#something about the topic makes me go insane for some reason and not in the good way like archaeology and museums do

[mochinomnoms]

I come with dumb thought: Twisted Wonderland has animals that are extinct or close to extinct in MC's world. If MC is a biology or nature nerd I can see them freaking out and crying tears of joy to know these animals or any other organism is alive in twst.

Also, do you know if zoos exist in twst? And if they do is it like... there's an event in obey me I may be remembering wrong but there was a popular aquarium but all the first were like... I think this was a vacation spot for them or a job I don't remember fully but they had a home they'd return to after a while. I imagine zoos in twst may be like that? Now I'm just imaging an animal getting paid in cash like a wolf or something and taking it to a store to but meat.

This calls in the question about how sentient animals are in TWST and the morality of keeping sentient creature in things like zoos and aquariums.

The main purpose of zoos and aquariums are conservation and rehabilitation, with the added bonus of education for the public. They are also valuable for researching the behaviors and habits of animals that might not be safe to do so in the wild. But like, our animals obviously aren't sentient to the level they are in TWST. Like dolphins and ravens are some of the most intelligent animals, able to use tools to a certain extent, from what I'm aware their interactions with us are the equivalent of interacting with a child. They also don't have senses of morality, and we can't really apply human morality to animals because they're animals and they only truly respond to their instincts and environment.

Like, animals in TWST have to have some level of sentience but is it equivalent to a child? Like, Lucius has some sentience, he asks Ruggie to get him tuna knowing that Trein doesn't let him have any, but is he able to really process why? Also, he's a familiar, so does that mean he's more sentient? Grim is also considered Yuu's familiar, but even with him being able to speak and use magic, he's still regarded the same way you would a child, and we wouldn't consider it ethical to keep him in a zoo.

There's also the fact that the King of Beasts and Simba's pride in Sunset Savana are regarded the same way you would a beastman, but does that mean that those animals that had just the right about of sentience developed into beastmen? The way they're discussedd, they're on the same level as like a god or hero from a myth or religious text (or as religious you can get in twst). This question is incredibly distressing to me and I don't know why it is each time it comes up.

Anyways, to answer your question, I think that there are some animals that are extinct here that are there. The wooly rhino, spix's macaw, and pinta giant tortoise are a few that I can think of that might exist in TWST. To be frank, the reason most of them are extinct are because of climate change, overhunting, deforestation and urbanization, but those issues haven't really come up in TWST I believe? Maybe those aren't issues in TWST? Magic probably negates the need for a lot of our industrialization, so I would say that there are for sure animals that are extinct in our world that still exists in TWST.

Anyways, pls no questions about animals and zoo in twst for a while it distresses me for some reason...

[moe-broey]

My therapist hasn't killed me yet 👍

[mangoofthesea]

when you read a fic that makes you feel a little bit (read: a lot) insane and while writing down a quote because it has made you feral you realise you read one of their other fics years ago and it made you feel insane in a much more chill way because it was before some of the most changing and not great years of your life and it just so happens its hitting that niche again but now in a way that shatters you to your core because 2 years ago you would not have related quite so hard to the words 'they haunt me' 'that is often what kindness feels like' and 'he feels like a child. He feels too old for his bones' but now you're much older than the 2 years and it's 1am and a fucking zukka fanfic author has reached into your chest personally in different ways with different fics 2 years apart on 2 different ao3 accounts (for me) and you're wondering what life even is at this point

[firewasabeast]

I wanted to write a little something with Chimney, Hen, and Tommy. Also decided to make it a fix-it fic. Enjoy!

Chimney clapped his hands together. “Look at us,” he said, smiling over to Tommy, then back at Hen. “The original gang, back together.”

“The original gang?” Hen questioned, her voice staticky through the mic.

“Yeah! Me, you, Tommy, all on a mission to save the world… or LA, at least.”

Tommy raised an eyebrow and shrugged, otherwise staying quiet.

“Wouldn’t ‘original’ indicate I was there from the beginning?" Hen asked. "I’m not part of your original gang, Chim.”

“Yeah, and technically neither of you are part of mine,” Tommy added.

“Okay, party poopers,” Chimney huffed. “I’m talking about my original gang that I started hanging out with first.”

“Hm,” Tommy hummed. “Wouldn’t that have been Eli?”

Chimney glared. “You know what, I’m not talking to either of you the rest of the time we’re up here.”

Hen rolled her eyes, but reached up to give him a pat on the shoulder. “We’re just messing with you, Chim. We get it.”

“Yeah,” Tommy agreed. “The 118 was a very different type of gang until you guys came around anyway.”

Chimney perked back up at that. “See! Like I said, the gang is back together.”

“Trying to prevent terrorists from blowing up half the city,” Hen reminded him.

“And trying not to make ourselves targets in the process,” Tommy added.

“Once again, party poo-”

“So,” Hen interrupted, “Tommy. How’s life been lately?”

“Fine,” Tommy replied, immediately suspicious.

Chimney pulled a fresh piece of gum from his pocket and popped it into his mouth. “We heard about your little tryst with our lover boy Buckley."

Tommy sighed. “Oh good. I was hoping my private life would be a topic of discussion for you all.”

“Hey, I can’t help it if I’m married to the guy’s sister.”

“Yeah,” Hen said, “and I can’t help it if I sit in an ambulance with a guy who can’t keep a secret to save his life.”

“Ignoring that.” Chimney looked over at Tommy. “What’s going on there?”

“Nothing.”

“Okay." Chimney cleared his throat. “I’ll ask again, and we’ll try the truth this time,” he said, just like he was talking to Jee. “What’s going on there?”

Oh, how Tommy wished they weren’t still ten minutes out from their location. He could use a nice bomb threat as a distraction right now. “Nothing,” he repeated. “There’s nothing going on. I- I thought… it doesn’t matter. There’s nothing.”

“And you’re good with that?” Hen asked.

“I have to be,” Tommy replied honestly. “Evan… Buck made it clear that he didn’t have feelings for me. It was just a one night thing.”

Chimney and Hen shared a look.

“Wait a minute,” Chimney said. “Buck told you he didn’t have feelings for you? Firefighter Evan Buckley of the 118?”

“Yes, Howie. Can we drop it now, please?”

“Absolutely not. We’ve suffered through months of this man moping over you being gone, and you’re going to tell me that he said he didn’t have feelings for you?”

If only helicopters came with parachutes.

“I don’t know anything about that,” Tommy said, his grip a bit tighter on the pitch stick.

“You don’t-” Chimney let out an exasperated sigh. “Have you tried buying flour lately? Sugar? Sticks of butter?”

“Howie, what the hell are you talking about?”

“I’m pretty sure Buck created a shortage with how much he’s been baking.”

“He’s not wrong,” Hen cut in. “Probably spent half a damn paycheck on eggs alone.”

“I still don’t know what either of you are talking about. Can I fly this bird without distractions, please?”

Chimney waved him off. “You’re doing just fine with the distractions. What we’re talking about is the fact that Buck is, for some reason, lying like an insane person!”

“Yeah, you’ve been the topic of most of his conversations since the breakup,” Hen said. “There was a brief window where he was upset about Eddie leaving, but then it was back to you.”

“Every time he thought about calling or texting you, he’d whip up some new recipe,” Chimney explained. “Most of them weren’t any good. I get triggered by the smell of bananas now.”

“The cinnamon swirl muffins were delicious though,” Hen reminded him.

“Oh, yeah, those were a hit.” He shook his head. “But that’s not the point. The point is, Buck is an idiot, and if he’s telling you he has no feelings for you, then he’s lying.”

“Or you misunderstood,” Hen added.

“Guys, this is…” Tommy sighed. “This is a lot of information to take in right now. Why don’t we focus-”

“It’s not like we were much help though,” Hen continued. “We did all kind of keep telling him not to call.”

“But that’s because we thought Tommy dumped him.”

“Tommy did dump him.”

“Tommy is right here,” Tommy reminded them.

Chimney crossed his arms over his chest. “Do you not have feelings for him?”

“What?!” Tommy exclaimed. “I never said that.”

“Well?”

“Ugh! O- Of course I have feelings for him. I wouldn’t have gone home with him that night if I didn’t still have feelings for him. I wanted to get back together.”

“He said no?” Hen asked.

“So you guys got the whole rundown on us hooking up, but the rest of the stuff gets left out?”

“I don’t get it, Hen,” Chimney said, turning to face her. “They both care about each other, both want to be together, but they’re both too stubborn and stupid to talk it out.”

“Hey!”

“It’s like a bad movie,” Hen muttered.

Somehow, they were still three minutes out from their location, and Tommy felt like he was going to go insane. “Listen,” he said. “Evan is… I’ve never had someone like him in my life. He’s funny, and smart, and hot, and he cares about people, and he’s just a genuinely good person. That- That’s why it wouldn’t work. He’s too good for me. He deserves better.”

Chimney stared at him, mouth hanging open with a confused expression on his face.

“Oh my God,” Hen said, shaking her head. “Chimney’s right. You’re both stupid.”

“Guys,” Bobby’s voice suddenly echoed over the line. “Did you all forget you’re on an open channel right now?”

A beat of silence, the group glanced at one another, then Tommy responded. “So, everyone could…?”

“Could hear this riveting conversation? Yes.”

Chimney sucked in a breath. “And everyone includes?”

“Well, the entire LAFD, LAPD, then you’ve got the FBI, NSA, and DHS.”

Another, unrecognized voice came over the radio. “The U.S. Coast Guard is here as well.”

“Oh yeah, and the Coast Guard.”

“And me.”

Buck’s voice caught Tommy off guard, and the chopper dropped a few feet before Tommy quickly regained control. He ignored the yelps from Howie and Hen.

