#sorry this is a rambly mess half formed thoughts and all

[owlbear33]

gotta wonder how the bar on the enterprise works, specifically talking about the bar on TNG era Trek, Ten Forward

like I can see reason for a communal drinking location but why is it a bar, why not a self-service canteen

I'm discounting capitalist reasons (it's not a business in the we don't use money society) and I can't imagine it being a restricted supply thing (replicators??) but like there are obviously bottles of beverage, and bar staff to serve them, you can probably replicate any drink you want, like functionally There's no need for the bar to be anything other than a stack of replicators in a room

so then does the bar and the bar staff and the unlabeled bottles of beverage serve a social function, does talking about what to drink and then watching them pour it do something, is it part of the culture much the same way the communal drinking locations are, is it a safety feature, the bar staff are there so Starfleet doesn't drink itself into a stupor (bars are after all a safe consumption site), are the replicators in other parts of the ship blocked from replicating booze, some or all of these things

[everythingblackblack]

Hakuba should propose to Kaito then the white imagery would fit his civilian identity too via giving him his surname. Plus Kaito keeping people in the dark and operating in the shadows (black) and Hakuba recognising the good in him and being determined to bring everything about Kid into the light (white), also the Kuroba or clover on the black hat accessory reference in Kaitou 1412's original costume as well as the black feathers (translation of Kaito's family name) being used by Corbeau while he traumatised Kaito with his father's appearance. It just has lots of satisfying symbolism of Kaito finally being able to part of with the weight of his family's tragedy and his father's legacy. Because Kuroba-kun and Kid are just means of getting to know Kaito, Hakuba has no investment in Kid or the Kurobas beyond Kaito himself. Kaito isn't a generic civilian identity that's just another fabrication to hide the criminal secrets or the punniest name for a Japanese phantom thief (because he was literally born and raised for this purpose even with his parents' absences they, including Jii, only enter Kaito's life to help him be Kid for his mother and father's mistakes or lie/escape into another life via Vegas or Poker Face) it's the name of the person Saguru loves and he's his and no matter what name he goes by or what he lies about and hides Saguru will love him, figure it out and find the truth. He'll always ask Kaito for his honest answers and give him Real options to be Himself in it's realest form.

A funny thing happened to me while I was reading your question, I happened to have my playlist on shuffle and "Good Luck, Babe!" started playing, so if you see me rambling a lot, attribute it to that funny coincidence.

You made me think of an arranged/convenient marriage. Not exactly though.

Kaito, who feels hurt and lost after finding out his father was alive and mom knew about it, doesn't want to talk to Jii at all because he can't stand the thought of him taking his father's side (he's not sure if he will or not, so he just chooses not to deal with it), can't ask Aoko or her father for help, doesn't feel worthy of their help.

So he desperately and insecurely chooses Hakuba. He wants something that feels close.

Hakuba is probably having a cup of tea while enjoying a book, hears knocking on the window in his room, and is surprised to meet Kaito.

"You still want to know my reason?" Kaito doesn't mention KID, he doesn't need to, Hakuba has a bad feeling, something very serious must have happened for someone like KID to even consider revealing his reasons for stealing, he rushes to let him in, offers him tea, but Kaito rejects it.

They both sit in silence.

"I don't know how to start, it's a mess, actually, my life is a mess."

After a couple of minutes, Kaito begins to tell Saguru about his love for magic and his father, the history of KID, and everything else.

The word that Saguru thinks fits well in this situation is “Sad,” and of course, he is so upset.

“Marry me.” The words are out of his mouth before he can process them, it’s not an unfounded request, but it was a proposal made by his emotions.

“What?”

“I’m sorry if I was so abrupt, still, I mean what I said, I definitely need to think it over better, but I can’t just leave you like this.”

"But how would getting married help?"

"First, because you could adopt a Western name if you wanted, and because it seems very cruel to me that they named you like that… as if your destiny was sealed from the day you were born and you couldn't change it."

"But we're not in love."

"I am."

"Oh."

"You can think about it, meditate on it if you want, I would never force you to do something you don't want, even if you don't accept me that way, I will watch over you, and I won't let you get hurt again. Take my name, my contacts, and whatever you need to get back on your feet."

Kaito thinks Hakuba is being kind, he doesn't want him to be a second choice or receive a half-hearted love. He has nothing to gain by accepting, instead, Kaito would be the only one to benefit.

[ghostbeam]

1.5k, charcoal artist!dabi (again I’m so sorry), mentions of alcohol, dabi and reader are awkward, idk what this is but I kept it under 2k and that is a win for me

It’s been two weeks.

You haven’t seen him by your tree since then, but you haven’t taken him up on his offer and showed up at his place. You transferred the address from the pen on your skin to a scrap piece of paper and hung in on your fridge before you could lose it forever after washing your hands.

It would be weird to show up without calling, only you can’t call him because you don’t have his number. You don’t have classes in the same building, and you think it would be even weirder to walk around the art department to find him instead of just knocking on his door, like he asked you to. 

So, you do end up at his front door, double checking the address with the numbers outside, because Dabi seems to live in some kind of warehouse, and you would assume he wrote down the wrong address if it didn’t make complete sense in your mind that he lived here. You decided on a Friday night, because you assumed a guy like him would be out, and the thought of him answering his door right now is mortifying. 

But he does answer it, and his hair is sticking out in different directions even worse than before, and he’s yawning into his fist, and you’re realizing you’ve just woke him up. 

It stuns him a little, to see you. You’re cute all bundled up from the chilly night out, chin tucked into your scarf as you let your eyes fall over his form. 

“I didn’t think you’d come.” He tells you, leaning against his door frame, voice heavy with sleep. “Figured you thought it was weird that I gave you my address.”

“It was weird.” You nodded, shivering a bit from the cold. “Can I come in?”

He opens the door wider and lets you through. It’s mostly dark inside, one lamp in a far corner illuminating just a little bit of the room. He mutters a sorry as he passes by you, turning on lights overhead, half of the lightbulbs needing to be changed and not helping to illuminate the place much at all. 

“It’s usually brighter during the day.” He shrugs, turning back towards you. “The windows.”

He gestures behind him and you notice the large panels of glass against both walls. It must be nice in the day, all of the natural light, especially for an artist. 

You continue to look around. It’s mostly one giant room with ceilings as tall as the sky. There’s a small kitchen on the right side of the place, art that you assume isn’t his hung on the refrigerator, handmade mugs hanging on a rack by the sink, boxes of sugary cereal on the wooden island you think maybe he or someone else built.

There’s a bathtub to the left, just out in the middle of everything. It’s strange, and completely out of place, but looking at it gives you some sort of weird vision of the future in your mind. Reading in it, leaning back against Dabi and falling asleep, him peering over the edge and kissing you goodbye. A fond smile crosses your face.

Easels, and standing desks, and giant canvases full of abstract paint fill the rest of the room. A tarp on the floor in the middle of everything is covered with charcoal and red paint, pages and pages of unfinished sketches. Paperbacks lay on tables, stacked up against walls, three on his bedside table, all with bookmarks inside, unfinished.

“It’s a mess, I know.” He shrugs. “I kept it nice for a while, you know, in case you came, but then I kind of figured you never would. But you did.”

There’s something guarded about him this time, less open than he was when you met him on the grass. You can understand it. After all, you’re intruding. He was asleep. You should go home. 

“Maybe I should go home. It’s probably a bad time. It’s late, and—” You feel his hand wrap around your wrist, stoping your nervous ramble.

“Stay. Please, I want you to stay.” He tells you, and you can see that bit of vulnerability shine through, a little bit in his eyes. You nod, unable to look away from him. “You want something to drink?”

You don’t trust your voice, so all you do is nod, and when Dabi disappears into his tiny kitchen, you walk further into the room, entranced by his art. You wish you knew more about it, then, that you had something to compare it to, though you think maybe there’s nothing like what he does. 

He brings back a bottle of beer, and you take a long gulp because you suddenly feel hot alone with Dabi in his space. He chuckles under his breath and tugs on your arm.

“You wanna take this off?” He asks you, tugging on your scarf. You hand him your beer and take your scarf and coat off, letting him take them from you and laying them across his bed. He walks to one of the desks in the room, pulling the spiral sketchbook from the day before and a portfolio with handles from behind the desk. He hands you the book and drops the portfolio heavy on the floor. 

“Here.” He tells you, rubbing his palms on the sides of his pants out of what you think is nerves. “It’s obviously not everything, but you can start here, I guess. Or stop there, too. If you get sick of it.”

You say nothing, but you move to sit on the floor, opening the spiral sketchbook. It’s not all pretty or refined or finished. It’s a hand and an eye and the face of a friend and a tree and a body of water. It’s all scribbled and jagged, and there’s bits that are smooth, smudged over and shaded in a way that makes you feel like if you touched it, it would feel like skin. There’s splotches of red and yellow, blues and greens, a random water color on one page, ink on the next. 

