nothing) was available online. It grew into a sprawling, multi-faceted beast of a thing, including an encyclopedia (an in-house wiki), merch lists, a marketplace, forums, anything you could think of.

Several years ago now, the main site went down for updates/maintenance. For a few weeks, we were told, maybe months. The forums remained open for fans to communicate, and barring a period of downtime earlier this year things were going smoothly.

Yesterday, the owner of the site, Val Staples, announced the site would be closed on November 14th, 2023. Six days later. We are currently attempting to contact him, to see if he’s interested in selling, and if he means closed as in “no new posts” or closed as in deleted entirely. Regardless of its eventual fate, the archiving of these forums is essential to preserving the history of the franchise, the fandom, and the brand.

TO SHE-RA (and MotU) FANS SPECIFICALLY: I have personally used these forums to answer questions that could be answered nowhere else. Had I not had access to them, I would never have been able to prove that Purrsia was fake, or found so much unpublished concept art, or discovered that Scott “Toyguru” Neitlich personally wrote Catra’s MOTUC bio (even if he’s put off answering my questions about it for over a year now). Forum members have conducted interviews with the likes of Jon Seisa, Cathy Larson, Janice Varney-Hamlin—essential figures in the very foundations of POP, and those interviews revealed and recorded priceless information for future generations (me! you! us!) to find. Did you know Cathy Larson named Adora? That she originally pushed for “Dorian”, after her own daughter? We cannot let this treasure trove disappear into the ether(ia).

TO THE UNAFFILIATED: Please help. Pretty please. If you’ve ever liked my art or my writing or my haphazard blogging, ever, at all, consider archiving just one board. Just one page. Literally anything helps. I am spiraling into madness & this is my library of Alexandria. The mythical one that was totally unique and persevered nowhere else and was destroyed in a single cataclysmic event. Pretty pretty please help.

HOW TO HELP:

Archive.org has several ways to upload shit but most of them are longer term than “a few days” so we’re focusing on two (which can be run simultaneously): Save Page Now, and browser extensions. From their help page:

1. Save Page Now

Put a URL into the form, press the button, and we save the page. You will instantly have a permanent URL for your page. Please note, this method only saves a single page, not the whole site.

We want to keep outlinks and screenshots wherever possible. The Archive does not keep your IP address, so your submission is anonymous.

2. Browser extensions and add-ons

Install the Wayback Machine Chrome extension in your browser. Go to a page you want to archive, click the icon in your toolbar, and select Save Page Now. We will save the page and give you a permanent URL.

One plus to installing the extension is that as you surf around, when you run into a missing page they will alert you if we have a saved copy.

More extensions, apps, and add-ons:

Firefox add-on

Safari Extension

iOS app

Android app

I strongly encourage you to use these tools even if you aren’t helping with this project/after it ends. Documenting and preserving information is essential in this day and age & The Internet Archive is at the heart of it. Please support them however you can.

I’m serious about paying you, though I may need more communication with folks I don’t know so we can coordinate/verify shit gets done. I think this is a worthwhile pursuit in itself but I recognize your time is valuable & like, people gotta eat. DM me if you’re interested and we’ll talk. I may need to adjust pay depending how many people bite but I’ll do what I can

[affectionatecorpse]

I'm once again getting overly philosophical over horror movies, so here's a study of the death angels from A Quiet Place as observed by a very enthusiastic animal loving veterinarian.

Every time people talk about death angels, it is, understandably, about how violent they are. These creatures are brutal and merciless, and will tear apart anything that makes too much noise. Hence the title of the movie.

Death angels are frankly terrifying, and show no empathy towards the creatures of the planet they invaded. No living thing is safe from them.

... so here's why they COULD be--

Look. Death angels are simply not suited for our planet. It's a noisy, chaotic place full of noisy, chaotic animals. From humans, to raccoons, to birds, to cats, nearly everything in our world is a potential trigger for a noise sensitive animal such as these.

But that's exactly what they are. Animals. And no one seems to remember that fact. People talk about them as though they themselves are sentient, anthropomorphic monsters, but the way these creatures act mimic many real life animals. Animals that don't belong here, but are trying to survive here. On a noisy planet covered in water, which they despise and cannot swim in.

Death angels are completely blind by nature, as seen in many other creatures such as cavefish, moles, and my personal favourite, the olm. Due to a lack of sight, they very clearly use echolocation in the film, to scan their surroundings and... well, not get dead. But echolocation is far from their only tool, as their ears are the strongest asset they have.

Their ears are INCREDIBLY sensitive. Just the slight ticking of an egg timer when heard from their perspective in the first film, is like a pounding drum in their ear. This is fine in a naturally quiet planet, but if a very subtle tick is that loud, then imagine the rest of the noise. Screaming. Explosions. Crashing. Little toy planes. Holy CRAP, that's gotta hurt.

Sounds that loud would definitely cause extreme hearing problems from pressure over time, and easily result in lifelong illnesses and disabilities such as deafness, infection, and so forth, if not stopped. It's going to be painful. It's literally bursting their ear drums inside their heads, and you can't explain to an animal why it hurts. You cannot rationalise with wildlife about treatment and self care. An injured and scared animal is always going to turn hostile, no matter how docile they may be normally. You can't explain to a lion with a knife in it's belly that you can stop the pain if it just doesn't attack you. You can't explain to a death angel that it needs to go somewhere more isolated instead of just destroying the source of the noise to shut it up.

Going to backtrack here a sec. Remember how I mentioned echolocation being another asset this creature has? Which means the slightest movement, the tiniest breath, can immediately allow you to be seen by it. With ears that good, too? It can see you from ages away. It knows you're there. Which means they DON'T attack for sport.

'Evil' is a concept rarely seen in nature. Yes, a lot of humans can be evil. And yes, many creatures can be too. Animals hunt for sport as well. Cats, for example! Although even then, I wouldn't describe it as evil. Calling the death angels evil implies they're attacking out of malicious intent, which just isn't true. In moments of panic, they'll destroy. But they are fully aware of humans around them.

Humans need to breathe, and can't stay perfectly still very easily. The death angels would be able to see our main cast at several points, even when they're being quiet. They don't attack whenever they locate a sign of life. For example, the scene in the basement. Being that close, whether the water was running or not, that alien absolutely would've heard Evelyn and the baby's sharp breaths. It didn't care. It was clicking at them almost curiously before it heard the bang of the silo, to which it ditched them to stop the sound.

This scene is a great example of why they don't kill for sport. Injured and young animals are especially easy prey for a creature built so strong and nimble. Evelyn is shown to be terrified of the mere presence of this thing, but it never actually does anything in the scene. It moves about. Ignores her movements in the flooding water. Investigates the baby. Clicks curiously at her while she backs away. It moves slowly and on all fours, when we know while aggressive, they will stand up on their hind legs (unless sprinting) and move very fast.

This implies it was in... well, not a submissive position, but a nonthreatening one. It wasn't baring it's teeth (as best it could), it had it's claws tucked up and unused, and was in no way in a primed-to-attack mentality. Until the silo made a loud bang. And even then, it could've quickly sliced up the two in the basement before running off, but it DIDN'T. It just left, without a moment of hesitation.

Let's also acknowledge the anatomy.

This is a carnivore. With sharp teeth for ripping apart prey, sharp claws for defence, and thick armour for protection from it's natural climate, as well as strong, long legs for running, this is absolutely a meat eater. The fact it's so well equipped makes me wonder if their natural prey is just as dangerous as them, which is why they have such tough skin. Or if they themselves have something above them in the food chain.

They seem to be pack animals, as usually others aren't far behind when one is about. Such as the trio by the Abbott house, the few at the docks, the ones by Emet's hideout, and even that group sliding down the building in the Day One clip I keep seeing as a gif. With their knack for running included, I wonder if they function like lions? Blending into their environment back home, clicking to hear prey, then the whole pack going on the chase when their target is vulnerable, in a way.

I got distracted. My point was, in a year, all the bodies from past victims vanished. All those people in the town who were swiped left and right just vanished from the town. They couldn't have decomposed in such short time, which means something moved them when it was safe. Something like a carnivore needing food after it felt comfortable in the silent aftermath. The argument that they do it for sport is one I see all the time, and it's just not true.

Everything needs to eat. Carnivores need to eat. Animals need to protect themselves from suspected danger. They never eat on screen because whenever they're on screen, they're surrounded by noise and are DISTRESSED. Have you ever had a sick pet? Most of the time, it won't eat when it's ill because it's too stressed, uncomfortable or in too much pain. When having their ear drums assaulted, a death angel isn't going to sit down with a cup of tea and a grilled cheese. Also, I won't add it because there's blood, but in the scene with the old man screaming in the woods, after it attacks, you can actually see it go back on all fours and sniff about the aftermath, like a hungry predator catching prey to eat. This was probably the first and currently only on screen proof of my claim.

By all means, not all animals are meant to be tamed. Jordan Peele's Nope said that best. Yet I can't help but wonder about the individual. Every animal is completely unique. Some will tolerate more than others. Due to their realistic nature and the similarities to actual animals, in specific circumstances, could they be befriended?

Anyway keep an eye out for A Quiet Place 4 where someone has a pet one that wears doggy ear protectors and accepts meat in exchange for pets-- /j

[fuckyeahdindjarin]

III ║ Edgestitch

Joel Miller x F!Reader

{ Part II: Threads | Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist }

Rating: M

Summary: You wear those jeans for Joel when you see him again at the baby shower at Tommy and Maria's - like he asked you to.

Warnings: Spicy thoughts but not explicit, sexual tension, sexual innuendos, flirting, mention of food and drink, some language, shy!reader, reader has a nickname related to her job, soft!Joel, no use of Y/N

Word count: 7k

Notes: It's here! This one was a long and winding road as I mentioned in Behind the Seams, I'm so relieved and excited when it all finally clicked and fell into place! I'm absolutely blown away by the love you guys have shown Joel and Pin so far, thank you, there's no greater motivation for a writer ❤️ I hope you guys enjoy the chapter!

‘Damnit, Lucy,’ you mutter under your breath, this close to stamping your foot and pouting at the door that refuses to lock up. 

Lucy may be your best friend, but you’re not blind to the fact that she literally cannot be trusted to get anything done around the shop. It’s been two weeks since she promised to get the locksmith to come in, but here you are on Friday evening, wrestling with the key that refuses to turn the last quarter of an inch in the faulty lock.

‘Hey, Pin!’

Glancing over your shoulder, you force a wane smile at Tommy, who has his hands full with a cardboard box at the bottom of the stairs. ‘Need some help?’

‘Yes, please,’ you reply sheepishly.