“E- Evan, I-”

“They’re right, Tommy,” Buck began, getting right to the point. “Listen, I- I was angry that morning, and I said some things that I didn’t mean, but I- I wasn’t talking about you. You left before I could explain and I’m not… I don’t even know if I could have explained it right then, but, it’s not true that I don’t have feelings for you. I feel everything for you. You… Tommy, i- it scares me just how much you mean to me.”

Tommy didn’t know what to say, so he stayed quiet until both Hen and Chim reached over and smacked him on the arm.

“E- Evan," he stuttered, "I- I really wish we weren’t having this conversation with hundreds of government officials listening in. Do you think my fake mouth static could get me out of this?”

Buck laughed. “I told you, Tommy, it’s not that great.”

Tommy grinned. “When I’m done here, and our shifts are over, I’d… Evan, I’d really like to talk to you in person.”

“What are you doing Saturday?” Buck asked in response. “You free?”

Tommy took in a shaky breath. “I’m free.”

“Then be safe, Tommy, and come back to me.”

Tommy nodded, blinking away tears. “Copy that.”

[actual-changeling]

welcome back to alex's unhinged meta corner, today's topic: the chest touch at the pub. that scene has me in a chokehold for some reason and i still cannot stop thinking about it.

the first thing i wanna talk about is crowley's reaction, since this is the shorter part. he did not expect aziraphale to reach out to him like this and freezes for a second while aziraphale happily chatters away.

they were both walking and the hand on his chest stops him, so he comes to a stop right next to him while he was slightly behind him before that. his gaze also snaps to aziraphale's face, who is very much not looking at him.

they were having a conversation, but the touch essentially shuts crowley up and zira leaves him to get their drinks.

now, my question is why aziraphale does it. sure, it could just be an absent gesture since they're in a crowded place, just that he has never really done so before. i think it was very much planned, like asking crowley to dance and grabbing his hand later on.

a second before he actually reaches out, he also looks back to check whether crowley is where he thinks he is. that is the only time he does that, he was busy looking for a free table and miracles them one when he cannot find one - the look back is deliberate. especially since crowley is practically glued to his side, he has no need for confirmation, he can feel him brushing against him while walking.

the hand motion he does gets me, too. he is busy fidgeting with his hands like normal and has them clasped in front of him. aziraphale lifts them once he gets to "that is precisely the point", yet also already moves it slightly towards crowley, realizes he miscalculated where exactly he/his chest is, looks to check, then looks away again before actually touching him. am i reading too much into it? maybe.

i think it is his version of a little temptation. not only does it make crowley's brain short-circuit for a second, he also gets them their drinks and is now (or so aziraphale hopes) a bit calmer and will take the news aziraphale is about to give him better. the conversation at the cafe did not go entirely as planned, after all.

additionally, something i am not sure if other people have noticed or not is that aziraphale does not just touch crowley, it is a caress. he moves his hand down his chest.

the movement in order:

bar girl unfortunately moves in front of them, but you can clearly see the way his hand takes. to give you a direct comparison of the starting and end point:

a good point of reference is crowley's bolo tie but also the angle of aziraphale's arm while it is still visible.

the best part, in my opinion, is that aziraphale puts his hand right on top of crowley's heart. i think the symbolic importance of that is pretty clear and does not require any more explanation, although it makes me want to throw myself into a river. but that's by the by.

to summarize, aziraphale caresses crowley's heart chest to get him to calm down and not go insane over the news he is about to give him. he is also simply a bastard and knows exactly what he is doing to crowley.

as always, this is me going nuts with analysis, but i'm also curious to hear other people's thoughts on this.

don't tell my therapist about my unhinged meta posts or she will probably be very concerned for my mental wellbeing

[ordinaryschmuck]

With Gooseworx all but confirming that the Jax being an AI thing is bullshit, I personally want to talk about an interesting part about Jax that a lot of theorists used as "evidence" that validates the theory:

Jax's fourth wall breaks are a common topic brought up amongst the "Jax is an NPC" theory. After all, Caine broke the fourth wall in the pilot, knowing full well that the world of The Amazing Digital Circus isn't real and is talking to some unseen viewer as he introduces the Circus Crew.

There's also this bit of official art surrounding Jax's pin:

Where everyone else is inside their room, Jax is outside as pieces of the circus fall apart around him and all of reality to crash. Certainly lends itself to this idea that Jax knows he's not a real person and that his presence could cause great disruption to this world. And he doesn't care because none of it is real. Might as well have fun and cause chaos in a world that doesn't exist.

And I'll admit, all of this seems like valid claims for how the theory could be true. I saw it all and thought that it surely COULD be possible...but there are some things that stop me from being convinced.

Firstly, Caine breaking the fourth wall in the pilot doesn't really seem like an AI talking to the audience. It looks more like an AI programmed to talk to a player as a game boots up. What we saw in the opening could be more like a morning routine that he has to do at least once a day. Plus, we've yet to see any other NPC talk to the audience like Jax has. He explicitly called out the viewers in episode three, knowing full well he's being watched by SOMEONE. Or, at the very least, acting like he is. What do I mean by that? Well, to explain, I'd like to use one of my favorite fourth wall breakers as an example:

Deadpool, in most adaptations, knows fully well that he's a fictional character. He'll talk to the readers/viewers, move the camera around, and constantly talk shit to the writers/studio for occasionally screwing him over. It's all in good (Sometimes bloody) fun...but there's a canonical reason for this. It's not like She-Hulk where the fourth wall breaks are a way to tell HER stories HER way. You see, Deadpool...is just fucking insane.

No, really, that's the reason. Due to the trauma of gaining his powers, Deadpool's mind breaks and he's led to believe that he MUST be a fictional character. In comics, he actually gets voices in his head that makes him think he must be some comic book superhero, and the movies implied that something similar happened given how he never broke the fourth wall ONCE before getting his powers. This means him breaking the fourth wall could be seen as a coping mechanism. After all, it's better to believe you're a fictional character designed to entertain some invisible audience than believe that all of the shitty things that happened to you and people close to you is just a cruel joke from the universe.

Sound familiar?

Going back to the pilot, remember how Pomni's first instinct was to say that the Circus was all just a dream? To her, it's better to live in a lie that everything around her isn't real than to accept the reality that she's stuck in digital purgatory. Jax very well could be going through something similar, but unlike Pomni who seemed to just accept her reality, Jax never did. The trauma of being stuck in the Circus had led to his mind breaking just like Pomni's, Kinger's, and anyone else's. It's just that, for him, he thinks he's coping with it better because he discovered the secret that no one else did: None of this is real.

They're not actually people trapped in some hellscape while an AI unintentionally tortures them. They're all just fictional characters whose tragedies and silly antics are used to entertain viewers. I mean, it's either that or they're real people forever trapped in the circus with the closest thing to death being a full, psychotic break as they give up their sanity because they no longer want to exist in this hell anymore...But that possibly can't be true. Because if that IS true, then Jax has to face that he's a real person stuck in a real, awful situation that he can't joke his way out of. So, it's best to think nothing is real and nothing they do matter. So, might as well have fun with it.

Going back to the pin...

I don't think this is damning evidence about Jax being an NPC. Actually, it perfectly captures who he is as a character. He knows the circus isn't real. He even thinks HE isn't real. So instead of grappling with that, Jax lets himself believe that if nothing is real than nothing he does matters. He can break things, ruin lives, and assist in torturing the others in the circus. It's what he thinks will make the show more entertaining, even though all he's really entertaining is himself so his mind doesn't break more than it does.

Now, could the same apply if he's an NPC? Well...maybe. Gumigoo definitely proves how far someone could fall when they're told their world is fake. He was about ready to give up on life because he didn't think he had one. If Jax was an NPC, I could see him having a similar break, but going in the far opposite direction where, instead of giving up on life, he chooses to live the way HE wants it. Instead of being some one-off NPC for a lame adventure, he could go off on adventures of his own and ruin the lives of others now that his is thoroughly ruined.

However, Gooseworx makes a good point: "...a lot of people come up with theories based on how unexpected they'd be, and not because they make sense or align with the show's themes."

If Jax is an NPC, it would harm the overall message of the show. That there's meaning to be found in a stagnant life, and you find that meaning with people close to you who make that life worth living. Jax represents a sort of foil to that idea, with his way of coping with the madness being pure chaos and breaking others. It's his coping mechanism, and it works because it shows how human Jax really is. They're ALL human and they have human desires and wants, with the Circus pretty much stripping that away and leaving them...as they are now. They're emotionally broken, their sanity is decreasing, and some of them are losing all sense of self. By making Jax an NPC, it would definitely be surprising, but it would take away from that idea. It no longer makes him a human facing his own tragedy but instead an AI that's just as broken as Gummigoo. More than that, it gives the others an easy out. All the crew has to do is tell Caine that Jax is an NPC and POOF! No more annoyance. So making him someone who HAS to stay with the others and they're forever forced to deal with him also adds more to THEIR tragedy and torture.

Jax being an NPC is an interesting theory, but I don't think it's one that SHOULD be true. To me, it's more fascinating watching Jax treat the world around him as meaningless knowing he's a human instead of a rogue NPC breaking everything. And Gooseworx made it clear how they feel about it. Now, could it potentially be a mislead to get fans off the trail? Genuinely...I don't think so. That sounded very "I don't like this idea so it's not gonna happen" type of response. Still, we won't know until the show wraps up. Anything can happen, but don't get your hopes up if a character who does bad things to people that don't deserve it is more human than you think.

