#the fact I'm writing shit of them is a sign of desperation

[ando666detonao]

Do you ever think about the fact that King Dice is a mortal, so the devil is going to outlive him eventually

Not a day goes by without the thought hitting me like a truck. I even thought of writing a oneshot about the Devil dealing with the grief of losing Dice unexpectedly, but it stayed merely as an idea.

both scenes above are dreams of the Devil and how's been affecting him throughout the yrs, the whole thing would've been set in his subconscious.

[ohraicodoll]

Tumbling After

Joel Miller x Feral Reader/OC The Last of Us 3.1k Words/ 3rd POV Feral Reader Masterlist Summary: All the fear Joel feels at the fact she's no longer expendable, that it's not just sex, and the only way he knows how to cope with it. Warning: 18+ Minors DNI. Sexual content and mild violence/language. AN: I'm slowly working through all my ancient drafts to get back into writing after over a year, almost two, without writing. I don't know if this is good at all, but I finished it so yall are getting it now. Would roughly take place after Honey but can be read as a standalone with no real backstory.

The lantern illuminated the small dark room, casting sharp angles all over his face and the small flashlight he held between his teeth. The contents of their small first aid kit was scattered all over the toilet seat, his rough fingers shuffling through their supply while Red stayed sitting on the broken counter. The rain outside was pounding heavily against the dilapidated walls of the broken down RV they were taking refuge in, thick droplets sounding like bullets against the metal walls. Even in the noise he could hear the telltale drip, drip, drip of a leak as water fell into the ceramic bottom of the shower. It’d been a decent travel day up until the flooded tunnel. 

Minimal contact with infected, no signs of people, and he had managed to catch a couple of suppressed smiles out of Red as Ellie went on a rant about how people were dumb for not traveling wherever they wanted when they could before the world went to shit. It was hard to argue with her when she was not only on a roll but also kind of right. The tunnel crossing was meant to be a safer way through the city and crossing water wasn’t new for them by now. The cars were close enough they could hop across and then he’d swim a flat wooden palette holding Ellie to the exit and Red would follow. Easy. Routine. 

But halfway through swimming Ellie to the exit the bus Red was standing on shifted and the wall gave way underneath her. He heard her curse and the distinct thunk of a body hitting something and a splash. It’d taken him shouting at Ellie to stay back and not to jump into the damn water, leaving her floating close enough to the tunnel exit ramp, before he dove back in and raced for the bus. He’d never swam so fast, pushing his aging body further than he’d had to in a while. Red luckily hadn’t been knocked unconscious, but was worse for wear. Joel had no clue how he managed to bust through the window and get inside in the span of a heartbeat. He had gotten to her in record desperate speed and carted her all the way to dry ground, an arm across her chest and swimming one handed back. He didn’t even have it in him to yell at Ellie when she had finally splashed in after them only for him to drag her back out like a wet cat all while checking his companion over for injuries. Then of course the day went completely and utterly to shit when it started raining. Absolutely pouring right onto them. Now Ellie was passed out in the RV’s only bedroom, exhausted from being drenched and panicked and hiking half an hour in the cold rain. And he was trying to patch a long gash in Red’s arm and along her ribs where the busted metal wall had sliced her. He didn’t like how his heart was still in his throat, how he needed to take care of her wounds himself to make himself feel better and ensure that she was okay and whole. It had been a few hours but he couldn’t calm himself down and could see her disappearing over and over again into the abyss, the water swallowing her.

What if he had been slower? What if it had been her throat sliced up rather than her arm? Finding the needle and thread, he set them and the flashlight aside and grunted, “arms up,” before tugging her soaked shirt off her body. She didn’t protest, only raised an eyebrow and complied silently while letting him peel the piece of clothing off her skin. He wrung it out and tossed it over the small shower curtain rod to dry, the drip increasing twice as much. His focus was on making her okay, barely reacting to her now sitting topless in front of him.

It was the bleeding that concerned him more.

He intruded on her space, slipping in between her thighs naturally as he grabbed her chin, forcing her head to the side so he could see the scrape there too. It ran high on her cheekbones and was rough, but not too serious. Nothing like the other injuries, barely anything really, but there were small specks of dirt still clinging to her face alongside the blood. He could feel her breath on his hand, his skin, from how close he was standing to look her over. 

Softly, slowly, she blinked at him and he dropped his hand before gruffly handing her the flashlight to hold. Again, silently she did as he asked, watching him. He got to work. It was becoming harder to ignore her, ignore….this. The way she looked, the small mannerisms that sometimes set him off. It was like that night in the cabin, in the store, had opened up the floodgates of possibility and that was enough to tempt him every second. Almost like she could sense the hitch in his breath, the change in thought, her eyes always burned into him as she stared unblinking. Predator watching prey.

She wasn’t unaffected though. It was the way her cheeks would flush slightly, pupils dilated, a fire in her eyes along with something like uncertainty. She’d never say anything, but wouldn’t protest when his fingers found her skin. He remembered another night like this one in another small bathroom. A shitty gas station after a long day, another reckless instance where she hadn’t stopped to think before shoving Ellie out the way of a collapsing pillar.

Joel had dragged her to the bathroom to clean her up. Had stood close and met her eye to eye as she watched him silently. That was when he attempted to put the wall up. For the first time at least. To distance himself from whatever this was. He had swallowed and braved speaking as he felt his heart speed up in anticipation, “That night and the other time…. they don’t mean anything.” Nothing had changed in her eyes, no disappointment, no dying hope. “Okay?” she replied almost mockingly with a raised eyebrow. “Okay,” Joel breathed out. More words caught behind his throat, more excuses, but they choked deep down. The words hidden in the space between explained it all. This was release, only sex, it meant nothing. An agreement. For a brief moment his mind brought up a similar conversation with Tess. The same dull , shallow agreement and her reply like she was annoyed he had expected her to get emotional. But neither of them did. In the back of his head, he wondered if it had always been him that got more attached. If he found himself with women that he hoped were apathetic so it would give him the excuse to be the same. But that wasn’t true. Because Tess had always wanted more even when she fought back against him and said she was fine with the status quo. She wanted to occupy his body and blood and mind and heart. To find a home in him instead of the shitty places they ended up. Yet he hadn’t been willing to give that. The memory of his previous companion had been sharp that night, painful, and he had slammed his lips into Red’s if only to forget faster. Forget what had happened, the people he had lost, the booming sound that popped his ears and the fire that crackled after. The things that only lived in memory. He had kissed her hard, aggressively, and her thighs welcomed him, hitching around his waist. She had wrapped her arms around his shoulders, bringing him in closer while his hands found the bare skin under her shirt. The bathroom was small, but they would take whatever privacy they could with the kid in the other room. 