And when you get close to the end, it’s all you. 

It’s not much, but it’s more than you expected. There’s no more mistakes here, nothing unfinished or crossed out or scribbled over. He’s careful about it. You’re speechless. 

You pull the portfolio into your lap and open the flap. Pages of all varying sizes and textures are stuffed inside. These pieces are much more refined. He’s worked on them for longer, maybe for a class. He has an unbelievable eye for the human body, how it bends and folds. You hate to think about how these are hidden away behind his desk. You’d put them up around the city, and on bulletin boards in cafe’s, and over every inch of your walls in your own apartment.

It makes you feel a little bit emotional, here on his floor with his soul in your hands. There’s this urge you have, to hug him, to push his hair from his eyes, to kiss his hands. You hold one page in between your fingers, the torso of a man and his arms around a woman, her head lying back against his chest. You stand up, and you look at him with your watery eyes, and you turn to walk away. 

You swing a leg over the weird, out in the open bath tub, and settle down inside, looking down at the piece you took. Dabi’s footsteps are slow as he approaches you, crouches down next to the tub and rests his forearms on it.

“You can have that one.” He says, resting his chin against his arm. “Or any of them. Tell me, and it’s yours.”

You don’t know how to tell him you want it all. Selfishly, you’d take every single piece if he gave them to you. 

You look at him, thumbing the corner of the page, yours now. You keep opening and closing your mouth like you want to speak. You want to tell him thank you, and you probably should if he’s really letting you keep it, but it’s more than that. Thank you for letting me see you. I have nothing like this that can show you the inside of my soul, but you can reach through my ribs if you want to.

His hand comes up to rest behind your head, the brush of his thumb against your neck, tender. You lean into it and close your eyes. When you open them, he’s much closer now, so close that leaning forward makes you bump noses. He smiles. 

“Will you stay?” It’s not a question of just to night, but forever, you think. Or at least that’s how it feels to you. You nod. 

“God, yes.” You answer, like you’ve been waiting for him to ask, like you’re whole life has led up to this moment in this empty bathtub. He brushes his lips against yours like he’s asking permission. You give him the slightest nod. 

He kisses you. 

[randomlywanderingmoth]

FANSERVANT: Caster of Blessings

(picture created in picrew)

SERVANT CLASS: "Are- are you seriously asking that? Go back up the header and read that again." ALTERNATIVE NAMES: Kat. "Kat for the English speakers. Phonetically sounds like Cat. Yes I'm human, these are just a funny blessing." Neko-chan. "Neko-chan for the Japanese speakers, cuz Neko means Cat, heheh." Emma. "Wait, how the heck do you know that? I mean- it IS my name, and I don't mind you using it, but… that's the name of my Pseudo half… I mean, I guess if you're referring to the very normal human me, then that's fine I guess?"

TRUE NAME: "- woah woah woah hold on a hot minute here, I was gonna do a whole song and dance! Lemme have this!" True Name information presently sealed. "Thank you, dossier."

===

"Anyway, let's rip the band-aid off now, I'm a Pseudo-Servant. To make an extraordinarily long story short, I was a Master in a Grail War, and Caster was my Servant. A whole buncha buncha stuff happened, and I ended up inheriting her Saint Graph. Obviously, I didn't have the cat-ears or cat-tail prior to inheriting my Saint Graph. Don't worry about them too much."

"Oh- oh right, I should give a long-form description of what my deal is. Anyway, I'm the Caster of Blessings. I was gonna be cagey and tell you to call me Kat, but since the dossier blew my cover yeah you can call me Emma. I'm a hedge mage- was a hedge mage- that got tangled up in a Grail War. I ended up summoning the original Caster of Blessings, the one that wouldn't have been a Pseudo-Servant. We bonded, as people do, and I learned that she… didn't exactly like being the Caster of Blessings. It almost didn't matter, except that it turned out I was also compatible to hold that Saint Graph."

"Anyway, at one point… well, my memories are a jumble. I blame either the Throne or the Kaleidoscope, maybe both, but either she gave it to me after taking a fatal wound to let me keep being in the Grail War because she found my wish beautiful, or I took a fatal wound and she sacrificed her life to infuse me with her Saint Graph so I could survive, or I ended up waking up to my own potential as a Mage and we won the Grail and her half of the wishes on the Grail was to let go of her Saint Graph and it peeled off her and stuck to me… I'm rambling, sorry. Presumably, every path in the Kaleidoscope that lead to me becoming the Pseudo-Servant holding her Saint Graph merged, hence my jumbled memories. Presumably there's also memories in there of me being the Caster of Blessings that I summoned, but I'm thankful to be deprived of those memories in this summoning- I don't need that existential recursive headache, please and thanks."

"As the bearer of her Saint Graph, I incidentally also inherited her memories. And, lemme tell ya, I get why she wanted to leave. How many years, decades, centuries, millennia, do you think you could spend, trying to help people? How long can you work, in- I was gonna say in a Sisyphean effort, but even Sisyphus would object to this. I remembered all of it. All the effort, to try to help Humanity. To fix the mess I made- er, she made. Erm- disregard that."

"Anyway, as the Caster of Blessings, her job was as the name implies. To travel the world, to impart blessings unto humanity. To help fix the problems of the people, then to flee when they learned those problems were, on some level, her fault in the first place. Before you ask, no, her legend will never make mention of any of this, I wouldn't be saying it all if I thought it would."

"Anyway, she traveled, as you do, blessed people, as she could, and learned that… well, it's remarkably difficult to permanently quash the darker natures of humanity. She would say impossible, but I've a pedantic mindset to say it technically isn't impossible. But anyway. To give humans wealth is to invite greed, to give them talent is to rouse envy. Attempting to reconcile conflict only planted grudges to incite further outrage. Perhaps none of those in the moment, but given time, good things seem reluctant to ever last. The apple will always find its way to rot in the end."

"Eventually, she gave up. Because of course she did. Because you can say that, after seeing every attempt to help people crumble and fail, you would still keep trying, but immortality does not typically include immortal determination and willpower. Those are still very mortal, and, trust me, after thousands of years your resolve would also falter."

"One day, though, she met someone. Or, someone met her… the memories are difficult here. That someone didn't want to be remembered, if I had to guess- but anyway. They suggested a simple idea to her. The living person can retire, and her ever unending self-appointed task can be left to her memories. Engrave her existence on the Throne of Heroes."

"… she had the tiniest sliver of resolve left, and it was enough to do this final deed. To leave her task to a Saint Graph. But the Ghost Liner who held that Saint Graph, for a time, was her. Her memories, given form. Still uncontent. Still left to meekly tend the ever-turning nature of humanity."

"And then she was summoned to a silly Grail War by a silly girl with silly aspirations that were barely alive. And that silly girl wanted… so many things. And the Caster of Blessings had one more blessing that she hadn't ever given before, not in this way."

"And so, the original Caster of Blessings took her final retirement, and her erstwhile Master was stepped up to the line. The Pseudo-Servant, Caster of Blessings. That's me."

PARAMETERS:

Strength: E+ "… what's with that look? I'm a Caster. Base STR is what you get." Endurance: D+ "Wow, even as a Caster I have better than base Endurance. Neat." Agility: C+ "I know I have cat motifs going on but I am also a Caster. Be glad you got this." Mana: A+ "Don't be fooled, I can actually blow through my mana supply in a real hurry if I mismanage it." Luck: B- "My luck is actually pretty okay. That malus? I have a faint-but-constant urge to Test My Luck, and you don't need a bad luck streak to get screwed over, you just need one really bad hit." Noble Phantasm: EX "Okay so we can get back to this if I ever I pull out my True Name but even without it, the Noble Phantasm that I DO make regular use of is also still EX rank. It's pretty buckwild."

SKILLS:

"Now, disclaimer, I'm not giving you the proper names of my Skills. Those are sealed up along with my True Name. Don't worry, you'll still get an idea of my deal from the listed."

Item Construction (B+ Rank): "My primary Magecraft allows me to command, manipulate, and reinforce thread and fabric essentially at will. You'd be surprised how strong and durable cotton yarn is when reinforced by such high level Magecraft. It's a point of note, I can't just use straight fabric like shirts or jackets, but if I can unravel the yarn from like a scarf, I always have a weapon. And yes, the stuff I make is quantifiably powerful. Cool magic swords and axes, suits of armor? As long as I have enough thread, sure. The original Caster of Blessings was a lot more deft with this, but I'm capable enough in my own right."

Territory Creation (A- Rank): "I'm also able to delineate and define a 'home' territory, making it my Workshop- and it's a pretty ridiculously powerful Workshop at that, Temple-grade. The only issue, aside from the ritual to delineate that Temple, is that I can only denote one 'home' at a time. Make a new one? Old one stops being a Temple. Pretty sure there's some mythology somewhere about cats being protectors of homes. That's my excuse for now, anyway."

