#that sword is off model as hell

[aromanticasterisms]

iansan relevance right off the bat let's fucking go

[patricia-taxxon]

I'm curious to hear your thoughts on TheraminTrees. I tend to like his stuff, although his use of "narcissist" as a shorthand is obviously not something I care much for.

Not trying for a "gotcha" to be clear, you're obviously allowed to not like a YouTuber I enjoy.

His presentation is one of a kind & frequently has me wowed with his use of imagery, i really like that he's the 1 pop-psychology personality that recognizes and analyzes "empaths" as having their own form of harmful neurosis, i enjoy the breadth of things that he is willing to call abuse, like the depiction of a hell or a father pushing weight loss on his daughter. that's a double edged sword, though, because he then calls any form of dogmatism a form of abuse & places social justice communities in the same category as mormons. also has the normal psychology youtuber thing of demonizing cluster B personality disorders in a way that implicates most neurodivergence, most egregious example was saying "some cases are so extreme that even bystanders can tell that something's off." Especially disappointing after he seemed to be able to find the space to be level headed and nuanced about empathy, and not treat it as simply a good person trait.

Smaller things, the way he manages to shoehorn his criticisms of religion into every single topic is eyeroll worthy and represents his most boring and least insightful analysis, his video for how to survive living with abusers all but asks "have you tried dissociating?" and there's also one plausibly deniable transmisogynist bit in the weaponizing self affirmation video, where he talks about people demanding to be considered unconditionally attractive and shows one of his male character models with a long hair wig on, which FEELS like a "trans women are guilting lesbians into sleeping with them" take, without saying it out loud. Could be making something out of nothing there, but it made me look at him a little differently.

[mediumgayitalian]

Nico is going to be smote by Hermes.

As he trudges through the muddy lake water, seething, he weighs each elaborated murder he has planned for each member of Cabin Eleven against how harshly Hermes will punish him for it. Connor will be flayed alive. Travis will be cooked over an open flame. Julia will be strapped to a rocket and blasted into the sun. Alice will face death by a thousand paper cuts.

And Cecil.

Fucking Cecil.

Cecil Markowitz will face a death so tortuous and harrowing that the constraints of the crime cannot be adequately covered in any mortal tongue. Crucified is too light a term. Nico is going to kill him in a way that is unspeakable — to hell with Hermes and his wrath. Nico is going to smite his dumbass children himself, and it will be worth it.

His boyfriend waits for him, lips pressed together and eyes trained to the sky, on the dock, holding several towels.

��Say nothing,” Nico hisses, slamming his sword on the wood and dragging himself up after it.

“Wasn’t going to,” Will lies. He immediately begins to cough, face turning slightly red. “Well, if I were to say anything —”

“William,” Nico warns.

“I just mean to say,” he soldiers on, setting all but one of the towels down, “that you look —”

He cuts himself off with a quickly smothered giggle.

“I swear to all that is fucking holy, Son of Phoebus.”

He lets Will maneuver him about, towel turning almost black with all the mud it’s absorbing off Nico’s clothes. He has to move on to another towel once he’s finished just Nico’s arm, dripping the soaked towel with a wet plop.

“It’s not that bad.”

Nico stares at him, deadpan. In fact he has to swipe pond scum out of his eyes and hair to glare properly.

“I am the fucking Creature of the Black Lagoon, Solace.”

Will bites his lip, hard. A burst of laughter escapes anyway, heedless of his desperate attempt to smother it, and the worst part is that it’s gorgeous and it makes his eyes light up and his stupid face looks stupid divine, when he’s giggly about something, and it makes Nico want to crush him a little. In the facial region, with his own face.

Except his own face is covered in stinky lake mud.

And Will is laughing.

Hard.

“I mean,” he manages around giggles, holding up a new towel to dab at Nico’s face, “it brings out your eyes, honestly.”

Nico closes his eyes. He lets that sit for a moment. He exhales for ten solid seconds.

“William Andrew.”

“It does! I mean, it’s really the perfect shade —”

“Romance is actually, genuinely dead.”

“— makes them look very deep, actually —”

“I should’ve listened to Demeter and married a doctor.”

“— and lake mud has so many uses! Most of the microbes on you are excellent for the skin. Who wouldn’t want to be compared to lake mud?”

“Oh wait! That is useless advice.”

“And you didn’t even pick up any leeches! Just all this dark, beautiful lake mud, as brown and beautiful as your eyes —”

“I’m returning you to whatever lab you were created in. Obviously you’re defective and I want a new model.”

“— in fact I’ll write a haiku about it.” He clears his throat. “My boyfriend is so hot —”

“Enough,” Nico interrupts, slapping his semi-clean hand over Will’s motormouth before things get any worse. Unfortunately the mud still caked into the lines of his skin contrasts beautifully with Will’s sparkling eyes, making them even bluer somehow. That’s a felony. “Also, that’s six syllables, dumbass.”

“I’ll revise,” he shoots back, muffled.

“If you promise not to, I’ll move my hand.”

Will presses a kiss to his palm because he’s a sappy loser who knows exactly what he does for Nico’s heart problems, based on the wiggle of his stupid perfect eyebrows.

“Deal.”

Nico removes his hand slowly. He lifts it back up when Will opens his mouth, threatening, but luckily he changes course before Nico has to make good on the threat, leaning down to kiss Nico softly, properly.

“I’m crucifying your best friend,” he mumbles against his lips. “That is step one of a ten step torture process.”

“‘Kay.”

“His siblings, too.”

“Sounds good.”

“Hermes might grind me to dust, after.”

“Trying really, really hard to focus on something right now, babe.”

“Right,” Nico breathes. There is still mud drying onto him and it is the Worst, actually, and he still has several homicides to play out, but.

But.

He can spend a little time kissing his boyfriend first.

(As long as that will keep him from spouting any more damn haikus.)

[sunarryn]

DP X Marvel #12

Danny Fenton never meant to end up in space, much less as part of a dysfunctional alien superhero squad led by a tree, a raccoon with PTSD, and a guy whose only qualification is that he’s listened to every 1980s mixtape ever made. But when you accidentally fly through a NASA portal powered by ectoplasm while trying to stop Technus from hijacking the International Space Station, you don’t really get much of a say in where you land. Which, in Danny’s case, was the cockpit of the Milano. Mid-flight. Mid-chase. Mid-explosion.

Rocket screamed. Gamora drew a blade. Star-Lord yelled, “WHO THE HELL ARE YOU?” And Danny, with his hair floating around his face in zero gravity and a half-melted Fenton Thermos in his hand, went, “Hi. Uh. I’m Danny. Do you have any snacks?”

A lot of things happened after that. For one, Rocket immediately declared Danny a “haunted science gremlin” and demanded he be dissected. Gamora stabbed him (not fatally, but like, “welcome to the crew” levels of stabbing), and Drax attempted to bond by declaring they were both hunted weapons of mass destruction. Groot tried to plant Danny in a flowerpot. Star-Lord, upon learning that Danny was from Earth and had ghost powers, decided he was now the team’s “Spooky Mascot” and handed him a Walkman, which promptly exploded when Danny touched it. Apparently, ghost boy plus alien tech equals “we now need a new comm system.” Danny fixed it in thirty minutes and Rocket reluctantly stopped trying to murder him in his sleep.

The team wasn’t sure if Danny was a ghost or an alien or some weird human mutant until he started phasing through walls and talking to the disembodied soul of a long-dead Xandarian war general haunting their fridge. (Her name was Bev. Danny and Bev played intergalactic chess on Thursdays.) Once the Guardians realized Danny could punch the soul out of people (and then slam-dunk it back in), they promoted him from “weird hitchhiker” to “full member with explosive privileges.” This was a mistake.

Danny was a space nerd, sure. He watched every space documentary, built model rockets, and could name the moons of Jupiter backwards. But what the documentaries didn’t prepare him for was being shot at by a gang of space pirates because Groot accidentally won a planet in a poker game, or Rocket creating a neutron grenade disguised as a cookie (“Don’t eat it, Danny—DANNY THAT’S NOT A REAL COOKIE”), or Star-Lord insisting they stop at an interstellar karaoke bar in the middle of a war. Danny had to fight off a swarm of brain-sucking parasites while singing “Eye of the Tiger” in full ghost mode. He got a standing ovation.

Things got worse when Technus came back, this time infecting Nova Corps servers and announcing himself as “God of Wi-Fi.” Danny had to team up with Rocket, who uploaded himself into a blender for reasons no one fully understood, to create an anti-ghost firewall using a toaster, Gamora’s sword, and Groot’s root clippings. The good news? It worked. The bad news? They accidentally opened a portal to the Ghost Zone mid-fight, unleashing the Box Ghost into the Nova HQ. The Box Ghost was immediately arrested and sent to space prison, where he became king of the vending machines.

Danny tried to explain Earth things to the Guardians. Like taxes. And Target. And what a cow was. Drax was horrified. “You allow milk beasts to rule your society?” Star-Lord cried when he learned Blockbuster was dead. Gamora tried to understand TikTok and ended up nearly assassinating a diplomat during a trend called “smash or pass.” Danny didn’t help by going ghost mid-video and screaming “pass” at the ambassador. They were banned from that planet forever.

But despite the chaos, Danny kind of… fit. He’d never felt truly understood on Earth, where being half-dead meant constant fear of being dissected by the government, but out here? Out here, people didn’t blink when he turned into a glowing, green-eyed wraith who could fly through spaceships and scream in an eldritch tongue. If anything, they applauded. One particularly wild night, Danny exorcised a Kree emperor’s cursed hover-throne live on intergalactic television. Ratings spiked. He was declared a demigod in three sectors. Star-Lord tried to get merchandising rights. Rocket tried to sell his ectoplasm as a weapon. Danny put them both in the Ghost Zone timeout corner.

They kept running into other people. Thor once landed on their ship looking for a beer and a nap, only to get into a flexing contest with Danny. Danny won. Barely. Thor still calls him “the glowing child of sorrow.” Tony Stark tried to recruit Danny for the Avengers. Danny politely declined by phasing through his hologram and turning it into a haunted Tamagotchi. Doctor Strange asked Danny to stop creating micro-rifts in the astral plane every time he hiccuped. Danny said he’d consider it.

The Guardians eventually got wind of a plot involving the Collector trying to obtain Danny’s core to power a ghost-zombie version of Knowhere. Naturally, they handled this in the most reasonable way possible: by launching a full-scale assault while disguised as a musical theater troupe. Danny, dressed as Phantom of the Opera, used his wail to destroy an army of spectral cyborgs, then accidentally set the Collector’s hair on fire. Gamora tackled him out a window. Rocket declared it a success.