She always kissed him like she was drowning and he was air, desperate and pleading. The only desperation she ever showed. He would never get over how good she felt and how well she took everything he gave her. Joel didn’t have to worry about being soft, reassuring, apologetic to her. They weren’t like that. It was a release for them. All the frustration at the world, the tireless pushing onward and watching their backs, the worry and the stress all getting taken out on the other. She never backed down from his broken edges and she never asked if he cared about hers.

It was a hurt they both craved.

Things were different and the same now. Months of learning each other, of surviving together. Some of the tentativeness had washed away and was replaced by something else. Something that somehow felt closer than what he had had with Tess in the years, decade, he had spent with the woman. And that was terrifying.

She had wormed her way in so quickly.

Joel finished the knot for the stitches in her side, bending down and snapping the string with his teeth. She shivered as his beard grazed her ribs, his breath hot on her frozen skin. He clocked the motion and straightened, closer than before, the light bouncing off between them. Silently, he dropped the bloody needle on the counter and took the flashlight, setting it to the side. His shadow cast wide and tall behind him like a dark giant and she sat mostly in darkness.  

The only sound was the pounding of the rain on the walls and the drips and the quiet of their shallow breaths as they stared each other down. He could easily pinpoint every detail about her even in the dim light. Joel had mapped out every inch of her skin blind, didn’t need the light to know her. He didn’t have to break contact to notice the way she swallowed and licked her lips before saying, “What? No beratement?” 

“Should I be berating you?” Joel whispered roughly back, the sound too loud in the small room, “You jump up and down and do the fucking hokey pokey to make the goddamn wall collapse or something?”

That one got him a twinge of her lips, a mile of progress for how small the movement was. 

“I wish. Would have been more entertaining. Though usually all I need to do is breathe wrong for you to jump down my throat for getting hurt,” she quirked an eyebrow and almost relaxed, leaning back on her hands despite how painful the movement must have been from the fresh wounds. He chewed on the inside of his mouth, eyes tracking the way the skin of her ribs stretched at the thread holding it roughly together and how her breasts were pushed forward more. Joel didn’t reply though, only skimmed his fingers along the wounded skin and watched the goosebumps rise in their wake. It was the main hint that she wasn’t as unaffected and he loved seeing any reaction.

She wasn’t as tightly in control as she thought she was.

The silence stretched but he stayed transfixed with the cut and the steadiness of her breathing. This time it was her who cupped his chin, raising his gaze to meet hers with a sharpness that made him want to wince.

“I’m not dead, Tex,” she frowned, “And I’m not made of glass. Shit happens, we move on.”

She was right. But his heart was still in his throat and the image was on repeat and he fucking hated that he couldn’t shake it. Hated her for making him feel that fear for another person when he was trying to just handle Ellie. So many weak spots to hit him with.

“You constantly scare the shit out of me. More than the kid most days,” he whispered aggressively. The words were supposed to have more bite to them, but they came out both angry and fragile. Like she had somehow coerced them out against his will and he had confessed more than he wanted, “Goddamnit, I don’t know what to do with you.”

She frowned, face all shadows and harsh lines, “Do with me? I am not something you have to do anything with.”

He scoffed bitterly, nostrils flaring in irritation, “Then what? Next time you go down I fucking leave you?” He knew what the answer should be. Yes. He should. Because she wasn’t priority, she wasn’t the potential cure that would save humanity, she was simply a tag-a-long he had allowed Ellie to drag along for comfort. Like an angry emotional guard dog. 

Yeah he knew what the answer should be but part of his anger was the fact that he also knew it was no longer something he could follow through with. He would jump into that cold water, beat a raider with his bare fists, sew her up time and time again without hesitation. That had been the issue he had been wrestling with since that cabin, since giving in and getting involved. He let his walls down and she had slithered in, slicing a part for herself whether she knew it or not.

But this was Red, who didn’t know what to do with that. Fragility or soft whispers or confessions, whether they were intentional or not. Who saw herself as a weapon. All claws and teeth and hard broken edges because it was safer to be a knife than a person. She tightened her grip on his chin and dug her nails in while jerking forward until they were flush together and she was growling into his mouth, “Yes, that’s exactly what you fucking do. You leave me and get Ellie out. I am not weak, Tex. I am not a child for you to babysit-”

He winced at the sharp stab from her nails and tried to pull back but she pressed in harder. Gritting his teeth, he opened his mouth to argue back and she snarled. Lips pulled back and teeth bared, she closed in, a couple inches away from his face, “I sink, you move the fuck on. Whatever it takes to make sure Ellie is safe first and foremost. That’s what we agreed, what you told me from the start. I refuse to be a fucking liability to her so don’t you fucking make me into one. I’m not a goddamn damsel for you to save, Miller.”

His mind almost violently objected to what she was commanding him. And that more than anything made him want to force her own words down her throat, to push them back in from the air and make her swallow them so he didn’t have to confront the fact that he didn’t know if he could anymore. 

So Joel hissed back, “You’re so fucking frustrating,” and kissed her, roughly, teeth a harsh clash and his own grip as painful as hers because physical pain was better than whatever was happening.  Her nails dragged sharp lines through his hair and along his scalp and he moaned at the feeling, the sound slipping out and swallowed by her. Her thighs tightened around him and more sounds almost left his throat at the way the restricted hard press of his arousal met her center so perfectly. This was the battlefield he knew well when it came to her. He could fight her easily this way, lick and bite and make her moan in submission. 

He felt steadier between her thighs. 

Not when they were outside the room, with clothes on, confronting the fact that she had risen far up the priority list for him. 

His hands were tugging at her jeans, working to pull them off roughly. She didn’t want to be handled gently so he didn’t care that she hissed at how it jerked at her stitches, only that he wanted to get to where she burned hottest and didn’t care if it hurt to do that. It didn’t stop her and it wouldn’t stop him. Red’s mouth left his, pressing hot kisses along his beard and jawline, finding the tanned skin of his neck and the sensitive spot under his ear. It was fucking distracting and one of his hands dove into her hair, unable to stop himself from touching her and urging her on while also tightening his fist around the strands painfully. She bit down into his skin and he groaned as she soothed it with her tongue afterwards. There wasn’t much room, but they made due with what they could find and he didn’t care about going slow and careful. Joel wasn’t going to draw out the occasion or work her up until she was dripping and panting for him this time. He was angry and frustrated and conflicted and wanted to take it out on her. Because she could take it, was always able to take it. 