Presence Concealment (B+ Rank): "Ever seen a cat get sneaky? Yeah, I can do that pretty good. What's funny is, even if I get into a fight, if I just put a bit of mana into maintaining my concealment, I don't lose ranks after entering combat like standard Presence Concealment! Ever tried fighting someone your mind refuses to stick to? It's buckwild."

Golden Rule (C Rank): "Ah, erm… quick come up with something- right, y'know those Japanese lucky cats? Maneki-Neko? Sure, this is totally based on that. Anyway, it's not that I have cash, it's that I have, let's say, a remarkable talent for falling into wealth as needed."

Natural Body (A Rank): "Neat, huh? I get pluses to my STR, END, and AGI stats cuz of this, and my body is way more fit than it was when I was alive! Bonus, hostile effects that would negatively impact those stats don't work unless they can bypass this skill! No half measures were taken in the creation of the Caster of Blessings, and that sure as heck is reflected in this skill!"

Clairvoyance (A- Rank): "A byproduct of my Noble Phantasm, my eyes can even theoretically perceive the future if I try! The, uh, the minus is because… I'll take the blame on this, pretty sure original Caster never had this problem, but I'm not as good at controlling it. I can restrain it, and I can use Mystic Eye Killers on it to basically turn it off so it isn't quite so distracting, but… I'll be honest, I give full props to all the Servants who can use a skill like this on the fly, no problem. Clairvoyance is not nearly the free win that I used to think it was."

Divinity (B Rank): "Oh if I didn't have this it'd be real freakin' funny when I started passing around blessings like candy. The only reason I'm not A Rank is because my Saint Graph doesn't make it to god level, and both the original and I take serious umbrage with that. I mean, after everything she's done, hasn't she earned the right to return to- ah, sorry, nearly spilled the beans there, eheheh."

NOBLE PHANTASM:

Fatal Curiosity: Mystic Eyes of Observation

"Curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction brought it back. That's the whole phrase, by the way. Bet you've only heard the first half, heheh."

"Anyway, my eyes are capable of completely deconstructing the information presented to it in nearly any situation. A single glance and I can fully discern anything about anyone. Presence Concealment, True Name Concealment, Illusions, and similar effects basically mean nothing to me. I can read off nearly everything about any Servant or similar hostile in a matter of seconds. True Name, Parameters, Favorite Ice Cream Flavor, Skills, Fears and Weaknesses, Noble Phantasms, so on and so forth. It's a matter of seconds and not instantly because I need a bit to process and filter out the junk data from the tasty stuff, but the more mana I pump into it the faster the processing goes. At full power, yeah, it's basically instant."

"Speaking of stuff I can process instantly, the moment I see any sort of hostile action- an attack, a directed curse, a trap, or so on, my Mystic Eyes will instantly process and provide autonomous countermeasures. Oh, and bonus? If it's Magecraft, my Eyes will reverse-engineer it basically automatically. As in, if I see Magecraft used, I can use it too. Sadly, I can't take the information from previous summonings, and it's only the information of my Pseudo-Servant self, so I don't have all of humanity's Magecraft at my fingertips, but it's still a whole lotta lot to work with."

"Oh- that all does take a bit of a toll on mana, but even at rest my Eyes are constantly processing information- just at a slower rate than near-instant. At rest I could tell you the weak spots in the local construction or geography, I could autonomously counter minor Magecraft, I can even read minds. Or- rather, I have to. The Eyes never fully power down. It's… rather distracting at times, so I wear the glasses to turn it off when it's not needed."

"No secrets, no deceptions, nothing may be hidden from my eyes. Let us bear witness, together, to what happens next- FATAL CURIOSITY."

[inthemiddle0feverywhere]

Bad Batch Season 3 Episode 4 thoughts (scattered) and initial reactions (rambling)

Nothing is even proof read and my brain is faster than my fingers so

Also I have very long nails and often click the wrong button

Anyway

Spoilers below the cut

(Update I rewatched and had more thoughts)

SCREAMING SCREAMING THE WHOLE TIME

God I was so stressed now I need to rewatch because I know how it goes and I don’t need to be anxious

Batcher kicking crosshair’s seat lmaoooo

Needing to change outfits “isn’t this better?🥰” “No” 😂😂 we officially have ray of sunshine and grumpy black cloud dynamic (my favorite)

Also only being able to see his eyes 🔥🔥🔥 (even if it looks like he’s wearing a toilet seat- seriously what is that thing)

I love that omega’s pony tail has a little bump at the back, thinking about when I was little and trying to put my hair up by myself god it was such a lumpy and bumpy mess. I doubt anyone would have shown her how on tantiss only telling her she needs to keep her hair out of her face. She’s just a little girl who had to take care of herself all those months. Like the kaminoans were bald, the other clones were men. Where would she have even learned how to do a pony? Emrie? (Hunter? 🤭)

“I can take half of them out before they know what’s happening” “how about we try not killing everyone in sight? 🥰🤗” “booooooooo”

I just know Cross is secretly proud of his gambling sister kicking ass and hustling money

The captain gave me such gross vibes I just know he smells bad

Crosshair clicking his tongue at batcher idk it did something to me it was so cute

And then her licking him later like sorry crossy you’re a dog dad now

Speaking of dads: “I’ve never seen you or your dad before” *nick miller screams.* CROSSDAD! CROSSDAD!!! 🥰🥰🥰

WELCOME TO JURASSIC PARK

I know Dee is the voice of Batcher- do you think he made all the animals sounds? Is he just in a sound booth making animal noises

Ugh sobbing at the reunion 😭😭😭 literally water works

Noooo what is this face off at the end everyone put your eyebrows back up in a relaxed position and unclench those jaws and fists

Does Omega’s glove have a bottle opener on it?

I can’t wait for the reaction to the new puppy 😄

Also guys, omega kept saying we need to contact Hunter and Wrecker (sad she doesn’t say echo :/) so I think Crosshair knows about Tech. Either she told him while she visited him or perhaps Hemlock told him as another form of torture, that his brother fell trying to rescue him (maybe that’s why he look soooo terrible in the hallway on ep 1) I’m sure omega confirmed it also

Also I was expecting the clone cadets to pop out, I know they said they were taking them to pabu but still

Imagine omega does meet them and gets a lil crush on one omg Hunter would lose it lmaoooo

[robodove]

SHOW US THE PIRATE STUFF DO THE MERMAID STUFF ALKNASDAS

OKAY I FINALLY HAVE A LITTLE TIME ARRGAGRG I hope this aimless infodump is readable

so! Their designs and junk are a mess rn but I do have some stuff of them!!

Ignore the little dragon in the last I'm still working on Lloyd's whole... business. And! Don't mind the text in the pink one, I was just tryna think up silly nicknames!

Anyways! They aren't really... Traditional pirates? Y'know.. cause their crew size is like 5 + a child and ancient beast.

Under division is a small ramble

Cole's the "captain" and is a selkie (although I know they're usually seals I accidentally chose a sea lion)! He's the sea lion in the pictures and I'm desperately trying to work his skin into the design. I thought it'd be silly since he was raised in dance and entertainment.. and hey! Sea lions are known for that too!

(he wasn't meant to look so forsaken here, sorry Cole)

Jay is a mermaid (thing?) When in the water, he has the lower half reminiscent of an electric eel (I saw reminiscent as there are some major differences)! No one really has powers in this but he can still shock like that,, Ed and Edna are still human in this and I'm trying to remember if they still lived at a scrapyard or a shipyard.

Both Kai and Nya are only half mermaid! Nya ended up inheriting way more mermaid traits than her brother, who doesn't even have a tail in water, but still has a lot of human drawbacks. She can only breathe underwater for so long and ironically Kai can last down there longer. He just chooses not to since I thought it'd be funny to still let him be scared of water in this 😭 sorry Kai. He still has the recognizable sharper teeth and has bits and flashes of shimmery scales but is overall the most human of the bunch once you count out Cole's unskinned form.

I couldn't resist myself on Zane and ended up making him a siren. Mainly because.. bird! And also if he was going to be organic, I wanted to isolate him from the other sea related creatures. He has the wings and feathers of a gyrfalcon and can't swim as well in the ocean! He ends up bonding with Kai over this Kai originally hadn't liked him too much! Reasonably so since.. y'know.. sirens eat people. And mermaids in this.. although Zane eats human things as he was raised on it by a still very human Dr. Julien (who I guess is more of a bird-oriented wildlife scientist in this? ornithologist?). insert joke about him being a hand raised bird.

I don't have my sketchbook with me right now so I'm scrambling for pictures but ! Like all their designs, he's still a work in progress. Will most likely make his legs longer or something but this is just my ideas LOL

And anyways! Onto Lloyd! (And the others?)