Danny missed Earth sometimes. Jazz would call through the interstellar line to check in, often while holding a frying pan and yelling at someone in the background (“NO, TUCKER, YOU CAN’T ORDER CHICK-FIL-A TO SPACE”). Sam once left him a thirty-minute voicemail about ghost gentrification and the ethics of ghost labor unions. But even with all that, Danny knew he wasn’t the same kid from Amity Park. He’d been to star systems no human had seen, danced with sentient nebulae, and accidentally became betrothed to an alien princess after sneezing in her direction. He had battle scars and space memes and an intergalactic criminal record that included the phrase “unauthorized spectral possession of a judge.”

Rocket taught Danny how to rig a ship to explode using only shoelaces and spite. Groot taught him how to grow little plant buddies that helped him cook. Drax taught him the art of standing dramatically in silence, which Danny now did every time someone asked him about his tragic backstory. Star-Lord taught him how to moonwalk in zero gravity. Danny taught them all how to scream “GET BENT, YOU INTERDIMENSIONAL TWERPS” in ghost language, which they used during diplomatic missions. They were banned from another planet.

There were close calls. Danny once got trapped in a black hole and had to phase out by screaming every bad memory he’d ever had at once. He and Rocket were fused for a full day after a teleportation mishap—Danny’s ghost tail merged with Rocket’s back leg, and they had to fight like that. Gamora walked in on Danny watching High School Musical and refused to speak to him for a week. Star-Lord caught Danny crying while watching old Earth footage and tried to cheer him up with mixtapes titled “Sad Boi Vibes Vol. 1-9.”

But for all the wild, unhinged nonsense, Danny had a place. He’d spent so long being hunted, misunderstood, called a freak. But here, with this chaos crew of space weirdos and traumatized murder-huggers, he wasn’t just accepted. He was wanted. He was the team’s go-to for ghost stuff, space stuff, sarcasm, and emotional trauma suppression. He became a Guardian of the Galaxy not because he asked to be—but because he fought a black hole, exorcised a death god, and beat Star-Lord in a dance-off to “Take On Me.”

And when Earth eventually called—when the Avengers requested help with some “small ghost invasion” (Box Ghost had escaped space prison again)—Danny arrived with the Guardians, blazing through the sky like a neon comet. He kicked open a portal, yelled “SUP SLUTS,” and unleashed Groot, Drax, and an emotionally unstable raccoon with a bazooka onto New York.

Nick Fury sighed.

Tony screamed, “Why is there a tree in my penthouse?”

Danny just smiled, green eyes glowing, and said, “I brought friends.”

[kazz-brekker]

hotd episode 2 thoughts

aegon screaming hysterically and smashing up viserys's model of old valyria…alicent unable to get through a sentence without sobbing…helaena staring blankly at the wall and clutching jaehaerys's blanket…i love acting but also that all kind of broke me.

genuinely i am enjoying tom glynn-carney as aegon SO much, he's quickly becoming one of my favorite actors on the show and gives his character so much nuance.

otto using his grandson's horrific death as a pr stunt…truly that man never stops working, he's always on the clock.

i also LOVED the big blowout fight scene between rhaenyra and daemon, it's about time someone dragged that man to hell and back. "the darkness you sheathe within yourself like a sword" and "i don't trust you" and "you're pathetic" go OFF rhaenyra!

criston please don't send someone else on a suicidal assassination mission because you were slacking your duty and banging alicent while the heir to the throne got decapitated. oh, who i am kidding, that man has never had a normal reaction to anything in his life.

i'm so glad we got an actual scene with baela (and the promise of more with her and moondancer in future weeks!) since she and rhaena have been horrendously underused so far.

aemond you have so many issues please go to therapy not a brothel. also i've blogged about this before but the idea that he really thinks he's an equal threat to daemon honestly is so silly.

alyn AND addam of hull spotted, we've got the complete set, and a little teaser of seasmoke as well!

the scene between corlys and rhaenys where corlys was like "if daemon would just submit to rhaenyra and enjoy being a bottom as i do on occasion" made me laugh so hard my sister asked me if i was okay.

i'm very intrigued by the scene between rhaenyra and mysaria (especially the mutual bonding over being exasperated by daemon) since they're technically on the same side but very much at odds in the book and i'm curious to know if this will continue in future episodes.

i really like that this season is emphasizing the perspectives of smallfolk like the hull brothers, hugh hammer, and the brothel mistress, it's something i felt was missing in season 1.

this really was an episode of targaryen men getting absolutely dragged by others for their poor political decisions. can't say i support otto's decisions most of the time but he was 100% correct about aegon.

also the moment where otto realized he had schemed for 20+ years to land a total idiot who just fired him on the throne…delicious, but rhys ifans played it so well i honestly still felt bad for him.

daeron mention! at this point i was honestly starting to think they had cut him from the show so that was a surprise.

as an identical twin i very much enjoyed the erryk and arryk drama but i must admit that i ALSO could not tell the twins apart when they were dueling. someone please revoke my twin card.

alicent walking into a room, seeing aegon crying, and just walking out was kind of funny ngl.

i really didn't expect criston and alicent's dynamic this season but i'm honestly enjoying it a lot. the mutual self-flagellation over their affair, alicent repeatedly slapping him and criston allowing it…really fun honestly.

caraxes is properly coming back next episode and it's true, i HAVE missed that noodle boy <3

also it looks like our first proper looks at harrenhal, moondancer, and a bracken vs. blackwood fight!

[the-most-humble-blog]

He-Man Tried to Trick Us: Skeletor Was Swole as F☰☰k Too

Let’s talk about the biggest lie our childhoods ever served us, right up there with Santa Claus and the tooth fairy: the idea that Skeletor wasn’t an absolute gym beast. For years, He-Man was out here flexing his pecs and shouting, “I HAVE THE POWER!” Meanwhile, Skeletor was lurking in Snake Mountain, shredded as hell, rocking a villain aesthetic that could easily grace the cover of Evil Bodybuilder Weekly.

But no, the show insisted on portraying Skeletor as some goofy cackling skeleton, as if we weren’t all noticing the dude’s traps were literally eating his hood.

1. Skeletor’s Swole Anatomy

First off, can we talk about Skeletor’s build?

Shoulders for Days: That man could shoulder-press Castle Grayskull if he wanted to.

Biceps of Doom: Look at his staff. That thing isn’t lightweight. You don’t carry a ram’s skull around unless your arm days are legit.

Abs Forever: You could wash laundry on that torso. No fat, no fluff, just pure skeletal gains.

2. The Double Standard: He-Man vs. Skeletor

Here’s the thing: He-Man got all the glory for being the “hero,” but let’s be real—Skeletor was out there putting in just as much work, if not more.

He-Man had the Sword of Power, literal magic doing half the heavy lifting.

Skeletor? Pure dedication. He didn’t need magical transformations—he stayed yoked year-round!

And let’s not forget Skeletor’s aesthetic: He rocked a purple and blue combo with confidence. You try walking into a gym looking like a neon villain and still commanding respect.

3. Skeletor: The Ultimate Gym Inspiration

Skeletor deserves credit where it’s due. He’s the ultimate testament to grinding through adversity:

No Skin, No Problem: Imagine lifting weights with exposed bone face. That’s some next-level grit.

Hated by Everyone: He didn’t need a cheering squad—just sheer spite and a refusal to let He-Man steal the spotlight.

Dedication to the Look: Even when losing, Skeletor never let himself go. Every episode? Still jacked, still fabulous.

Skeletor didn’t skip leg day. His quads were beyond what a mortal man could ever achieve...naturally. I'm talking to you, Man-At-Arms.

4. The Real Lesson from Skeletor

Here’s what He-Man didn’t want you to know:

You don’t need to win every battle to stay legendary.

Villains can be role models too—especially when they’re unapologetically themselves.

Sometimes the real “power” isn’t a sword or a catchphrase—it’s sticking to your gym routine, even when you’re surrounded by incompetent minions like Beast Man.

Stop Sleeping on Skeletor

It’s time we rewrite the narrative. Skeletor wasn’t just He-Man’s foil; he was the real MVP of muscle culture. Next time someone calls you “the bad guy,” just remember: villains can be swole as f--k too.

Love calling out childhood lies and dropping truth bombs? Follow The Most Humble Blog for more unapologetic takes and hilariously sharp observations.

[just-thoughts-no-vibes]

Hello everyone and welcome back to random Stardew Valley headcanons! In todays episode we have: "Can bachelors and bachelorettes fight." It was funny to me that some weapons in the game belong to them and made me think about characters' fighting skills, so here we are. They are ranked from best to worst. Enjoy!

Bachelors:

Alex: Canonically shredded. Works out every day. Doesn't have much experience but has beaten a few guys in high school. If something happens to Evelyn and George he will never forgive himself so he needs to be ready to throw hands in case someone attacks them.

Sam: Not as strong as Alex but definitely fast. Has to be strong so he can beat anyone who picks on Vincent. He wants his brother to see him as cool so he has to show off sometimes. Took "the man of the house" very seriously after Kent left.

Shane: Was strong as hell in his youth and picked fights left and right, but over the years it changed. He can still throw a good punch and has experience with bar fights. After he gets sober, he tries to get back in shape so he can take care of Jass and his chicken.

Sebastian: Weak and skinny. Spends his days in his room, moving only when necessary. Smokes, probably doesn't eat healthily. Haven't worked out once in his life. He was never interested in fighting but can throw a surprisingly decent punch and run really fast after that.

Harvey: Can not fight to save his life. Will try to de-escalate the situation, will fail, and then try to run. But in my head, he is so clumsy and would trip over nothing. At least he can treat himself after.

Elliot: Absolutely useless in any kind of physical activity. He doesn't like to sweat so he doesn't work out. He sees fighting as barbaric and won't participate. But even if he tried he would fail miserably. He just has to be over the top in everything and would make a show with exaggerated moves, which will lead to him getting hurt by others or even himself.

Bachelorettes:

Leah: Shredded. Works with wood on a daily basis, cutting trees down, modeling them, or carrying her materials around. She is also smart enough not to move into the cottage in the woods with no knowledge of self-defense. Probably protected weaker kids in middle and high school from bullies.

Abigail: Much worse than she thinks but still okay. Doesn't have the discipline to put in the real work but likes training with the sword. Would learn to fight just to piss Pierre. Was always naturally strong. Zero experience tho.