He took pleasure in the growl that left her throat when he thrusted fully into her in one go, not giving her a chance to adjust for him, letting her feel the burn if only so she could feel an ounce of what he did. 

His jeans and belt were uncomfortably digging into his skin but he didn’t care as he yanked her harshly and began to pump into her aggressively. His lips were on her chest, her collarbone, teeth nipping at those fucking little stars etched into her skin. Joel went hard and deep, fingers digging into her waist and other hand gripping the edge of the sink to brace himself. He faintly thought he could feel the sewing needle stabbing his palm, but he welcomed the pain. 

Red met him for every thrust, head for head, teeth for teeth. They both were angry, maybe for different reasons or the same for all he knew. All he could think was that this was punishment. He’d make sure she felt every inch of him now and later tonight when he was leaking out of her and tomorrow when her hip would ache when she moved. He wanted to brand himself into her if only so she would get an ounce of what she did to him. 

The rain was loud, almost deafening, working to cover up the way she gasped and moaned under her breath and hiding the fact he couldn’t stop whispering her name over and over and over again.

Not her name, her title. 

Red was Red, taking every ounce of violence and punishment and riding it willingly to her peak. He felt her clench around him even as blood dribbled out of a popped stitch and his belt dug into her thigh and he had probably bruised her even further. She bit and tore at his skin like an animal, riding her orgasm. Even if he hadn’t cared about getting off. Even if he hadn’t cared about her getting off. She never backed down from his anger and would take what she wanted. So he tumbled right after her, whether he meant to or not, because he couldn’t resist her.

Joel always would follow after her.

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[chaconnewon]

drabble ——— jay (smut)

a/n: hii, sorry for being inactive, i wasn't inspired enough to write something and everything I did seemed like shit-- so I had this short idea. I hope you like it. As always, english is not my first language so I'm sorry If something is wrong or doesn't makes sense at all. <3

Thinking about best friend Jay who likes way too much to make you embarrassed whenever the topic of sex comes up in a conversation because ‘’accidentally’’ he found some of your sex toys while you were in your bathroom, and he stayed in your room.

You can feel your cheeks heat up as his gaze lingered on you for a little long time. Seems like no one around you two noticed this behavior but honestly you didn’t want them to know. You didn’t need more people bringing out your little secrets.

So, how come you ended up under his body? You pants were off, and nowhere to be found. He had one hand next to your head, holding his weight. His other hand was between your bodies. Jay was holding one of your vibrators close to you, and even though the device was turned off, you could clearly feel nervousness running through your body.

‘’Can I turn this on…?’’ He asked, searching for your gaze. Or any sign of uncomfortableness. You nodded.

Before he switched on the toy, he spread your legs using his, and settled down between them. Jay pushed slowly the top of your vibrator to your clothed cunt, massaging with no rush. The feeling was nice and soon you found yourself biting your bottom lip to suppress any gasps coming from your throat. 

Jay looked half curious, half lost at his own thoughts. How could you look so pretty, all on display for him? You agreed so quickly to let him try those toys on you, affirming that they felt so good if they were used correctly. But of course he didn’t believe you. How can a toy make you cum just by itself?

So here he was, turning on the toy and pressing it directly to your clit. You gasped for air, tensing your legs a little like if you were trying to close them, but Jay didn’t let you. He smirked, slowly rubbing the top of the toy along your clothes folds and back to your clit.

‘’Does it feel good, hm?’’

You nodded eagerly, him chuckling at your response.

In fact, it felt so good. Your mind was clouded by his warm body, and how his eyes were scanning you, like if he was trying to engrave all of your reactions for himself. He turned two levels up, and you let out a surprised moan.

‘’Y–You should try it too.’’

‘’Should I?’’

He wasn’t very familiar to sex toys, or how to use them but this one, specifically, seemed to be easy. Jay approached his lower body to yours, his bulge on his pants meeting the vibrating top of the toy. His free hand clenched the sheets, panting as soon as he started to feel the pleasure running through his body.

Guided by your moans, Jay started to rock his hips into the toy, sending you another way of pleasure as the toy itself reached your firmly. Even though your eyelids started to feel heavy, you couldn’t resist to keep them open and watch your bestfriend get off with you. His clenched jaw, lips pressed to not let any pant or whimper escape from him. 

‘’F–Fuck this feels so good���’’ you heard him say, and nodded.

One of your hands traveled under your shirt, lifting it above your tits to free them and starting to knead them. You were so desperate for more friction and couldn’t wait to ask him. Couldn’t help; the way you clit was being stimulated with the moans of your best friend was too much to take. 

He saw you, eyes dark with thick desire.

‘’Shit— You do this often?’’

The way the pleasure hitted you left you speechless but allowed you to nod at his question. And he could feel himself hardener even more to the single thought of you getting off with that exact toy: legs wide open late at night, with no panties and wet. Shit, he needed to see that. He needed to be the reason for your moans.

And well, now he was kinda the reason.

‘’I–’’ you started, catching his attention. Jay wasn’t even thinking to slow down, ‘’Sometimes I got t–to come faster while I thought about y–you…’’

Your sudden confession made him groan, and felt like that was his last straw to keep it cool.

Jay tossed the toy away, gaining a surprised look from you. He hooked the hem of your pants, along with your underwear, and pulled through your legs. The did the same with his own bottoms, freeing his hard dick from the damn jeans he had on that were hurting his boner.

Again stood betweens your legs, looking down to your wet pussy, and felt the urge to sink his mouth through it and shove his tongue down your hole but that wasn’t the plan.

At least not today’s plan.

‘’You don’t know how many times I jerked to the thought of you, y/n.’’ He slid his dick between you wet, warm folds. ‘’Wishing that was your lips around my cock and not my hand.’’

He quickened his peace, not letting you the opportunity to respond at his confession. Your room was filled with hot and wet sounds, laced with the moans you two couldn't keep to yourselves. Each thrust from Jay made his dick tip brush into your swollen clitoris and had you seeing stars. 

‘’Can you go f–faster? I’m s–so close.’’

Your words were his command, and so did he. Grabbing your thigh for better stability, he used all his stamina for that last moment. His dick was glittering due to your arousal, leaving it sticky and slippery for a better access through your pussy. He looked at you, lust covering all his gaze and made eye contact with your bouncing tits.