I was struggling to decide what Lloyd should be,, like? A dragon could still very much work and his normal version is already so cool?? However, I ended up on leviathan.. a baby one. The serpentine aren't decided but Lloyd's still pretty much not taken seriously by the town. Still winds up being taken in by the "ninja!"

Garmadon is still locked up, although now at the bottom of the ocean! The Skulkin are drowned/dead pirates?

Wu is who I've been struggling to decide on as well! For whatever reason I've been contemplating making him like just some statue in the Destiny's Bounty that speaks to them.

There's plenty of other things going on,, Kai and Nya come to them on accident and Jay is over the moon to see other moons and wants to show them their "ways" despite having never even met others before. Cole is desperately trying to keep everyone in one place as they've accidentally made the perfect collection of the world's most valuable pelts.

Kai still raises Nya at the forge (which in this, is beachside), but years later there's a rise in pricing for the scales of mers and the boy decides that they need to leave in effort to protect her. Nya is devastated because this is their home! Where else would they even go?? They barely have any cash! Kai's decision is further inland AND with the money they get from selling the forge. Yadda, yadda, the buyer turns on them and they wind up in the ocean near their home! Kai's knocked cold, which is for the better as Nya swims them further and further into open ocean.

For the first time, Nya meets another mer as she tries to save her brother, and he helps them aboard a ship! The Destiny's Bounty! (Or perhaps a ship before it? It's all still up in air)

I'd expand more but I'm out of time </3 please give any suggestions if you'd like to! I'd always appreciate criticism

[stargazing15]

Hello again

Bob x Fem!reader

Summary: Will you give Bob another chance?

Warnings: angst and fluff I guess

Previous: Oh how I was wrong - Next: What a timing

Enjoy!

It was now becoming a regular thing, Bob talking to your door and you listening on the other side.

He talked about the others, mostly Phoenix, Rooster's new flame, rambling about a couple of his failed cooking sessions and of course how sorry he was about his actions. You were still contemplating if you could see him or not, but for now this was okay. You were actually surprised by yourself by giving him a chance and by calming down with his voice. It was still extremely busy at work and listening to Bob made you forget about it all. And for Bob talking to you, or at least he hoped you were listening, worked therapeutic for him.

The first time you said something back, you could hear Bob's voice break, he finally got the confirmation you were always listening. And the fact that you did made his heart flutter for a moment. Could this mean that there still might be chance for him?

"Beautiful angel, hi." You heard through the door after the doorbell rang.

"Hi Bob."

"Have you had dinner?" There was a hint of something hopeful in his voice.

"Actually not yet, why?"

"I, uh, I might have brought Chinese takeout. And I was hoping we could share, if you want to. You don't have to see me if we eat, I wanted to try something different. I uh-"

"It's okay Bob, it's actually a nice idea and it helps me not breaking my head over what to eat. What a sec."

You quickly went to take a cutlery because you know how clumsy Bob could be with chopsticks, and a blanket. When you opened the door, you were met with a nervous looking Bob. Looking at you with the same big eyes as when you met him. Those beautiful eyes that had your immediate attention and made you melt within seconds.

"Oh, you look, you look beautiful, angel." A small tear started to form in his eyes, by seeing you again in person and it made him realize how much he really missed you. He wanted to hold you so badly, but had to control himself not to mess it up by overwhelming you.

"Here," you said with a small smile while giving him the blanket and fork, "for your butt and to prevent a mess."

"You didn't forget about that?" He smiled softly back.

"How could I? It was funny." Your growling stomach interrupted the small conversation.

"Oh, yeah here, this is for you."

"Thank you. Would you mind if I..." You pointed at the door, getting a little nervous. You liked the change, but you also liked it the way it was. The thought was still lingering in your head if you could ever trust him again. Bob nodded and closed the door.

"Bob?"

"Yes?"

"Thank you for understanding. Why did you do that that night?" Before he answered you heard a small sob coming from the other side of the door.

"I still don't know and I know I'm not making it any easier by saying that, but I genuinely don't know why I did what I did."

"Do you love her?"

"I hate her, she disgusts me, I hate that she had that kind of power over me to let me make such a foolish decision. I hate everything she said and did. I feel sick for what I've done and that I ruined what we had. Even Phoenix hates me and I can't even blame her." Bob was half in tears, half fuming thinking about her and you were shocked with his sudden outburst. You had never heard him so mad. "That bitch made me ruin everything good I ever had in my life, the best thing that ever happened to me." You choked on your food when you hear Bob said the b-word.

"Everything okay?"

"Yeah, I just never heard you talk like that before. Does that mean that-"

"Hell yeah, I dumped her, for good. Done with that, blocked and everything." You were already trying to imagine how Bob looked like telling you all that. The thought of him probably blushing, making big eyes and tilting his head sideways made you smile.

"Did I hear a smile behind the door?"

"Maybe, I, uh, maybe I'm a little bit happy because she didn't fit with you. When did you break it off?"

"That's actually a compliment. Uh, the first day I stood here. I was still so filled with adrenaline and guilt, I needed to apologize. It sound a bit unbelievable, but it's thanks to Hangman, I started to think about what I was doing. He, uh, smacked my head, hard. But I deserved it. And the Phoenix told me about your past, I needed you know that it was all me at fault. It had nothing to do with you. "

You interrupted Bob with a small laugh "Do I need to thank Jake? Never expected that one."

"Yeah. Thank you for listening, it must have been painful."

"I think I needed to hear what you said that day to stop sulking and hiding at home."

"Y/N, beautiful angel?"

"Hmm"

"I am so sorry for everything. I miss us. Do you think we can ever be friends again?"

"Aren't you my door-buddy already? I think we can be friends again, but I think I need some more time. It really hurt Bob and I'm scared "

"Thank you. Thank you for giving me a possible second chance."

Your doorbell rang fanatically, there were even some bonks on your door.

"Coming! Don't smash my door!" You were greeted with a gigantic hug and as you tried to wrap your arms around the person, you felt another body, more muscular and at the other arm another back. You took a step back to process what just happened.

"Nat? Oh, hi guys, come in I guess. I just texted you half an hour ago." You texted Nat if she would like to come over but apparently her coming alone over didn't really succeed as she was joined with some ecstatic looking pilots.

"I couldn't wait to see you and Rooster here saw the message too and yeah, now we're here. Hangman and Coyote were still doing pushups and Payback had to get his kids from school. We will fill them in later. Girl, you look good. Come here, let me take a good look." Phoenix took your hand and let you twirl.

"I have to agree with Nat. You look a lot better with some color and without those sunglasses. Hangman and Coyote are to regret having to do push ups and miss your radiant smile. Do you still have those sunglasses, for me, your smile is very bright."

"Are you seriously flirting with her, Rooster? It's good seeing you." Mickey nudged your shoulder.

"She looks good and I'm feeling like giving compliments."

"Thank you Mickey, and Bradley I didn't mind it." You winked at him.

"By the way, I know you have this thingy going on with a cute nurse, so I know you're not flirting."

"Okay, hold on, how do you know this?" Phoenix questioned you.

"Is there someone we need to know off?" Mickey eyed you suspiciously.

"Don't get mad okay, Bob came by a while ago, I think it's been more then a month already and-"

"HE DID WHAT?? I'm going to kick his butt! Or even worse, if I have to eject him, just say the word." Phoenix looked like she meant it.

"Wait a minute, something over a month? I know you're still mad at him Nat, but haven't you noticed he's been happier and smiling more lately?" Mickey noticed. The three of them started to talk and mumble all at the same time.

"Stop being mad at him okay! I'm the only one allowed to be mad at him, can you listen first, please." You stopped the chatter in your living room.

"Sorry Y/N" the three of them were looking at you like kicked puppies.

"I recently learned he dumped her, for good. I haven't forgiven him or forgotten about what happened. I'm trying to get over over it and listening to Bob is really helping."

"Knowing you and Bob it actually does make sense." Mickey encouraged you, he laid one hand one your shoulder. At first it felt weird physical contact, the group hug already forgotten, it had been a while ever since you withdrew yourself inside your place. But since it was was Mickey's hand, you felt at ease, even happy.

"You're a strong one Y/N, I'm amazed by how you're doing now. We were actually all, and with all I really mean everyone, scared when you left. With you inviting Nat over, does that mean our sis is back?"

"I think so, yes." Bob had started to melt the heart he froze after hurting you and your friends here are warming it up even more. This time you were not letting go of this wonderful feeling.

It was afternoon when your friends arrived and after midnight when they left. There was a lot of catching up to do, Bob might have told you everything, but hearing them say it in person made it even more enjoyable. Eventually they called Hangman, Coyote and Payback to surprise them by letting them hear your voice.