You nod at the bottles of wine that clink delicately against one another as he sets them down. ‘Getting ready for the party on Sunday?’

Tommy steps up to the door and wriggles the key left and right experimentally. ‘Yeah, you comin’, right?’

‘Yes, with Lucy.’

‘Good, the more the merrier!’ He makes a face at the door lock, which is not cooperating with him either. ‘You should get someone to look at it. Probably time for a new one.’

‘Lucy was supposed to get Andrew to fix it, but you know Luce.’

Tommy yanks the door knob backwards hard as he twists the key. There’s a grunt of metal, and a triumphant aha! when it finally turns, the internal mechanisms of the lock sliding into place with a satisfying click. 

You nearly fall onto your knees in relief. ‘Thank you so much, Tommy. You’re a lifesaver.’

He grins and deposits the key in your waiting palm. ‘You can ask Joel for help, you know. He’s handy with this kind of stuff.’

You blink, blindsided by the seemingly random mention of his brother - but his dimpled smile tells you otherwise.

His brother, who was so solid and broad under you on the studio floor, just a few days ago. His brother, who you can still feel pressed between your thighs, in your bed in the dead of night. His brother, who has taken up residence in your mind, waking or otherwise, since he sauntered out of your shop with that infuriatingly attractive confidence when he asked you to to wear those jeans for him again on Sunday.

Joel has existed solely and safely in the parameters of your workspace for the past fortnight and a half, with only Lucy bearing witness to whatever it is between the two of you. Having to suddenly deal with any mention of him outside of it, especially with that knowing arch of Tommy’s eyebrow, has you completely flustered. It doesn’t help that his eyes are uncannily like Joel’s, a gorgeous deep brown, expressive and sharp, though the mischief sits a lot closer to the surface in the former’s.

Mercifully, your brain unscrambles long enough for you to reach the conclusion that of course, Joel must have told Tommy that he invited you and Lucy. It’s their party, after all. Surely, he doesn’t know anything else -

Or does he?

You’ve been quiet for too long to say anything about it now, so you clumsily change the subject, stumbling over your words. ‘I, uh - I was just wondering what I could bring on Sunday?’

Tommy graciously lets you off the hook. ‘We’re a bit short on sweets, actually, if you bake.’

You latch on to that gratefully. ‘I do - what kind of cake were you thinking?’

‘Do you make a carrot cake?’

You perk up. ‘It’s my favourite!’

He flashes you a cheeky grin. ‘What a funny coincidence, it’s Joel’s as well - the only way to get carrots in him.’

Your pulse spikes with adrenaline at the unexpected tidbit Tommy drops in your lap, and you greedily squirrel that little fact away, slowly colouring in the Joel-shaped space in your head.

With a wink, Tommy bends down to pick up the wine. ‘See you in a couple of days, Pin!’

At least you have the decency to wait until he turns the corner - once he does, you sprint across the road to the Jackson Grocer’s and clear out their stock of carrots for the day.

There are many things about Jackson that throw Joel. 

The plentitude after years of rations. The safety, which comes off more jarring than comforting.

But most of all, it’s the sounds. The kettle on the boil and the pop of the toaster in the morning when Ellie gets ready for school. Friendly chatter on the high street. Laughter. It still makes him jump when he hears playful shrieks in the neighbourhood playground, blood rushing in his ears and sending him halfway across the house for his rifle before he remembers where he is.

Where he is not.

It was always loud in the QZ. Loudspeakers blaring, alarms wailing, the indistinct hum of conversation and radio through paper thin walls in the slums at all hours of the day. And he was always listening - for danger, for trouble, and everything in between.

And then all that noise had blown up, literally, with the State House. With Tess.

Joel finds it hard to remember those first few days after leaving Boston behind. Mostly the raw cuts on his knuckles that wouldn’t heal and the ring in his right ear from the explosion, lingering like a pesky fly. 

But he knows it was Ellie who broke that silence first. And once that door was kicked down - 

‘Fuck no, dude!’

His face snaps up and he scowls across the lawn, the stern reprimand rolling off his tongue like second nature. ‘Ellie!’

She’s sitting with her friends, crowded around her most prized possession of the moment, a boombox she found in the thrift shop a couple of months ago and begged him to buy and fix up for her. 

Not that she needed to do much begging, he caved far too easily. It plays a bit wonky - the bass too heavy - still, it does the trick.

The teenagers around her cower immediately, but she defiantly stands her ground. ‘What?’

‘Watch your language,’ he barks, no real bite behind it.

She rolls her eyes so hard her head falls back, and he has to press his lips together to not smile.

It helps him sleep better at night seeing Ellie fit right in - at least one of them has. She doesn’t hate going to school half as much as she pretends to, the routine of homework and chores anchoring her to small town life. She’s even volunteered to help out at the farm, spending most afternoons in the stables with the horses.

There are times when he wonders to which extent all this is a coping mechanism. But well, at least she’s coping.

And while Joel still hasn’t made up his mind about Jackson, its townsfolk seem to have unilaterally made theirs up about him. The wary whispers and watchful stares have given way to cautious gestures of acknowledgement, some even bold enough to throw a good morning in his general direction as he walks down the street. 

They nod at him now as they file into the garden party, still keeping their distance, but not as much as he would’ve liked.

The expectant parents have gone all out for the occasion. Several tables are lined up end to end in the middle of the garden, filling up with potluck dishes as guests arrive. Tommy lords over the barbeque, the brisket having been smoking since dawn, with chicken, bacon and homemade sausages sizzling on the grill. Maria is in her element, flitting from well wisher to well wisher with a protective hand over her rounded belly, making sure everyone has a drink and a loaded plate in hand.

Joel hovers in no man’s land, dodging the crowds and sipping on beer that has long gone flat, trying to remember the last time he celebrated anything. 

Well, he supposes dinner parties at Bill and Frank’s count, as far and few in between as they were. Not that they ever celebrated anything specific, per se - they didn’t need a reason beyond the fact that they were all still alive and kicking. Bill, bless his soul, did make a mean roast, and Frank used to host with enough flair for forty instead of four. Tess had a black dress she stowed away at the back of her closet for these parties, and a red one that she saved for the really special occasions -

A strong hand on his back jolts him forward and out of his thoughts, spilling lukewarm beer over his fingers.

‘Havin’ a good time, brother?’ asks Tommy jovially, cheeks stretched with joy.

‘I was just now,’ he grunts pointedly.

Tommy grins. ‘Lighten up, man. Get drunk, be merry! You’re gonna be an uncle.’

‘Don’t try to butter me up. I ain’t babysittin’ for you.’

Thumping his chest in mock hurt, he asks, ‘What about all those times I babysat Sarah, man?’

Joel gives him a long-suffering side stare. ‘Please. You used to hire that college chick ‘cross the street to babysit whenever you were supposed to. Then you’d hit on her all night long.’

Tommy chuckles. ‘Damn, your mind’s in better shape than I give you credit for, old man.’

He can’t help a smile. ‘But for all your devious plans to get into her babysitter’s pants, Sarah did love her Uncle Tommy.’

He goes quiet for a beat and takes a sip of his beer, his eyes softening. ‘I think about that girl every single day, y’know.’ 

Joel nods, staring into his own beer, and it suddenly strikes him that he’s missed the shape of her name on his lips. ‘I know.’

Tommy nudges him on the shoulder. ‘I can only hope my kid will love their Uncle Joel just as much.’

Eventually, he harrumphs, ‘If they do - I’ll think about the babysittin’.’

Tommy chortles just as the backdoor to the porch swings open with a loud creak.

Joel spots you easily, trailing one step behind Lucy. You’re holding onto a cake on a round wooden board like a security blanket, shoulders tense and eyes wide at the noise of the festivities. Spotting Maria, Lucy bounds down the stairs, leaving you hesitating at the landing, and -

You’re wearing the jeans he asked you to.

Something primal swells in the cavity of his chest, between his ribs - a pride that is distinctly male.

Tommy shouts, ‘Pin! Over here!’

Joel shifts on his feet, swallowing thickly as you approach. If your shy smile is anything to go by, he’s not the only one feeling the nerves.

His brother gives you a careful hug around the cake and plants a kiss on your cheek. When he steps aside, Joel hesitates, uneasy with having an audience, his palms suddenly clammy with indecision.

Does he… hug you? He can count on three fingers who he’s hugged for the past twenty years, and he’s sorely out of practice. A kiss is an option, but the way his eyes dart to your mouth, it’s dangerous even entertaining that thought - 

Tommy elbows him in the ribs and puts him out of his misery. ‘Why don’t you kids catch up, I think the brisket’s burnin’. Have fun tonight!’

Joel can feel the tip of his ears turning red as he stands there with his drink, one hand shoved in his back pocket, not knowing how to do this. How to entertain. Clearing his throat, he stammers, ‘Uh - can I get you a drink or somethin’?’

You give him a small smile, lips moving in an answer too quiet to reach him over the music. Rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly, he admits, ‘Sorry, I can’t hear you. I’m uh - a bit deaf in my right ear.’

You look apologetic, speaking up, ‘I’m sorry - I didn’t know.’

With a shrug, he jokes, ‘It’s ok, I’m a bit broken all over.’

You pinch your lips, and he recoginses that face - he knows that you want to disagree with him. But you hold your tongue, skirting around him to his good ear, and he stoops to close the distance, even though he doesn’t need to.

Your breath brushes his ear. ‘I’d love a drink, but I want to put this cake away first.’

‘Yes, of course - sorry, don’t know where my manners went.’ He puts his unfinished beer away and takes the cake from you despite your protests. The potluck table is packed to the brim, so he gestures towards the house. ‘It might have to go into the kitchen for now.’

You follow him, side by side with one polite body width between you, past bands of neighbours and friends catching up, the fairy lights catching your eyes and the well-kept lawn crunching beneath your soles. Unsurprisingly, you feel the weight of curious stares on your back as you go - Joel is still very much a novelty around town. Neither of you speak until he holds open the backdoor for you to slip inside.

It’s quiet in the kitchen, the muted conversation outside a low hum through the double-glazed windows. The free-standing island is already chock full of all kinds of baked goods and pudding, and Joel has to move an actual jelly castle (which wriggles precariously) to free up space for your contribution.

Dusting his hands, Joel turns to you. ‘That carrot cake?’

You nod, keeping mum.

‘It’s my favourite.’

‘I know - Tommy told me,’ you confess with a bashful half-shrug.

His warm eyes crinkle at the corners. ‘Talkin’ about me behind my back, sweetheart?’