Emily: Older sibling with neglectful/absent parents who has to take care of their younger sibling = knows how to fight, I don't make the rules. Although I don't think Emily is happy about that. She is a pacifist and tries to resolve everything with good talk and positive energy. She curses people when they make her mad and would restore to violence only in exceptional situations.

Haley: She. Fights. Dirty. She doesn't like sweating so she doesn't work out and she also doesn't want to break her nails or ruin her hair, but she has the rage and would hurt someone who insults her or her sister. The moment you attack her she is pulling your hair, biting you, scratching, and going for the eyes. She is also a pro at using her bag to beat someone up.

Maru: Not really into fighting and prefers to destroy her enemies with her gadgets. I also picture her as fairly short. She also never gets in situations where she needs to fight so she has zero experience. The closest she got into a fight was when someone made fun of Penny. But she does have an older brother with whom she doesn't get along so she is familiar with younger sibling fighting techniques.

Penny: Can not fight. Zero skill and zero will to do so. She condemns every form of violence and avoids it at any cost. She is the type of person who would feel bad because she pushed a person who was beating her up. But she is likable and quiet so she doesn't end up in situations where she needs to fight.

[fkapommel]

I believe that it is thematically necessary for griddlehark full lyctorhood, or on Harrowhark Christ

Together, Harrow and Gideon complete the symbolism of Christ. You have the obvious Christographic imagery in the start and end of Gideon's life: she is a "virgin" birth, a genetic product of God without any sexual interaction between her mother and father; she was concieved in order to die, specifically to be sacrificed to save the souls - in a literal and metaphorical sense - of the innocent, i.e. non-necros; and she died ultimately by her own choice, dying with the use of pentrative weapons.

But Harrow is literally the "child of man" - she is the cumulation of a generation, not one but many, the many made one. Harrow resembles young Jesus debating and educating the priests of the Temple, already knowing more about the arts of the spirit, of life and death, than his teachers as an infant. Both are prodigies of their craft. She is literally and figurarively carrying her cross all of HtN, the sword physically resembles a cross and is a burden of both her and Gideon's sins. And Harrow, in her soup making era, pulled off the Eucharist, transforming Mithraeum family dinner night into sacrifical, (not metaphysical) cannibalism night. Though both G & H have lain entombed and miraculously resurected, it was Harrow that descended into Hell to interact with the dead (more on this when ATN reveals what she did in Hell).

In one way, this creates friction, a literary rivalry, between the two characters. Who is more Jesus-like? Who is more central to the narrative? I argue that its in merging them that we see a clearer narrative reflection of the scriptural material of both the physical book series and the religio-imperalist model Jod based his empire on. This meta-textual symbolism HAS to be incorporated within the narrative itself given the device of lyctohood, wherein two souls literally meld to become inseperable and indistinguishable. By becoming full lyctors (and seperately i suspect that theyll become perfect lyctor numero dos), the Christographic symbolism embodied by both Gideon and Harrow will become literal and plot relevant, and solidify their lyctorhood not just as a narrative goalpost, a "hell yea" moment for the reader, or a completion of the main narrative conflict of their constant division. Their merging via the Eightfold Path will be semi-prophetic and imbued with religious significance as they both represent a halved Christ.

Gideon and Harrow HAVE to become full/perfect lyctors not just to release the symphonic tension of their constant coming togethers and going aparts, but to complete the image of a divided messiah.

Tldr: yes gideon is jesus, but harrow is jesus too and together they make Double Jesus. Jesus pt. 2 WILL become canon via full or perfect lyctorization!!!

Edit: I do NOT think ATN will /end/ with lyctor!griddlehark; thats just not in character for either of them, nor would that provide a morally satisfying end that is in contrast to Jod's ethos. I believe they will uncover the process and either temporarily inhabit full/perfect lyctorhood, find a way to balance their soul melange equally, or sever their soul bond completely (worst option!) Them uncovering the truth to lyctorhood, however, is necessary to resolve (meta)narrative tension.

[midnight1nk]

So, WOTFI 2024...

[Spoilers below cut]

I'm so excited! Got my bingo card ready and my popcorn, we gotta manifest good things here.

(the following is my live reaction:)

3... 2... 1... HAPPY NEW YEAR Oh wait, wrong thing oops

happy to be here, Leggy (WE'LL SAVE YOU GUYS DON'T WORRY)

TENDER TUNNEL?! ...oh nevermind then. it's so over guys

OH Four, Mario!

this would've been such a Mar4 moment if it was still the Tender Tunnel cuz this reminds me a lot of the SMG34 tiktok kiss challenge

...wait is that... OMG IT'S TV TIME ARRANGEMENT OMG LET'S GOOOOOOOO marking this on the bingo card

the FNAF models....

"...a portrayal of my life." YES PLEASE give us more

the fact that Puzzles made a puppet of his child self just for this reenactment (i don't think he's ok guys)

oop, Leggy don't drop the child!

"Papa" gives so many flashbacks to other characters who call their abusive father "papa" (me, an Ace Attorney fan)

hold up, I need to talk about this for a bit. I know it may seem like random graffiti, but because it has gears and such, his future might've been set in stone. To become TV.

"I locked myself in my room and watched TV all day!" and no one checked up on him? Did he stay in that room all the way to adulthood?! Okay, the SMG4 universe has a different way of how time and body necessities work. But hunger and time are still things. The implications are kinda of messed up if you think about it: Mr Puzzles stayed in his room for YEARS without food or even sleep, watching everything on TV. He would've been a CORPSE by adulthood. No wonder Mr Puzzles has a thin waist.

"And the rest is history." No, Puzzles, you can leave us like this! I need more! What happened after he cut off his head, did he replace every limb of himself? What happened to his dad?

Well, we got more of his backstory ig, marking that for the bingo card

WOAH I knew Mr Puzzles swore before but DAMN

I might have to mark "Grudge against Four" box but we'll see

NEW OUTFITS OMG THAT GETS A MARKER

"We'll just have to go along with his twisted games for now." Hell yeah, you gotta be part of WOTFI, boys :)

AY SPECTACULAR TITLE CARD, LOVE THE ART

Blast-off Fire

this reminds me of Toy Story for some reason

C'mon guys, you can do it!

What's your idea, Mario? NO FOUR let him talk

WOW I LOVE [*ragdolls*]

OH IT WORKED

Insult-2-Dunk

OH the frame of what the challenge says has the 5 stars, I'm going to mark that

This is giving the hallway scene in IGBP, where Four has his thoughts on display

Yeah I'm going to count that as an IGBP reference

they really are boyfriends 💙💜 gay people do be sitting

really tempted to mark the "You Saved Me" box but I'll wait

That's... actually sad if all the negative thoughts SMG4 had in IGBP came from the YT comments. Not surprising but it makes sense why he would try to keep everyone happy.

"This is nothing." OH THAT'S EVEN WORSE SOMEHOW, SMG4. THE AUDIENCE IS ONE THING BUT KAREN, A CLOSE FRIEND, TOLD YOU TO KYS

idk I could just imagine Four saying a lot of horrible things to himself

DAMN MARIO

but also Four's been flirting with Three, you already know that Mario /hj

Slap Box

TARI WE'RE SORRY BUT WE HAVE TO SAVE YOU GUYS

well you did get a bit of karma for what you said earlier to Four, sorry Mario

HOLY SHIT YOU KILLED HER DUDE oop Four said it for me nvm

Ferris Wheel Frenzy

I got jump scared and thought it was my minigame lmao

"Survive"? OH, are they going to get stuck on the Wheel ride?

please 34 please 34 nooooooooooo fuck

Missed opportunity man, still pretty funny

Fire Bonanza

Wow, Bob, that trick was pretty good ngl

Did somebody say arson? :)

even I'm clapping!

Marware shippers, how are y'all feeling?

Tightrope Terror

OH just like in the trailer, right?

OOH THREE VS FOUR

...yeah, Three would win, I'm not even surprised

That's so sweet, like actually

This feels familiar... oh that's right

:)

Hey, I did say "love wins, love always wins"

And that didn't work for Leggy... but it worked on Four back then so that's nice :)

Sword Showdown

poster reference!

Can Mario even defeat Bob? and also, reference to the poster?

Oh shit Mario did the Sephiroth shot from the Smash announcement

Knife Throw

boyfriends throwing knives :)

also poster reference

"...avoid hitting our volunteers" IS IT THREE?! oh no it's just Boopkins and Tari

I WANTED A "YOU SAVED ME" MOMENT NOOOO

....blindfolded?!

FOUR DOESN'T WANT TO HURT HIS FRIENDS

So uh yeah definitely a grudge

Four, that's Gmod. THIS IS NOT THE SAME

Three's the one throwing the knives at Tari right? ...yep *sigh /aff*

Balloon Blast

*looks at Luigi's creations* ....say what now?

"Supper Mario Balloon" I... shouldn't be surprised

He kinda looks like Pedro ngl

Pie-a-Ton

HI KAREN

NOOOO MARIO'S FIRST LOVE *prowler music*

...wait, "Mario Die"? OH well, the universe is doomed lol

Touch Grass

alright then *goes outside and touches grass* we did guys!

Clowns Clowns Everywhere

Puzzles, Four has boots on and Bob has no shoes at all. Does it look like we have time to put running shoes on?

ACE ATTORNEY? IN MY SMG4 WOTFI? :D

"King of Clowns" PFFT That never gets old

What did you expect Four? You make memes for a living, become the clown

Bomb Ski Ball

What type of SAW trap is this?

OH RIGHT Karen is still a cat

Yeah Mario, you celebrated too early

Ducky Mania

poster reference(???)

Well, thanks Luigi, we're dead

BELLS (ok, it might not count cuz they used this before)

YAY FOUR GOT ONE

Free-Fall Frenzy

And of course, Three and Karen and Saiko are all using the things they are skilled at

OH SHOOT MELONY'S SWORD

GO ON MARIO DO YOUR THING! MEGGY'S BACK!! IT WORKED

NO PUZZLES WHYYYYY

Whack a Leggy

Oh I love that Mario screen reference

SWORD FIGHT SWORD FIGHT SWORD FIGHT

...goop!4..?

oh nvm, cameras. that should've been obvious *slaps face*

SMART THINKING FOUR

OH hi Puzzles

LET'S GOOOOOOOOO

DUDE I'M GONNA CRY STOPP THIS IS SO SWEET OMG

"YOU'RE RUINING EVERYTHING", welp Mario Ruins the Show confirmed, checking that off

I just love how this scene was animated (edit: it turns out that this is a scene Anaidon animated, no wonder this was so good!)