Two weeks had flown by after you had seen your friends, after some long days at work you and Bob still had managed to find time to talk. Today was friday, normally Bob would come around, but since it was pouring outside, you weren't expecting him anymore. If you were being honest with yourself, you were really looking forward to hearing and seeing him for a second, disappointment started to sink in as you were cooking dinner. You were making your famous spaghetti and of course you were making a lot, so you could freeze some in for busy days.

And then your doorbell rang. Without thinking further you you went for the door with your apron on covered in some tomato stains, hair in the messiest bun in history and your bunny-slippers. You were dumbfounded when you saw a drenched Bob standing on your porch.

"You came?" You were able to whisper, surprising yourself by being able to say something. A couple raindrops flew on your face and that made you realize how drenched Bob was. "Oh my god, come in." You took his arm and pulled him inside.

"Angel, you don't have to-"

"Stop it, your soaked, wait here and get out of these wet clothes, I'll grab some dry-"

"No, no, you don't have anything-"

"Did you forget my lounge wardrobe already?" You smirked at him.

"Oh."

After letting Bob dry himself and change in one of your oversized joggers and shirt, you found yourself staring at him. He still locked cute in your clothes. They fit in length, but the shirt made him look smaller as it was a very large. Something in you wanted to take a picture, but that might be a little creepy right?

"Are you okay with me being here, beautiful angel? If it's too much please say so. I don't want to overstep."

"It's okay, I pulled you in. And I think I am ready for the next step, to see you."

Bob's stare landed on you, those big eyes, they were already doing all the talking. They were filled with adoration, but there was a slight hint in them of him being scared. His hand was resting on his neck. You could see a thousand thoughts racing through his mind.

"C-can we start over again? I wish I could erase all the bad. I want to start over, with a clean slate."

You reached your hand out, agreeing, "Hi, I am Y/N Y/L/N."

Bob follows your lead by shaking your hand. "Hi, my name is Robert Floyd, but my friends call me Bob."

"Hi Bob, can I say you look dashing? And right now my famous spaghetti is ready, would you like to join?" You still couldn't help yourself to giggle at Bob's cute outfit.

"I would like that very much. And thank you for liking my style." A blush crept on Bob's cheeks, he was the happiest man on earth that you were letting him in your life again.

Taglist: @mrsjaderogers @bradleybeachbabe @mavrellover91 @iamdannyday @rhirhikingston @luckyladycreator2 @cycbaby

Tagform

[itti-bitti-yibbi]

Here's the completed Skip Narry from the other day!

Also, a little fic thingy I wrote! (Unrelated to the au posts)

The gist of it is that Stanley had a nightmare (about Skip Button ending) and the Narrator comforts him

A crash, and a thud. The Narrator looked back toward the office, where Stanley had dozed off in the Employee Lounge, to find the man in question in a trembling ball on the floor.

"Stanley? What are you doing?"

No response. Stanley's hands were tucked against him as he curled up on the floor, and his thoughts were such a jumbled mess that The Narrator couldn't possibly make anything out.

"Oh goodness," The Narrator muttered, concerned, and frankly, feeling quite out of his depth. Emotions were not exactly his strong suit. "Perhaps- perhaps I should leave you be for a bit-"

At this Stanley jolted upward frantically, revealing his puffy eyes and tear-stained face.

'Nono! Don't leave!'

The Narrator paused, then sighed. It appeared he was going to have to deal with this after all. He proceeded to project himself into one of his smaller forms, blinking into existence a few feet in front of Stanley.

The man watched as he sat down across from him, folding his hands in his lap.

"I suppose you've had a nightmare, then."

Stanley nodded, bringing his knees up to his chest and wrapping his arms around them.

"Do you want to tell me about it?"

Stanley hesitated, glanced at The Narrator's face, looked away again, and shook his head.

The Narrator sighed again. "Then what am I doing here?"

Stanley swiped at the tears pricking his eyes. 'Can you just... Talk? About something- anything.'

The Narrator, blinked in surprise. "You're asking me to talk? That's- Stanley did you hit your head or something? You've never seemed much for my ramblings before. What kind of nightmare-"

He was interrupted by Stanley essentially tackling him, wrapping his arms around him and tucking his face into The Narrator's shoulder. The Narrator, thoroughly confused, returned the embrace gingerly.

"Goodness Stanley, you've never been so clingy before," The Narrator mumbled, patting Stanley's back as he spoke. "I can't imagine what sort of nightmare could have possibly provoked this behavior."

Stanley only responded by gripping The Narrator even tighter, almost painfully so. The Narrator sighed and raised a hand to Stanley's hair.

"It's alright, Stanley, I'm here. I'm not going anywhere." He kept a soothing tone, gently stroking Stanley's hair as the man cried silently into his shoulder.

"You're alright. Everything is going to be okay. I'm here. You're here. You're safe. All is well."

'I'm sorry.'

"Oh Stanley, whatever could you be sorry for? You haven't done anything."

'I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'msorryimsorryimsorryimsorry-'

Stanley's mind continued to repeat the same phrase, over and over, as his sobbing began anew.

"Oh Stanley..." The Narrator said again, holding the same soothing tone, despite how Stanley's behavior frightened him. He tightened his own grip on the man, feeling the sobs rack his body.

"Oh my dear, dear Stanley. I can't even imagine what you might have dreamt to make you feel this way, I'm basically immune to anything you could possibly do to a person. Whatever happened in that dream isn't real, it's just your silly little brain putting random bits of information together into an incoherent training exercise for your consciousness to do while your body is resting."

Stanley shook his head just a tiny bit, most likely to himself. The man's apologetic mantra had stopped, replaced yet again by muddled half-thoughts that The Narrator couldn't make sense of.

The Narrator hummed a little bit.

"You know, Stanley, every time I think I've got you figured out, you do something like this, that surprises me." The Narrator chuckled. "I never would have expected you to ask me to just sit here and speak to you, under any circumstances. I was under the impression that you were sick and tired of me."

A momentary pause.

"I prefer this, more."

Stanley nodded, his face still pressed into the Narrator's shoulder.

'Me too.'

The Narrator closed his eyes, listening to Stanley's breathing even and his heartbeat slow as he calmed himself. For a moment, The Narrator even allowed himself to enjoy the warmth that radiated from the man in his arms.

After several moments of silence between the two, Stanley released his hold on The Narrator, breaking the embrace. He sat back, and they looked at each other.

'Thank you.'

The Narrator cleared his throat, suddenly embarrassed. "Yes, well... You're welcome."

Stanley smiled, wiping his face clear and getting to his feet. He reached out, offering his hand to The Narrator to help him to his feet.

'Let's go on now.'

The Narrator looked at Stanley's hand for a moment before taking it, and letting the man pull him to his feet.

"Yes, let's."

[birthdaycakeplate]

same anon asking for Blitzbee fic recommendations, tried to message you but unfortunately your account is set to only people you follow doing that.

but hmmm, I'd say my personal taste in fics are actually slow burns, I really like fics that focus on Blitzwing and Bee forming an unlikely relationship based on their 'home lives' in a sense of it, where neither are understood and often viewed as annoyances/loose canons leading both to a feeling of isolation and a mild desperation/willingness to connect with anyone even at the risk of 'treason' for interacting with the other side.

I also enjoy the progression for Blitzwing of seeing Bumblebee as a harmless amusement to him somehow becoming a bit of a hyper focus that causes the big bad con to develop some empathy and *gasp* morals.

Meanwhile Bee is just a cocky little bastard who refuses to accept Blitzwing as the actual threat he is and then feelings are caught when his view of the world is shifted and he finds out Decepticons are also actually just people with complex feelings and motivations (also bonus if break down of autobots 'all warbuilds are evil because' bs is broken down)

I realize now I'm rambling so apologies its just a very fun ship to babble about.

If I was to ask for any fic, if you could set one in your Nemesis AU that be amazing, the size difference you give in that is spectacular like omg I stare so politely.

Also the concept is just very fun to me and I'd love to see that au world expanded.

As for spicy content I don't really have any ideas? Sorry I'm actually terrible at writing it my only preferences are Blitz top and preferably consensual.

for ease if we keep talking like this I'll sign off as

Curiosity

GOD, of course I invited you to talk with me and then blocked you from doing that elekkeem 🌝 I think I fixed my messaging where I’ll get your stuff now, if you’d like to try again 😭 I swear I’m always this dysfunctional.

But anyway, your message here is good, true, andfantastic. I CRY. Your view on the ship is perfect and pure D,8

I LOVE when Blitzwing is stunned when his desire to squash the useless yellow gnat and be done with him is suddenly evaporated by the sudden realization this guy is slowly becoming the only thing in his life fun and full of life (and kind of precious if he’s being honest, ok???). Because their chemistry is crazy- they’re both wrekcless little freaks when left to their own devices, but full time loyal, fucked up little creatures to the ones closest to them. The handful Blitzwing can afford to let in to his life, even if ‘friends’ isn’t the word he’d use, and the few Bumblebee can make real connections with, when he’s a mischievous ant with a complex to make ‘something great’ of himself.