Your breath quickens at the sweetheart, and you wonder if the thrill of the nickname will ever wear thin. Emboldened, you tilt your head to one side and tease, ‘Why? You like the attention?’

A smirk on his lips, he steps into your space, the very proximity of him stealing the air from your lungs. ‘I might if you’re not careful.’

And there you are again - with nothing more than a dozen words exchanged and even more unsaid - on the brink of something, right where you left off on the workshop floor.

‘Wanna grab a bite to eat?’

Tucked away in an intimate corner of the back porch in a wicker chair, Joel surveys the party with a seriousness that is borderline comical. 

The strategist in him clearly favours the higher ground the porch affords him so he can keep an eye on everyone and spot whoever approaches from a distance. His seat is an easy three steps to the door, an escape plan in his back pocket. For all his stillness, the intensity is unmistakable, if slightly out of place in a baby shower.

Two dirty plates licked clean are stacked on the coffee table between you, piled high with bones and leftover gravy, the delicious food sitting warm in your stomach.

‘They’re comin’ closer,’ Joel complains, taking a long gulp of his beer.

‘I guess they figure if I’m talking to you, it means that you don’t actually bite,’ you quip.

‘Will they back off if I make you cry?’

Your shoulders quake with a chuckle. ‘I think you’re too much of a gentleman to do that, Joel Miller.’

You’re taken aback by the flash of heat in his answering glance, as if there’s something he wants to say. But then, he changes his mind and leans back in his chair, one palm resting on his spread thighs, and he nods towards a couple standing close to the barbeque.

‘Who’s that over there? He lives on my street.’

‘That’s Andrew. He owns the only hot tub in Jackson.’

Joel splutters, ‘A hot tub?’

‘To be fair, it came with his house, but he managed to connect it to the water a few months ago.’

He snorts. ‘Not very communist of him to divert public resources for a private hot tub.’

‘Let’s just say Jackson is a commune with American characteristics,’ you say diplomatically.

He arches an eyebrow at you. ‘A cynic, sweetheart?’

You reply matter-of-factly, ‘We all know how communism ended.’

Fuck. He takes a swig of his beer and swallows hard. A woman after his own heart.

‘You want to keep him on your good side though. He’s really handy with electrics and the like.’

He shrugs. ‘So am I.’

You turn to him, surprised. ‘Oh?’

‘I was a contractor in another life.’

He notices your attention flicker to his hands, before you catch yourself and look away bashfully. ‘That’s good to know.’

‘You need things fixed?’ he asks, and promptly wants to kick himself for sounding so hopeful to be of service.

‘Here and there,’ you say with a dismissive wave. ‘It’s not important. It’ll hold up.’

He runs his tongue over his bottom lip thoughtfully. You have to work on asking for things, but it’s ok - he doesn’t push you. He files that away for later.

Glancing across the yard, he catches Ellie’s eye, who’s arching an inquisitive eyebrow and pointing straight at you with all the subtlety of a flying brick. He knows he should probably introduce you at some point, but he’s not ready to share your attention with someone else just yet, let alone the nosy teenage loudmouth.

Joel gives her a firm shake of the head, to which she responds with a disgruntled I’m watching you gesture.

Ignoring her for now - and knowing that he’ll pay for it later - he asks you, ‘And who’s that in the red dress?’

You crane your neck until you spot her. ‘Ah, that’s Patricia. She’s the dance teacher down at the school.’

‘Why’s she starin’ at me?’ he mutters.

You shoot him an amused grin. ‘Why, it looks like you’ve caught the fancy of our local femme fatale.’

He scoffs. ‘Should I be worried?’

‘Well, she’s been married and divorced three times since she arrived,’ you answer with a straight face. ‘The last one just disappeared. Never found his body.’

Joel stares at you in stunned silence, until you let out a poorly contained giggle. He grumbles, ‘Havin’ fun pullin’ my leg, sweetheart?’

‘Just a bit,’ you tease.

‘I liked you better when you were shy,’ he ribs.

You shrug. ‘Too late. You don’t scare me anymore.’

Glancing the other way, Joel sits up in alarm at the flutter of crimson fabric. ‘Shit, I think she’s comin’ this way.’

‘Time for carrot cake?’ you prompt.

He’s out of his chair quicker than you’d expect his knees would allow him to. ‘Let’s go, sweetheart.’

The state of the kitchen island stops you in your tracks, while Joel lets out a low whistle behind you. ‘Jackson really turned out for this party, huh?’

‘Well, your brother and sister-in-law are pretty popular around town,’ you quip.

You didn’t think it was possible, but every square inch of the kitchen island is now jam-packed with sugary confections, stacked on top of one another.

‘I can’t even find the bloody cake,’ you laugh, literally searching high and low as you skirt the parameter.

On the other side of the island, Joel tosses a dry good luck in your direction and puts the dirty plates and cutlery that he brought in into the sink with a clatter, turning on the hot water. You stutter to a stop opposite him, gawking at how his broad shoulders fill the frame of the window that sits in front of the sink, before your gaze inadvertently trails south - over the nip of his waist and the hem of his shirt skirting the back pockets of his jeans. You find yourself wishing he’d tucked the tails in.

Rooted to the spot, you watch him unbutton the cuffs on his flannel shirt and push up the sleeves to the crease of his elbows, baring his strong forearms. Your mouth goes dry despite the wine you’ve been sipping on all evening, peering at the sinewy muscles flexing and straining as he lathers the plates with an offhand familiarity, his thick fingers dwarfing the sponge in as he works the grease stains. 

Making quick but thorough work of the washing up, Joel dries the plates and then runs the tea towel over his big hands and wrists, catching you staring as he turns around. If he knows you’ve been watching all along, he lets it slide. Tossing the towel to one side, heat prickles under your cheeks when he sidles up to you with the clean plates.

The sight of this man doing something as mundane as dishes really shouldn’t get you this hot and bothered.

‘Is that cream cheese?’ he asks conversationally with a nod at your cake, which you have found sitting on top of a tall plastic caddy, a chocolate cake inside.

Having to consciously unstick your tongue from the roof of your mouth, you’re surprised your voice doesn’t shake. ‘It’s not carrot cake without it.’

‘Where did you get the cream cheese? Never seen any ‘round town.’

Almost bashful, you admit, ‘I made it.’

His eyebrows shoot up. ‘You made cream cheese? How?’

‘It’s not that big a deal. It’s just milk, lemon and salt,’ you say, trying to downplay it. Your arms are definitely not aching from the hours of straining and beating and whipping.

‘And the walnuts?’ he asks.

‘Someone I know grows it,’ you say vaguely.

Joel hums doubtfully. ‘Ain’t seen any walnut trees in town.’

Biting your bottom lip, you can pinpoint the exact moment he figures it out, brows drawing together in a frown. ‘The only ones I’ve seen are outside the walls, ‘round the north side of the gates.’

Knowing for a fact that you’re a terrible liar, you don’t even try. You choose to ignore him, idly smoothing the frosting on top with a clean knife, trying not to flinch at the weight of his gaze on you.

‘Sweetheart, please tell me you didn’t go outside just to get walnuts for me.’

‘Not for you,’ you shoot back unconvincingly, flustered. ‘I made the cake for Tommy and Maria.’

Lies. You know it. He knows it.

His shoulders stiffen, the fabric of his shirt bunching with the movement. ‘You can’t just go outside like that, y’know, there could be infected ‘round -’

‘Joel, I’ve been living here for years, I know what I’m doing,’ you argue huffily, not expecting a lecture, of all things. ‘I’m not stupid.’

He shakes his head. ‘Ain’t what I’m sayin’, Pin -’

‘Just leave it, ok?’ you reply sharply and, signalling an end to the conversation, you slice into the cake with an aggressive stab - not noticing that it is hanging over the edge of the caddy below. 

You squeak when it flips unceremoniously, and on pure impulse, you pitch forward to stop its upward trajectory, meeting it mid-air with an ominous splat.

‘Fuck!’

To his credit, Joel barely skips a beat, quickly but calmly grabbing hold of the cake board and pulling it off you, setting it down on the counter, while you gape in dismay at the damage done. 

The side of the cake that made contact with you is smushed in, most of the thick frosting now painted all over your front, from your neck down to the lovely, thin cashmere top that Lucy picked out for you for the party.

You really hope there’s a big guy up there watching, because someone might as well enjoy this mortifying brand of comedy you keep dishing out around this man.

Two seconds more, and you’re pretty sure you would’ve burst into tears for lack of knowing what else to do - but without another word, Joel takes the lead, wrapping a firm hand around your wrist and pulling you out of the kitchen. 

You gratefully let him.

It’s none of your business really, but it comforts you that Joel’s obviously here often enough to know his way around the house.

You glance around the dimly lit room where he deposited you on the edge of a neatly made bed, water trickling in the adjoining ensuite. When he returns, he has a small, wet towel in his hands. Towering over you, the low lights don’t quite reach his face, but you can see the way his gaze slips downwards, carefully, as if he’s afraid to startle you.

But he doesn’t - not even when he slides the crook of his fingers under your chin, tilting your face up and opening up your throat.

His lips twitch wryly. ‘What a waste of perfectly good cream cheese.’

Despite yourself, a laugh escapes you at the absurdity of the situation. ‘Must something always go wrong whenever we’re in the same room?’

The corner of his mouth teases a smile. ‘Never a dull moment with you, sweetheart.’

You smile back, but it falters when his eyes burn in a quiet but unmistakable smoulder. 

‘May I?’

You’re not even sure what he’s asking. But he can ask you anything in that raspy, low baritone, and there will always only be one answer.

At your nod, Joel drags the tip of his index finger down the column of your neck, and your lips part when it glides over your windpipe - pressing just hard enough for you to feel the pressure - collecting the velvety frosting as it goes. 

Then, holding your eyes, he sucks the cream cheese off his fingertip, a hum deep in his throat. ‘Delicious, sweetheart.’

You’re sitting down, but somehow, you still feel your knees give way at how he smacks his lips at the sugary aftertaste.

He looms closer, bending at the waist and for one moment of madness, you think he might lean down and lick your neck clean. 

At the prospect of those plush lips and the burn of his silvered, patchy beard on your skin, your head tilts further back invitingly. His pupils dilate and his nostrils flare, like he’s picking up on what you’re thinking, and his eyes dip to your mouth.

But he doesn’t.

You don’t even have time to be disappointed before Joel carefully gets down on one knee in front of you, one palm landing on the mattress next to your hip for balance. Knowing the state of his joints, you want to ask if he needs a pillow, but instead of your mouth, it’s your thighs that part to make room for him. His chest keeps them splayed open, and you can feel the steady rise and fall of his ribcage with each breath through the denim. 