THE KEYBOARD MONSTER FROM IGBP!!! IT'S BACKKKKK

AND EYES IN GENERAL

Marker for the bingo :)

AND PARK (kinda) DESTROYED, another mark (yes it counts)

Superhero landing!

Wait... what is it, Four?

...oh I hate this *IGBP flashbacks*

AND PEACH nooooooooo

I get that it's supposed to be Didney stuff but like that's past trauma right there for Four , seeing the castle and Peach costume again *checks off the bingo*

and we're seeing it through Four's right eye *head in hands* eye of horus

It's Rap Time? IT'S RAP TIME

Carnival-themed too! Another one for bingo

"Pay for what you've done" KARMA "We'll make him pay" KARMA

(edit: it turns out Shadow animated this scene, it looks great dude great job :D)

[*points at background at 22:31*] BELL THERE IT FUCKIN IS

MORE BELLS AT 22:55

and also I realized that there was a lot of "death", huh

Doomed Yaoi(TM)

Yeah, we can count this as the Freak Show

"Puzzlevision+" ...puzzlevision 2...?

hold up, what the hell is that? NO NO WE CAN'T JUST PASS BY THAT

Huh, how interesting is that Mr Puzzles, being controlled by wires, looks like a puppet when he's the only usually puppeteering hmmm

MEGGY CONFRONTS also she tried to give Puzzles a chance when she couldn't do it for Wren

"That child is gone... Six feet under right where you and your stupid friends belong." Oh, shit. That got me somehow.

There is something in philosophy called "Ship of Theseus" that basically is: what if, gradually over time, we replace every part of a person and the question would be, are they the same person anymore. It could apply to Mr Puzzles here. Bring back to my corpse question, his child self and his current self are not the same. Not anymore. Metaphorically and perhaps literally, the real man before Mr Puzzles came to be is already dead.

Some people do say that they can be "reborn" so.... *shrugs*

SACRIFICE! No one dies but they're risking their lives here!

Meggy going into Puzzles' mind reminds me a lot of Melony getting into Zero's, except for the meeting younger self stuff

Interesting, why did Little Puzzles cower from the woman shadow figure? They could've just put Meggy there but they didn't until a few seconds later... hmmm......

Well Meggy confronts Little Puzzles but it's more like her demanding him to set her friends free, which is understandable

THE CLUB PENGUIN DANCE IS BACK!! :D

ONCE AGAIN Little Puzzles gets scared of someone coming towards him. jesus what happened for you to react like that, dude?

THIS IS ACTUALLY MAKING ME FEEL THINGS DUDE. IF MR PUZZLES DIES AND THIS IS THE LAST THING HE THINKS ABOUT.... *head in hands* THIS IS SO SAD

And more of the Engine Room gets broken down

silly little goobers :)

MR PUZZLES LIVES

and I oop [Mr Puzzles will remember that.]

....oh, this might be a fate worse than death. I don't blame the Crew for not trusting him and after what he did to Meggy but damn I don't think this is the right choice, gang

But it is probably the best ending the Team could've given him.

Yes, painting is nice. Oh, a puppy too!

"...OR we could assassinate our enemies and anyone who's ever double-crossed us!" OH NO IT'S MAKING HIM WORSE

To destroy Four and the others, yeah that makes sense. But he must've taken Meggy's confrontation as a double-cross. He's going for everyone!

Dynamic Change, everyone!

but also.... puzzlevision 2 maybe....

OH HEY CHRIS AND SWAG HI

well, the park isn't completely destroyed but some of it did so....

"Hopefully Mr Puzzles will change for the better." HMMMM I don't think so, Meggy. Actually, are they aware of where he is now?

Aw, Mario checking up on Meggy is very sweet, the M&M siblings

YOU ALL NEED THERAPY

"Turning into Leggy was really taxing on my body but...I think that version of me has escaped off to a better place." Meggy, you must've inherited Phoenix Wright's invincibility when you were a lawyer because you were literally SCREAMING IN PAIN when you were forced back into Leggy, and all you get is just a bit of a sore back?! Girl, you must've broken something. I do hope they bring this back so that she can't do sudden maneuvers or fancy tricks due to what happened to her. There has to be some consequences here.

And now, Leggy's not coming back (I'm sure that's great news for the people who find her annoying, not me tho)

and I oop 2: electric bagaloo

MORE RIDES FOR THE SHOWGROUNDS HELL YEAH

Happy ending and all but hold up... Why is this the last shot of WOTFI? They could've had the Ferris Wheel, the entrance, or any of the other rides. WHY?! *shakes the crew* ANSWER MEEEEE

Well we didn't get a challenge relating to Tender Tunnel but since it appeared in the final shot, I'll count it just for appearing (and also because it might be important later but we don't talk about that now)

Of course, MERCH

"And, who knows? Next year, there might be even more things to come..." WHEN I GET YOU

Hoodie, poster, keychain I CALLED IT

baby leggy :3

"You'll just have to wait and see." Oh I'll be waiting *wiggles fingers together like a cartoon villain*

the great milk heist of 1899 :)

.・-: ✧ :--: ✧ :-・.

Here's my bingo card:

I think it's all of it, let me know if I miss or need to change anything. Can we count all the Four & Three soulmate parallels to the "You Save Me" box? Please? *sneaks a marker on there* To those who participated, I hope you guys had fun with my bingo card!

I'm still going to cherish that Ferris Wheel chase scene from the "Welcome to Puzzle Park" episode

Well, Ben, Shadow, you got anything to say?

Ben: Well that was fun We should really do this again sometime…

GOD DAMMIT BEN NOT AGAIN/affectionate

Shadow, in voice clip: "Hello once more, Twitter and SMG4 community! As always, I'm The Inverted Shadow and yeah, War of the Fat Italians 2024 has come and gone... and uh, as it is customary with a lot of these big events with SMG4, I have things to say but this time, I'm actually not going to make a big show out of it this time like what I did for Puzzlevision and..." *clear throat* "The things that came before because I'm going to be completely honest, guys, I was really fucking nervous for this one because, um, to be completely honest, this rap battle for this WOTFI is, I can safely say, one of the hardest things I had to do when animating for SMG4 thus far. And I was really really scared and nervous about (one) if it would actually come out good and (two) if people would actually like it. But just based on the reactions from the watch party with the SMG4 team and also just seeing everybody's reactions to WOTFI this year, um.... Yeah, you guys surely showed me I still must be doing something right." *laugh* "But, no no no. In all honesty, once more, thank you all genuinely. Genuinely, thank you all once again to the SMG4 community, to Luke, to Kevin, the SMG4 team. Everybody. Thank you all so much for showing me that I apparently still got it and I can still do the thing as it were." *chuckle* "Um, I do really hope you all enjoyed WOTFI this year. For now, I need to go get me that new Mr Puzzles plushie 'cause I need it. So, genuinely thank you all again and uh, peace!

Oh, we enjoyed this year's WOTFI, SMG4 Team! As Mario would say, that was-a loads of fun! The animation, the art, the music, everything was really really good. There are a few plot tweaks here and there that need a bit of work, but otherwise, it was great! Props to everyone on the Team! I can't wait to see what you guys do next.

"Silly little meme show" Right, and it's the same people who gave us horror, I'm on to you guys. please puzzlevision 2 please goop!4

Make sure you all support them bc they deserve it :) As for what will happen to the SMG4 crew, Mr Puzzles, and the Showgrounds, we will just have to wait and see.

;)

ink, it's not even a theory what are you talking about?

[tf2occontest]

The Reverend VS The Glider

(Full matchup list here)

Alright team, here's a recap: This is a contest to determine who amongst you will take the top of the leaderboards and be hired at TFI! Simply put, whoever gets the most votes gets to move on, and whoever doesn't... Well. They'll be put down swiftly and cleanly. :}

So, mann your stations, because here are your next contestants! Vote for your favorite mercenary who you want to win the TF2 OC Contest! - P

OC INFO UNDER THE CUT!

We highly encourage you to take a peek to make your decision!

The Reverend

@coopster3d

Image credit: @/coopster3d

The Reverend is a religious fanatic hailing from Southern Italy, where he was raised in a commune by a group of reclusive nuns. Where, according to him, he was taught the basic necessary skills for life, which include but are not limited to: Small sword combat, butchering, and Ecclesiastical Latin. It is unknown how exactly he was ordained as his denomination remains unclear. He often fails to mention that throughout his travels, he's made some adjustments to the standard Bible, adding his own footnotes, amendments, and even on occasion, pages which he believes are the true gospel, taken from a multitude of other religions, leading to a mishmash of ideals and beliefs full of unexplained rituals. Within the team The Reverend plays a heavily supportive role, serving initially as on-base staff in the form of a “Therapist” to the Mercs, which unfortunately or not, was not clearly conveyed leading to a sacrificial killing in the Intelligence Room. Now, he is a full time member of the Mercenary team!

CLASS INFORMATION

Primary Stock: Thurible/Censer A golden Thurible, which, when held, creates an aura around The Reverend. Teammates in range, when damaged, contribute to a shield meter. When full, the user can activate a direction shield [stylized as a building mist which hardens into a thin shield the size of three heavys stood shoulder to shoulder] that protects against projectile damage and protects The Reverend from "Hell-fire" [Pyro's flames] while active. In order to use this effectively, The Reverend has to directly put himself in front of the front line, only properly using this shield when putting himself in a direct line of fire beforehand. When not activating his shield, The Reverend uses his thurible similar to that of a flail, creating a mid ranged weapon which is used to protect himself and others in a select radius around him.

Secondary Stock: The “Mercy Kill” Dagger Modeled after a sword used in early battles to put soldiers who were suffering grave injuries out of their misery in a quick and efficient way, The Reverend uses it similar to The Medic's Ubersaw. Instead of contributing to the thurible’s meter, it instead contributes to its own meter, which, when full, can be used to activate The Reverend's "Dying Wish." [Inspired by Priests being seen as undertakers, guiding souls to heaven or otherwise while on their deathbed.] When used, The Reverend can target a specific teammate under half-health and for a short time grants the target guaranteed Crits, but does not heal the target, nor protect them from any damage type other than the one the target themselves is dealing. [I.e. Heavy receives a buff against bullets, Pyro-fire, and Demo- explosives]

Melee Stock Options: Bible/Rosary The Reverend is against the use of guns and prefers to get up close and personal with his damage dealing. [Used as an excuse to personally "send people off" to the next life while praying for their soul.] He either uses his Bible to bludgeon his victims or, on occasion, wraps his Rosary around his knuckles to boost his hand-to-hand damage.