[tanadrin]

I would love to hear the rant about social media doomerism and conspiracy

I’m on my phone right now but the summary version is something like:

Humans are bad at integrating information into their worldview accurately bc of various cognitive biases

Social media incentivizes us seeking out content that excites fear or anger or irritation

Social media thus causes us to form negative impressions of the world bc it mediates so much information consumption and discourse these days

This general negative affective impression is subject to high confirmation bias and ppl in general are really bad at divorcing an affective impression of a thing from their dispassionate reasoning abt a thing

(Bc one of the functions of an affective impression is to “cache” our conclusions about a topic to save time and effort later)

(In general if you are a cynic and pessimist you can fall prey to these biases w/o social media but I think social media makes more ppl susceptible to them)

People don’t want to be dupes so they seek refuge in cynicism. We treat cynicism as wise or worldly when in fact cynicism makes you a dupe and an easy mark for grifters. Cynicism and low trust foster conspiracism, paranoia, and antisocial politics

(This is why so many congenitally contrarian folks seem to flit effortlessly between the far left and far right; it’s not horseshoe theory, they’ve just cooked their brains on this stuff)

This is a world where populist anti-social politicians like Trump and the AfD thrive, bc they will lie about how everything is terrible and people will nod along, bc it explains why their social media is full of awful stories of, like, immigrants eating pets and shit

But it doesn’t just have to be insane lies only a moron could believe. It can be any impression about a fact in the world that it is difficult to personally check and which is vulnerable to being swayed by anecdote

This is how we get a word where people think crime rates are higher than they’ve ever been when in fact crime is falling

Or child predators lurk around every corner when in fact children are safer than ever

Or the American economy is in a recession when in fact it’s doing historically well by just about every available metric (now with full employment AND low inflation!)

Because in a big world even where things are in general good and getting better you can always produce infinite individual examples of shitty things and pipe those in a steady stream into people’s eyeballs, and then point to that and leverage people’s low trust attitudes and their cynicism which tells them they are smarter than the experts and go “statistics is just a fancy way to lie! The world is secretly terrible! Every bad thing is even worse than you thought and every good thing is a lie!”

(Nevermind the whole phenomenon where anything that is complicated or that someone does not themselves understand gets treated like it’s actually secret and a conspiracy.)

And here I know I have to include some disclaimer about how this is not to discount individual cases of suffering or struggle, which are real, or that there are indeed some really awful things happening in the world right now, which there are, but you know what?

I’m tired of doing that. People with reading comprehension operating in good faith ought to be able to deduce that general statements do not obviate particular exceptions, and people who cling to their doomerism as a kind of emotional life raft do not generally argue with me in good faith.

Sometimes doomerism is a load-bearing pillar of their politics, which I think is dumb—I think you can be a leftist or a progressive without being a doomer! In fact I think doomerism is antithetical to useful politics!

Sometimes they are just depressed and treatment-resistant. Sometimes they are just angry misanthropes who want to feel justified in their misanthropy. Some doomers are themselves in bad circumstances and feeling hopeless about that—to them I am enormously sympathetic. Though a lot of doomers will admit they personally are doing OK—this does not seem to be most doomers.

But I think in general cynicism and doomerism and a worldview dominated by a general nebulous air of Everything Is Awful and by abstract nouns with threatening auras is not conducive to wisdom or understanding or useful politics or leading a happy and fulfilling life.

[rafry]

Euclydia, Cults and Need for Control

Disclaimer: this analysis raises sensitive topics. if you are/were a victim of a cult and the topic triggers you, please refrain from reading further(/seek help). Additionally, I am not a specialist on said topic, nor am I a clinician. But I am a survivor, so part of the narrative may or may not be just me projecting the trauma on a silly yellow triangle. That said, reader discretion is advised! :)

The take: Euclydia is likely to be a cult-like society and the reason Bill, after years of abuse, grows up to be as he is: a power-hungry monster. Let's analyze!

For the starters, The Start. Each state has its own anthem. How lucky that we were kindly provided with the Euclidian hymn (hidden under the code "FORGETTHEPAST")! Lets take a look:

"Two dimensions to and from, You always know which way to go If you're lost, don't be afraid, In Euclydia you've got it made! Run too far too right of frame, You'll appear on left again! Jump too high, don't fry or fret, You'll pop up from the ground, I bet! In this place there is no fear, Roles and rules, always clear, Euclydia, we hold you dear…"

That tells us way more than we could've asked for, really. The most important: Euclydia is a state of Clear Rules™. Everything works perfectly thanks to The Rules and The Roles, and the state is loved by it's citizens. It's might be a caricature 2D utopia, but how it reacts when the rules are questioned?

"Eye doctor of a different kind, who wants to make his patient blind The doctor says: 'three sips a day will make the visions go away' Fussy eater, baby Billy Wouldn't drink unless it's silly..."

If there's anything about cults and the way they make people behave, is that the "wrong" ones in the community are usually ostracized and/or heavily medicated to not cause any troubles. Those people are sometimes called 'heretics', but may as well just be called crazy or insane by their peers. Oh look completely unrelated picture:

"Cipher, Cipher, he's insane Starting fires with his brain"

Honestly, the other time it would be it. Euclydia, if not Is, then sure does Act like a cult in some way. I could've finished here, easily, but there's something missing, isn't?

"The hell do you mean by 'The Need to Control', OP?"

I mean that the BILLVILLE is important.

There's the thing about trauma survivors: some of us, after living a life with no control over ones societal position (ostracization/isolation), body (forcibly medicated) or even mind (feeling of inadequacy), crave for some form of control to be regained.

It can turn toxic very quickly when the only form of control one has ever seen in their life is being The Leader (cult leader/shitty parent/armageddon overlord/you get the idea, it's about becoming an authority figure).

And so, Bill becomes a cult leader! Very possibly covering up the need for control and admiration with what I call "The most inefficient way to build an Interdimentional Portal ever", since, well, he's got to lie to himself every now and then, that's his thing (trauma response).

As for the details:

He uses the dead mans body — the body that wouldn't cause any resistance, thus being perfect for taking under control.

He sees the position of the interviewer as more authoritative than the position of the interviewee — and he swaps the roles. That wasn't enough though, so he demands (politely) to be called "My Lord And Master" for a good measure.

He very possibly recreates some of Euclydia-like order in his own "Town" in terms of expressing individuality. They might've been pretty decent in following scripts, I think.

So, I don't think Euclydia has ever been religious in any way, since that would left some other scars on Bills psyche for sure. But highly authoritative, ignorant, strict in its rules to the point of self-damnation? That checks. That's the place that has formed Bill, after all.

That's the place that he wishes to rebuild.

Maybe not consciously, maybe distorted by his illness and broken memory of a loving-paradise-home that has never actually been that way, but he seeks the comfort of familiarity — most of us do. Familiar stings are better than an uncontrollable too-bright future, isn't?

I hope he does well on therapy.

[studioeisa]

true hate’s kiss 💋 chan x reader.

★ footnotes: first seen in svt x reverse tropes. dedicated to @chanranghaeys and, of course, the birthday boy himself. word count: 905.

It started with the ribbiting.

The first time it happened, Chan had thought it was a hiccup. Some weird sound caught in the back of his throat. But then it kept happening, and happening, and happening, and no amount of water could fight it down. 

What a horrifying thing to realize— that he was slowly but surely turning into a frog. 

It’s the type of fuckass situation that Chan thought only existed in fiction. He’d seen the Disney movie, of course. He even gave it four stars on Letterboxd. 

To have it happen to him, though? Insane. 

All because he’d gotten into a spat with someone at the park. He’d thought the old hag was crazy when she screeched about being a witch, when she waved a stick at him and claimed he could only be cured by ‘true hate’s kiss’. Not true love, mind you. True hate. 

There was really only ever one person that Chan loathed with every fibre of his being.

You’d understandably been skeptical when he came up to you. In hindsight, starting off with “I need you to kiss me” may have not been one of his stronger openings.

“This is a weird way to confess,” you had shot back, and he laughed so hard he thought he might cry. 

He called you delusional. You retaliated by slamming the door in his face with a scathing remark of “Enjoy being a fuckass frog, then! Ribbit ribbit, bitch!”

‘Ribbit ribbit’ he has been doing, much to his utter distaste. The trilling has been driving him mad. He’s convinced his palms are getting more clammy by the day. And is it just him, or is his skin taking on a more greenish tint? 

Chan swallows what little pride he has left and does what he has to do: He grovels. 

He gets on his knees and grits out pleas for just one kiss. (No tongue, even, he says, unless you want some. That earns him an upside smack to the head.) 

He promises to leave you alone for a week, a month. That’s not enough; he can tell by your stoic, unwavering expression. 

“Anything,” he blurts out. “I’ll give you anything.” 

It’s a dangerous thing to promise, but it’s what lands. “Anything?” you repeat, tilting your head to one side. 

You’re the perfect picture of everything he’s despised. Composure, ridicule, smugness. 

Chan shifts from down on the ground, his knees pressing into the cool wood of the floorboards. “Anything,” he confirms with the solemnity of a man accepting a death sentence. 

You feign like you’re thinking about it, fingers resting at your chin. The litany strikes up in Chan’s head. A chant of I hate you, I hate you, I hate you, I—  

“Deal,” you say. 

He blinks. Dread shivers down his spine, though it’s quickly replaced by something more akin to relief. Better one bad kiss than be a frog for life. 

“Okay.” His words are an exhale as he scrambles to his feet, drawing himself up to his full height. “Alright, then.” 

Chan has never been more grateful to be a couple of inches taller than you. It’s always been the topic of his jabs, and now it gives him both literal and metaphorical leverage. 

“Let’s make this quick,” he grumbles even though he’s in no position to be making demands when he’s the one cashing in a favor. He can only hope and pray that the anything you might want is somewhat reasonable, that it won’t shatter his already wounded pride. 