You try to focus on your own breathing as Joel presses the wet towel to your skin and mops up the sticky mess, his face set seriously as he cleans you up inch by inch. But all you can think about is how you can feel the imprint of his fingers through the thin fabric, and how the span of his hand can easily fit over the column of your throat -

You don’t realise you’re leaning into him until he draws back when he’s done, and you tip forward, chasing his touch. His knee groans as he stands up to his full height, and he nods towards the bathroom with a wait here in his eyes.

The water is scalding as Joel washes out the frosting from the towel, but he keeps his hands under the tap, longer than he needs to. Wringing it dry, he takes a moment, wet palms gripping the cold porcelain edge of the bathroom sink, shoulders hunched over as he tells himself to calm the fuck down.

Except, he is calm. He’s held back, even when you looked at him with such straightforward, honest want that has him grinding his teeth.

Thing is, he knows you would’ve let him nudge you backwards into the mattress and crowd you between his arms, switching places the two of you were in under your sewing desk in the workshop.

He knows you would’ve let him wrap your legs around his hips, sliding his palms up the back of your thighs in those skin tight jeans - the sight of which is enough to make his head spin - and he knows you would’ve let him nip, suck, lick the tangy buttercream off your very neck. 

Not only would you have let him - you would’ve trusted him to do all those things to you.

That last realisation awakens something he’s not so sure he has a handle on. But he knows for a fact that with the whole of Jackson milling about downstairs, in the middle of his brother’s baby shower, is neither the place nor the time.

You’re where he left you when he steps back into the bedroom, your palms planted on the bed, your shoulders relaxed. The neckline of your blouse gapes loosely, teasing the soft skin of your cleavage.

Joel breaks the loaded silence with a bit of common sense. ‘You best get that top off and soak it in the bath before the stains really set in, sweetheart.’

You bite your lip hesitantly. ‘I - I don’t have anything to change into.’

‘You can have my shirt,’ he offers.

You sit up, attention piqued, when his hands move to the top of his flannel, thick fingers sliding each button out of the holes one by one. You know he’s just taking off his shirt, but you can’t help the way your jaw goes slack, watching shamelessly, the comforter twisting in your grip as you scrabble for something to hold onto. 

Joel doesn’t understand why you’re looking at him like that, but it’s so flattering to watch you watch him, eyes hooded and your tongue darting out to wet your bottom lip, like he’s giving you a fucking strip tease or something. 

Goddamn if it doesn’t go straight to his head.

A white undervest comes into view, inch by inch, as the shirt falls open, the thin fabric pulled taut at the seams over the broad stretch of his chest. When the last button is undone, he shrugs the shirt off with a smooth roll of his arms, and your jaw drops.

The undervest barely contains the bulk of him, and you’ll be damned if you know where to look first - the lean, solid line of his arms, or the effortless ripple of muscle in his shoulders - but it’s lower where your attention makes landing, and it takes you a second to realise why.

He’s not sucking in his tummy.

The swell of his abdomen sits above the top of his jeans, where the vest is neatly tucked in. You remember too well the brush of that soft strip of skin against the back of your hands when you were on your knees, cutting him out of his jeans; and then beneath you, straddling him under the sewing table. 

While there’s an undercurrent of self-consciousness in the way he holds himself, conspicuously missing is the self-deprecation that drew your ire the day he walked into your shop with a broken zipper. A tentative confidence has taken its place, which is at the same time so endearingly vulnerable, as if your reaction to the little show he gave you just now isn’t enough to assure him of what you’re thinking.

Your fingers twitch, yearning to reach out and tug him in by the front of his jeans, to untuck that vest and push it up and off. You want to snake your hands around his waist, hold him to you by the small of his back, and starting with his tummy, kiss your way across the soft belly - maybe with a cheeky scrape of teeth - up to his firm chest, his strong neck and to his lips. 

Or maybe, the calling southwards will win out. You’ll push him back to make room for yourself at his feet, nudging your way down his front with your nose, breathe him in, your hands finding his belt buckle and tugging it out of the loops instead. Never mind you've lost count of how many years it's been since you've wanted to do that, or if you remember how at all -

‘Pin.’

Your whole body jolts backwards when his voice pierces through your addled haze, low and raspy, snapping out of your sordid stupor almost grumpily - how rude of him to interrupt? - only to find him peering down at you with a lopsided smile. 

‘Get changed, sweetheart. I’ll be right back.’

Leaving your top to soak in the sink, you pad back into the bedroom in just your bra, and you stare down at his shirt laid out neatly on top of the bed.

You press your palm over where his heart would be, the flannel still warm. For one indulgent moment, you pick up the shirt and hug it to you. It smells like him - the outdoors, a crisp spring day, with a whiff of the barbeque smoke from downstairs. You bury your nose into the soft fabric, eyes closed, imagining the weight and shape of him in it. 

Even as you put your arms through the sleeves to button it up, you already know it will be hard giving it back. You leave the last three buttons undone and you’ve just tied up the too-long ends in a double knot when there’s a polite but firm knock on the door. 

‘You decent?’

‘Yes.’

You hope your face doesn’t fall too obviously at the sight of Joel wearing a shirt again, probably one borrowed from Tommy. He leaves it unbuttoned though, which is small consolation. The air hums between you with stolen glances and words unsaid.

‘You wore those jeans for me,’ he says suddenly.

The for me rolls off his tongue coated in his delectable Southern drawl and a heady satisfaction.

You decide to be brave and shrug one shoulder in a show of attitude. ‘It was the only thing I didn’t have in the wash.’

His grin makes your heart swell. Stepping out of the open doorway, his eyes trailing heat where they linger over you, he says, ‘You look good in my shirt, sweetheart. Real good.’

You bite your lower lip at the compliment, replying shyly, ‘I like this look on you too.’

‘Used to be Tommy’s uniform during our contractor days,’ he reminiscences. ‘I’m just missing the utility belt.’

Oh. You actually find it offensive that the fleeting mention of something as banal as a utility belt should get you going like this. You try to palm off a non-committal hum, but your body betrays you with a strangled choking sound that gives you away.

Joel arches an eyebrow and closes the gap between you with three long, deliberate steps, one finger skimming where his shirt meets the waistband of your jeans. He teases with a smirk, ‘What’s that, sweetheart? This contractor look doin’ somethin’ for you?’

Your cheeks grow hot as both his palms latch boldly onto your hips, and you swear you can feel the burn of his fingertips through the denim, a moan gargling in your throat as your ability to form words abandons you.

‘That a yes?’ he prompts, hooking his thumbs through the belt loops in your jeans and tugging your body flush against his, his stubbled chin brushing the sensitive crook of your neck as he speaks into your ear.

‘Joel,’ you whine, which is the best you can do right now, grabbing onto the open flaps of his shirt just to stay upright.

You feel the rumble that goes through his chest under your palms when he purrs, smiling down at you, head cocked to one side with a playful condescension that’s going to be the end of you. ‘Yes, Pin?’

Your mouth opens, but you’ll never get to find out what you intended to say, because you hear it first - his right ear is to the door - the thunder of rubber soles on the stairs, and you're lucky you manage to stumble two steps back before a deafening (no pun intended), drawn-out call of his name follows.

‘JOOOOOOELLLL!’

Ellie crashes into the doorway with all the grace of a bull in a china shop, slightly out of breath like she’s been running all over the place searching for him, already in the middle of a sentence, as usual. 

‘- also Maria says they’re doing a speech now and you’re not getting out of -’ she breaks off abruptly when she spots you, eyes wide and brows - all one and a half of them - reaching for her hairline. ‘Oh shiiiiiit.’

Running a tired hand down his face, Joel’s sigh sounds a lot like surrender. ‘Ellie, this is Pin. Pin, I’m sorry.’

You bite your lip to hold back a laugh at the resignation in his tone as the teenager wrinkles her nose. ‘Pin? That’s a weird name.’

‘Ellie!’

You smile. ‘It’s ok. Pin's just my nickname. I’m a seamstress at the Main Street Outfitters.’

Her face lights up excitedly, an open book if you’ve ever seen one. ‘No shit! I’ve been bugging Joel for a leather jacket for ages. Can I get one?’

‘Please,’ he interjects.

Ellie tucks in her chin and juts out her bottom lip at you. ‘Please?’

You demur. ‘Well, it depends on what you can trade in for it.’

‘My boombox!’ she volunteers without skipping a beat. 

Joel scoffs. ‘Good to know those three weeks fixing that piece of junk for you was time well spent.'

‘Sorry, man, but I can’t wear a boombox can I?’ she argues.

Giving Joel an amused look, you come to his rescue. ‘I’m sorry, Ellie, but we only take clothes in exchange.’ At the way she deflates, you counteroffer, ‘Or, you can come work at the shop on Saturdays for the next couple of months. Lucy always needs help out front, and you get a staff discount.’

He turns to you, protesting, ‘That’s very kind, but it ain’t necessary -’

Ellie cuts in, rushing up to you to shake your hand before you can take it back. ‘Deal! When can I start?’

‘There’s no rush,’ you reply with a chuckle. ‘I’ll get back to you next week.’

Stepping back, Ellie winks, ‘So - let’s put a pin in it for now?’

Joel groans at the terrible pun. ‘Get outta here!’

She cackles, firing triumphant finger guns at you as she retreats. ‘What? Pin liked it, she laughed! You’re no fun old man!’ 

She then pauses by the door, her eyes narrowing as she zeroes in on something smeared on your jeans. ‘Wait - what’s that white stuff on your leg?’

‘It’s cream cheese, you little shit!’ Joel snaps as your ears burn in embarrassment. ‘Out!’

She scampers out of sight, but then reverses into view, sneakers squeaking. ‘ - Are you wearing Joel’s shirt?’

‘ELLIE!’

She throws her hands up. ‘Alright, I’m gone, I’m gone! See ya Pin!’

Joel is the very picture of an embarrassed dad, rubbing the back of his neck with a wince. ‘Sorry, she’s a handful.’

You grin, ‘She’s just a teenager.’

‘You can say that again.’

The quiet seems louder after Ellie, and you restlessly pick at the sleeves. Lifting your eyes shyly, it seems the moment has passed - but Joel has other ideas.

‘C’mere,’ he hums, drawing you close again with one hand on your waist, peering down at you through his lashes. ‘This ok?’

At your nod, he brushes his thumb on your bottom lip, catching the soft plump skin, and your tongue darts out to taste him, his eyes darkening.

‘Can I kiss you, sweetheart?’ he asks, voice hoarse.