Support Slot Stock: Holy Water Mister Modeled after a garden mister used for plants, the bottle is instead filled with Holy Water blessed by The Reverend himself. Mechanically used to rid teammates of ailments, such as Jarate, Pyro's Fire, and works to undisguise enemy Spies. [This also has an ammo limit similar to Pyro's flamethrower]

EXTRA INFO

The Reverend, or as he is rarely called, Father Angelo, is known to be an enigmatic figure even among bizarre groups like the Mercenaries. He's rarely seen loitering in public spaces around the base, choosing to reside in his homemade "service" room, complete with a makeshift confession booth. When prompted, he'll say he prefers the quiet as it allows him a moment of reflection. He seems well put together and always walks through the halls with an upright rigidness, always seeming to peer down at people when speaking with them. That is of course unless he is genuinely interested, in which case he'll lean forward to inquire further, often expressing himself with his hands which he kept firmly laced together just moments before. The Reverend does not see most of his fellow men as solitary beings, in fact, most if not all of the Mercenaries are seen as a challenge to him. After all, what's more difficult than getting a group of cold-blooded murderers to repent? He's convinced himself he's already chosen for heaven, and that God put him on this earth for a reason, and the tribulations he's faced working with MANN CO. might just be that exact mission.

Of course the Father isn't a stranger to violence, on the field he maintains his saintly demeanor when grouped with his colleagues, which seems to be most often given his support role. Until he's given a chance to take matters into his own hands. The Reverend is incredibly vengeful, with an excellent memory for faces, he takes the time to chase enemies who he understands are close to death, and he finishes them off himself, usually bludgeoning them to death. He doesn't enjoy the act of killing, what he takes the most pleasure in is when his team finds him knelt over the dying victim, his hands gripping theirs as he prays for their safe travel to heaven, asking them to repent in their last moments.

FUN FACTS!

-The Reverend often wakes up at dawn and has a very specific morning ritual that includes tending to his small flock of chickens. -Despite his attempts, he is often shadowed by a murder of crows who he believes bring him bad luck, or more accurately, bring him a bad name. -He speaks Italian most fluently, with Ecclesiastical Latin and English following behind. He learned both during his time studying the Bible and its origins when he was younger. -His class emblem is known as "the all-seeing eye of god." -The specific translation The Reverend uses as the basis for his text is The Douay-Rheims Bible. -The Reverend’s full given name is Angelo Caruso, but he is rarely addressed by it, and instead was only called by his first name for most of his life. -When signing his name, he often uses the “o” of his name as a flourish, which leads to his signature looking closer to “Angel.” -The Reverend can play the tambourine verily well, he enjoys tambourine dancing and encourages people to join in for the purpose of worship.

The Glider

@ruthytwoshakes

Image credit: @/ruthytwoshakes

It's a bird! It's a plane! It's a depressed middle-aged Italian with a flight suit! Please welcome the Glider from TEAMFORTRESS: SPECIAL FORCES, to the best opportunity of all: a job where you merk the exact same team in a different color.

The Glider takes a new approach to our gravel field; with his one-of-a-kind “Gliding Suit” and endless supply of ariel ammo, he’s a menace from a never before seen angle in Team Fortress 2. Above.

He's a bit outta his gourd, spending most of your life isolated in a forest studying "Italy's Shame," Leonardo Da Vinci will do that to you. But no worries! His good cooking and friendly-ish attitude will do more than enough to get you to look past his fre- OCCASIONAL!! Grazie tante! - "mad scientist" outbursts. About planes. Freak. Just whatever you do, DO NOT call it a “Flight Suit.” There’s a difference. He’s not called “The Flyer,” for pete sakes.

[gorillastraylight]

Guess who’s back. Back again.

Crackgrin’s back (tell a friend).

Kind of a continuation of this post?

Anyway, I finally finished converting my much-beloved Banshee, Crackgrin, into an 8S (my favourite variant)! It wasn’t the most in-depth conversion I’ve ever done, but there were for sure some unique challenges.

The thing that ended up being the most annoying part of the conversation process was that shoulder-mounted SRM rack the BNC-3S base model has - it connects to the side of the head, so after removing it with my hobby saw I had to add some plasticard to make sure the head was symmetrical, and then try my best to reconstruct some of the detailing with green stuff. This was a huge pain in the ass, but it came out ok I think, as long as you don’t look too close!

Next up were the arms. I had one hell of a time trying to find scrap arms on IWM that would have about the same thickness as normal Banshee arms, and came up pretty much empty. The metal Battlemaster and Highlander both proved too thin, so I ended up 3d-printing a Banshee BNC-3E stl - this had arms what were, if anything, even bigger than the default, but I figured with the 8S being a TSM melee variant and all, it was ok if it had some bulky arms. So I sawed off the originals at the elbow and pinned my new ones on there.

After that, the rest was easy. The snub PPC on the right arm is taken from that metal Battlemaster arm, and the “hatchet” is a 3d-printed 3rd party Power Claymore intended for 40K (I figure that if the clanbuster Black Knight can have a sword-shaped hatchet, so can I). For completeness’s sake, I stuck a little piece of paper clip onto the PPC to represent a medium laser. After painting, I think it’s come out fantastically!

Crackgrin is absolutely my personal signature ‘mech, and in the past the dice have basically always favoured her - my only prayer is that I have done a good enough job with this conversion to appease her machine spirit and keep the good dice rolling!

[sad-endings-suck]

blue eye samurai popped off so hard in every department, but this post specifically is a shoutout to the character designers who manage to put so much personality, life, and uniqueness into each and every character to create a signature art style, while still maintaining realistic-like proportions and features that are more reminiscent of live action than animation.

not a single character with speaking lines or more than 3 secs of screen-time looks anything like any other character unless it’s intentional (i.e. resemblance between family members). not only are there so many different body types, but no one’s body is ridiculously proportioned. some characters are very thin (heiji), others are very large (shogun’s emissary), some are quite powerfully built (chiaki)… but then there’s everything else in between!! mizu is very lean and androgynous, and she definitely has muscles, but she’s not ridiculously skinny, nor does she greatly lack softness in her torso, hips, and chest. mizu very much has a woman’s body, her proportions are just not exaggerated to make her look overtly masculine or overtly feminine. unlike some other animes that would absolutely give mizu ridiculously defined muscle mass and 8-pack abs, or maybe a 10 inch waist and huge boobs (that she magically hid completely with some diy fabric bindings and a dream) and then credit those choices to “art style”.

ringo is on the bigger softer side physique-wise, and his body is a perfectly normal human body that any normal person may potentially have! akemi and taigen are both conventionally attractive within the story, but even still, neither is the perfect personification of masculine or feminine “beauty”. yes akemi is very petite and slim, with a more hourglass shape, but she still very much has a body type that some real people naturally have. she has a stomach! and i don’t mean that she has a protruding stomach, i just mean her stomach actually exists. so does mizu’s, even if they both have small flat stomachs, they still very much don’t have itty bitty anime waists. though they are both slender women, they have actual room for organs and ribs in their torsos!! or on the other end of things, there’s taigen, who may be very athletically built, but again, it’s not to an impossible degree or standard. he still very much has the build of a real human person, not a comic book hero with a 12-pack. even fowler, who is on the heavier-set side (presumably from his lifestyle, surviving famine, etc) also has strength to his build that many other characters do not, indicating he does keep up with his training and is very much physically dangerous.

and that’s just the body diversity! we are shown characters and character models of young adults, mature adults, babies, seniors, young children, older children, teens, etc. women in their 40s/50s/60s (madame kaji, lady itoh, “mama”).

hell, the fact that the art style can be so consistent throughout, and yet akemi looks like she’s been rendered in watercolours, whereas taigen appears as if he’s been painted with acrylic is crazy!! or how well the show is able to convey that mizu very much looks like a woman, yet it also convincingly shows us how she’s able to pass as a man through a slew of details is amazing. such as her more androgynous features, her height, a scarf to hide her lack of adam’s apple, hat to conceal her features, orange tinted glasses the cancel out the blue of her eyes, baggy pants and boxy top to hide her silhouette, poncho and sword positioned to give the illusion she takes up more space in the world LIKE A MAN WOULD and so much more.

It’s just so beautiful to see, not only because it speaks to the skill of the creatives and the level of care and attention to detail with which this story was clearly made, but also because it proves you don’t have to “choose” between a distinct art/animation style and diversity. by combining animation and live action, and using the best aspects of both, blue eye samurai has managed to capture something that no other animated production I’ve seen, has (no, not even arcane). and that is allowing the personhood and character of a live action actor/model to come through in the character they are portraying. no matter how much beautiful animation i watch, there is almost always some level of “default” face, body type, height, or facial features that are consistent across every character, and blue eye samurai proves that this is not just due to “art style”. it’s a limitation of the medium of animation (to an extent), or at least, it was.

we live in an era where plastic surgery, photo/video retouching, workout supplements, trendy scheme diets, beauty consumerism, etc, are at an all time high. so it’s such a relief to see an animated project of all things choose to reflect real human appearances in its work, and not only that, but do so without ever commenting on it. as an animated project, it could “beautify” its characters as much as it likes to make them all same-face/same-body conventionally attractive, and excuse it as their “art style”. but blue eye samurai does not do that. they said “no, we can do better. we can do way better” and they did. the way bes is shot leaves no room for women (or anyone) to be sexualized or objectified, regardless of how much nudity and sex there is in the show. it demonstrates that sexuality and sexualisation are in no way inherently synonymous. there are no unnecessary comments about a character’s body that feel off or not in tune with the social perceptions of the time period in which the story is set. it’s just amazing to see.

[coopster3d]

Meet The Reverend! [TF2 10th class OC]

Character Description:

The Reverend is a religious fanatic hailing from Southern Italy, where he was raised in a commune by a group of reclusive nuns. Where, according to him, he was taught the basic necessary skills for life, which include but are not limited to: Small sword combat, butchering, and Ecclesiastical Latin. It is unknown how exactly he was ordained as his denomination remains unclear. He often fails to mention that throughout his travels, he's made some adjustments to the standard Bible, adding his own footnotes, amendments, and even on occasion, pages which he believes are the true gospel, taken from a multitude of other religions, leading to a mishmash of ideals and beliefs full of unexplained rituals. Within the team The Reverend plays a heavily supportive role, serving initially as on-base staff in the form of a “Therapist” to the Mercs, which unfortunately or not, was not clearly conveyed leading to a sacrificial killing in the Intelligence Room. Now, he is a full time member of the Mercenary team!