But he already IS great and bad boy Blitzwing needs to make it his immediate life’s goal to get that through to him and give him lots of love. (I ramble, too, you’re in good company)

I’m bad at stating my thoughts, I get overwhelmed when it’s my own emotions. But I typed and retyped something along the lines of how I’m noticing we have lots of similarities here in terms of what our favorite flavor of Blitzbee is 🩷🩷🩷 I bet lots of ppl who read this would agree with you and appreciate you throwing out there the love language of these complete messes of men✨

Does that mean my attempt to translate these tastes into fiction beside my ideas will make for good reading and also provide you a happy source of top Blitz/blitzbee? God, I HOPE so. You deserve it and I’m going to try.

I have the first chapter half written, because-

OH MY GOD, YOU LIKE MY AUTBOTS JOIN THE NEMESIS AU STUFF EKEKKEE

OoooOOOHhhh aAHHHHHHHH

I SCREEEEEEAM 💕💕💕 thank you???!!! That means so much to ME and makes me insanely happy, because I was so surprised when you said that, and I REALIZED how amazing it is to hear a thing like that. That I’ve got a thing going I didn’t imagine would become liked enough for a fic request for it.

I’m hoping to finish this first chapter by next Friday. Probably sooner than that? But I’m scared life won’t allow it. Thanks for your messages💕

(The other anons who messaged me, too, about some top Blitzwing fic stuff, I see you and I’m elated to hear from so many of you, thank you✨)

[fortunatelychaoticphantom]

Oh my god oh my god oH MY GOD

I was going to wait for the opportunity to rewatch Barbie so I could make sure my opinion was solidly based and not just vibes, but with all the nominations talk right now I am losing my god damn mind.

Barbie is a shit movie.

I've said before that I was extremely excited about the movie and genuinely enjoyed every single second of it but was absolutely completely and irrevocably disappointed with it. It was a bad movie for so many reasons, and I'm gonna start talking about it (despite it not being as fresh in my mind, unfortunately).

Barbie is an incoherent mess that has no idea what it actually wants to be;

50% of the movie is Barbie having an existential crisis, that turns into a quest, that turns into low self esteem issues, that turns into anti-capitalist and anti-establishment shenanigans, that turns into parental issues, that turn into feminist issues about societal expectations of womanhood, that turns into civil rights issues, that turns into absolutely nothing because not a single one of these issues is actually addressed in any sort of meaningful way, depends on handwaving solutions, if it bothers to give solutions at all, and is just a product low shelf bullshit feminism.

And then the other 50% of the movie is a meticulously crafted satirical metaphor for the treatment of women under the patriarchy, with intense emotional gravitas, unbelievably incredible acting, and a(n almost) perfect and complete narrative arc for the characters and the main conflict.

And yet, watching this shit show I am contantly asked by the narrative to take the first half of it seriously, but not the other half.

That's not how a movie works.

You cant make half a satire and half a hartfelt exploration of womanhood in post-modern society. It doesn't work like that. And the very simple fact is that only one of those narratives was actually well crafted and coherent, and it wasn't Barbie's. Don't even get me fucking started on that bullshit America Ferrera speach. I hate it. I hate so much. I was actively enraged while watching it. It was bullshit crowd pleasing half baked ramblings that literally had nothing to do with the godamn movie!!! The whole point, the whole Barbie storyline was about America's relationship with her daughter!!! What the fuck was that speach even about???!?!? At no point in the movie was the things she talked about an issue!!! I hate it. I hate. And I hate anyone who likes it. It's bad writing. It's bad storytelling. It's bad bad BADDD!!! The movie wanted it so much to be the emotional pinnacle, but it wasn't - I'm Kenough was. It's just so bad in so many ways that I can't even fully express here yet.

Look. There was a lot of potential in this movie, and so much love went into crafting it. But the bottom line is that this is a bad movie, created by a conglomerate for the sole purpose of selling products, while trying to be cool with kids and self critical without actually being critical (I can't even begin to form coherent thoughts on the mess that was in-movie Matel, so I just won't). This made the honest part of the movie a fucking mess, while leaving the metaphor close to a masterpiece, and yet I am expected to think otherwise for some reason unbeknownst to me.

This is a bad movie. Barbie is a bad character. Neither Greta Gerwig nor Margo Robbie deserve a nomination for this, no matter how talented they are, and they are.

Ryan Gosling is literally the only good thing about this movie. This was one of the greatest performances I have ever seen in my life. Award shows are absolutely pointless and stupid, but his is a worthy nomination nonetheless.

I really am sorry if you loved this movie. This is absolutely not about you. Like I said, I truly enjoyed watching it. I just don't think it has any merit beyond the Ken storyline.

[freakyama]

getting used to living alone and not with my abuser has been kind of wild on reflection. Like I still get scared when I hear loud noises upstairs. Sometimes I feel like I’m anticipating hearing her footsteps and trying to workout where she is, waiting for her to leave so I can go outside.

(Rambling abt abuse under the cut)

I think about how she used to tell me all the basic things I couldn’t do - she made out that I always messed it up, I was too disabled to do my laundry, or shopping, or whatever. Basic shit I wasn’t allowed to do because she could use it to complain on Facebook about how hard her life was, because of me. I think about how easy it’s been. I could always do it - maybe I’m such half a person, but she made me out to be such a slither of a person. It’s strange to realise you are more alive than you thought.

I booked my first dental appointment in 9 years yesterday - It feels embarrassing. I used to beg her to take me to the dentist, but she wouldn’t let me. At first I understood, because it’s expensive, but then I find out we had the money. She had my money for my disabilities, and she kept it for her. I don’t think she would’ve ever taken me to the dentist unless my teeth actually started to fall out - she didn’t take me to the opticians for 3 years - until I caused such a big fuss she couldn’t Facebook-mum her way out of. My pain only existed to her if she could get money from it, or use it to look like more of a victim. It’s weird not having her kill my plants out of spite when we fought her. I had this one plant I grew for five years, when I stopped talking to her, she’d killed it within the next week. She killed all my plants. I had about 20? 30? When I moved out I had one left. She’d use anything I used to cope against me - I was 18 and I begged her to let me go horse riding. We went a few times to groom the horses first, it was the only social interaction she’d let me experience in 5 years. But then I had a panic attack at the stables and she took it away as punishment.

It’s so strange to not live with that. I wonder if I’m too hard on her? I get my BPD from somewhere and it’s not my dad. I know how hard it is to have BPD, and not know what’s wrong with you. But also, I think about how she tried to kill me, said my dad would be ‘better off’ without me, how she’d pin me in corners and grab me during arguments when I’d try to leave. She’d film my breakdowns, play them back to me as a form of humiliation. She’d tell random people that I had an ED, and that I SH’d, and then she’d grab my arms and roll up my sleeves to show them. One time I refused. But only the once.

I’ve done some bad things because of my BPD, because I was being abused and I didn’t know it, but I think maybe being emotional and clingy on the internet is different to trying to kill someone? I don’t know. Am I as bad as her? I feel like I have some things inside me that say I’m not - my mother never said sorry when we were ‘close’. Her trying to kill me was nothing to her. She still tries to get to me. She sent me letters because I refused to talk to her, and she’d say ‘sorry’, but I don’t believe she knew why she was saying it. I’d try to tell her why I was so upset, and she’d say it wasn’t that bad, she’d get annoyed, she’d ice me. She was my primary carer and if I tried to tell her she was hurting me, no matter how gently, she’d stop talking to me for the week. I didn’t have anyone else and she knew that.

I try to hope it was subconscious - did she know she was hurting me? But she did so much to me. There’s a part of me that wonders if she knows, somewhere, exactly what she was doing. And then then I think about how much energy I have given to this woman - to trying not to hate her unfairly, and I wonder - has she ever given me such an understanding? I feel like I was always just a bad seed to her. I was just Difficult. I think she thought that when I was born. I was always a naughty kid, but I can’t remember why. I just remember being shouted at, I just remember being recorded. I just remember being a problem.

So it’s difficult. Living alone, I realise now how bad things were. There’s so much I think about, everyday I remember more. Everyday, I feel like it gets harder to understand her. I hear about what she does to my brother, my dad, and it’s hard. I consider myself quite understanding, and I have tried to understand her. But I feel like I can’t anymore. I don’t think she wants to be understood.

Idk. It’s hard to move from. I never thought this would happen to me. You never think - Oh I was abused. It doesn’t happen to you. It happens to other people, right? But doesn’t everything?