It’s been years. Years since anyone has cared enough to kiss you, let alone cared enough to ask if they could. And it’s as if he knows - you don’t know if you’ve somehow given it away, or maybe it’s just him. 

‘Yes, Joel.’

He coaxes you closer so that you’re pressed along the whole length of him. His big palms are warm and solid on the small of your back, holding you to him like he intends for you to have trouble standing after he’s done with you. 

The tip of his nose bumps into your cheek, nudging its way across and down, and your eyes slide shut when his shaky exhale grazes your gently parted mouth. Your breath hitches at the sweet burn of his beard on your jaw, fingers grabbing onto the scruff of his neck when he finally, finally brushes his lips against yours.

For a man as hardened as Joel Miller, he sure kisses soft. He steals a whimper straight from your throat with nothing more than the clever angling of his lips, the slow drag of tongue on tongue, and a growl deep in his windpipe that you answer with your own moan.

You don’t even have the presence of mind to be embarrassed when your shins knock into his, breaking the kiss with a laugh as Joel hauls you up into his chest, looking very much pleased that he’s literally made your knees buckle.

‘Sorry,’ you squeak, beaming despite yourself.

‘You really know how to flatter a guy, sweetheart,’ he answers, his voice warming you like a smokey campfire, steadying by his hands on your hips.

‘We should probably go before Ellie comes back for us,’ you say reluctantly.

Joel huffs, ‘Ain’t gonna hear the end of it if she does.’

‘Something tells me you won’t be hearing the end of it tonight anyway,’ you tease.

He chucks you gently under the chin, his eyes soft. ‘Let’s go, sweetheart.’

‘You’ve made yourself scarce,’ remarks Lucy as she ambles up to you with a glass of wine running low. ‘Where you been, hon?’

‘Had some trouble with the cake,’ you answer vaguely.

‘Sure,’ she winks at you, unconvinced. ‘If we’re calling him that.’

Right on cue, Joel strides across the lawn with three plates to join you. ‘Thought you might want some of Pin’s carrot cake.’

‘Such a gentleman, Joel Miller,’ chirps Lucy, making what can only be described as a 'thirst face' at you when his back is turned to her.

‘Thanks, Joel,’ you smile at him, letting your fingers graze his deliberately when you take the plate from him.

Saluting you with a forkful of cake, he says, ‘Thank you for bakin’, sweetheart.’

You watch as his lips close around the fork, dragging the cake clean off the slots, cream cheese smearing the corner of his mouth. He frowns, as if in deep pain as he chews, Adam’s apple bobbing when he swallows.

‘Okay?’ you ask nervously, your slice still untouched.

‘Perfect,’ he declares, already having a second, bigger bite. Knowing he doesn’t have a superfluous bone in his body, your chest warms at his words.

‘Wait a second,’ Lucy interrupts, bringing up her plate to inspect it closely. ‘Why does the cake look all wonky?’

‘Don’t know what you’re talking about, Luce,’ you answer coolly, taking a bite yourself.

Humming around a mouthful of moist crumb, the sweet carrot balanced out by the tangy frosting, you meet Joel’s eyes in the soft glow of fairy lights, and he flashes you a conspiratorial smile that makes you grin.

More notes: On Ellie - I was so so nervous about writing our resident teenage badass. I hope I've done her justice, I certainly had a lot of fun writing her introduction to Pin! If you're interested in a detailed deep dive into my process writing this chapter, I do recommend you read the Behind the Seams for this part ❤️

I also went back and forth on the tone and style of this chapter a lot. I wasn’t happy with the way it read, probably still not 100% happy. I like the way Seams and Threads were written better, but the fact is that this chapter is a very different setting and narrative compared to the first two, so I’m trying to be too hard on myself.

So, I have some ideas for where the story will go from here, but nothing concrete. As I've mentioned, I see this fic as more of a loose-fit series, so there's no overarching plot per se, but there's definitely a lot of room for future episodes of these two - I mean, they haven't even done the deed yet 😉

Comments, asks and reblogs are greatly appreciated as always! Thank you so much for reading, I'm so excited to hear what you guys thought of this chapter 😘

[snoozyjoosi]

Homicipher Episode 1 Guide

If you want the additional 2 rows/alternate routes of Episode 1, skip down to big red text.

I included the scenes of the correct storyline of Episode 1 which is may be unnecessary as they are easy to get through with minor trial and error, but I still included them.

Episode 2 Guide - https://www.tumblr.com/snoozyjoosi/766185589671444480/homicipher-episode-2-guide

Episode 3 Guide - https://www.tumblr.com/snoozyjoosi/766219102165598208/homicipher-episode-3-guide?source=share

Proceed down below the cut, scene order is from left to right and top to bottom.

Scene 1: Game starts, click on Mr Crawling

Scene 2-3: Interact with Mr Hood as per usual and leave through the door

Scene 4: Do not go down the doorless pathway on the right as it would result in death (unless you leave) and no progression.

The closed door on the right is where you’ll meet Mr Gap who asks to take your heart (in a very literal sense unfortunately), close the door on him or don’t open it at all (however I recommend that you do open it so you can get some words to translate).

Go to door on the left.

Scene 5: Enter the room after moving junk out the way and meet Mr Chopped.

Scene 6: You have the choice between either picking up the little guy or leaving him there.

Scene 7: This is the result of you leaving Mr Chopped and going downstairs without him, getting kidnapped and experimented on by Mr Silvair which is Ending 01 - Research (I personally do not mind being tortured by him.)

Scene 8: This is the result of picking up Mr Chopped and will progress the game further on.

Scene 9: A little language lesson with Mr Silvair and Mr Chopped, afterwards go into the door at the back on the room.

Scene 10: Now inside Mr Silvair’s torture room/lab, collect some more words if you’d like, then leave the torture room and exit Mr Silvair’s base.

Scene 11: Go up stairs, Mr Silvair bids you farewell, and continue on your journey.

Scene 12: There’s two ways to go to, and regardless of which side you pick it would result in the same outcome of being alarmed by a mysterious presence and running to the dark left side. With the two rectangular windows on the wall, the right one is empty while the left one has Mr Gap who cannot do anything with the bars in the way (haha loser), which you can use to collect more words.

Scene 13: Once went into the dark left side, you can grab a crowbar and hide or hide without any weapon behind the wall.

Scene 14: Mr Crawling pops outta nowhere in your hiding space.

Scene 15: It’s when you beat him in the face with a crowbar that you picked up before hiding.

Scene 16: Regardless whether or not you grabbed the weapon beforehand (you’ll still get it anyways) and hit Mr Crawling, you leave the room and head out to the hallway over to where the original red glowing right side is. Mr Crawling accompanies you.

Scene 17: You see the blood splatter on the floor, then sense someone approaching.

Scene 18: Mr Crawling alerts you of danger, talk to him and he’ll push you down to the ground and get on top of you (ykyk) to protect you. Get angry and push him instead then he’ll leave you to your death (understandable have a nice day) and you’ll get killed by Mr Scarletella.

Scene 19 and 20: Once Mr Scarletta leaves, you and Mr Crawling progress on the journey.

Episode 1 ends here.

For the additional alternative route/s of Episode 1:

(Note: To unlock this alternate route you must complete the main storyline first all the way to episode 5, so you cannot do this in a fresh save)

Scene 21: Start from Scene 1 and DO NOT click on Mr Crawling, wait for the time to run out. Then follow the arrows to Scene 22.

Scene 22: Keep following arrows. If you click on any characters you pass by, you will kill them.

Scene 23: Once you walked into a certain room (aka Mr Machete’s room) continue to walk and get stabbed by Mr Machete. Do not get up.

Scene 24: After staying down from Machete’s attack, you end up in a collapsed room with Mr Chopped inside who asks you to help him. Talk to him instead of killing him as that would lead to Ending 13 - And Then I Saw No One (this ending physically hurts me btw).

Scene 25: You chat with Chopped who tries to teach you more words. When the selection between two sentences comes up, it doesn’t matter which one you pick, Chopped will fall asleep.

Scene 26: As Chopped is resting, he talks some more and reminisces about Mr Silvair sadly, in which you pat him on the head (thankfully not killing him). He will then sadly complain that his hair is dirty and wants to go to the hair dresser.

Scene 27: There will be an earthquake/building collapse, but there’s a tunnel to exit through.

Scene 28: After climbing out of tunnel, just follow the arrow to the hairdresser’s room. This is the end of Mr Chopped’s Route.

Scene 29: Start from Scene 23, this time look up in time after being stabbed by Mr Machete which will result in getting killed by him which will end in Ending 12 - Sore Loser. However you can go beyond this ending for Scene 29 and 30.

Once gone beyond, you enter a fight with Mr Machete, make sure to click in time!

Scene 30: However despite hitting him in time, you will still end up losing, resulting in ‘Fight End’.

[xitsensunmoon]

Biting the Hand That Feeds au FAQ (Vampires + donor au)

Any general content warnings for bhtf au?

Yes. A normal amount of fnaf warnings, a normal amount of vampire warnings. For someone who doesn't know I elaborate... For vampire stuff, the most obvious ones are blood, hypnosis, bites, and animalistic behaviour. Less obvious - slightly suggestive themes. For fnaf - fnaf's usual violence, dark themes, a drop of gore and murders. The lore is uh. Very dark. I will try to decrease the amount of all of the cruelty but man. People who know, know how hard it will be. But I will tag everything properly so don't worry.

Is there a fic for your au?

No. And currently, I'm not even planning on writing one.

How do I find the story?

For now, we have two comics that are directly connected and one that doesn't have a specific place in the story but is about canonical lore.

[ 1 ] - [ 2 ] - [ x ]

In future, we will have more and I probably absolutely will forget to update this post so I recommend checking the tags. Here's the tag list

Tip: don't click the tag. Tumblr hides half of the results. Type it in the blog's search instead :)

Are the comics the only canonical thing about au?

No! I answer asks and draw a lot of doodles with bhtf au all the time and 90% of them are canon. You can, yet again, find everything in the tag list linked in the previous question.

Can I draw/write fan stuff for your au?

Yes, please!! I'm always happy to see fanart and fan writings and literally everything that you do! Just tag me when you post and use a fanart or fanwriting tag for au specifically so I don't miss it!

Can you include my characters in your story?

No, unfortunately, I cannot. The story is already written and I don't have any "space" for background characters either. Maybe it will change but currently, things are like this.

I asked a question with an interaction with my characters and I never got an answer, why?

I don't accept such requests. I'm not ready to spend my time drawing other people's characters for free(if I personally don't want to, of course)

Is there any limit to how many questions I can ask?

No, not at all! You can ask all you want just please make sure your question wasn't answered before. There is a big possibility I will just simply delete it if it was answered beforehand many times. Check the ask tag for it.