You roll your eyes. He bites back a snarky remark on the tip of his tongue. 

Chan rests his hand on the column of your neck, because if he’s going to do this, he’s going to do it right. Don’t overthink it, a voice in the back of his head wryly advises, and so he doesn’t. 

He squeezes his eyes shut and leans down, bracing for the worst. I hate you, I hate you, I hate—

—green apple lip balm. 

The refrain screeches to a halt. Chan never thought he’d use the word ‘soft’ to describe you; he knows you for your rough edges and sharp wit. Nothing about you is subtle or mellow, most especially when it comes to him. 

And yet. 

You’re not even touching him. You haven’t laid a single finger on him, and yet Chan is holding his breath like he’s underwater.

When your mouth parts ever so slightly— he doesn’t have the time to analyze that, to wonder if it’s impulse or pleasure— he responds in kind, his tongue briefly tracing over your lower lip. 

His earlier jab must register in your mind because you begin to pull away, your part of the deal fulfilled. The feeling of loss is instant. 

Don’t overthink it, his conscience had yelled. He didn’t realize it might translate to Don’t think at all. 

Chan’s fingers flex at your neck. If kissing you felt like being underwater, being apart felt like gasping for air. 

Gone is the chorus in his head. Why did he hate you, anyway? 

He doesn’t have to say a thing. His body acts for him; instinctively, he leans forward, chasing your lips for another kiss. 

(Later: A doctor’s visit reveals that the ‘ribbiting’ was, in fact, hiccups. An electrolyte imbalance, the attending tells a mortified Chan. Might be good to drink Gatorade. 

When Chan’s first thought is the apple-flavored variant, he knows he’s screwed.) 

[neeeooon]

haii!! Can I request how the bllk boys would react if reader was INSANELY good at soccer but ‘wasted their talent’ bc they never rlly found the time to play??

(characters: Isagi, Rin, Bachira, Noel, Aiku + whoever u want!!)

yess thank you for the request!!

when you “wasted” your soccer talent

bf bllk x gn!reader who play(ed)s soccer. cw: slight angst, some may be ooc

isagi yoichi

-> he’s personally offended that anyone would waste such potential, but it hurts more because it’s you

-> “i have work,” “i’m too busy today,” “you go ahead, i’ll be here when you get back.” all isagi heard were excuses. he’d seen you play. he knew how good you were

-> when he caught you watching soccer reels on your phone with a longing look in your eyes, he decided enough was enough. “okay! time to get up, y/n.” “get up where?” “to the field with me.”

-> you were hesitant and tried to back out the entire way there, but once you stepped onto the field, you felt like you were finally able to breathe freely

-> though you weren’t nearly as good as you once were, you had fun out there with your boyfriend. maybe you’d join him every now and again, for his benefit.. :)

itoshi rin

-> you didn’t make the cut for your dream team because you’d been too busy with exams to perfect your play, and it killed your passion. never mind that you got accepted into four other renounced soccer programs, if your top didn’t want you, soccer was pointless

-> and that mindset really bothered rin when you finally told him why you stopped playing

-> “why are you getting upset? you of all people know that if you aren’t the best, you’re nothing.” you didn’t mean it as an insult to him, but he still looked a bit taken aback by your words

-> shaking it off, rin tossed the soccer ball into the air as he spoke. “i want you to practice with me again. just this once.” “i don’t know…” “just once.” “… okay, fine.”

-> it wasn’t the same. you knew it, he knew it, and if anyone else was in there watching you, they knew it too. but, you felt proud of rin as you watched him score goals that would have been difficult for you, even at your best

bachira meguru

-> you stopped playing soccer when your parents asked you to help them run the family shop, and you never planned to touch a hall again until bachira stumbled into your store (and your heart)

-> practicing with him brought a small spark of the love back, but you were too rusty from the first time you quit and didn’t see a point in returning to play professionally

-> “wow, y/n! you’re improving really fast!” bachira complimented when you almost stole the ball from him dribbling feet. you waved him off, a bit embarrassed since you never used to struggle with a simple steal

-> bachira is a bit sad when he finds out that you were actually on a soccer team, a good one at that, and never told him. “i don’t play like that anymore,” you explained in a soft voice. “the only reason i’m playing at all is for you. so i can help you improve.”

-> the day he got into blue lock was one of the best of your life, even though you knew you’d never get an invite like that. you knew he could do it for the both of you

noel noa

-> you wanted to play soccer, and you were good at it, but when you were forced between sports and education, you picked your degree

-> while you don’t regret your decision, it’s bittersweet watching your boyfriend play on the television. in person. surrounded by people wearing his name on their jerseys

-> when you’re together, you try to avoid discussing soccer, since you know it’s a topic he’s still sensitive about on your behalf

-> “i don’t see why you couldn’t do both. get your degree while on a soccer scholarship.” “you know why. i’m not a person who can split my attention like that. if i focus on something, i have to give it my all.” “still.”

-> you still play with him to keep yourself active, but that’s it. you aren’t making any genius plays or straining your body to make impossible shots, and you’re okay with that, even if noel will never completely understand

oliver aiku

-> you chose to prioritize your youth over your practice time, and it bit you back when you got kicked off the team for arriving late and skipping lessons

-> oliver’s whole thing is about helping to nurture and grow a striker, and when he saw old clips of you playing, he had hopes of bringing you in to play with him. until hearing that you’d stopped years ago

-> “why don’t you try again?” he tries for the fifth time, your already thin patience crumbling. “oliver, i’m not good anymore. i stopped playing years ago. it’s not like riding a bike.” “why would you waste such talent? you could have been great.”

-> and that hurt, because you could have been. you could have been world famous if you’d continued to practice and prioritize soccer, but you didn’t. and while you don’t completely regret choosing to have fun, you wished you’d continued to play

-> “what’s done is done. i don’t want to talk soccer with you anymore.” “fine.” “fine.”

[ready-to-read7]

Prompt #10

(Okay it’s not often when I find Danny interacting with the superfamily I’m not saying it’s rare is just difficult for me to find for some reason, and I know this wouldn’t make sense story wise since Maddie was the one who grew up in a small town/farming town but I would like to think Jack being the biological son of the kents would be like incredible)

Jack Kent was a large and rambunctious boy who loved his family deeply, so when his parents one morning entered the dining room with a  baby boy in their hands he was over the moon, he spend every moment bonding with his new baby brother, and was even more happy to learn that his brother was like him, un-humanly strong.

But years later after what happened to Vlad he felt horrible for what happened he blamed himself for some reason ( I honestly do not know how Vlad became ½ ghost besides the fact that it happened in college or  University)  so when he was old enough he moved and lost contact with his family since he did not want his parents or  baby brother have to deal with the insanity that happens with his research they were obviously invited to his wedding but that happened before he lost contact with them.

Years later Jack is happy, Danny had told him about the accident in the lab and that he  became half ghost, he was  devastated to learn that he had been hunting his own son but he did his best to make up for it and to learn that he technically had two more kids made him even happier,  he was obviously furious with Vlad how could he do this, how could he hurt his son but he was happy about the existence of dani/ Elly. and learning that there was an evil alternate future  version of his son trying to reform but needed a physical body was surprising but gosh damn that was still his son and  he was going to help. And by stealing a bit of Vlad’s technology they were able to make a slightly altered and older body for dan.

So now Jack and Maddie had jazz, Dante/ dan, Danny and Elly, and he couldn’t be happier with his family but there was something that could make it better, something he could do so for the first time in years he decided to call his parents.

Martha was ecstatic to hear from her eldest again it had been so many years and she never truly knew exactly why he lost contact with them, but here he was on the other side of the phone calling her she almost broke out in tears, they had a long conversation about how  Jack was sorry for losing contact and about the reason he did, Martha was being quiet and listening and giving reassurances but her calm attitude immediately disappeared when  Jack mentioned his kids she immediately wanted to know how many, the genders and everything, Jack obviously didn’t want  to go in  to them more specific details on two of the kids so Jack avoided those topics, but he would tell enthusiastically about each of his kids, by the end they would arrange a day for Jack and his family to come visit and Martha would tell Jack that she would also call his younger brother to bring his family so that they could reunite more  specifically planned a little surprise dinner so they can surprise Clark.

[moonshynecybin]

What would happen if Marc woke up in a world where sepang never happened...

ooh the classic what would happen if you got everything you wanted scenario… idk i think we could do a time travel sitch, where he gets his ass dumped into his 2013 body and has to set about preventing one of the more` significant little tragedies of his life, but that would also count on marc having the emotional intelligence to think he did ANYTHING wrong in his relationship with vale, and i don’t think he can do that quite yet lol… maybe it has to be a story where he realizes that he couldve handled things differently? in that clip from his recent interview, he talks about how when he was younger he would go flat out every training session but he doesnt feel the need to do so nowww, so maybe hes processing that sort of internal shift while also looking at vale from the perspective of an injured, post-honda marc who has personal knowledge of how hard it is ego-wise to mount a comeback... maybe this inspires some empathy w vale (he's looking at him and realizing THAT vale is only 4 years older than him and hes like. hm...) and the fic ends up being a character study on baby marc vs marc now PLUS actually internalizing all of the lessons he thinks he’s learned… i don’t wanna make this sound like sepang is marc’s fault lol like to be clear i don’t think he did anything WRONG per se, he was just marc level abrasive in ways that specifically rubbed against vale’s tender bits, but i also think that if he handled vale with more care than perhaps some parts of this could have been avoided ! so maybe older marc's presence removes the ranch nasty and the assen nasty (“marc is only my friend when he wins”) and gets vale out of the 'well clearly marc is sabotaging me' mindset. and then at some point marc has to like. TELL vale about all this after sepang has technically passed and vale. perhaps does not handle that well in conjunction w his title loss anyways BUT this version is closer to marc and its a different sort of less public sexy mess....