It feels like she’s a ghost in my flat. I’m haunted by the memories of how I’d live with her. I think it’s dying, but it’s slow. I have so many ghosts inside me. I hope one day, I’ll live alone and it will just be me.

[josiesramblies]

PSA!!!! THIS IS A MENTAL HEALTH BLOG!!! MDNI PLEASE!!! I Don't want to hurt anyone with my fucked up mind.

HIII! Welcome to Josie's Ramblies. I'm Josie, a Catholic, queer, bisexual, closeted transfem plural!!! In an effort to put the thoughts somewhere out of my mind I'm going to start making posts about my mental health for real this time. If you wish to ignore these, or know me irl and don't want to know THAT much about me, just block the #Josies Ramblies tag, otherwise welcome to my weird mind. Most of my posts are probably just whatever my s/o posted or MLP fanart anyways lol.

I will do my best to trigger tag everything in my posts but understand 1. I'm shit at tumblr, and 2. This is exhausting to me, please be patient with me if I miss something. In foresight of this though, let me explain a little more about myself. I suffer from OCD and MDD and have frequent struggles with scrupulosity, self-hatred, suicidal urges, aggressive intrusions, and more. All of this will be discussed here. I also swear fairly regularly. Expect religious and biblical imagry, as half of my life and my great conflict is that I (try) to be a devout Catholic in the midst of all this. Please do not send me hate on this topic even if matters of faith are a place we disagree on.

Lastly I'm a plural (we formed intentionally in 2022), and while we are in full control as to when we shift, you may see some posts from the rest of us as well. These posts will be under the tag #Josephposting or #Josephineposting respectively. Could you possible guess our actual name? lol.

I hope you have a wonderful day and if you wind up here I hope it doesn't hurt you too bad. Sorry for the mess I've made here, but I hope something can be valuable or useful. If this is all you ever read from me know that your life has value, and reaching out to what friends and family you have can only help in the long run, provided they treat you like friends and family.

"Stay Alive, stay alive for me. You will die, but not your life is free, Tale pride in what is sure to die."

[myers-meadow]

"so what im struggling with" *perks up in 'I overthink everything about fantasy'* May I offer my two cents? *heaves up a tome of thoughts*

"does raphael sleep in human or cambion form?" Material Plane snooze are in human form. Nine Circles snoozes are in cabion form.

"but horns" "how does he sleep with them? theyre quite large and tall and wide. extra soft pillow?" *points to that last thing* Yes! And/Or uses his arms like pillows on which to rest his head/cheek/chin.

"then theres the wings" "does one sometimes go underneath? when spooning are u in between the wings? or is he a belly sleeper?" *clears throat* Spooning the fiend can mean you get to be nestled between a pair of powerful wings. Since fiend is big and might sleep on either belly or on side, you either spoon him by laying on top of his back like an undersized security blanket or by laying on one of his wings and it feels no different to him than having slept on one of his arms. Alternatively, big fiend sleeps on side and you spoon him by laying underneath both wings and either scoot further up his body with your arms around his shoulders or scoot further down his body with your arms wrapped around his midriff. Final option (and my personal favorite) is big fiend sleeps on his side, you spoon him by scooting further down his body with your arms wrapped around his midriff, and you use the strong base of the fiend's lower wing as a pillow for your head rather than resting your whole body on it.

"is it easier/more comfortable to then sleep in human form? or are devils so used to cambion from that it doesnt matter to them at all?" Matter of opinion. Not having to deal with horns, tails, wings, and taking up more space has its advantages, but fiends tend to see mortals as lesser (think Raphael's 'I am no mortal!') and I can see a fiend's fiendish form being a point of pride. Also, working around their horns, wings, and tails is indeed likely just second nature to them.

*tome closes with a satisfying 'thud'* Thank you for coming to my TedTalk. Sorry for the rambling mess that you didn't ask for.

AAA thank you!! bless!!!!!! ✨🌻

this is actually a GREAT help and a great inspiration!

I do have follow up questions though; so strap in. If you lay underneath his wings, are they heavy? I imagine a pleasant kind of weight, bc i do find weight on top of me when sleeping to be comfortable, but it must also be somewhat inflexable bc of the cartilidge, and it has a few pointy spots as well (as does most of him seemingly).

Aww poor Raphael with pins and needles in his wings after you slept on them half the night 😭 hahahaha. Perhaps you should massage the feeling back into them? :))

Arms around his midriff sounds like heaven.... *dreamy sigh* As well as the 'undersized security blanket' option. I'd love to be his undersized security blanket <3. That also sounds comfy tbh, esp bc im a belly sleeper as well.

i was thinking about the horns being kinda a nuisance sometimes bc i have quite long hair, and despite having lived with it for a while, I still snag it at stuff, sit on it and yank by own head and stuff. It's not the same of course, but playing as a tiefling does make me think so frequently how i would step on my own tail, get it dirty, sleep on top of it awkwardly etcetc sdkfjsdkf.

Speaking of this is making me sleepy.. Wish i could go to bed with Haarlep and have him fuck cuddle me to sleep 🥺💞

Thank you again, this is so helpful and really nice to be able to hear your thoughts!!

xoxo

meadow up past her bedtime looking at images of the (half) devils for references of their wings

[qqueenofhades]

On the topic of unreliable narrators and nonlinear timelines- would you be able to play around with both to a greater extent in fanfiction than you would otherwise because your readers are more familiar with the reality of events and probably can grasp onto what they can trust the narrator about and what they can’t better? Like you were saying with some of your Sandman fics, even when everything is very different from canon like in UASS, we as readers can still specifically pick up on what happened to Robyn more so than we might in a regular book because we know Robyn’s fate in canon and how it differs from Hob’s supposed memories of it, giving us almost a touchstone for his unreliability? Same thing with an inconsistent timeline, if it still follows a similar plotline to canon but in a different order, would you be able to mess with it more since your audience would already know the order of the canon plotline? Sorry if this is a bit rambling, I had some late night thoughts and wanted to ask you to see what you might think or be able to clarify. Thanks!!

It depends on what you're doing and how. Obviously, fanfic does allow more room to play around with your readers' pre-existing knowledge of the story; they're coming to your work for a transformation or rework of an existing canon, rather than an entirely new one. So you have a lot of latitude in fic to play with the form/premise/plot, without having to do the work of introducing characters, world, and conflicts. Your reader will already know this, so you can skip past it and get to the good stuff.

With original fiction, however, you have to do that work in establishing the "baseline" reality and how the narrator is adhering to or deviating from it. For example in one of my original novels, which I really should get off my ass and publish one of these days because it's complete and ready to go and I'm just procrastinating, I have a first-person narrator who is fully aware that you just have to take her word for what's going on, and that plays into the larger themes of the book (a dark reworking of the #MeToo movement with an EXTREMELY feral female protagonist who does a little murder as a treat), and thus highlighting how women's claims alone are rarely taken as an acceptable standard of "proof." She also becomes increasingly gleeful in pointing out her unreliability as the story progresses, but where and how that happens, or if she's lying about her unreliability and is actually telling the truth all along, becomes a crucial part of the narrative.

(Anyway, yes. Somebody should give me a kick in the ass to do it. Trigger warnings out the wazoo, but still.)

Likewise, in one of the most famous original-fiction unreliable narrators in recent pop culture, Gone Girl, you spend the first half of the book learning one set of beliefs through the narrator's voice, and then the second half of the book pulls a COMPLETE bait-and-switch on you. You find out the reason for the first half of the book being written as it was (i.e. a total and deliberate lie), and that the narrator, Amy Dunne, is up to something totally different than what she first told you. So while in fanfiction you can come in with some of the premise ready-made and then play around with it, you can certainly think of different ways to do it in original fiction. It will require more legwork on your part and thinking how you want to structure the story and the reveals, and who's to be trusted and who shouldn't be, but that's part of the fun in figuring it out.

[slf-tnd]

Not all Hope is Lost (Sneak Peek)

Next Sorry, but Tumblr is being difficult with the rest of this. Think of it as a sneak peek for the full chapter! You will get the full chapter on Ao3.

And that was the prologue!! Now, what will happen in the future for Donnie?

I will post it on Ao3 in a few days after editing it.