What about limitations? Any boundaries?

Please no questions about tickling🧍‍♀️ I got so many of those it already makes me uncomfortable. And for some reason, a lot of people send asks that include violence towards my characters and while I don't really feel uncomfortable with this I just idk what to answer and why are you even doing this lmao

What questions I should avoid?

Well, not really avoid but I will mention it anyway.

The things I have planned to draw right now:

- Sun and Moon and y/n's first meeting

- The creation of Sun&Moon

- Why S&M are sensitive to light and darkness

- How they hunt

So no need to ask me about these. I will show it, I promise.

What about sexual themes?

I understand that I post a lot of suggestive stuff and it may appear I allow such a thing but no.

You can create content with it tho, I don't mind for the most part. Just be ready that I may not reblog it, as my Tumblr is a SFW place. It's always 50/50.

Romantic themes?

I do draw some kisses and cuddles when I feel like it and you of course can send ideas for cute interactions but in the story we're very far away from it lol.

My question gets ignored even though I followed everything that you mentioned here. Why?

Answered in main FAQ.

Can I share the ideas for your au with you?

YES!!! Yes, yes and yes! I'm very open to that, like yes! The only thing that I definitely want to mention - you should expect that I actually can take your ideas and use them. Some people are protective of their ideas so if you're like this you probably should not share them with me :)

The information that you're using for your au is wrong.

Happens sometimes yeah. I know nothing about any medical stuff for y/n so I usually improvise. After all it's an au about robotic vampires man, this information is absolutely wrong. But! You're free to drop feedback/constructive criticism in my inbox!

Will be updated later

[ziocio]

So about the tail and floating in endless nothingness thing.

EDIT - IM POSTING A THEORY/RAMBLE IN READ MORE

ITS RELATED TO THE DRAWING

Click if you dare.

So you clicked.

Inhales...

OK. SO WE ALL KNOW ABOUT SOAP'S PHONE CORRECT?...

Now you see, in case you didn't notice, Soap deleted a photo of Microphone, going to the gallery where already deleted images get sent.

Now, those deleted images don't get deleted right away! They permanently get deleted 30 days after the initial deletion.

So obviously, Cobs deleting the contestants doesn't remove them straight away!

But then there's the tail story from Bow.

Bow wasn't deleted! She just died at the same time as Mephone4! Bow managed to come back due to not being apart of MeLife when Mephone4 came back. But she still in a way is connected to MePhone (refer to her shimmer screaming)

All of the contestants and creations Mephone4 created are connected to him. She is in no way different, floating in an endless abyss of nothingness.

This endless abyss is likely to be Mephone4's network or code!

It's the place where the Shimmer and Mephone code overlap.

Knowing how Shimmer is a highly powerful organic life source of light, who's to say that light cannot be projected again? Bow must've found something while in the code, something that resonated within her. Something that allowed Mephone4 to bring contestants to life.

This allows her to come back from death as a ghost. But what?..

It's definitely something related to the shimmers. May it be the lost Shimmer or something deeper.

Now, as for the deleted contestants.

With the context of Soap's phone, I don't think they would be in the main network anymore.

MephoneX deleting them sends them into a separate network than the creation network, where they're timed for deletion. Like a regular phone.

When Toilet unplugged the Me device, MeLife shuts down. But yknow what the Cloud is?..

That's the void!!!

It's a failsafe! It's not MECLOUD the place!! It's where it saves backups!

Perhaps Bow is a backup!!

If Bow WASNT a backup, she wouldn't be here.

ITS BACKUPS!!! THATS WHAT HAPPENED!

The moment the plug is pulled, everything is removed. But there's always backups.

If I'm not an idiot, this could include upcoming deletions.

So all the survivors of II17 (before the plug getting pulled) have a CHANCE to live!

They weren't directly sent into the deletion folder. Because the system backs them up on the software!!

The backups is what let Bow come back!!

Not completely, as she's a ghost. BUT, SINCE SHES A GHOST SHES MADE OF FULL LIGHT.

Light? As if she were like THE SHIMMERS.

Bow as a ghost isn't ELECTRONIC ANYMORE. BECAUSE SHE ISNT APART OF MELIFE!!

MEPHONE'S SHIMMER SIDE LITERALLY GAVE HER LIFE AS A GHOST!!! THATS WHY SHE CANT BE DELETED!!!!

So all the backups who didn't get X'd can ALSO return as ghosts if they know the tail method or just get lucky!

Something like that!!!

ITS THE SHIMMERS POWER WITHIN MEPHONE'S NETWORK THAT HELPED THEM SURVIVE!!!!

I assume in II18, the deleted contestants CAN be saved.

It's just a battle against the clock and Cobs.

But saving them won't make them real.

The shimmers power makes them real, not the mephone power.

I am so tired

[so-this-is-hell]

Ok I watched the leaked episodes

Let’s start with the positives! I love positives!

- Alex Brightman put his whole Alexussy into this shit oh my god, Pentious and Adam actually sound really good. Adam singing is also really really good. Alex can sing in character and carry things well and I’m glad now he’s part of the project. Because at least it’ll be bearable if I see the other episodes.

-Vox is actually weirdly really compelling? Like I actually ended up enjoying the vibe he’s got and his own voice grew on me, I know it’s not what people wanted but it works well.

-Nifty’s voice is pretty ok, so is Charlie’s. They’re some of the better voices of the cast, Alastor’s performance was uh. It wasn’t bad so there’s that!

-the opening exposition was needed but also a bit hamfisted- wait shit the positives- uh, I love the direction it went? Art wise?

-the songs are pretty good, they get you from point A to point B, and at least wasn’t Poison levels of cringe in writing.

-Charlie actually helping Pentious in episode 2 try to repent and be a better person actually feels nice, like a crumb of what the show should of be-

…

Ok let’s get to the point.

-the episodes clearly are trying to shove as much of the plot as humanly possible, to the point that you get whiplash.

-Angel Dust, Vaggie, Valentino, Husk all have voices that either do not fit, crack from the pressure to perform, or are trying so hard to mimic the previous voice that it’s actually worrying. The Angel dust one in particular I’ll get to when I get to the point.

-The plot starts with the main antagonist, literally telling Charlie that her plan is pointless and she should give up. There’s no actual “I want” song to counter this, unless you count the song where Adam mocks her for trying and tells her the exterminations will happen twice a year now.

-Pentious at least wasn’t a creep like i was fearing in the script, but he comes off too pathetic? Like I know he was pathetic and that’s the point but why the fuck does he want to be equal to the Vees now? Didn’t he want to rule over hell himself? I know the instagram had him crop himself into pictures with the Vees but remember those aren’t canon!

-I realized I was able to hop in because I had Wikipedia level knowledge of these characters to the point they click in my head (and enough to where Alastor, Charlie, Vaggie and Husk all felt a little off but that’s neither here nor there). But god I cannot imagine being a new person trying to jump into this show, this is bad. None of the characters get actually introduced outside of Charlie, the show references the pilot which isn’t part of the show so new audiences have no idea what they’re talking about, and the staff gets actually introduced in episode 2. EPISODE 2, TO PENTIOUS!? GIRLIE POP HAVE HIM COME EPISODE 1 THEN?

-Animation that’s either too floaty, too janky, too stiff or straight up traced. Which I don’t blame the animators for, Mammon was busy buying 10,000 dollars worth of peacocks to bother paying them more than a dollar per frame. There’s no charm here.

-Where did the fucking cat key come from? No I’m serious. Where did it come from? It just kinda exists now.

-Alastor’s commercial is just straight up MEAN and he’s often more mean than chaotic, which I know is ironic since he wasn’t a good person and I wasn’t expecting him to be but it’s to a point where it’s not even fun mean. He literally called Charlie’s endeavor “Daddy issues”. It felt like he was just there to slap Charlie in the face.

-Angel Dust rant is gonna be so long that I saved it for last.

I have to put it under the read more because of talk of SA! Fun!

Ok.

I’m saying this as someone who loved him from the pilot and was willing to excuse his behavior as “flaws he can work on” since Addict and everything else proved that there was more under the surface and he was a character that could change and grow and-

…

…

Angel dust, the rape victim… the guy running away from his abuser…

The Angel dust who has traumatic episodes so fucking graphic that he flashes back to them when he’s performing.

Saying “yeah no, fucking sexually exploit me! It turns me on!”

Viv, I know you’re not reading this but I mean this genuinely.

Fuck you.

As someone who’s family has experienced sexual abuse, as someone who’s family still has CPTSD because men in power decide to exploit them… how fuckin dare you make a character enjoy their own exploitation.

This isn’t me kink shaming a sexual character! He can be sexual and like sex! It’s never been the problem and hell it could of been liberation to have sex he deserves.

But no.

Let’s make the SA victim into the sexual harassment character, let’s make the SA victim the Stolas of the show where he wears down his love interest so thin that they have to give up.

Let’s make the SA victim still work under his shitty abuser, and make that into a joke as the abuser mentions wanting to rape everyone in the hotel.

Don’t pay to watch this show, I mean it.

Pirate it.

Hell don’t even watch it, find something better to watch. I’ve been binging anime as of late and I still like captain lazerhawk.

[joicecubes]

gravity falls is such a weird fandom because you’ve got a fandom that’s already existed since the show started in 2012, that grew with the show, experienced the big “stan pines has a twin brother” twist in real time, and then you have this influx of people who only got into gravity falls after the book of bill came out (aka me)

it’s not that i never watched the show before. i did!! i binged it on hulu back when i was 12 with a friend of mine because she was gobsmacked that i hadn’t watched it yet. and i definitely liked it, but it didn’t really click y’know? and for years i wanted to rewatch it, because i slowly started forgetting details about it and i remembered it being funny and charming, and THEN the book of bill came out. and the fandom had the most insane resurge. gravity falls took over the internet, or at least my internet. i couldn’t escape that damn triangle. i had to rewatch the show. and oh my god, i genuinely cannot BELIEVE the grip this kids show has had on me. hello ??? i literally watched this back when i was the target demographic. i was literally the same age as the main characters and yet now is when this adorable found family has me in its clutches? and its the OLD MEN that captivate me???? what the hell??

but like this sudden resurge of the fandom has created the strangest effect of like…. new people.. coming up with old ideas that already existed? like apparently the frankenstein au i made a post about was already a thing back in 2016. “frankenstan” (best fucking name. absolutely genius.) and its so weird being a new fan because i never experienced this stuff. there’s so much lore i’ll never fully understand because its been over a decade since the show aired.

idk rambly post for today i’ve just been thinking. if any gravity falls veterans have fun old fandom lore they’d like to share i’d love to hear it :)

[necroangelz]

welcome to my ocean tour, we'll sail across the sea for shore !!

self-indulgent edit

EMPIRES LIZZIE GRAPHICS! i fucking love these so much PLEASE LOOK AT THEM I BEG YOU TAP/CLICK ON THE FUCKING PICTURES AND STARE AT THEM PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEAS EPLESE EPLASE

art creds: one two three four five

rambling + resized versions and an extra graphic under the cut. like/rb and creds appreciated NECESSARY SPREAD THESE DAMN GRAPHICS AROUND BECAUSE WE ALL KNOW I DID SO FUCKING WELL appreciated! please don't forget to credit the artists if you use these. also don't tag this with anything that will imply you are c!Lizzie.