You back arched as you felt that familiar knot tightened in your lower abdomen, and you could tell by the way Jay movements were sloppier that he was close too. A few strokes were enough for you two to reach your climax. Warm and sticky ropes of his cum layered on your stomach, some landing at your pussy as well.

His grip on your thighs started to hurt while he was emptying himself on you, but at the same time felt so good thanks to you high that you couldn’t care less.

[dressthesage]

My biggest beef with Double Exposure breaking up max and Chloe off screen isn't even about the breakup itself. Like, yeah blah blah blah I ship pricefield whatever, but it's more like a massive red flag that this is a desperate, lazy cash grab.

Like I actually really love the stuff we've seen of the new love interest in the new game. The story itself, with max removed, seems pretty cool actually. I love the idea of a murder mystery plot where you bounce between universes where it did and didn't happen. That's a really cool idea that I would love to see a game of!

The problem is none of it feels Max Caufield. Even if you want to try and justify it by the shit max did in the last chapter of game 1, that was max time traveling to various points of her own life and then popping back up in the present of the world after her changes. Unless it turns out max is the killer, it just doesn't track the same.

It feels like they wrote an entirely separate story for a new mc and pushed Max in as an after thought. Genuinely, if they'd put a new mc in the game I'd be overjoyed for it. Like they wanted to use Max for the marketing pull but didn't want to make one ending canon or put in the work to write a story about a longstanding relationship already in progress. So they just broke em up so they can write another "new couple coming together" plot that's way easier.

Like it or not, Chloe Price is an essential element of the story of Max Caufield. Max's powers being time travel are a clear expression of her wanting to make up for her mistakes in the past, mostly around the harm she did to Chloe by abandoning her. Chloe's death is a result of max abandoning her because she wasn't there to help her friend when she was needed most. Max's devotion to saving her is based on that guilt and the fact she still loves her best friend. Sacrificing Chloe is Max admitting she can't undo the harm she did but trying to stop from hurting others. Sacrificing the bay is her saying she is WILLING to do whatever it takes to make up for her mistakes and make things right with Chloe.

Even if you wanted to do some exploring of what it means to break that kind of bond with someone, you don't do it BY HAVING THEM BREAK UP OFF SCREEN. Lazy, hack, spineless bullshit is what that is.

If you have something interesting to say with a change in direction for a character, have the confidence to stand on it. If not, then either leave it the fuck alone, or put in the work to follow the core of a story to its faithful successor.

Idk, if it really knocks folks socks off I may give it a shot but all I'm saying is this feels like a big warning sign that the team making this sequel kinda don't give a fuck.

[laswells-ashtray]

Hello comrade (also please tell Orca hi from me), I know you did a wonderful piece on Adler and baby Phil just recently, but I am unapologetically greedy about your writing, so if you do not mind, could you maybe share your thoughts on how they would spend, like, a fun weekend day in the city? Maybe a zoo trip or one of those science museums that have cool interactive exhibitions where you can watch like a tornado form in a glass box by a press of a button and then it explains some physics laws (do I make sense? I hope you get which ones I mean, I am obsessed with them). Or something like that.

In any case, I hope you have a great day/night and remember that you are our very loved comrade and always a delight when you post literally anything ❤️🦍

I'm gonna be honest with you, I'm choosing the zoo because it's easier to describe than sciencey things as someone who enjoys those museums but also failed every science I ever took and doesn't know how to articulate anything involving such. Also, obligatory gorilla conga line: 🦍🦍🦍🦍🦍🦍🦍🦍🦍🦍🦍🦍🦍🦍🦍🦍

It's safe to say, it isn't Russell's traditional way to spend a Saturday. But, he lets the tiny hand in his lead him over to the bear enclosure with a smile because Phil's little legs are moving so quickly that he expects them to spark soon.

It's busy, as to be expected on a sunny Saturday but he manages to secure them a place by the glass so that the four-year-old can see the bear. A couple of well-thrown elbows can get him anywhere he damn pleases.

It's almost comical how close Phil is willing to get to the glass just to look at the bear inside of its enclosure, offering it a wave with his free hand as the bear peers back at them, not a care in the world as it lounges about on the grass.

"Is he grizzly?"

He looks away from the bear, eyes drawn back to the little boy in front of him as Phil squeezes his hand. He shakes his head, glancing over at the sign detailing the animal's information.

"I don't think so, kid. Says she's an Andean bear."

"Huh."

It doesn't seem to deter Phil, his enthusiasm doesn't falter in the slightest as he admires the beautiful creature in front of them. The markings on the bear's face give it a distinct kind of regality over the other animals in the park.

A soft mutter reaches his ears as his son gazes wide-eyed at the bear. "She looks fluffy."

At that moment he knows that when they reach the gift shop he'll be looking for stuffed bears to see if he can hunt down an Andean bear plushie for Phil to keep at his house. His wallet be damned, his boy is getting a bear.

He peers over at the sign, listing every common fact about the bear from her age to her weight to her average lifespan in captivity. "Says she's only seven, her name is Beatrice."

Phil tugs on his hand again, this time with the force that demands Russell meet his eyes. He doesn't even try to pretend that the shit-eating grin on the four-year-old's face doesn't make him smile.

"Beartrice."

And with that, the famed Russell Adler is broken into a fit of laughter by a four-year-old in a Tom and Jerry t-shirt.

He ruffles Phillip's hair with his hand much to his displeasure, messing up the neat blonde style that his mother had insisted he leave the house with. Informing her that they were going to the zoo and not a gala only resulted in her rolling her eyes.

Others start to crowd around them, all desperate to get a look at the "spectacled" bear in all her glory as the animal starts to approach the glass. He briefly considers staying but being boxed in by around twenty or so people is less than ideal, so, he leans down and carefully picks Phil up, planting the boy on his hip.

He hears his son's quiet protest as he walks away from the bear enclosure and he's met with a pout when he spares him a glance, he'd feel bad if it weren't a tactical decision.

"Well, kiddo, how about I make you a deal? We can go look at Daddy's favourite animal and then get some food before we go and look at the rest of the animals. Maybe, if she's still awake we can come back and see Beatrice later."

Phillip doesn't seem convinced, crossing his arms and looking up at him with such a serious glare that it almost feels like looking in a mirror. It'd take less effort to convince Woods to drink lighter fluid.

"What animal?"

He pinches the boy's nose, grinning at his grumble as tiny hands try to pry his own away.