Character references:

Character Loadout:

Primary: Thurible/Censer

A golden lantern, which, when held, creates an aura around The Reverend. Teammates in range, when damaged, contribute to a shield meter. When full, the user can activate a direction shield [stylized as a building mist which hardens into a thin shield the size of three heavys stood shoulder to shoulder] that protects against projectile damage and protects The Reverend from "Hell-fire" [Pyro's flames] while active. In order to use this effectively, The Reverend has to directly put himself in front of the front line, only properly using this shield when putting himself in a direct line of fire beforehand. When not activating his shield, The Reverend uses his lantern similar to that of a flail, creating a mid ranged weapon which is used to protect himself and others in a select radius around him.

Secondary: The “Mercy Kill” Dagger

Modeled after a sword used in early battles to put soldiers who were suffering grave injuries out of their misery in a quick and efficient way, The Reverend uses it similar to The Medic's Ubersaw. Instead of contributing to the lanterns meter, it instead contributes to its own meter, which, when full, can be used to activate The Reverend's "Dying Wish." [Inspired by Priests being seen as undertakers, guiding souls to heaven or otherwise while on their deathbed.] When used, The Reverend can target a specific teammate under half-health and for a short time grants the target guaranteed Crits, but does not heal the target, nor protect them from any damage type other than the one the target themselves is dealing. [I.e. Heavy receives a buff against bullets, Pyro-fire, and Demo- explosives]

Melee: Bible/Rosary

The Reverend is against the use of guns and prefers to get up close and personal with his damage dealing. [Used as an excuse to personally "send people off" to the next life while praying for their soul.] He either uses his Bible to bludgeon his victims or, on occasion, wraps his Rosary around his knuckles to boost his hand-to-hand damage.

Support Slot: Holy Water Mister

Modeled after a garden mister used for plants, the bottle is instead filled with Holy Water blessed by The Reverend himself. Mechanically used to rid teammates of ailments, such as Jarate, Pyro's Fire, and works to undisguise enemy Spies. [This also has an ammo limit similar to Pyro's flamethrower]

Extra Links!

Below is the link to his Toyhouse! This will have all updated information and a gallery with completed credits, details, ect.

Honestly, take your time getting to him, and if you need the document link, I'm more than happy to provide it, but I'm proud of the Toyhouse. All of the drop downs and buttons work, so feel free to look around when you get the time.

FOR TUMBLR: Check the #the Reverend tf2 tag on my profile

LINK TO THE PAGE: https://toyhou.se/26605018.the-reverend

[mori-does-sw]

Of Hell May Smile

PAIRING(S) \ Vampire!Marshall Commander Fox x GN!Reader SYNOPSIS \ You've got an agreement with the Coruscant Guard, an agreement that Fox is looking to cash out on for the usual reasons as well as some more... personal ones. WARNING(S) \ Very brief horror, detailed descriptions of blood and blood drinking, minor injury, description of altered mental states (vampire spit is drugs), some very minor suggestive content A/N \ I saw a vampire Fox post once and I think it changed my brain chemistry. This man has me by the throat at All Times and I am unashamed of that fact lmao. So, anyways, here's exactly 1500 words of my own spin on that idea in honor of spooky month!

It’s when they start turning out the lights for the night that the Senate archives, usually a place of refuge from sneering politicians and throngs of reporters, becomes ominous. You always feel on-edge, walking through the darkened halls with only the flashlight on your datapad and the sound of your own footsteps for company.

But you aren’t a child anymore, you tell yourself; There aren’t any monsters going to jump out of the nearest shadow to get you. You aren’t still afraid of the dark. That would be ridiculous.

That’s why, when a shadow detaches from the wall, you’re primed and ready to send the datapad on hand flying in its direction. It misses, and faster than you can open your mouth to voice your terror, they slap a hand over your lips and start dragging you back into their hiding spot.

Instinctively, you claw at your attacker’s shoulders only for your nails to slide harmlessly down smooth, cool plastoid. A stab of startling clarity, and your eyes are darting to the sword-and-cog insignia emblazoned in red across his pauldron. Higher up, to a familiar helmet with a familiar color scheme—Fox.

The fight leaves you so quickly you sag in his grip, a moment of weakness he readily abuses to drag you further into the alcove. You register your shoulders hitting the wall, then your back, until the bulk of his armor is pressing you deep into the shadows.

“Can I help you, commander?” you finally work up the courage to ask, unable to soften the bite from your words. His silence makes it hard to calm your racing nerves, to pull your thoughts together, to think at all.

Your quickened breathing is loud in the small space between you. The pop of his helmet’s airtight seal is louder. You flinch at the sudden noise, but go still when one of his hands starts to rub soothing circles into your hip bone. With the other, he lifts his helmet off and lets it fall to the ground, clattering loudly and then rolling into your ankle.

There’s a long pause, and then: “I’m hungry.”

“... Ah.”

Fox has always taken great care to maintain the facade of the infallible commander of the guard, the model clone trooper complete with a regulation haircut and the emotional range of wet cardboard. The headlines call him steadfast, the citizens, cold-blooded; His quarry can only say he’s terrifying.

In this moment, he’s desperate. Vulnerable. Any anger beginning to brew from his rude surprise cools at the sight.

His whole body is trembling, almost vibrating, and his eyes are so far blown that they’re almost totally black. His skin has turned colorless and ashy, corpse-like, and its frigidity can be felt through the thick fabric of his gloves. 

Fox’s mouth is slightly parted, the distended tips of his fangs pressing into his bottom lip. You can’t tear yourself away from the sight, darkly fascinated by the way they gleam wetly with saliva. You can feel the blood rushing through your body, drumming in the places where your veins lay beneath your skin. Where you know he’ll sink his teeth.

You swallow heavily, your fear replaced by a not dissimilar, but altogether different thrill.

The clones of the Coruscant Guard have been on the receiving end of the public’s… curiosity. Whispers abound, they say that the guards never take off their helmets. That the workload is too heavy for their number, that they must go days without sleeping to keep up; Some claim that they don’t breathe.

Even before you knew what, exactly, made them the way they are, you agreed with the general sentiment: There is something incredibly eerie about the Coruscant Guard.

The chill of Fox’s skin makes you shiver as his nose bumps against your jaw. He inhales raggedly, his breastplate digging more firmly into your skin with the motion.

“Your heart is beating very fast.” He sounds off, dazed like he’s already half-drunk with blood. Your pulse kicks up even higher when he presses his mouth to that soft spot under your jaw to feel it.

You must make some noise, because after a moment he pulls away. The heat of Fox’s gaze bores into you even when you can’t meet his eyes.

“Am I scaring you?”

“... No.”

For all that you’d been doing this for several months you’d never been approached by Fox in the same way as his vode. Others who’d taken the agreement—credits for your blood and discretion—had offered and been turned down. If the shinies who stayed back to chat were to be believed, he only fed from his closest compatriots.

That doesn’t mean you haven’t noticed the weight of Fox’s gaze on you, observing you like he can’t help himself. You haven’t wondered what his bite would feel like, if he’d be as sweet and apologetic as some of the younger Corries, or whip-fast and to-the-point like Commander Stone. You haven’t considered if he’d want you to feel just as good as him.

It feels like you’ve swallowed sand, with how dry your mouth is. Every inhale whistles through your esophagus, which, in the meantime, feels like it’s been scraped raw. Your face is uncomfortably hot. Fox’s thumb is still swirling hypnotic, utterly damning circles against your hip.

Licking your lips, you try to smile. “I can handle it, if you promise to be gentle.”

The first prick of his fangs stills you; You’re biting your lip to keep quiet. But as Fox continues to sink his teeth into the column of your neck, you can’t help the soft whine that escapes your lips. He hums low in his throat, one hand sliding up to cradle the back of your head. He tilts it gently away from where he’s fixed, lessening some of the pressure.

Being held my him doesn’t hurt. It’s barely uncomfortable. And after a moment, the bite stops being painful too—ebbing away as a heated flush slowly spreads through your body.

You can feel blood pooling around the punctures and sliding down your neck. Fox laps it up hungrily. Much like the rest of him, his tongue is cold, and it feels odd passing over your skin.

The longer he feeds, the more pronounced the effects it has on you become. Your memory of Thire’s explanation escapes you, something about sedatives and happy chemicals that keep their prey pliant. It feels like your brain is melting, thoughts slipping from your grasp like water dripping through a sieve. You blink multiple times, hard, and distantly note how your vision has gone fuzzy at the edges. 

You think you should be frightened by this, but you can’t figure out why. Fox has you; You’re warm, safe, and perfectly content to go boneless in his hold for as long as he wants you there.

After an indeterminable amount of time, you’re roused by a strange sensation reverberating through your chest. It takes an embarrassing amount of time for you to realize that Fox is purring.

Many times you’ve done this, and not once has a Corrie purred like they’re shaking apart, trying to fit you inside their ribcage and keep you there. 

“Oooh, the big bad commander is getting soft,” You giggle drunkenly. 

“Pipe down. You’re just—warm,” he mutters, brusque tone belying the way he fists the back of your uniform in his attempt to press closer. Seeing as he’s already pinned you bodily down, Fox isn’t very successful. Nevertheless, his satisfaction is clear when he starts purring louder.

“That’s just because your body sucks.”

A pang of disappointment shoots through you when Fox finally pulls back. His breathing is slow, but heavy, and he’s still curled into you like gravity is pulling him in. Your brain is still too addled to control the pathetic whimper that slips out at the loss of proximity. 

Fox chuckles raspily, moving to dot kisses like freckles across your cheeks. Your legs are wobbling, fawn-like, and when he steps back you have to grab him again, lest you keel over and onto the duracrete floor.

Fox is looking much better. There’s a healthy flush to his face that speaks to the new blood flowing through his system, and his eyes have returned to their normal brown. The relaxed set of his mouth, however, dips down into a frown as he surveys you.

“... I got greedy, took more than I needed. My apologies.”

“It’s okay,” you sigh, “You needed it.”

Your eyes keep sliding closed without your permission, but, more lucid now, you manage to prop one eye open and fix him with a coy look. “However, I wouldn’t mind someone taking responsibility for his actions and helping me back to my flat.”

“Yeah,” Fox murmurs, pressing a coppery kiss beside his weeping bite mark. You can feel him smirking against your tender, abused flesh, and shiver. “I can take care of you.”

When the lights finally click off and plunge you into pitch-black darkness, Fox silences your startled shout with his own mouth.