NOW PLAYING: Water You Thinking by LDShadowLady !!

if you somehow cannot fucking tell i have gone VERY FERAL over these i LITERALLY HAVE BEEN BLESSED BY THE MUSES WHILE MAKING THESE. these look so damn good! i plan to use these for rentries (which is why i made them in the first place, i ended up claiming .Co/empires on rentry so yk, gotta use the url!) and i am SO EXCITED!!!!

here are resized versions of the graphics (excluding the 3rd one), they're resized for rentry with 410 height!

nowadays when i post graphics their sizes are already reduced for rentry, but i just love these graphics SO DAMN MUCH that i have to show off the higher quality versions in the main post so it's the FIRST THING PEOPLE SEE.

the 3rd one was actually the 1st in the set i made last month, its kinda funny how simplistic it is compared to the other 3 HFJSHDJHSDJ i still included it though, like the more the merrier!!

.

[starpeace]

here for the mandalorian rant ☕️

um well the first episode of the brand new season of disney+’s flagship star wars show was entirely... filler. the dialogue was incredibly bad, not even written badly but as if no-one had written it at all. entirely flat and devoid of life, in a show with a faceless protagonist whose dialogue literally has to carry all the weight. din continues to have no opinions, no emotion and nothing to say

as for the plot, what even happened in this episode? we open with the mandalorian covert ritually giving a child their helmet, but this is not explored at all, it’s only there to be interrupted with a giant monster fight for absolutely no reason, as if this show has been written by six-year-old me livening up clicking my barbies together by grabbing my toy dinosaurs. din has conversations with the armourer and bo-katan purely to rehash the information we’ve already been given, partly because half of it was in a bad show the casual audience won’t have watched. neither of these characters is doing anything.

din visits greef karga, who is now discount lando “gone respectable” but instead of having personality he’s just really into gentrification and this is presented completely uncritically. din, a character most charming for being the beaten up mercenary underdog of the galaxy, suddenly hates pirates and disorder (well, hates would imply he shows emotion—dislikes pirates and disorder? is mildly perturbed by pirates and disorder?), and pals around with high magistrates who offer him a position as a cop/landed gentry (they actually use the words “landed gentry”). there’s a couple of meaningless unfunny comic relief scenes because this is all that grogu is here for now, complete with a reference to, of all things, the rise of skywalker. in what is apparently the main plot of the episode, which is, i repeat, the first episode of the brand new season, din takes up a fetch quest to get a random droid part for an absolutely laughable reason that does nothing but completely negate a character arc from season 1 and everything we have been shown since, just reminding you that not even death will be allowed to have emotion or narrative weight, or prevent disney from dragging back onto your screen anything that will sell. he doesn’t actually do this fetch quest, btw, he just gets given it, because apparently we have to do multiple episodes of this

did i get everything? was that the whole episode? oh wait there was the fight with the pirates in space. i forgot it because there was zero tension. those pirates also earlier wanted to... have a drink in a school with greef, i guess, in a completely baffling scene? i can’t imagine there was any point to this pirate bit except to put fight scenes into this filler episode and force the visual effects people to carry the entire lumbering weight of this show. one has to assume that otherwise the pirates would have had personalities or motivations. oh, also purrgils appeared in this episode, because this is the Star Wars Cinematic Universe, and you’d better watch all the interconnected shows so all your beloved characters can eventually come together to swap lifeless quips on screen, just like you always wanted.

a droid drops a statue’s head on top of a murder droid to stop it, purely so din can say, “now that’s using your head.” if you were wondering what i meant about the dialogue.

i don’t even need to get into the politics of the story they’re telling. i don’t need to humiliate it further by comparing it to andor. it’s just bad to watch on a basic technical fundamental level, and it’s not headed anywhere better, because they will be churning out this story for cash forever with no goal or meaning, under circumstances where i cannot seriously even imagine caring about star wars anymore. hope this helps!

[saturnaftertaste]

can i be riverpilled on main for a sec. if jughead has been controlling the narrative all along - which tbf we were told in the first five minutes of the show - then it makes sense that both betty and veronica are not representative of themselves, actually, but rather of himself. if we are to believe the story of riverdale, then two things are true: 1. that jughead has been in love with archie this whole time and 2. that jughead himself never wanted to be part of the narrative. think about it - each season, apart from 1 and 3, involve some kind of death/death threat for jughead (serpent battle, stonewall preps, rat…king? dead and sent to heaven for sabrina to retrieve him, literally booted out of the narrative). however, someone is still required for him to project his feelings onto. if you believe that riverdale is a story starting with the real events of jason’s murder, jughead takes on the role of investigator/narrator. this means he needs someone else to be the love interest: enter betty. someone he would’ve known since forever, and so all of sudden, as jugheads story starts, betty “réalisés” she wants to tell archie she likes him -> jughead’s own crush coming to light / vs. veronica coming to town and immediately catching archie’s eye (AND she resembles him, dark hair, dark clothing, pretentiousness galore) -> jughead wanting archie to want HIM. all of this explains why betty and archie never really click in s5, why betty repeatedly takes the chance to kiss archie despite her friendship with veronica being at stake (what jughead would do, if he could) why veronica cannot handle loneliness, why a lot of the time neither betty or veronica’s actions match up to the personalities that they actually have -> betty is repeatedly made out to be a “hero” struggling against her internal demons/serial killer genes despite everything that would condemn her as a bad person/friend whereas veronica tries to be better and still falls short at every turn -> representation of repressed homophobia re: how not confessing makes him feel better about himself, like he’s doing archie a favor vs. even thinking that he would LIKE to date archie makes him “feel evil”. in the end, betty and veronica don’t even actually care about archie, romantically; the one person betty misses more than anyone in the last episode is veronica (her long lost love) and veronica throughout the series spends more time trying to figure out what would actually make her happy even though she has archie and that should supposedly be the answer; this is their actual characters breaking through the shell of projection given to them by narrator!jughead. of course, this would’ve been solidified if cole sprouse wasn’t a coward and kissed kj apa on screen in the finale but you know what they say about the absence of a thing .

[a-998h]

Aska nd ye shall receive!!!!!

SAGau idea!

Reader almost always plays on co-op since they unlocked it alongside their three friends at scheduled intervals when they all have the time.

Said reader can also code, and to make up for the fact that not all their friends can buy or pirate (cuz of lack of cash or storage) games they have, they make mods they add in, then add out, alongside lots of solo beta testing.

(if this isn't possible IRL, suspend your disbelief)

Also theres no NSFW in this ask or being requested it's just jokes a la "3AM challenge gone wrong! Gone sexual"

also there's one implication of catholic trauma

plus capital letters

Sorry if anything makes no sense

Anyways—

===============

The Backrooms

*insert law & order audio*

Reader, playing Aether. "I added the Backrooms."

The Kaeya Main "Oh God."

The Childe Main "You added the what??"

"Same." «== they're playing and want to adopt Ferminent

"The Backrooms, this fictional idea that even an infant hitting their elbow wrong has the .000001% chance of—this is not mathematically accurate—teleporting you to this uncanny infinite realm, and the only way out is to somehow repeat what got you in there. And I don't think doing either on purpose is humanly feasibly."

"I understood none of that but okay." The four laughing ensued.

"okay but" wheezing "how— how are we gonna get in if you can't do it on purpose??"

"yeah that sounded like a little bit like an oversight."

"a LiTtLe BiT"

"literally just click that button that wasn't on the screen before."

"oh "

pop!

"oooh god. I'm getting catholic flashbacks!"

"oh shit you okay? Do you need a break or—"

"no. No I'm good"

"oh good"

"Any monsters to worry about?"

"yes." They all start laughing "Unless it's bugged in co-op because I only play tested this on single player!"

"backrooms gone wrong! We died! Gone sexual!"

"cops called!" "sixty nine hospitalized!"

"no!" Laughing continues and as it dies down: "we're escaping the backrooms, and I'm using the version with clues to reaching the next levels so we're not stuck here all day."

"so are you gonna help us oooorrrr . . . "

"you're alone, I'm gonna be following you around as you screw around!" The dying laugher peaks again

"you put us in this mess!" "you allowed me too!!!"

And then the loudest inhumane scream ensued, alongside theirs as they scattered.

"Kane pixels monster is real! Is this the Kane pixel backrooms? Oh good we're all fucked!!"

"and the wikidot!" Now only reader was laughing

"are you speaking a different DIALECT?!"

"pretty much" gasp "it's chasing meee!!"

"you deserve it! Daaance deluded puppeteer daaance!!" And then the reader ran in their direction from behind "you used me as a meat shield!"

"to demonstrate we all get four lives! If we die a fifth time, we start at the first level again, repeat!"

"yeah that reassures me" they say sarcastically, now controlling Zhongli "wait first level—?"

"there's arrows on the walls" "tell me where, I'm gonna carry this team"

==========

"What the heeellll, I can't even see any damage on the monsters" "you can't kill what cannot be killed"

"oh crap." Dies. Xiao takes Zhongli's place

"disorder? In MY backrooms??"

"it's more likely thank you think!"

=================

"Since when did you change from Kaeya to Ayato?"

"since when did you die all the way back to Freminet?"

"I didn't I got gooood!!" Spinning circled around them "Aahh!! Friendly fire! Friendly fire!"

Freminet is replaced with Gaming "I literally hate you"

"I love you too <3 AAAAAA—"

================

"guys help! I clipped into the walls!"

"you reap what you soooowww, fucker!" A sword strikes them "AAHHH!!"

================

"I think this is what the abyss feels like"

"I think that's an insult" "you've never been in there"

===many deaths & respawns later===

"you're a monster you know that right"

Giggling, "yes yes yes!!"

"we should do that again" "as the one with arthritis from carrying you idiots, I veto it."