"Well, I was gonna take us to go see the lynxes. They're like a big version of Mrs Petrillo's cat."

The description seems to help convince Phil that the new animal would be worth leaving the bear for. "A kitty?"

"Kind of, yeah. A big kitty."

After maybe twenty seconds of deliberation, Phillip nods and looks at him expectantly.

"Let's go see the kitty."

So, maybe he could convince Woods to drink lighter fluid.

[jacksonseymour13]

This post is long

Anybody feels disappointed there wasn't enough angst, mistrust or tension between Gi-Hun and In-Ho? Angst!Inhun

I love these old lovelies and this ship with all my heart but I can't help but feel like it was lacking in overall conflict. Two people working together,main protagonist and main antagonist being allies. Gi-Hun's massive trust issues that were played up in the first 2 episodes leading up to him joining the games didn't nearly impact enough as the episodes proceeded. The significance of #01 and that connection to the old guy from S1(help I forgot his name😭🙏🏻).

I needed In-Ho proving and bending over backwards to have Gi-Hun trust his ass. In-Ho was on a mission to infiltrate Gihun's trust before ripping it apart last second as a "I told you so honey".

Gi-Hun definitely had a stronger tense dynamic with Sangwoo in the game, yes you could argue their childhood besties and have known each other for as long as possible but it doesn't change the fact Gi-Hun was weary of Sang Woo and showed several moments doubting his authentic nature in the game, especially after glass Bridge.

GIVE ME A HANDOUT! I need them screaming at each other and having a power struggle with Team X, I need them driving each other crazy and wanting to beat the living shit out of each other(although they never come to blows😉). Fake player In-Ho and Gi-Hun's dynamic was IMO wasted and could've been so much juicier. I'm happy with what we got but...

The greedy desperate cunty that I am needed just a little more gravitas and sprinkles of a little bit of this and that in their relationship. Gi-Hun should have been 100% suspicious and kept his guard up with In-Ho after he was the sole responsibility why everyone continued in the games post-1st vote. His red flags should have been going off crazily. Gi-Hun joined the game with focus not to play the same game again and play as Level 1, nah bro. He had his stats and composure maxed out.

He should have made a mental note of In-Ho never being present(becausenowayGihunwouldsuddenlyforgetahandsomemofolikethat)for waking up,red light green light and before the vote. Blud just teleported in. Gi-Hun had no real reason to trust In-Ho either but let me run with it before I get cooked by everyone(I still ship but the writing was a little questionable)

I would have loved Gi-Hun and In-Ho to have a conversation after 6 legs about In-Ho 'crash out moment'. That's his first glimpse exposing himself to Gihun without this unpenetratable armor of confidence. He saw In-Ho at a stressed point and would've been nice of him to reach out, make sure he's okay. They have a heart to heart there and In-Ho gets some truth off his chest that he has all this pressure of maintaining a perfect exterior. It would show a sense of inferiority complex and a little more depth of In-Ho in Gi-Hun's eyes. Gi-Hun just has the reason why In-Ho voted 'O and nothing else.

Using the fanon brainrot with this last one but I would have Gi-Hun replace Jung-Bae in the last mingle round of 2 players. It makes sense they would go together, It would be very interesting and turning point in Gi-Hun's eyes regarding In-Ho. It sucks because the writers HAD it right there and just did nothing with it. Jung-Bae not telling Gihun or Gihun ever picking up a sign In-Ho cannot be trusted was so fluffy and for what? I love fluff Inhun but angst Inhun would have went TWICE as hard.

Gi-Hun trust would probably solidify after seeing In-Ho kill that player after he votes for 'X but the potential, the confrontation and doubt needed to be shown so we can see how In-Ho would tip toe around such questions. Gi-Hun asking him where he was during RLGR,why he really voted for 'O in the first game just to turn around and vote 'X afterwards. The writers really let me down with this one yall but still a super sexy toxic ship that didn't fail me. Can't wait to see what Reveal!Inhun has in store for us.

[dxncingwithastrxnger]

prologue: the death of a wise king (Obey Me!)

***HEY!! PLEASE READ!! This story will have a lot of angst and a lot of Major Character Death and Injury, BUT, I want to tell people ahead of time that it will not stay that way and there WILL be a happy ending, so, if you're willing to stick it out for awhile, I promise it'll be worth it eventually!!***

A/N: Aaaaaahhhhhhh!! A multi-chapter obey me fic?? From me?? We'll see how many chapters I get out before I start forgetting to write more 💀💀 But!! I'm currently actually really excited for this story and have a lot of motivation and inspiration for it right now, so I'm hoping to get a lot of it written out!! It's gonna be way angsty, but it's also gonna be so fun. I got the inspiration when I was playing around with some different scenarios regarding nightbringer and such, so do with that what you wish. Happy reading!! I hope you enjoy!!

Pairing(s): None (yet)

Summary: A disturbance in the quiet.

Tag(s): Major Character Death, Blood, Sharp Object (Mentioned), Fear, Angst

Word Count: 455

Song Inspiration: Technically none, but listening to Way Down We Go by Kaleo while you read it is a vibe

Not beta'd, all mistakes are my own.

~*~

[Series Masterlist] (Link TBA)

[Prologue] [Chapter 1] [More To Be Added]

[Read on AO3]

[Author Masterlist]

~*~

A high-pitched, blood-curdling scream breaks the quiet of a seemingly normal morning at RAD. It was a scream that was immediately recognized by most, but some knew it better than others.

“ASMO!?” Lucifer shouts as he leads the group in their endeavor to follow the sound, his voice tinged with panic and concern.

They didn’t have to go far. In fact, they didn’t even have to stray from their original path, as the scream came from their planned destination. As they reach the doorway of the RAD student council room, there are multiple other shouts.

“Asmo!? What’s goin’ on, huh??”

“Asmodeus!?”

“Are you alright!?”

“D-Did something happen!?”

But as everyone entered the room, they all stopped in their tracks. The only sound was the whispers from the other students in the hallway as they creeped closer to the room, trying to figure out what all the commotion was.

Asmodeus was in the middle of the room, stopped right before reaching the round center table. He was visibly shaking as he stared straight forward and the others were certain that if they could see his face, he’d be crying.

But the sight of him was not what had the others stunned. No, it was more likely to be the dead body placed over the table and the beloved human standing on the opposite side, blood dripping from both. But it’s clear that the blood only spilled from one of them.

“I-Is that-?”