___________________

“Mikey,” Donnie announced his presence and walked into the infirmary, in his hands a bowl of Applesauce with Apple slices (just to be safe). Mikey’s head shot up and looked at him, confused. “Got your food for lunch.” He held the bowl out in front of him, still feeling a little hesitant about uncuffing his brother. Not that the fact that he had cuffed him in the first place was any better. “I even made this portion bigger than last time.” Mikey gave the bowl a sniff before diving in, not hesitating anymore after the last two times. Things between them seem more relaxed now; Donnie at least was not as scared about possibly being bit, as he was yesterday. And Mikey appears to be doing better too, looking at how much more lively he is than before. Movement out of the corner of his eye caught his attention and glancing over, Donnie almost lost it. A wagging turtle tail. Ooooh, he used all of his willpower to not laugh, what he wouldn’t give to record this! While each of them had a tail, only Raph had it out most of the time because it was so big. It would be uncomfortable to retract and even then, it would not go in completely. The others, like Donnie, kept theirs mostly retracted in their shell, for different reasons. Donnie, for safety reasons, did it in his lab and that eventually became a habit. Leo started hiding his because, for how dismissive or dramatic he acted, his tail would always reveal his true feelings. And everyone knew that Mikey started hiding his because of how embarrassed he was of it- of how small and stubby it was, and it having a small spot on its tip too! Looking at his tail now, Mikey will not have to worry about that anymore, Donnie mused bittersweetly. “Mikey…” The bowl fell on the floor with a plab!, spilling its content all over the floor. But Donnie did not care- he hardly noticed. “What did you-” All that mattered now was his brother and what he said. Donnie swallowed hard. “Can you repeat that?” Mikey, who had looked forlornly at the spilt mess, tilted his head up. One might be deceived into thinking that he was not looking at anything (having no visible pupils and all), but Donnie felt his gaze resting on him. He looked down and then back at Donnie, before opening his strong beak filled with sharp teeth. “Food?” He croaked, with a questioning tilt at the end. “Oh-,” it felt difficult to breathe. “Oh Mikey, this is great!” But air never tasted more beautiful. “You can talk! You can understand me!” Half-formed thoughts and ideas raced through his mind. “Is this a sign that whatever it was that turned you into this is wearing off? Or- or was it exposure? Socialising? Did I accidentally teach you that? Or-” Theories and more theories streamed out of his mouth, pacing the room while rambling, not noticing how he walked through the spill on the floor. (Watching the purple turtle pace, a stream of words falling from his mouth, “Mikey” thought how odd that turtle was. But being here taught “Mikey” many things- many interesting things. It made being stuck here bearable. And he did not find it in himself to want to leave either.)

[shera-dnd]

Hey it's time for a new fic... well, an old fic. This one is about like 4 years old now, but since this has a sequel in the works I decided to bring this first half back up to my new writing standards

This fic, along with the big finale of the D&D!AU, are gonna be more centered around my original character, GM, and their relationship with Mara, as well as the development of the "Princesses of Power" homebrew campaign that you guys have followed for the past few years

God I still can't believe I'm finishing off the She-ra D&D era of my blog.

Well I can save the emotional ramblings for once the finale goes up, for now I hope you guys enjoy this little update

The Moon Opal was a quiet place in the earlier hours of the day - most of its customers were the nocturnal type - making it the perfect place to get some work done. 

A tired figure sat at one of the empty tables, typing at the laptop in front of them.

The last of what they called ‘lunch’ sat untouched beside them as they deleted their recent work for what felt like the 100th time that day.

They leaned back, and stared up at the ceiling for a solid moment, before turning back to the two words still left on their screen.

Project Etheria.

It was a placeholder name for a game about collaboration and teamwork, and yet someone decided that giving a player an extremely overpowered form was a good idea. Now it was up to them to make this mess work.

Sure, it made sense for She-ra to be this strong. She was supposed to be the protector of the world, the key to the world’s magic. 

Every princess had an element, but She-ra - the Princess of Power - was supposed to be the center of everything.

She-ra was the center of everything…

Their face brightened as they typed away on their keyboard with renewed vigor.

Oh, they couldn’t wait to see Mara’s face when they showed her this.

“Hey, someone is feeling productive today,” Mara greeted, apparently summoned by that errant thought.

“Mhm,” they hummed, not even taking their gaze away from their work.

“Earth to GM,” she joked, the mention of their name stealing their attention, “You there, GM?”

‘GM.’

They had been called that most of their life.

But it felt different when Mara did it. For her it wasn’t a title or a descriptor, it was a name, their name.

At least, it felt more like theirs than the one they were given at birth. She always made it sound like she was greeting a friend.

“Ah! Sorry,” they shook their head, looking away from their screen, “hey, Mara.”

“Hi there,” she said with a smile as she took a seat next to them, “what got you so excited today?”

“Rebalancing She-ra for hopefully the last time,” they said, turning their laptop so she could see, “I removed most of the new Traits from She-ra herself, and made it so she grants them to the princesses around her.”

“I’m gonna have to rewrite my whole character sheet again, aren't I?” she sighed, reading over their notes.

They almost started to talk, but Mara didn’t give them the chance.

“I almost forgot!” Mara exclaimed.

She rummaged around her bag for a moment before handing them a few sheets of paper, “I finished some more Lore on Etherian magic and the First Ones.”

GM took the notes titled ‘Heart of Etheria’, and skimmed through them. 

The silence dragged on as they each read each other’s notes. 

Mara could be loud and energetic when she wanted to, but that didn’t mean she didn’t know how to share in these little quiet moments.

It was nice.

Unfortunately, they were the one to break the silence this time.

“The planet is a what!?” GM blurted.

“A weapon of mass destruction,” Mara said, as if saying it out loud suddenly made it make sense, “I thought the setting needed bigger stakes.”

“We already have an invading alien empire, giant monsters, and evil sorcerers,” GM said, but all they got from her was a shrug. “I guess Mara - Princess of World Building - would know better than me.”

“I like that one, let’s use it in the book,” Mara joked. 

“You got anything we could play while I change up my traits?” she asked, picking up her character sheet. 

She was on her third one, the last two had been torn up from the constant rewriting.

“Preferably nothing combat heavy then,” GM pondered for a moment, “well, you had just finished a mission last time, so we could maybe have a chill scene in the Crystal Castle?”

“Perfect!” she cheered, “I wanna flirt with Light Hope.”

“Excuse me? She is an AI,” they said, raising a brow at her.

“So…?” she didn’t seem to understand their point.

“She’s not programmed for romance,” they explained, a little exasperated.

“Nothing a little love can’t fix,” she said, with a shrug.

“You’re not teaching a robot to love, Mara!”

“Hey, look at it this way: I’m preparing you for all the players who will absolutely try to romance everything, and everyone, in this setting.” she explained. “Also, Light Hope is really cute.”

“Miss me with that allo shit, Mara,” GM groaned.

Their playful frustration melted away as they got into playing, just simple scenes at first while Mara worked on her sheet. But once that was done they moved right into combat, and for the first time Mara seemed satisfied with how things had turned out…

“Yes!” she exclaimed as the last spider fell. “You’re the best.”

“I...uh...thanks.” GM mumbled, shying away from the compliment, “You’re the one making the world, I just turn stuff into rules text.”

“But that’s the important part,” Mara assured them, “I can say what it means to be She-ra all I want, but it’s all pointless if the rules say something different.”

“And what did the rules say?” GM asked, a little surprised. 

They were so focused on making She-ra balanced that they didn’t even consider that aspect of things.

“That She-ra isn’t meant to make people feel weaker. You shouldn’t feel like you’re less than them, you should feel stronger by being with them.” she explained, her voice filled with excitement, “Helping others be their best selves, that is what it should mean to be She-ra!”

_____

The Moon Opal always got busier towards the evening, with customers crowding the tables with RPG sessions, and card game matches. It left very little space for someone to concentrate on their work. 

GM rubbed their tired eyes, trying to recover from staring at that blank page for far too long. 

They weren’t even sure if they should keep trying to power through, or just call it a day and go home.

Before they could decide they were distracted by a familiar groan as someone slumped onto the chair in front of them.

“Long day?” GM asked, not taking their eyes away from their work.

“Long day,” Adora said. 

She opened up her backpack and began looking for something inside it.

 “Sorry for jumping right to the point, but I still gotta pick up dinner,” she sighed, handing them a few sheets of paper.

“Oh, right, your backstories,” they said, taking them both and skimming through them. “Why is Catra’s six pages long?”

“Because my girlfriend is the most competitive person on the planet,” Adora groaned. 

Of course Catra would consider this a competition…

“You two want to call dibs on any of the homebrew powers?” GM asked.

“Nah, I’m good with whatever you send my way,” she waved it off. “, and Catra doesn’t want any powers, because she wants to prove she can kick everyone’s ass without any.”

“I’m not surprised in the slightest,” they sighed, reading through Adora’s story a second time. 

They couldn’t avoid the strange sense of nostalgia that came from it…

 “What it means to be She-ra,” they mumbled without really thinking.

“You say something?” Adora asked, perking up in her chair.

“Nothing,” they said, “Just had a few ideas for your character. Do you… mind if I keep these?”

“Sure, sure, we don’t mind.” She handed it to them, “If that’s all, I should probably get going.”

“I’ll text you if I need any more details,” they said. “Have a good night, Adora”

“You too, GM!” she said, waving at them as she left.

They smiled and gave the papers in their hand one last read through. 

Oh Mara, you would’ve loved this one…