OR it could be marc gets sent to an alternate reality of 2025 where sepang maybe doesnt happen, but him and vale still kinda implode a little less dramatically and marc is like well this IS what i wanted but it feels hollow as fuck lol. no new, frothing vitriol between them really, like vale will shake his hand and do the same kinda stuff he does w jlo or whatever (vale shows up to the paddock and takes a pic w marc to get reposted on socials bc the press ask and marc is like ??? bc he has never been a somewhat neutral topic to vale before ever in his LIFE… unsure how to deal w the rivalry treatment that jlo or casey or sete get handed. little does he know vale is still insane, he just has less cause to go nuclear lol) butttt marc still had to leave hrc, still alienated from the academy, still breaks his arm… like realizing that sepang isnt this huge axis that the bad things in his life kinda spin on.... and maybe he sets about interrogating all the ways they would’ve broken up even without the heightened melodrama of the sepang race… starts hanging out w vale even though that’s something they Don’t Do Now and vale is surprised but likes it (and is also. still somehow DEEPLY hurt by how everything went down maybe just less specifically delusional/paranoid to cope in conjunction w title loss. idk maybe he won 2015 here and marc was injured for the back half of the season and they both feel weird about kinda drifting apart)... this fic would have lots of fear from them both about the other leaving, the injury stuff, the age stuff--- all the reasons why sepang happened that they never delt with, just without the actual sepang… and i think it could be sweet idk i like it when they’re fucked up but they spend time w each other and it’s like oh it’s you… of course it’s you…. its always been you

[cacoetheswriting]

celebrity skin. (part nine)

pairing: rockstar!eddie munson x popstar!fem!reader word count: 4.6k summary: an album release forces some feelings and conversations — one thing's for sure though, Eddie will always be thinking about you.

content warnings: 18+, minors dni: suggestive & mature themes, adult language, use of pet names, mentions of alcohol consumption, mentions of blackmail — if i missed anything in this chapter, pls let me know!

& psa: images used in the header don’t depict readers physical attributes! these are also described vaguely in the story, only that she’s a little shorter than eddie.

celebrity skin. masterlist

“We are here this morning with a true music icon in the making, who’s hits like Compromising Positions and most recently Honesty took the world by storm. Now, Eddie Munson is just a few short days away from releasing his sophomore album with his Corroded Coffin bandmates, Assistance is Futile. Welcome to Eddie Munson everybody, yes!”

“Happy to be here, Charles.”

Good Morning America was definitely not the type of talk show the rockstar pictured himself ever getting invited on. He didn’t think his personal style, or the music he was putting out there with the band, would be something the producers would welcome. Considering especially the whole thing was televised live. No cuts, no edits, no take backs. Whatever is said remains out there forever. Quoted and interpreted until the next schmuck makes a fool of himself.

Hosts, Charles Gibson and Joan Lunden, were also known to be quite blunt with their guests. Blunt, but not in the rude sense of the word. Given their history on the network, their experience, they're simply good at what they do, which sometimes means effortlessly picking at a topic until they get a satisfactory reaction or better yet, television worthy answer. Of course there’s always a list of pre-agreed questions, carefully discussed with management and PR teams, but things have known to… slip out.

But Marianne trained him. Extensively. She flew out to New York the second this interview was arranged and spent hours in Eddie’s penthouse hotel room going over details that to most people, people not from this world, may seem minor: how to sit, how to smile, what to laugh at, the amount of seconds it should take him to answer a question. The list goes on. And now she was here, at the studio, to make sure Eddie saw a friendly face in the crowd. Someone to look at in case he got flustered at any point during the fifteen minute round.

“Before we get into the nitty gritty,” Joan begins, crossing one knee over the other, “Eddie, why don’t you tell us a little about how you and the band first got started?”

So Eddie talks. He’s charming as he tells the story, sparing a few details ‘cause he knows he doesn’t have a lot of time. He does however, crack a few jokes, including one about the list of names Gareth and Jeff brought to him one night before they all agreed on Corroded Coffin. Charles laughs before asking the next question about the band's success so far, and what he makes of it.

“Oh man, it’s so insane,” Eddie answers truthfully, “I still have days where I don’t think any of this is real. All of us in the band feel incredibly lucky, for sure.” He nods along as he speaks.

Joan and Charles take turns asking a few more general questions about the band plus the other members who couldn’t make it out today, before settling on the whole reason Eddie agreed to do this interview in the first place: promotion for the new album.

Assistance is Futile was a collection of songs about you — but that was not going to be an answer he gives today, accidentally or otherwise. Instead, the rockstar focuses attention on how the record was built. Technical language that he dumbs down slightly to make sure he’s continuously captivating his audience (Marianne’s advice). He tells them what instruments the group played around with that may not have featured on their last album, which was more classic rock than this new project. And he’s excited as he talks. Passionate.

He continues to lay out the facts. List the number of tracks it features, eleven plus two bonus songs on the extended version. He talks about the writing process, still carefully avoiding mentioning the influence. He won’t say he wrote them all during the aftermath of your breakup. He hasn’t even admitted that to you, despite the fact that you spent every waking moment together since the afternoon at Cove City Sound Studios. He knows he won’t be able to hide that for much longer, but until the album comes out and you hear the songs for yourself, he’ll keep it to himself because things have been so… great.

Sure, things weren’t back to normal. It can’t be the way it was until Eddie finds the time to speak with your management and nip this whole evil grandmother blackmail thing in the bud. At least he’s got you in some capacity. He gets to talk to you again, laugh with you. He gets to hug you, kiss you, touch you. Friends with benefits, or whatever the term is. Eddie’s just glad to be around you.

“Now, here at the studio, we got an exclusive, sneak peak listen to Assistance is Futile, and there’s a little bit of speculation between the crew about the meaning behind some of the songs.”

Boom. There it is. The dreaded topic. And it was going so well.

“Care to share where the inspiration for these lyrics struck you? Who, in particular, they might be about?”

Eddie smiles. “Give into the charade”, Marianne’s words ring in his ears, “But by any means, don’t confirm their suspicions”. Not an easy task. A slippery slope by all accounts. He ever so slightly glances in the direction of his manager who nods her head to show encouragement.

“Who do you think they’re about, Joan?” Eddie bounces the question back.

The presenter smiles. She knows she shouldn’t say. Yes, it would be good for ratings, but bringing up your name is not something that can be done lightly. She knows that. Hence why Joan hoped Eddie Munson wouldn’t be smart enough to avoid the initial question. But the rockstar’s been trained and he’s not about to mess up with two minutes to spare.

“Well, I’d say my friend Charles here. He’s got, what was that one lyric, legs for days and a wicked smile.” Joan deflects. Ever the professional.

The whole studio starts laughing. Eddie joins in, satisfied with the way this worked out. 

“You’d be right on the money there, Joan.” The rockstar nods with a wide smile before continuing, “Charles Gibson has been a constant inspiration for Corroded Coffin songs. There’s not a lot to do in Hawkins, where we grew up. Gotta write what you know and my uncle has an affinity for this show.” 

He turns to the camera to say hi to Wayne, “I know you’re watching.”

Then shifts to look at the hosts once more, winking at the gentleman sitting across from him.

“Charles, you sexy devil, you.”

The laughter continues. People start to clap, whistle along to Eddie’s perfectly curated response. Marianne is beaming with pride because for a brief moment, she didn’t think he could do it. There've been so many mishaps in the past, wild things the band — the curly-haired frontman in particular — have done that she’s had to either smooth over with the media or keep hidden from the public altogether. This morning she finally exhaled. He did well.

You’re laughing too. Feeling proud too as you watch him through your television screen, just like you promised Eddie you would.

Blanket covering your body, all the way up to your chin, as you sit comfortably on the couch. The smile on your face is as genuine as they come. He’s so good at this. Considering how nervous he was, how much time he spent with Marianne going over every possible scenario until his head hurt. You took a mental note to tell him later that he really had nothing to worry about. He’s a natural.

The question about his inspiration for the album didn’t surprise you. It’s pretty standard for these types of press junkets. Even more given the fact your relationship has been the talk of the town for months, especially when the two of you weren’t even together. People love to speculate.

When Eddie told you about the upcoming album, one night after you came down from another intense orgasm, you assumed he wrote about your relationship — especially the failures. Honesty came to the rockstar after only one night. Makes sense that a complete record would be next. He didn’t confirm it though, because you didn’t ask. You would know once it came out, when you purchased your own copy to listen through. Artists supporting artists, and whatnot.

“Corroded Coffin’s Assistance is Futile. Coming to a record store near you, this Thursday, October 14.” Charles Gibson announces, holding up a shiny compact disc to one of the cameras, showing off the album’s cover art: a thundering night sky, with something sinister looming inside the blood red clouds. An ode to the band's Dungeons & Dragons days.

“Eddie Munson, thank you for your time today.” Joan Lunden flashes a pearly white smile.

The rockstar returns the expression. “Thank you for having me.”

Backstage, Eddie gives Marianne a big hug. Thanking her for being here. While returning the embrace, she reassures him that’s never going to change. “Or at least until the contract ends,” his manager teases and ruffles his already wild hair before sitting down on the velvet sofa.

“So, tell me, am I flying back to LA alone?”

Eddie picks up a bag of previously opened Funyuns before leaning against the vanity. He shuffles the remainder of the onion-flavoured corn chips inside the plastic, then starts eating them, one by one.

“Yeah,” he says, shrugging as if it was an obvious answer. “We’ve got the release party for the album. The guys would kill me if I missed it.”

“I’d kill you first.”

He smirks. “Then why ask me the question?”