“Oh, shit.”

“No.”

A pause of silence, and then, “Lexy…?”

The person on the other side of the room showed no signs that they heard their name being called. He stood still as a statue, staring down at the body of the other human with blank eyes and a familiar dagger still clutched tightly in their fist, his head tilted down. He was still wearing his sleep clothes, which were now torn and dirty with more than just blood.

A quiet whimper echoes through the room and Simeon is quick to grab Luke and face him away from the scene, cursing himself for not doing so previously. Multiple others also found themselves looking away, unsure how to handle what their eyes were witnessing.

Lucifer then reaches forward to place a hand on Asmodeus’ shoulder. The other demon startles before immediately turning and latching onto his older brother, choked sobs muffled by the chest his face was buried in. The Avatar of Pride stares across from him with a look of betrayal, confusion, concern, and anger.

“Lexy…Lexy…What did you do? What did you do?” He asks urgently, desperately, pleadingly.

But Lexy wasn’t answering.

And the Wise Sorcerer lay dead on the table between them, warm blood still leaking from the stab wounds in his chest.

~*~

A/N: So!! What do we think of the prologue? 👀 Imma prolly cry so many times while writing this story, the things I'll do for the sake of fandom content, smh. Please let me know what you think, I'd love to hear it!!

My asks are also always open, so if you wanna discuss anything obey me related or just wanna say hi, then please don't hesitate to stop by and do so!!

If you wish to be added to a taglist for future parts of this story, lemme know!!

[str8aura-no-not-that-one]

This is a true story that happened to me. I was there.

This wasn't that long ago. It was when I first started stockpiling Estrogen, and picked them up in little pill bottles from anywhere I could. This meant visiting a lot of drug stores, pharmacists, clinics, the like, and since I didn't have a car at the time, it meant a lot of walking.

Now, I like walking. Liked it ever since I was a hatchling. Give me a canteen of water, an MP3 player, and a broad hat, and I could march to Mordor. It's something I'm very good at, I enjoy greatly, and has the added benefit of usually getting me somewhere when I do it. So I needed to get from my shoddy lodgings over to a clinic run by some guys I knew, and between us lay about eight miles (three hours hoofing it) of road and desert.

I'd done it before, I wasn't too worried. Unfortunately, I made two fatal mistakes. The first is obvious, and you'll want to slap me for saying it; I forgot my canteen. Brain slipped, and I went right out the door without realizing until my lodgings were a dot in the distance. I should've packed it up then and there, but I just so happened to catch sight of the Goodyear Blimp flying overhead, which where I come from is a sign of good luck. I assumed the gods were smiling upon me that day, and I kept going.

The second mistake is the real reason this story is worth writing down. Less than ten minutes into my odyssey, I ran across a gas station, and a hyena outfront with a foldup plastic table and wares of some sort laid out in front of him. Seized by curiosity, and assuming him to work for the station in some capacity, I approached, and he revealed to me the object of his merchanting. Little green bags, branded professionally with a corporate logo and nutrition facts, containing blocks of four red gummy squares.

I don't remember what he told me. He probably could have said they were salted with asbestos, and I still would have taken them. His was hardly a silver tongue, and I will make no attempt to claim he 'deceived' me in any way. It was my own stupidity that landed me in hot water; I was desperate to put something inside me, and it all seemed very legitimate. What's more, they were free, and I was rather used at this point to people giving out free stuff on the street for the price of listening to them about their organization or podcast or some shit. He wanted neither; merely the vague promise that I might spend money on his product later. I took a pack and went on my way.

Disgusting little bastards they were. Way too thick and crumbly, rather than squishy like a gummy candy should be. Regardless.

The Long Walk continued, under the blazing sun above, over the criss-crossing rivers and past grafitti-scrawled walls. Before long I arrived, just fine and dandy. I stopped into the clinic and pardoned myself to the restroom.

Lowering myself onto the throne, it hit all at once.

My perception during those moments cannot be quite adeptly explained. Perhaps, as I am unaccustomed to this sort of thing, it is a common experience older users are well-versed in and will recognize my description of. Perhaps it was an experience unique to me, seeing the world in a way mortal eyes never have before and never will again.

I saw a film strip. A line of every 'frame' of my vision, stacked right up against each other in chronological order past to future, and the present moment smack in the middle. In other words, as the strip rolled past me, I could see the future a split second before it happened, and the past a split second after it was gone. I had been very mildly Slaughterhouse Five'd. To put it bluntly, I was higher than giraffe pussy.

I stumbled out of the bathroom and to the lobby, asking as politely as I could given the circumstances how I appeared to other people. The answer was not good. If you've ever been on public transportation and seen a gentleman mumbling to himself, the kind that concerned mothers pull their children away from, that was me in that moment.

No offense to those gentlemen of course. I was given an entire bottle of wine by one on the subway once.

Desperate to remove myself from the possibility of a public intoxication fine, I left the clinic and attempted the return trip, sweating like a pig and stumbling like a cub. The things I saw on my odyssey cannot be fully described, but rest assured make the Goodyear Blimp look like a deflated balloon. So far removed from reality I was that I began considering the option that I may have been disconnecting from it entirely somehow, halfway in and out of some sort of simulation I had been running my entire life. Perhaps this is true, perhaps it wasn't, but that was where my head was at.

Although I will never fully be able to comprehend the Tao of Hunter Thompson, on that day I felt one step closer to that fabled enlightenment.

The rest is a blur. I got to see what the inside of an ambulance looked like. I experienced once again the pleasure of having a needle stabbed into my arm, something I had previously been denied by the local blood bank due to an abundance of repeat visits. I am haunted by the bills to this day.

Two days later I received a text containing my Toxicology report. No trace of any sort of narcotics was present in my system that day.