"veto denied :D"

The Wither Storm

Playing Kokomi "what is it this time"

"Wither Storm :)" Reader, playing Fischl looks up at them

Playing Xinyan "uh oh"

Eula "on a scale of one to backrooms, how difficult will this one be?" "Collateral damage"

"and that's ignoring the proximity voice chat!"

Fast paced breathing "oh thank God that wasn't a thing in the Backrooms, we were just using discord"

"yeah it's a shaaaame"

"wait, we couldn't lay a finger in the Backrooms"

"you can kill the wither storm and still engage in friendly fire"

"thank goodness!!"

"so what's in store?"

"I'm gonna teleport us to another plane—because we don't want Teyvat harmed in the process—and we're gonna summon the wither storm and kill it."

"let's do it blind."

"yeeeesss!!!"

"did we not learn from the backrooms???"

"no we did not!"

"blind it is! Let's go!"

"wait—!"

===============

The Wither Storm is summoned! And like a standard wither simple shoots out skulls that destroys where it hits and inflicts withering on any living being.

"WHAT THE HEEELLLL???"

"LOOK WHAT YOU DID!"

"guys get building materials—!" Xinyan is replaced with Lisa who is far, far away from where the death was "And I withered away. And I'm away from everyone

"wow, I can't hear anyone!"

===============

Beamed up by the Wither Storm: "guys help"

"one I barely heard you, scream next time, two it's already to late for you." Eula is them eaten in one piece by one of the storm's mouths

"oh my fucking god it has a halo . . . It has like four of them" Looking up, far away from the group with Yae Miko, running away after a head faces their way

Far far away, Kaeya takes Eula's place in the plane

(Google image "crackers wither storm" to get what I mean in the last paragraph)

===============

"bestie!!" Reader controlling Hu Tao walks up a small hill

"Oh my God! Bestie!" Another Hu Tao looks in their ideection, they run towards each other "regroup! Regroup! We gotta regroup cuz the next phase is gonna begin!"

===============

"we did all that work and never even got a nether star" Sitting down with Heizou

"says who?" Back with Fischl ":O"

"the inventory . . . " They habitually jump with Kazuha

"oh, what's this I see?" sticking to Hu Tao after the Wither Storm

"who wants to read the description?" By now everyone opened their inventory to find a fourth of a white, purple tinted four-pointed star

"As testament to your suffering, a piece of the Nether Star joins you growing treasury!! A Devastation reduced to a mere chapter in your life"

"look, I get that after we're done you just remove the mod forever and leave it to gather dust, but at least, at least let us keep this even after removing the Wither Storm mod."

"and let us make a beacon while your at it!"

"sure why the hell not!"

"what the hell is a beacon and will I want in?"

"you all will!!"

"yes we do!"

"you don't even know what it does!x

"and neither do you!"

===============

Personally I imagine that Teyvat is a bit split on this.

On one hand, their Grace is far too happy with their friends who Teyvat deems as fellow Creators they play around with and they're playing around with their divine powers.

On the other hand, making mods and bug testing is time consuming and both of these take attention their Grace could be giving them instead.

They've heard plenty times the Creator complain about their world's spaghetti code, the Reader has cursed the creator—"who the hell made this?"—many times and Teyvatians interpret this as either the Creator having lost their memories or an act of self-hatred or a blend of both.

It doesn't help how Reader curses themselves whenever they find an error in their own code

Though I wonder the thoughts of Vessels from four worlds being used for four gods to meet in scheduled meetings either during normal gameplay or modded gameplay.

No but imagine some vessels doing things their code supposedly shouldn't allowed but it gets brushed off as a mod glitch 😭 lmao, like say, Kaeya muttering "Cataclysm . . ." To himself during the Wither Storm and only barely not being noticed

BRO WHAT WILL LIKE KHAENRI'AH PEOPLE AND ARCHONS AND OTHERS THINK WHEN THEY SEE THE NETHER STAR FRAGMENTS FORM A FOUR-POINTED STAR TOGETHER AKA THE NETHER STAR WHICH IN TEYVAT THE FOUR POINTED STAR IS THE SYMBOL OF KHAENRI'AH?

That's all I have in me today

feel free, not but pressured, to add your own ideas, add onto my ideas, etcetera, etcetera as you please, you got my absolute blessing

take your time as needed

Hope your having a good day!!

Thank you for sending me this.

This is awesome on its own and it must be shared.

But seriously, you're right. Teyvat wants you to be happy, but only with them. So they come up with a plan.

They're going to not work and basically annoy your friends off the game. They know I'll make you sad, but you have them to make you feel better.

If you friends are extra stubborn, then more extreme measures are but in place. Like bugging out, not ascending but taking the materials, and stuff like that.

Eventually when your friends quit the game, you go back to solo mode. Now you spend your time with them. While it makes them sad to see you upset about being able to play with your friends anymore, they'll be your new friends and be the best characters they can for you.

After, you'll be with them soon.

[bubbipond]

As promised (because I genuinely didn't do my analysis phases justice for tldhlb since it's airing) here is my companion analysis of the KluerXOab stand-off. As well as all Oab's actions specifically. To read Kluer's click here. Remember, if you have not watched the show or the finale don't read this! Spoilers ahead! a/n: anything with ** and an exponent are notes at the end where I explain something further. Mainly because I do not want that paragraph to get off-topic. Enjoy...this is a long one!

As I discussed in Kluer's post, Kluer's last dish is a means to an end for our fave foodie couple. In his post, I highlighted the significance of Kluer forfeiting the competition and why that was important. What I did not speak about is how important it was for Oab and Wan too. So let's get into Oab's feelings and actions.

I am not going to lie, I watch so many dramas that I do not remember if they added this bit into the series but; Oab does not like long beans in the novel. Kua Suay being allergic is a major reason for the restaurant but he also does not enjoy them. That is an important aspect of the story because Oab doesn't like them, KS is allergic to them, and *¹*Wan likes his basil dish without them as well. That is, quite literally, how the show begins and plays a significant role in Wan meeting Oab and Kluer. As I said in the Kluer post, Kluer has been working with Oab for years and they have always had a great rapport with each other. They do not fight and it's pretty obvious that outside of Wan, Kluer gets the best treatment in the competition. He rarely gets yelled at and yes, a part of that is his skill, but it's also because Oab and Kluer respect each other. That's why last week Oab was worried about Kluer being upset with him. Logically, if he did not want Kluer to be in his life he could say who cares because he is giving up the restaurant but, he deeply cares about him so this is uncharted territory for the pair.

This circles me back to Kluer's final proverbial act, giving Oab long beans. I'll say it once, and I'll say it again, you cannot get me to hate Kluer, at least not in this aspect. He knows exactly what is happening and now, he sees there is truly nothing worth fighting for. Not Wan, not his friendship, and now not even the restaurant. Oab was obviously shocked but not because Kluer pretty much forfeited the competition, but that he was harsh doing it. Not only that, but, he did it knowing it was humiliating. A quiet stand-off between them that has been building for months.

That being said, Oab's reasoning for everything he does is not as black and white as Kluer see's it. I want to start off by reminding everyone that Oab has lost his love and passion for cooking. It was a mixture of many things. KS had left him and she was the only reason for the shop to exist. She not only helped pay for it but also helped run it and gave Oab a deeper passion for cooking. But now all that is gone and even with the return of KS, nothing changed. Except one thing did change and that was with the help of Wan. Unbeknownst to him he was reviving the love of cooking in Oab and creating a resurgence of passion in Oab (Oab was also doing this for Wan but I will speak on that when I talk about what I did not enjoy about novel vs show Wan). Oab knew that on some level Wan was lying to him. But like I said in one of my original posts, why would a billionaire plant someone who burns eggs on a cooking show? Right? For this reason and many others, Oab let his guard down. Whatever Wan was keeping from him, Oab gave chances to spill.

The thing is, him being a Methas plant is not the biggest problem here. It is his lack of full accountability for what all of that means to Oab. Two things are obvious during the last competition, both boys throw it. But for different reasons. In Wan's mind, throwing the competition resolves all their issues (it doesn't but that is one of the main things JJ berates him about, not being realistic). The issue isn't working for Methas. Anyone in that situation would understand that Wan, at the time of taking the deal, had no relationship with Oab or the restaurant. What is the problem for both Oab and Kluer is now you do and you can't forfeit your way out of still lying to them all. Losing on purpose does not resolve your sins; because that does not answer the most important question, was any of the attention, love, and care for Oab, Kluer, the other boys, and the restaurant real?

It's truly the only thing Oab wants to know. If all this was about money then, here, the restaurant is yours. But if you love me, tell me. Make me believe you weren't using my feelings for you to get what you wanted. But he doesn't and loses everything in return. He brought back Oab's passion and love for cooking but now he has to wonder if any of it was real. When the world he loved was slowly pulling him back in, Wan was at the center of it. But now he's back where he started. He's lost the person he loves in the shop they built (kua suay) and hopefully would *² *rebuild (Wan) together, but his passion is gone. There is nothing left to do. He is not thinking about Kluer or the integrity of the restaurant because now, what's the point? He tried so hard to keep it and give it to someone who would love and care for it. But the winner of all of that, and his heart, is also the one plotting to drag it down. Where Kluer thinks they should squash everything and tell Wan they know, Oab sees no point in any of it. If all he wants is money, he can have the shop. Nothing matters now because everything he thought he knew was a lie. So what exactly is the point of keeping the shop? Who cares if it becomes an apartment?

Everyone he has made food for, run this shop for, and given his all for, has let him down. He has made many choices in his life for other people, constantly putting others first. And both times it has bitten him in the ass. If the money means that much to him, enough to brutally break Oab's heart, take it. Because now, the shop really doesn't have a point. The shop's first great love left him and now his greatest love broke him. So what is the point of fighting for any of it?

Final Notes: ¹ Wan not liking long beans is an important thing to remember because it brings meaning back to the shop. Initially, KS's allergy is the main reason for its name and menu but now Oab has another reason to keep long beans off. It's both literal and theoretical. He literally has his greatest passion in the name and on the menu. So now, his passion (KS) is gone but a new one (Wan) arrives. It gave new meaning to the restaurant and even gave Oab a new lease on life. Which just added to the blow in the end. ² This is debatable because Oab did ask him to just lose so they could move on. As I said in Kleur's post, he does not believe Wan can run the shop or (at least) be the chef of it. It's nothing personal because Wan has a lot of business sense but he is not a chef, that much is obvious.

a/n: Anyway...I am sad the show is over. I loved their chaos! Guess I will just have to wait for PB2 for more SailubPon! I miss ALanJeff so come onnnnn (I say knowing it won't air til 2025 and it will inevitably give me anxiety).