Marianne gives him a pointed look. One that says, no, screams, he of all people should know why. Eddie got on a private plane to New York so he could “sort something out”, then ended up staying for weeks longer than intended with no explanation. Marianne called him at the hotel multiple times, asking for a return day, but he always gave a vague answer. Then Gareth called, as did Jeff (who sort of already suspected the reason for the delayed homecoming, kudos to Holly), but Eddie continued on the road of avoidance, all while Page Six posted about sightings of him with a certain pop sensation.

“Eddie, you haven’t been this happy since—”

“I know,” he interrupts, “I know and yes, to whatever you’re thinking, but I don’t wanna talk about it now because there’s something I need to do first.”

“What do you need to do?” She asks, puzzled because in the time they’ve worked together, the rockstar has never once left her out of action. She did everything for him. That was her job. One she did gladly because she’s grown to care for these boys.

Eddie sighs, wiping his crumb covered hands on the material of his trousers. The bag of chips lays empty on the table next to him. Of course he contemplated telling Marianne everything on multiple occasions, but each time he chickened out at the last minute. He knew she could fix everything in the blink of an eye. Simply, the rockstar just didn’t feel worthy of that. 

His entire life, Eddie ran away. From situations, from people, from feelings. Anything that was messy, or just became messy. He ran until the distance felt comfortable enough to continue with his life. Growing up in Hawkins, he didn’t have a Marianne. He didn’t have anyone that would stand up for him, so running became second nature. Running fixed his problems. 

By the time the band hit stardom, running turned to escapism in the form of drugs and alcohol. The bubble. Under the influence, the rockstar didn’t care who cleaned up after him and Marianne was so good at her job that most of the time, Eddie didn’t even know there was a problem to run from until it was resolved.

The situation with your grandmother however, was different. It involved you. 

He gave into his instincts and ran. Only this time, Eddie ran to protect you. Threats were made to potentially ruin your career — fucked up, considering the person that made them was also the person who helped kick-start your fame. And as selfish as he may seem to people that don’t know the real him, the rockstar wasn’t willing to gamble everything you built for yourself. He ran.

But Eddie was done running. He was going to fix this and he planned on doing it alone.

“What’s going on?” Marianne stands and takes a step closer, crossing her arms. Concern is starting to fill her veins, though she’s trying her best not to show it. Trying and failing.

Maybe solving this alone wasn’t the way to go.

“Someone’s been blackmailing me,” he admits eventually, reluctantly. 

“What?!” Marianne just about shouts. “Who? For how long?”

“It’s uh…. It’s a complicated story.”

“Well, fuck.” She’s slightly annoyed ‘cause how could he have hidden something like this from her? This is why the band has her. Managing them, planning shit to maintain their career is only a small part of her job. Protecting these boys is a priority and blackmail is a big fucking deal.

Exhaling, Marianne lets her arms drop and proceeds to take a much less confrontational stance. 

“Eddie, you know I’ve always got nothing but time for you, so spill.”

And he does. Starting right at the beginning with Chrissy Cunningham.

-

When Eddie stops by your place later that afternoon, he kisses you, the second you open up your apartment. He kisses you fully, deeply. He’s kicking the door closed with his boot, lips continually locked together, his hands holding you firmly by the waist. A man on a mission and the mission being to make you feel like you're floating all the damn time. 

You smile against his soft lips. Mission accomplished.

“That’s one way to say hello.”

“Hello,” he whispers back, also smiling. “How was your morning?”

“Not nearly as interesting as yours,” you answer his question and turn in your spot, wanting to lead him to the couch. Eddie’s hands remain on your waist as you do so, no inclination of letting go.

MTV is on. The wild-haired rockstar instantly feels at home — a stark contrast to that first night he showed up at your door. Adrenaline pumping. Unsure of the outcome. But it was better than he could’ve imagined, dreamed. Back in your arms with little to no arguments. Back where he for sure belonged.

Honesty comes on. The video makes him smile as he effortlessly pulls your legs over his thighs, hand settling on your soft flesh and giving it a gentle squeeze. The memory of that day with you on set. Eddie wouldn’t call it acting. Hugging you, kissing you on camera. Not a tough act. Natural, actually. That was a good day. You’re thinking it too.

“Magnetic.”

“Huh?”

Eddie can’t tear his eyes away from the screen. “You’re magnetic. Utterly. I almost forgot, but I didn’t really, you know? I-I think about that day often and how much fun it was,” he rambles. It’s sweet. 

“But what I replay in my mind the most is how fucking talented you are, sweetheart. A goddess in front of a camera, I swear.”

You smirk, your own mind flying to something much, much dirtier than what Eddie meant, and he flicks your leg at the institution, all while glancing at you from the corner of his brown eyes. Because there was a video camera left under the rockstars California King bed with a tape inside, a tape that could get you both — although the sexist industry you’re lucky to be a part of would blame only you, mainly — in a lot of trouble, if it ever saw the light of day. A tape for private eyes only. And Eddie wasn’t wrong, you were near damn a goddess.

“Wish we could work together again,” he says, then quickly adds, “Professionally, sweetheart, before you get any kinky ideas.”

That makes you laugh.

“Think you should focus on the album the band is about to release, hotshot. Once that’s a sure hit, then we can talk about doing something together.”

“Well, there is a box in my room, back in LA, with notebooks full of songs…”

He’s trying to be encouraging. Motivational. Really what Eddie’s doing is building up the courage to ask you to go back to Los Angeles with him. In a complete roundabout way, to be honest. The guys would call him a pussy. He was being a pussy. There was however, a lot he still needed to tell you. This whole thing with your grandma, for one. But Marianne was handling that now, and once she gave him the agreed upon sign, there was nothing stopping Eddie from screaming he loves you from all available rooftops — which he hoped to do for the first time at the place you two officially met. 

And with his manager on the case, he knew it would be sooner rather than later.

“Eddie, you’re a dumbass.” Marianne states. There’s a frown on her face, but it’s not serious. Accompanied by a smile that’s giving him a little bit of hope.

“I know—”

“No,” she interrupts, “You don’t.” 

He exhales. “I do, though.”

“Eddie. If you came to me when this first happened, you would’ve never lost all this time with Little Miss Perfect. The fact that you didn’t, the fact that you didn’t trust me with this information, makes you a dumbass.”

“So, you can fix this?”

“There’s a little thing called a Cease and Desist,” Marianne says as if it’s the most obvious answer in the world. And in a way, it is. “No one is going to threaten the career of my favourite client and get away with it.”

Eddie smiles. Genuinely. Something reminiscent of relief is flowing through his body, down to the tips of his toes, until he no longer feels heavy. The burden of this situation is slowly lifting.

“With your permission, I’d like to approach her team with this information. They’ll most likely also issue a cease and desist, so that her career is also protected.” Marianne says. “But I guess since all you’ve tried to do is keep her out of harm’s way, the only way you knew how, I’m assuming I have your permission without even asking for it?”

“Yes, yes, thank you.” He’s repeating over and over and over, wrapping his arms around Marianne. A hug they’d both cherish forever.

“Like I said, let’s get you to survive this record release first, okay?”

You’re looking at each other now.

“Take it day by day, Eds.”

“What if I want to skip ahead?”

There’s a lot hiding behind that question. The future is uncertain in many ways. He knows that he wants you, you know that you want him. That’s enough, but at the same time it isn’t. Day by day is easier than thinking about tomorrow, or the next day. He just loves you, which he’ll tell you soon. That’s what he wants to skip too.

On the other hand, you’re terrified. Giving into him again brought no shortage of anxiety about his past behaviour. Eddie Munson hurt you, twice. Second time worse than the first. You forgave him, yet the fear was still there. The question remained: what if he did it again? He wouldn’t, but what if he did? So taking it day by day, as it came, was easier. A shield, of sorts. Protection against hurt. 

Also, it was a lot more fun to act without consequence. To just be. 

Existing with him felt almost normal, even though there was nothing normal about the various interviews and photoshoots the rockstar has been doing promoting Assistance is Futile while in New York, or the long phone calls with his manager and bandmates in preparation for the release party. Nothing normal about your own career, which you’ve slowly been defrosting following the short heartbreak hiatus. Pivoting slightly towards acting as a new form of expression. So you’re reading scripts, rehearsing lines. All without expectations. Day by day.

“Skipping ahead means you, going back to LA for the release party,” you point out.

“You could come with me. The invitation is there, you know that.”

“There’s nothing I’d want more than to be there for you and the guys, Eddie, you know that.” You lean in closer, pressing your body weight into his. “But if I make an appearance, it will overshadow the album you worked really hard on and that’s not fair.”

He doesn’t say anything. Instead, pressing his lips to the side of your head, leaving a soft kiss while inhaling the sweet scent of your shampoo. He slowly nods against you, understanding your point of view.

“So we won’t see each other for a while then, huh?”

“Well, I got that recurring part in Law & Order which is filming here, so that’s a couple of months, at least, that I’ll be stuck here in New York.”

“I can visit,” he jumps in almost instantly, “And you, maybe… You can come out to see me whenever you have breaks in filming?”

“Sounds good, Eds.”

There’s a moment of silence. It shifts towards the heavy side. Eddie’s biting his tongue. He wants so badly to tell you everything he’s been keeping secret, but he knows it’s not a good idea until Marianne confirms she’s consulted your team and the cease and desist letters have been sent out. He’s just not ready to say goodbye yet. Not even for a little while. He just got you back. You’re also lost in thought. Reuniting with the Corroded Coffin frontman has been nothing short of a rollercoaster, in the best way possible. Having him here, next to you once more, kissing and touching you. And you know it was limited. That time would come knocking and he’d have to go back, while you’d need to stay. Bittersweet would be the word to describe how you feel. 