[angel-of-the-moons]

Didn't Plan On It (AKA, Your Friends Are Assholes)

Khonshu x Fem!Reader

TW/CW: NSFW, forced marriage (kinda??? You SORT OF consented to it???), hints at sexual stuff, groping, my shitty sense of humor

MINORS DNI I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR CONTENT YOU CONSUME

A/N: Based on this post I got tagged in asdfghjkl (I loosely based Max off a friend of mine 💀)

You loved your friends, but hated them at the same time.

Loved them because they were quirky and weird and matched your energy...

...Hated them because they matched your energy.

A double edged sword, for certain. But at the same time, there's nobody you'd trust more to come to your aid if some creep got up into your personal space. You'd all grown up together, been through everything through thick and thin, even if some of you moved away at some point.

There was Mari, the oldest one in the group by two years. She was like the aunt of the friend group (you were the group mom) who you all could trust to suggest poisoning an ex who did you wrong.

Then, there was Elizabeth "Lizzy", she was the one in the group that alcohol hit the hardest, the lightweight who got cuddly when she was drunk. She did everyone's taxes for them (you know how to do them, she just does them better). Stabbed her ex boyfriend for cheating on her, didn't get any charges pressed (somehow).

There was the other Elizabeth, whom everyone just called "Eli" to avoid confusing her with Lizzy. (Sometimes you all call them #1 and #2) Eli was the most tomboy of the group, her fashion very much stuck in the "grunge" fashion from back in the 90s. 90% of her fashion choice is band merch, she is the one who drives everyone to concerts and manages check-ins at events to make sure everyone is accounted for.

After Mari, Lizzy, and Eli, there was Zoey. Her contact number in everyone's phone is almost always "Zoey 101". The highest IQ out of you all, she was the one who manages passports, IDs, and luggage checks when you take trips together. Has way too much knowledge on the supernatural and the occult.

After the four of them, was Kayla. Kayla was the one who always knew everything about whatever group projects you were all assigned to in school; ask her an obscure fact and she could spit out an atlas or encyclopedia on the subject. Dresses like she's a model on a runway almost every day. Owns 5,000 pairs of feetie pajamas.

And finally, there was Maxwell "Max". You all likened him to Max, Goofy's son, due to how lanky he was. A beautician by trade, always wore flawless makeup when he dressed in drag. Or, just gorgeous in general. Your team's "Gay Avenger" and he watches your drinks at parties like he is a lone sentry between him, a sniper and a platoon of soldiers in the night. Max was the one you knew the longest, you two were born only a few days apart; your parents being best friends even longer. You all made every single one of his drag shows to support him, screaming and cheering the loudest.

Right now, you were at Kayla's house. She was a successful real estate agent and made serious bank; so hosting the bachelorette party in her honor there just made sense. Cheaper, too.

You all had a private party, getting wasted, eating snacks, dressing each other up, holding Lizzy's hair when she puked into the toilet, watching old shitty rom-coms, and letting Max put his best drag looks on all of you. (That was his favorite part of the night, honestly.)

But somehow, inevitably, the occult was brought up. Not by Zoey, but by Mari. She suggested playing with a ouija board.

Kayla had slammed her hands on the table and said, "Hell. No! Not in my house! I'm white, but I'm not horror movie "let's open a magic door and summon a demon" white!"

"Yeah, let's be real. The demon would probably claim Max first." Lizzy grinned, jerking her thumb to the man in question.

Max dramatically clutched his invisible pearls, the gaudy fake tiara crooked in his poofy curls as he gasped incredulously, "Not on the first date, girl! He'd have to put a ring on it, first. I have standards."

"Oh, he'd probably put a ring on something--" Eli snorted into her drink, earning a loud round of chortling from the rest of you.

As the laughter died down, Zoey had said a loud thoughtfully, "Well... there is something I read in my forums recently. A ritual..."

Kayla squinted at her, pointing her manicured nail into her chubby little cheek. "What did I just say about demons?"

"It's not a demon!" Zoey giggled. "It's a god."

"Oh, so instead of a demon, we're gonna summon something possibly even more dangerous?" Mari sighed, raising an eyebrow. "I d'nno how a god would feel about puny mortals like us summoning him from a plane of existence we can't even fathom just to ask him to strip for us."

"Noooo!" Zoey frowned at her as everyone laughed. "It's kind of like a.... fertility rite? Or well, maybe more like some kinda ceremony that's supposed to gain the favor of the god or something. It was discovered by some sort of archaeologist recently in a scroll!"

"A scroll." You deadpan, setting your empty glass of wine in front of you, leaning back on the couch.

"I think I know the scroll you're talking about." Kayla had piped in. "It was found in some recovered temple out in Egypt, right? By one that one world famous professor and historian?"

"Yes! So you know which god I'm talking about, and how he's not dangerous." Zoey nodded excitedly, growing more and more energized at the possibility of playing with magic with all of you.

Kayla tapped her nails on the tabletop, twisting her mouth as she mulled over her options. Deciding that, fuck it, Zoey had a point... it couldn't hurt to end the night with a bang.

"Okay, okay.... let's do it."

"Yessss!" Zoey said, jumping up and bouncing on her feet. She stopped and awkwardly cleared her throat. "Well, er... we kind of need a subject to be the centerpiece, though... the "anchor" of the spell..."

"Wait.... You said a fertility god?" Max squinted, his eyes glimmering cheekily.

"Well, healing, protection, fertility..." Zoey listed off, her voice trailing away.

"Okay okay, but let's focus on the fertility part." He replied. "So odds are.... the anchor of the spell is going to get laid."

"Well... It's a possibility."

"So, who gets to be the lucky anchor?" You asked, tilting your head.

The silence was so loud a mouse could sneeze and you all would have heard it.

And then.... their heads all turned to you, grins spreading on their faces as they all traded conspiratorial looks with one another.

"Oh fuck you." You snap, shaking your head.

"Well, babygirl..." Max leaned in, his arm over your shoulder. "I know for a fact you haven't been laid in a good long while..."

"I have an active sex life!" You retorted, your voice becoming shrill.

"Battery-operated silicone boyfriends don't count." He deadpanned, earning laughter from everyone in the room.

You slump in your seat, pouting like an angry child. "I don't need help getting laid!"

"Well, it's also..." Lizzy said slowly. "The last guy you were with was Troy... and we all know what happened with him."

Your mood soured further at the mention of your highschool sweetheart, the man of your dreams... or so it had appeared. You'd held out on him for a while, finally giving in on prom night and getting a hotel room and having sex with him.

And one day, you decided to drop by his family's house with an early birthday present. ...Only to have caught him in bed with his best friend's mother. He'd been cheating on you with her for almost the entirety of your relationship.

It was after that break-up that you just... didn't want to date. Even if you were lonely, you wouldn't give in because your sense of trust had been betrayed by the guy you were absolutely besotted with.

Eli cleared her throat, "Oh come on. Nothing's gonna happen... it's not like we're gonna sacrifice you on an altar."

"Ugh! Fine! Leave me alone! And when nothing happens you're all paying for my drinks the next time we go bar hopping!" You shouted, throwing your hands up in the air.

Zoey rubbed her hands together, grinning. "Now, then.... let's make a run to that little shop on Malden Street! They're 24 hours and have everything we need!"

You groaned as you got tugged along, Mari the designated driver because she was the only sober one.

Yeah. You hated and loved your friends.

Zoey had begun setting up the altar around the bed in the guest room, finishing it almost too quickly for your liking. Max and Kayla had dolled you all up for your "date", ensuring you looked your best when that god (never) appeared.

Dressed in one of Kayla's black nightgowns and her silk robe, Max had your hair styled "just right" and your makeup "tastefully minimal"--whatever all that meant.

Eli and Lizzy had killed the lights, while Mari cleared the rest of the bedroom for whatever else would occur.

You laid down on the bed as everyone sat in a semicircle around the bed, Zoey standing with a wax candle in hand as she read the spell screenshotted on her phone aloud as best she could in the language it was written.

You laid against the plush pillows, staring at the ceiling in boredom, listening to Zoey drone on and your other friends giggle in anticipation at the stupid middle-school antics they were perpetrating upon you.

Eventually, the room fell silent as Zoey kneeled like the others staring at you with rapt attention, her eyes glittering in excitement.

Only... nothing happened. Not even... well, you weren't sure what magic would feel like if it was cast on you.

"Hah!" You said, lifting your head to look at Zoey, pointing. "I told you nothing would happen--"

Your six friends all fell backwards with startled shouts and shrieks when, in a blur of light... you vanished.

Right in front of them!

"Oh, oh no.... Um... whoops...?" Zoey said, her voice shell shocked and tiny as a bead of sweat dripped down her brow.

Max grabbed Zoey and shook her, "What did you do! What did you do?!"

The moment that flash of light dissipated you hit whatever soft surface you were on with a gasp, almost feeling your lungs squeezed of all air before sucking in much needed oxygen.

You blinked your eyes open, and when they focused on your surroundings... You realized you weren't at Kayla's house anymore. Your friends weren't sitting in their silly ritualistic circle... Zoey wasn't staring at you like a bug under a microscope.

You were... somewhere. The bed you were on was insanely large and round, the sheets a divinely soft texture, almost like the velvet of a moths's wing. A canopy was above you, wafting in an unknown breeze. Marble pillars with beautiful scenes painted on lined the room that was very sparse, save for a table laden with food in the corner.

You swing your legs over the bed and rub your temples.

You were drunk. You were black out drunk and this is all some kind of horrible dream that will cause you migraines with your inevitable hangover in the morning.

Right?

Yeah. Not so lucky.

When your eyes opened once more, you were still in the strange marble room.

You groaned, standing up and shivering as your feet touched the cold stone floors, polished to a fine sheen that reflected the dim torchlight lit on various oil lamps lining the room.

You looked to your side and noticed some kind of balcony, the night sky just beyond.

You frantically ran for it, hoping that maybe you might be able to call down to the street below for help, but... no luck.

Your hands wrapped around the stone banister and your jaw dropped. You weren't met with the night scenery of some kind of city or town, or even a sprawling estate.

Chalky dust, dented with craters and rocks and boulders stretched out beyond your vision's limits. And hovering in the sky where the moon should be, was...

The Earth. A shiny blue-and-green marble that lazily hung in the void of space, one side dimly lit by the sun while the other was black, lights from the cities below dotting it with a golden hue in the shadow of the--the fucking moon.

You were on the fucking moon?!

"How the hell... what..." You said, your heart thudding in your chest as you walked back into the ornate, pale room you'd exited.

Honestly, you were the darkest thing in there, dressed in all black, the silk hanging from your body and clinging to you in all the right places...