[laststandx3]

I'll be bitter for a minute and say it: i think the terror for how good it is, is also very partial on crozier on being #1 mister only good colonizer in the arctic, and i sort of hate it because the change happens only because he sobers up. and sure alchool makes people cruel, but sobering up doesnt make them perfect. he went from let silna be left on the ship without protection/kick her out for the tuunbaq if she doesnt help us/ rip the guy that died to get me a bottle of whisky, anywayy to peace and love on planet earth lets us all take this walk together while i share words of wisdom and love with this other colonizer who's also very sorry he didn't do anything good with his life. Crozier started the journey at least as a heavy day-drinker and i understand how that's different from heavy alcholism but at the same time i can't imagine all of crozier's faults being the consequences of whisky alone. and having him overcoming his alcholism and wising up immediately after being clean for a few weeks is FOR ME a terrible writing choice that paints him as being naturally good and his 'bad' behaviors coming ONLY from the alchool. yes he sees blanky getting hurt and that's starts his sobering up path. but that's not enough for me. the people (other characters state aloud for the audience) he loves more than god loves them are dying left and right. and i really dont care if corzier cares about the crew or not but if he cared he should have cared about them even when he was drunk and not remembring about their wellbeing AFTER he got clean. i'm not saying you cant enjoy crozier. i just believe his character development isnt earned and that he got it only because he's the designed good character that canonically survives in the book. i dont think that him shitting himself for a few weeks while sobering up can count as having the emotional development to go from one extreme to the other. especially because everyone else is also there sufferring physically and psychologically even more than him due to the fact that their all stranded in the arctic and dying of scurvy and no one else in the crew could have the time off work, privacy and attentions to heal. crozier being the 2nd on command and then captain used his power to become a drunk and later to clean up. and i just dont believe that a man who abused his position like that from the beginning just becuase he was pissed he couldnt marry the woman he wanted suddently stops abusing his position because he's now clean and pure. TO ME it's a bad writing choice that is also force-fed to the audience with the line 'more than god loves them' so that you get it for sure that he's the good guy who cares about people not like those others evil characters who would do anything to survive like killing innocents and being racist (the good guys could never. except they canonically did- but wait, not in THIS continent so it doesnt matter) and eating people (which is a sign of being naturally evil, no matter the circumstances) or following a religion in a desperate last chance of survival (again no one on the good guys side would put religion above good sense and the safety of fellow human beings. in this continent?? maybe? ugh)

in summary i think the main flaw i find in the terror is how much it still tries to draw a line between good and evil. instead of just trying to portray the human disperation for their mortal condition. how much having to come face to face with tuunbaq must destroy all of those men convinctions on what life/afterlife are (for what i remember it just addresses it for tozer AND in the SCRIPT) nobody else gets a life shuttering experience. it's either the devil, then good christians should be safe, or it's a different religion, then what?? what do you do when your life looses its meaning? and the answer for most of the charactes was 🤷‍♀️guess we'll think about it after this awesome party we're about to throw. i dont want this to be about religion, but these men are wrecked in every way, there's nobody to save them and everyday they're a little more in pain than the one before. there shouldnt be a camp of the good men lead by the strong and wise one who take care of their sick and lets the dying die peacefully with morphin. while in the bad guys camp they eat people and have evil laugh competitions and kill their sick with knifes bc giving them poison might make them unedible. and specifically those evil guys where also the reason why the expedition happened to hurt the locals, the good guys have nothing to do with it.

i dont think there's nothing wrong (narratively) in doing anything to survive. even if it's something cruel, because those men are at the end of the world alone, it's at least realistic that they'll try everything to avoid death. crozier(and jfj even if offscreen) gets to be cruel at the beginning of the story but by middle point they're shown to be sad (about unrelated things) and spend the last few episodes being kind and brave (and forgiven by the narrative) while their chance at character development is uniquelly given by their ranks. in the meantime the consequences of those cruelness (only hickey, because we dont get to see survivors of jfj trip to China, if he left any) dont get the chance to heal and change because hickey's position of subordiante never allows him to be really safe, and because his torture was public, automatically making every witness taking the side of the perpetrator. hickey's never given weeks off work to recover because he got lashed because of his own actions. hickey doesnt get words of wisdom from a companion because in his mind everyone agreed with crozier in him deserving the lashes, (except maybe tozer? but even that isnt that clear cut) hickey, manson and hartnell also magiaclly heal from the lashes after a few weeks (even when ANYOTHER character cant heal because of scurvy) so the narrative can't held crozier accountable for the pain he caused.

the good guys and the bad guys' actions are treated differently by the show. even when the good guys actions should have consequences and the bad guys' shouldnt. the narrative has already decided which sins will be forgiven and which will be punished. and it's a bit annoying to me because for how wonderful the terror is, i cant help but feel like i'm being spoonfed a narrative about morality when at its core the story is about humanity.

[eleanorfenyx]

I have finished Mysterious Lotus Casebook, and here are some of my thoughts! (Obviously not spoiler free)

The cases are absolutely batshit insane and I loved it every single time they were like 'we totally collected this evidence that incriminates a secret suspect, just believe us and also don't question when the fuck we had the time to do this or when we figured out that we needed to look for it'. 10/10 no notes, that's a hilarious way to have a genius detective. Show us nothing, tell us everything, YES king.

That being said, I could have done with a lot less standing around having the supporting cast repeat whatever Li Lianhua and Fang Duobing announce, maybe in an attempt to make sure their genius is clear for the audience? I get it, but at the same time it felt a little too hand-holdy for me, especially in scenes where LLH and FDB had already discussed their findings between themselves before presenting them to the concerned bystanders. I can read between the lines (or else understand what has just been explicitly stated) without having every conclusion filtered through a slightly different sentence structure to make sure I got it.

Di Feisheng amnesia arc my fuckin beloved

Di Feisheng destroying his 'father' and freeing everyone in Di manor in a vicious act of catharsis that tied nicely into the main Nanyin bug-mind-control-thing narrative my beloved

Di Feisheng my beloved

The amount of times I was like...genuinely surprised he and Li Lianhua didn't kiss is both embarrassing (because I do in fact understand censorship and what I sign up for with these dramas and yet and yet) and numerous enough that I could...possibly...theoretically..write a 5+1 fic of every time I want them to kiss about it. No one hold me to that but it's something I think I'd like to do.

Re: the above point: because what the FUCK was that ending?!!! EXCUSE ME?! I gotta FIX THAT SHIT.

There will come a day when the strength of my hope for an unambiguously happy ending in a queer(-coded? is the source originally bl or is this its own thing?) wuxia drama is rewarded....but it is not this day. I must fix this myself.

Jiao Liqiao's laugh is one of the most annoying things I've ever heard. I was reaaaaally hoping someone would just up and stab her during one of her little evil laughing fits. At one point I was shouting "KILL HER, KILL HER" at my screen because I could NOT take anymore of her (unfortunately, I did in fact have to take more of her).

I still think her insistence on being obsessed with DFS is hysterical when he is so VISIBLY only interested in LLH. Explicitly STATES that his only life purpose is to fuck fight LLH again. Babygirl (derogatory) he is so fucking gay let's get you a nice knife to the gut instead, okay?