“How about we focus on right now, hm?” You offer, lifting your head so that your sweet gaze catches his chocolate one. Then a short inhale later, you kiss him. Gentle, at first, although not quite a peck. His eyes close on impact as his hand reaches for your face, attaching itself like a magnet. Cradling, squeezing your cheeks. 

And you smile. Fucking smile. Eddie loves it when you smile while kissing him. It drives him crazy knowing his touch makes you that happy. So he can’t help but smile too. Teeth knocking against each other in the process. 

“I’ll never get tired of kissing you,” the rockstar admits.

“I’ll never get tired of kissing you, Eddie Munson.” 

The hand that held his toned abdomen just a mere second ago is now not so innocently sliding in a downward trajectory. You fiddle with his leather belt, unbuckling it rather effortlessly with one hand after you press your lips against his once more. Deeper this time. Wanting.

“But distracting me from a conversation about what’s mph… next,” he mumbles as you tug at his zipper. You’re not giving him a chance to breathe. “Isn’t going to - Jesus - work.”

“Okay,” you’re teasing. It’s a whisper and Eddie’s brain short circuits ‘cause your perfectly manicured fingers are sliding into his boxers, reaching for his semi.

-

“So, you guys are like back together now, huh?” 

Steve’s question lingers in the air for a moment. He’s glancing at his small-town friend turned worldwide phenomenon from across the table, swirling black coffee in his takeaway cup.

Eddie looks out the window at the clouds passing by. 

After getting over his initial fear of flying, since he hadn’t been on a plane until his early twenties, the rockstar decided he enjoyed it a lot more than he thought he would. Things were peaceful up here — especially since he could now afford private jets. Just him and his guitar. Even when he travelled together with the guys, they all got lost in their own thing too, as did Marianne.

The upcoming release party however, prompted an invite to his little sister as well as Steve. So he knew that unfortunately this trip wasn’t going to be a quiet one.

“Something like that,” Eddie answers, turning his attention back to his friend.

Harrington nods. “That’s good, man. She’s great.”

“That she is.” Eddie fails to contain a smile.

“I’m happy for you.” Steve’s words are genuine.

“Thanks, dude.”

The short exchange is interrupted by Max’s snort. The two boys look at the redhead currently splayed out on one of the recliner seats. A book in her lap, one that she’s not really reading, but she’s keeping up appearances anyway.

“To think we wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for my genius,” she retorts, a smirk now present on her face.

Eddie laughs lightly, but doesn’t say anything. He’s looking out the window again. His mind turns to you. He misses you, even though he saw you not even a half hour ago when you said goodbye before he got on the plane. He misses you. Anxiety building since neither of you are really sure when you’d be able to see each other next. “And that’s okay,” is what you said to him in between soft kisses. He’s repeating it now.

“She’s not coming to the party, right?” Red asks her older brother, briefly breaking Eddie away from his thoughts. 

The rockstar shakes his head. “No.”

“You’ll see her soon,” his sister reassures, reaching for his forearm across the aisle, squeezing. 

“I know, I know.” 

“Then why the sad face?” Steve points out.

Eddie wishes he was alone. Then no one would be questioning him, even though he knows it’s coming from a good place. They just care, he tries to level his emotions, they’re asking because they care.

“Our last goodbye wasn’t so good,” he answers plainly.

Luckily both Max and Steve understand. They exchange a glance between themselves before returning to whatever activity they were engaging in prior to the start of this conversation: Red buries her head in the book she wasn’t really reading and Harrington resumes listening to music on his Walkman.

Eddie is once again glancing out the small jet window. He’s once again thinking about you. 

And he continues to think about you when the plane lands. In the car, on the way to his Hidden Hills home. He continues to think about you when the house fills with people that are there to style him for the release party. He’s making small talk, his mind still centred on you.

You remain the centre of his attention, even when Eddie and the band arrive at the venue, and he’s being ripped ten thousand different directions. Picture here, sign this, talk to this person. He enjoys a drink and he’s still thinking about you. He’s wishing you were here. 

The guys are introduced to come up on stage and even though Eddie is on cloud nine for this release, super proud of the record they put together, he’s wishing you were here to celebrate this with him.

He thinks about you as he sings one of the songs. Breaking News — a song about you, of course.

There comes a point during the night, a split second during which Eddie stops thinking about you. Not for any particular reason. Nothing spectacular happens for him to do so, he just… does. But it’s only a fleeting moment. He regrets it as soon as he realises. He especially regrets it when Marianne approaches him, a concerned look spread across her usually composed features — although the rockstar doesn’t pick up on her expression immediately.

“What did you think of the performance?” Eddie asks, smiling wide.

She doesn’t answer. Instead, she reaches for the half-empty glass in his hand and sets it aside before exhaling a sigh.

He furrows his brows, the smile fading as quickly as it appeared.

“Eddie, there’s been an accident.”

thank you for reading! really appreciate the endless & continuous support!

celebrity skin. masterlist

& tagging some cool ppl that expressed interest: @eviethetheatrefreak , @thirddeadlysin , @haylaansmi , @nope-thanks , @tlclick73 , @vintagehellfire , @ashlynnkennedy , @avalon-wolf , @sidthedollface2 , @astheni-a , @bebe07011 , @aysheashea , @papillonoirsworld , @vol2eddie, @spideyanakin-interacts , @rogers-sweatbands , @mimsie95 , @mmunson86 , @eddiesguitarskills , @ohmeg , @hereforshmut , @eg-dr3amer3 (if your user is crossed out, it means the tag isn’t working. pls check you’ve enabled tagging in your settings)

[l5byrinth]

fortnight

“and i love you, it's ruining my life”

pairing: nikolas omilana x reader

summary: in which niko avoids you for a certain reason, and at some point you can’t take it any longer.

requested

a/n: hii everyone i’m back from the dead like i always am every few months!!! school has been draining, but one night i got this motivation and managed to write this, hope you like it <3 btw i know i should be finishing of the hunger games requests, but there are so little fics on here for the beta squad members and the motivation just got to me when watching a video.

also pleaseeeee start requesting more beta squad, not just niko because there aren’t many fics for these amazing men

NIKO never knew what it was like to be so infuriated by someone, it caused restless nights. To be so head over heels, that all your thoughts were consumed by only that person. That was until Niko met you. The way you had him wrapped around your finger, without you even noticing or trying, was something he never understood. But it was you, how could he not be?

The famous youtuber also didn’t know what it was like to love someone that wasn’t his. Someone not meant for him.

He had respect for your relationship, of course, he wasn’t one to mingle and make things worse. Especially since your boyfriend was one of the best ones you’ve had. However, the mere thought of you drove him absolutely insane and he wasn’t sure for how much longer he could bear it anymore.

You were happy, though, and he didn’t want to be the reason that would be ruined.

So he avoided you like the plague. Leaving every room you entered, switching the topic whenever you were mentioned, trying to keep his eyes from wandering off to where you were standing. It was killing him, but if it meant keeping you happy, he didn’t mind the torture one tiny bit.

Niko hadn’t told anyone about what he felt for you, he would take it to his grave, that’s for sure. Yet, he was more obvious than he thought he was, since he’s noticed the sympathetic looks his friends gave him whenever you were around. Numerous times. It didn’t matter, it’s not like you were ever going to find out and that’s all that really mattered.

After Niko had arrived back at his apartment, he was surprised to hear not a single sound being made. Knowing Aj, he would always either be gaming and yelling for the whole neighbourhood to hear or edit a video with the volume on to the max.

After checking a few rooms for where his roommate was, he got a call from Aj himself.

“Where are you, you rat?” Niko questioned, not even bothering to greet him. Aj let out a laugh on the other line, “Missing me now, are you? Giraffe.”

Niko rolled his eyes, but couldn’t help the smile forming on his face, “Ha ha, hilarious.”

“Anyway, I’m at Chunkz’ right now.”

And after conversing for a few minutes, discussing everything and nothing, they ended the call. The tall guy let out a loud sigh, as he sat down on the sofa, turning on the tv to watch anything that came up first. However, just when he was about to push the button of the remote, the doorbell rang.

Niko was confused to say the least, but didn’t expect much of it. It was probably one of his friends needing something from him.

When Niko opened the door, however, he wished he didn’t. His heart dropped to his stomach, his breath hitching in his throat. That was the effect you had on him. Your hair was messed up quite a bit, your lips forming a pout as you looked at him. Oh, how he had to restrain all the power in him not to kiss that pout away.

A soft call of your name left his lips, as if he was terrified it was just a hallucination. “Niko,” Your voice was stern, yet there was some kind of sadness to it. And without saying another word, you entered the apartment as if you owned the place.

When you walked past him, your scent wafted into his nostrils and he took it in. He closed his eyes, not wanting to lose control and confess the second he turned around and looked at you again. Niko closed the door, taking his sweet time going to you. You were pacing back and forth in the living space of the apartment, your eyebrows furrowed and face filled with worry.

“What’s wrong?” Niko questioned, earning a rather unbelievable scoff from you. When you stopped pacing and moved closer to him, Niko took back a step, making you even more frustrated than you were before. “You’re asking me what’s wrong? I should ask you!” You couldn’t comprehend why the closest friend you had ever had, wasn’t present in your life anymore. The minute your feet took a step closer to him, he backed away once more, “Look! What’s this? Why are you avoiding me?”

You were absolutely fuming to put it lightly. What was he doing?

His gaze fell down to the floor, because if he would look at you right now, he knew he would ruin things even more. “I don’t get it, Niko…” Your voice was dripping with desperation, but you couldn’t care less at the minute, only interested in whatever was going between the two of you.