How were you breathing? What were you breathing? How were you even alive--

"Well... this is interesting." A deep voice mused from behind you.

You could feel someone looming over you. An oppressive feeling bearing down on you like whoever this was towered beyond your height.

You spun around, swallowing the lump of fear in your chest; but whoever spoke was no longer behind you.

"It's been some time since anyone has performed that ritual." The voice said again, "Though... uour friend should have worded it more carefully. Her mistranslation may cost you more than intended."

You looked towards the balcony, the thin curtains swaying in the breeze-that-should-not-be, a tall, imposing shadow barely showing through the other side.

An impossibly large man. Or... what looked like a man... if it weren't for the silhouette of the bird skull where his head should be.

Fear spread through your body at every leap of your pulse, dreading it as the figure began walking to the edge of the fine drapery. You anticipated some kind of horror show, but... well. You got the opposite.

A man with impeccably tanned skin, dressed only in a gold bejeweled collar and bracers stepped out, his white shendyt wrapped in some sort of sheer cover, his toned waist disappearing beyond, a thin trail of dark hair trailing up to his navel as his bare feet padded silently across the polished floor. On his chest was a crescent moon that looked like it was painted in some sort of gold across his skin.

His hazel eyes glimmered at you with an inhuman inner light, his mouth quirked up in a cocky smile that stretched his beard; his long, curled black hair striped with wisps of silver as it hung low against his shoulders.

One of his hands held a long staff, topped in a golden crescent moon, like the one tattooed on his chest. His eyes trailed you up and down as he slowly made his way over to you.

You were transfixed.

You were so struck by him that you didn't flinch until his fingers tipped your chin so you would look up at him, your mouth going dry. What the hell was happening?

"Well... at least you are pleasing to look at."

You felt your ego take the punch, and your awe at his beauty was shattered. Oh. So he was a dick.

"You--"

"Do you know why you're here, little dove?" He hummed, tilting his head slightly with a coy--but knowing--smile.

"I... My friend did some stupid magic circle, that's what!" You say, twisting your head free from his grasp, stepping away to wrap the silk robe around you tighter, suddenly feeling very self conscious.

"I asked not what brought you here... but if you knew what your friend's ritual has ordained for you." He chuckled lowly at your sense of modesty.

"I..." You flounder, wishing you had been listening to the details Zoey had been spitting as she set up the circle, earlier as Max and Kayla got you ready. "Something about..."

Your body shivered at the realization.

"... something about fertility?"

The man moved towards you in a blur, suddenly behind you once again; his body heat bleeding into you like the scorching sun on a summer day, his heavy hands circling your waist and toying with the knot in the robe.

"Close." He had whispered, his lips touching the shell of your ear as your body went rigid in his embrace.

"Your friend mistranslated "offering"." The ridiculously gorgeous man hummed deeply. His lips skimmed your bare neck in appreciation; "She said "wife". Imagine my surprise, while I was overseeing my Fist's duties and I heard that incantation over the divine space. I simply had to see who performed such a ritual."

"W-wait you can't be saying that..."

"I am afraid so, little dove." He breathed, his mouth leaving a hot kiss to your leaping pulse, making heat pool low in your belly. His hands slid beneath the robe, touching the soft nightgown that covered you beneath; barely touching the undersides of your breasts.

"You belong to me, now."

You stood ramrod stiff as his hands roamed you, mapping out every dip and curve your body had; every hollow and mark in your skin, driving your body mad with desire despite the shock of your current situation.

"It is human custom to consummate a marriage after a ceremony, yes?" His mouth once again found your ear, his words hot on your skin, one of his hands slipping beneath your robe and gown to brush his thumb over one of your pebbled nipples; his other sliding down to slowly hike up the skirt of your nightwear, his hand groping and squeezing the fat of your thigh.

"It has been... overlong since I have indulged in such pleasures. But I assure you, I have a--very--good memory."

All six of them had been in a constant state of panic, frantically wondering if they should call a priest or the police. The sun was beginning to creep over the horizon, painting the sky in gorgeous colors as clouds lazily danced about the atmosphere.

Max had yanked at his curls, "I'm to gay and gorgeous to go to jail!"

"It was magic not murder, you drama queen!" Mari shouted, shaking Max's arm frantically.

"Who the fuck should we call?!" Lizzy shrieked, waving her arms over her head. "The fuckin' Winchester brothers?! Fucking Constantine?!"

Zoey practically sobbed, emotionally raw and scared. She hadn't expected anything to happen with this! After all, none of her other dabblings caused something like... like this! What if she mistranslated in the wrong language and accidentally sent you to Cthulhu? What if she cursed you to one of the circles of hell? Did she say something wrong?!

"I'm sorry!" She sniffled as Eli rubbed her back, trying desperately to stay calm. "I didn't know!"

"Well, we are not ever doing goddamn magic ever again!" Kayla hyperventilated, fanning herself desperately with her hand, the other holding her long hair up in a bunch to get it off of her sweaty neck. "God damn it, this shit always happens in horror movies! Me and my big mouth--"

They were all almost knocked to the ground again, when, in a bright flash of light... you were dropped onto the plush mattress once again. Only this time, your appearance was far more disheveled.

Your makeup ran down your cheeks, mascara tracking down your face from dried tears, your lipstick smeared and hair messy; your clothes haphazardly askew in several places.

You blinked, your eyes not entirely focused as you sat up and looked at your friends. You zeroed in on Zoey. You didn't seem... hurt? Mad at her?

Instead, your usual coping mechanism kicked in. Humor.

"Scully.... You're not gonna believe this..."

[back2bluesidex]

Where Do Broken Hearts Go (18+)- Teaser

Pairing: Model, ex-boyfriend!Jungkook X Child psychologist, Fem!Reader X Lawyer, Single Dad!Hoseok. 

Summary: Jungkook stripped your emotions naked, left you bare in the chilly wind of despair and self-doubt with an unending heartache. You tried your hardest to move on from him, to live for yourself but failed miserably. Each night you had to come back to your empty home where memories and broken dreams were scattered all around the floor, until one day a little angel and her unbelievably beautiful father came into your life. Finally, when you find yourself healing, maybe falling too, Jungkook had to show up! Again!

Theme: Angst (For the teaser)

Warnings: it's just very angsty, an argument and a proposal (we will see about that) 

Word count: 730 (For the teaser)

Listened to: Where Do Broken Hearts Go by One Direction

Taglist requests are closed!

Minors and karens are not allowed in this blog

Disclaimers: Pictures are taken from Pinterest.

Main Masterlist

Chapters:- 

Prologue/Masterpost || Chapter 1 || Chapter 2 || Chapter 3 || Chapter 4 || Chapter 5 || Chapter 6 || Chapter 7 - Finale

Teaser

“Sorry. I’m late.” Jungkook’s muffled voice rings behind your ear. 

You were so lost in your thoughts, or fear, that you didn’t even hear him entering the cabin. 

He heads towards the seat opposite of yours, without any further greetings, any kiss or even a hug… oh hell not even a single glance.

“As if it’s the first time.” you scoff. Jungkook chuckles nervously, removing his mask and snapback. 

“Let’s order something. Heard their soy sauce chicken is a hit-” 

“Y/N, I can’t stay for long. Can you make it quick?” Jungkook cuts off your words. His tone is so curt, so foreign that you doubt if it’s actually him underneath his skin or not. 

“Jungkook… What's wrong? Why are you making things so formal? For fuck’s sake it’s me. Your so-called girlfriend.” Your voice quivers but you scream nonetheless. 

“Y/N! Quit being dramatic and lower your voice. We are not at home.” Jungkook hisses, teeth gritting, eyes narrowing. 

“Home? You mean the apartment you left because your agency said it’s risky to share a space with your girlfriend of three years? The same place you refused to meet at because paparazzi are keeping tabs on you as you are rumored to be dating someone else?” you reply with the same ferocity. 

Jungkook closes his eyes and rubs his face with both of his palms. Taking a sharp inhale, he says, “Can you please tell me why we are here? I don’t think you booked this private cabin just so we can fight?”  

You roll your eyes, less in sarcasm, more in an attempt to make your tears disappear.

You sit straight as if being prepared for the sword that is going to pierce through your heart, “Jungkook, do you... do you love me?” 

Jungkook visibly stiffens. His eyes go wide as if someone has asked him to jump off of the building. You see him collecting himself and clearing his throat only to lie, “O-Of course I do. But suddenly why?” 

Even though you want to believe his words, you know those are as hollow as his eyes and maybe his heart as well. 

“Then..” you pause, reaching for your purse. Pulling out the pitch black velvet box, you look at him. Jungkook’s eyes are wide again, filled with horror and confusion. He probably knows what you are doing and he does not seem to be the least bit happy.  

You stand up from your seat and round the table to reach Jungkook, “don’t you think it’s the high time we get engaged? It’s been three years since we started dating, our families approve each other, and... and we have always wanted a future together.” You open the box for him to see, a tight-lipped smile lingers on your face only to punctuate your proposal.

Jungkook looks up at you with his big doe mystical eyes and then looks down on the ring you have spent a fortune on. Your heart hammers in your chest, but it is not the flattering kind. Your heart races in a fear that you know, yet don’t know, of yet. 

Jungkook’s face falls and he looks away from you. He plays with his fingers and avoids any kind of eye contact with you. You stand there like a doll made of steel, staring at him with the ring. 

“Y/N. This is not- I can’t. I mean, this is so sudden. I am at the peak of my career and I can’t think of getting engaged or married at this point of life. Why are you rushing everything like this?” Jungkook’s eyes are still trained on the table, not on you. 

“Because I am afraid, Jungkook. I am afraid you might leave me behind if I don’t try to hold onto you now.” you finally let your tears fall. You sob uncontrollably. 

Jungkook whips his head towards you and then stands up slowly. He holds you by your arms and opens his mouth to say something, “Y/N. I-”

“But I guess it’s too late now. You were long gone. You were gone far before the day you were seen with her. I should have understood Jungkook. I should have…” you run out of breath but still continue, “now please answer me honestly, you love her. Don’t you?”

Jungkook starts avoiding your eyes again. His grip on your arms loosens and you somehow know the answer already.

Taglist:-

@phenomenalgirl9 @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @soraviie @sukunabitch @chimchimmarie @coffeedepressionsoup @meowstake @vonvi-blog @nochuel @xjoonchildx @justmewondering-recs @cuteipat @miakey98 @purpleanchorcrown @chimmisbae @ane102 @llallaaa (I hope I have not missed anyone.)