Another step closer, but this time he didn’t budge, his eyes stuck to the ground. But when you said his name so sweetly, who could blame him when he averted his gaze to meet yours. The question that left your lips, made the guilt sink inside of him, “What did I do wrong?”

However he didn’t cave in. He couldn’t and he wouldn’t, no matter how tempting the thought of you being his seemed right now.

“Niko, please. Talk to me!”

Silence, once again.

“Nik-“

“I can’t talk, please don’t make me.” His whisper was barely audible, but still loud enough for you to hear. “Why not, huh? Are you just going to ignore me like you have done for the past couple of-“

“I have to! I never wanted for this to happen.”

The tone in his voice took you by surprise, your eyes searching his for a more clear answer, “What are you talking about?”

“You think I wanted for all of this to happen? Of course not!” He started, and he regretted everything he said after, “I couldn’t help it. Couldn’t help to feel at home with you, couldn’t help but feel as if you are the only one in this universe.”

His gaze was burning into yours, “I couldn’t help but fall in love with you.”

Something fluttered unwantedly in your chest, followed by your breath hitching in your throat. Niko’s in love with you?

“You… what?”

“I fell for you, hard and painfully so. I’m sorry, okay? It happened one way or another and now you’re the one consuming my thoughts and dreams. I care for you and love you so deeply, it hurts me to stay away from you. But I did what’s best and will continue doing so.” He rambled, never noticing how you were still hung up on the first sentence he uttered.

But when you met his gaze once more, and saw the spark in his eyes when he looked at you, you wondered how you could’ve been so blind. “Now, please, leave before I do something both of us will regret.” Niko warned firmly.

You were stood there absolutely speechless, but came back to earth quickly, when you realised your boyfriend was waiting for you outside.

[lnfours]

"there you go. that's more like it." has been living rent free in my head at all times lately. he's so gorgeous and especially when he smiles/laughs 🥺 what about lando finding you beating yourself up after some kind of failure (plus points if it's an academic one) and cheers you up + the "there you go. that's more like it." when he successfully does so?

this clip has also been living in my head rent free, like i need him in so many different ways it's actually insane.

cleaning out my inbox

you knew you hadn't done well on the test when you had sat down to take it. no matter how much you had studied, nothing was sticking. it was like the topics on the page were going in one ear and out the other.

you tried not to let grades define you, tried your hardest to tell yourself that it was just one test, you'd be fine. everything was okay, it wasn't the end of the world.

he had noticed you were upset early on into the morning when he left to go train. you had sat on the couch under a blanket all day, switching between scrolling on your phone and watching your favorite movies, something you did when you were trying to cheer yourself up.

he had stopped at the flower shop on his way home, picking up the best bouquet they had and stopping at the corner store to grab your favorite snacks. he was determined to brighten your day, even if he didn't know the reason why you were so down, he didn't like seeing you upset. not in the slightest.

you heard the front door close, followed by his voice, "'m home!"

"in the kitchen!" you called back, standing at the pan on the stove. he walked into the room, hands behind his back to try to conceal his gifts. he walked up behind you, placing a kiss on your cheek, "whatcha making?"

"well, it was supposed to be stir fry," you said, poking around the ingredients in the pan, "but i don't think it's turned out."

he grabbed the spoon from your hands, lifting it to his mouth and blowing on it before eating it. you watched him, searching his facial features for an answer. when he scrunched his nose, you sighed heavily.

"damn it!" you were frustrated. why couldn't things go right? just for once?

he placed the spoon down, turning the burner off under the pan, "hey, hey," he said, watching you lean on the counter with your head in your hands, "it's okay, it's fine, it's salvageable."

he placed a hand on your back as you tried your hardest to fight off the tears welling up in your eyes. he placed a hand on your back comfortingly, "hey, pretty girl," he said, rubbing your back softly, "can you look at me?"

you sat up, turning around to face him as your back pressed into the counter. you bit down on your lower lip as he wiped the tear from your cheek with the pad of his thumb, "what's wrong, honey?"

"i just can't do anything right," you said shakily, "i failed my test the other day, i can't make stir fry. i feel so dumb, like what else can't i do?"

"that doesn't mean you aren't capable of doing something," he said, "we all fail, but we get back up, don't we? it's part of learning, part of growing."

he was right and you knew it, but you still had to resist the urge to feel like you were a complete and utter failure.

"you're the smartest person i've ever met," he said, "no matter what you always continue to amaze me. don't ever doubt, not even for a second, that you're something you're not."

you nodded at him, leaning into his touch on your cheek, "'m sorry,"

"don't apologize," he said, "we all need to hear it again once in a while."

you smiled, eyes traveling down to where his arm was still hidden behind his back, "what've you got there?"

he smirked, "you only get to see if you say you're smart."

you huffed with a smile, laughing softly, "i'm smart."

"there you go, that's more like it," he said, holding the bouquet and bag of snacks between the two of you, "saw these and thought they'd make your day better."

you smiled up at your boyfriend, your heart clenching in your chest. you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him in for a kiss. he kissed you back sweetly, the kiss turning hungry when he placed the flowers and bag on the counter, hands finding your hips instead. he lifted you up on the counter, standing between your legs, lips brushing against yours as he spoke, "i love you."

[lemonisntreal]

My thoughts on Sing: Thriller! [finally]

I just want to vomit out some of the things on my mind because ohhh my god, do I have THOUGHTS-

Also! Link here to the short, for the people who want / need it 👍

NO WAY

THE BASTARD LIVES???

THE MIKE FANS WERE ACTUALLY RIGHT????

It wasn't just copium!

Kinda off topic, but this is getting me thinking on how different sized animal's seats are priced. Because they only grabbed one ticket I think, so I think they're literally sharing a seat [WHICH IS CUTE]. But does this mean that bigger animals need to buy more than one ticket? Or are all the seats just ridiculously big? Or am I crazy?

Also thinking of that one scene in Spongebob where Plankton gets sat on by Bubble Bass 😭

Tiny blurry Mike hehe looks like found footage

RAHHHHH

RAHHHHHHHH

Me when I see my fav for 2 seconds with zero speaking lines

Nana is eating also holy shit

EATING 👹

Also Eddie guiding her by the hand is sweet, I love their relationship so much aaywusjhisajhajk

He has such an obviously better relationship with her than he does his actual parents and I'm eating it upppppp

The "How hard can it be to fix a stupid tire anyway???" line was so aggressive, I'm taking this as character development !

She's an actually amazing actor in-universe and I love that

Meena Sweep

Also this set is clean as fuckkk- also a lot more realistic, but still very not LMAO

Also he's DOING A JIG AAA

The crunchy version is for my enjoyment specifically

HOLY SHIT I WAS REFERENCED /j

Also also.

Both GMO and Alice in Wonderland were really short plays from what we see, but I actually do think that this isn't how it actually goes in canon. When they're on the bus in Sing 2, the script looks pretty thick for one. And two- why would anyone pay for tickets for 4 minutes of show?

Like it just makes sense, you gotta understand my reasoning.

They couldn't put the whole 2 hours of play in the actual films, but I like to believe that's actually how it goes

That there's some story and depth to it as well [💀]

Reference. For later.

THE WAY HIS FACE SCRUNCHES DUDE DUDEUDUED

Meena Gunter and Ash are absolutely partying in the back bro

I wonder how often Meena finds herself in cars. Because like there's size, but also we know she just takes the bus everywhere. I don't think her family has a car, they all feel like they utilize public transit instead

Cars that are modified for bigger and smaller animals are probably more expensive and not mass-manufactured either

Not just height but weight limit is also something that needs to be kept in mind. Elephants are like a few thousand pounds.

I think it's just easier to have modified public transit rather than modified individual cars for that kind of load. I bet public transit has way more funding in the Sing universe because of this need too. Because there's also Rhinos, and Hippos, and Giraffes-

I'm getting lost in the sauce again.

HER NOSE SCRUNCH

She was AT that door. First one there, bouncing with excitement. Adorable. I wish Clay had speaking lines with her in this AGH

REFERENCE.

girl what the fuck are you doing here, your ass was NOT invited ‼️

The Infection AU would go CRAZY

Somebody needs to make that rightttt now, actually

I'm giving it some thought right now and how with a few tweaks this could be cool. Like I'd definitely make it so there were different phases, like the MLP AUs. And I'd keep the hivemind thing definitely, because I think that adds an extra terrifying aspect to it

Probably make the ooze stuff look more messy, eyes would be leaking the stuff, mouth.

Idk I'm just spitballing LMAO

The dog from under the table is actually terrifying

Rare sighting of angry Meena

ALSO WHY-

I have a complaint.

Why were they dancing.

For a full minute. With nothing.

No singing. Just instrumental. It dragged on for so insanely long. Like that's my one complaint about this short, is that the pacing is just absolute dogshit after they all get possessed. You can give me a Thriller reprise without making it look super awkward and boring. Why couldn't this have been a cool chase scene instead? Like actually keep up that tension you established?? Because like Crawly and Buster are just STANDING there now, and it's just like-

And then the actual chase is over so fast

Man.

HE'S SO STUPID LOOKING I'M GONNA CRY [positive]

the Borb....... [Buster orb]

I hate the "it was all a dream!" trope but I can't really be mad

I saw it coming from a mile away, and I'm honestly glad because it means that this isn't canon and we don't have to deal with random zombie shenanigans in the actual lore

Or maybe not because Crawly was literally possessed at the end but whatever. Not canon.

My final thoughts are that this was really solid! I feel well fed and very happy to get some new content of the sillies. I will most likely be drawing lots of Thriller stuff because WOW were some of those shots pretty. Overall, critically? C+ short [mostly due to that minute of almost nothing happening]. But my enjoyment level puts the grade at a B+ for me so [B is for Biased].