I thought the whole Shan Gudao plot was interesting, going from looking desperately for his body -> putting him to rest -> hunting for his murderer -> finding out he's alive/the mastermind behind everything going wrong (which I was proud of myself for realizing before the reveal, I'm normally bad at that) -> thwarting him with sass and superior martial arts at every possible turn -> killing him stone fuckin dead with beginner level skills because he's so up his own hole he can't see that's what's happening - was really fun!

He also has a SUPER annoying laugh he can fuck off

OH OH OH MARTIAL ARTS SKILL OF TRANS YOUR GENDER?! I MARRIED HER SO HER AFFAIRS ARE MY BUSINESS NOT YOURS??? ASKING YOUR WIFE FOR HER FORGIVENESS AND UNDERSTANDING AS YOU LAY DYING AND SHE GIVES IT TO YOU?????? OKAYYYYYYY

The twist at the end that LLH is the one with royal blood was so funny to me. Like it's a good twist and I love that Shan Gudao was just quite literally always a fuckin try-hard loser in ways he didn't even know, but also it was SO funny. Granny coming in clutch at the last fuckin minute with secret knowledge she just literally never shared.

LLH is such a smooth motherfucker. Shame about his insistence on dying when quite literally everyone (bar the people who suck) is begging this man to just live. Just LIVE DAMN IT!!!!! I really liked it when FDB begs him to just consider his own life as important for ONCE and remember that people care about him because YES his self-sacrificing and committment to Chilling Out Farmer Style was not the mercy he thought it was!

LIVE AND GROW OLD WITH DI FEISHENG YOU DAMN IDIOT (the likelihood of me resisting the urge to write at least the one fic for them is zero to none)

Unironically love spitting up blood as a plot device and this show is no different. The Drama. The Panache. The desperation of everyone around you because you have BLOOD coming out of your MOUTH and you are FAINTING. Poison acting up? Spit blood. Someone bitch slap you with their magical palm ability? Spit blood. Get stressed? Spit blood. Get stabbed? Spit blood. It's always good!

Okay I think that might be all I've got for now, if I think of anything else I'll add them in a reblog. I thoroughly enjoyed it, would definitely recommend!

[idleglowingpixels]

I was rewatching Monster High: The Movie (2022) cause the sequel's coming out next week and upon rewatch, the fucking signs that Komos was actually Hyde's son not from the writing but from the COSTUME DESIGN for him was so striking to me that I'm pissed I didn't realize sooner.

Not only does he have the glasses, sideswept bangs and general human appearance of Jackson (minus the horns, I think in this universe Komos's mom was like a centaur or something, would explain why he's still so human-looking besides the horns), but there's nods to Jackson and Holt specifically all throughout his outfits in the movie.

(Also for the sake of ease I'm referring to the teacher as Komos cause typing Hyde Jr. or something constantly is gonna drive me nuts)

First, there's his main outfit which we see across the film as well as in promotional images, and YOU CANNOT FUCKING TELL ME the posing for his promo pic wasn't an intentional nod to Jackson LIKE LOOK AT THIS SHIT!!

The main thing that strikes me is the inversion of the yellow/gold and blue with Komos's tie and shirt, also the fact the colors are significantly desaturated in comparison to Jackson's flashy yellow and blue. My interpretation of this is that it's representative of the bad-guy/villainous interpretation Komos represents, in comparison to Jackson/Holt which seem to be a rare good-guy/positive interpretation of Jekyll and Hyde. It's like, yes this is the Jekyll/Hyde guy of this gen, his outfits are nods to G1 but is otherwise an entirely different character than Jackson/Holt. Which I mean, I do respect the writers for not having Komos be this gen's Holt Hyde and just as "Hyde's son," I feel like separating the two (three??) characters is and was the best decision. Just two different interpretations of the "descendant of Jekyll and Hyde" thing.

Another part of the decision to go with Jackson's more traditionally nerdy or professional type of fashion style is interesting to me. Komos does not want to be perceived as his Jekyll half, he wants to just be Hyde, hence why he refers to himself as Hyde's son not Jekyll and Hyde's son. And yet, it's like he can't deny his human Jekyll side. To be honest Jekyll's only referenced a few times in the movie (which okay, Hyde's the monster half, I get that, but you'd think he'd be a little more important yeah??) so it makes sense they're focusing on Hyde more but I did find it an interesting decision.

Next there's THIS OUTFIT which on rewatch made me audibly point like that soyjak meme like "THAT'S A REFERENCE TO JACKSON AND HOLT CAUSE OF THE YIN YANG DUAL COLOR SHIT"

Red and blue are mainly Holt's colors, but Holt's signature outfit's shirt is also dual-toned, split through the middle.

It's just with Komos, there's less of an emphasis on the yin-yang thing Jackson & Holt had in their interpretation of Jekyll & Hyde -- he's unbalanced in comparison to them -- hence it's not a black and white cardigan. Also, THE BOWTIE! Can't get more obvious with the Jackson nods than that.

There's also this outfit I wanted to mention, the one he wears during the Founders' dinner toward the end of the movie. Notice It's fully red-toned, where his initial outfit was mainly blue-toned, and the cardigan showed the transition between. It's like at first, he's studious and mellow-natured with a bit of flare but nothing too crazy -- Jekyll. Then when he's wearing the cardigan, he asks Clawdeen about her research, almost insisting she provide him the information she's gathered because of his desperation to lose the duality going on with him. And finally, at the end, he takes the potion his father made, fully embracing Hyde and abandoning Jekyll once and for all.

---

That's pretty much all I wanted to mention regarding the outfits, but I remember when I first watched the movie, I was severely disappointed that Jackson/Holt were basically confirmed to not be making a return in this generation (or at least in the live-action films but I imagine it'd be pretty confusing to have two characters represent the same specific monster character in the same gen). They were a really underutilized character concept outside of Ghouls Rule, and I feel like especially with Clawdeen being half human in this version that they could've been friends or something!

Maybe Jackson/Holt could've served as the antagonist of the film in Komos's position, but not out of malice, moreso misguidance. Holt was kinda hinted at in his diaries to have depressive symptoms, it would've been interesting to explore that with how he might have low self-esteem because of his half-human-ness. Also, apparently Deuce in G1/G2 was half human too? Why did they get rid of that this gen??? I don't know why they keep shifting representation around at times.

Questionable decision making aside, I actually did enjoy this movie a lot. From an objective standpoint it's a DCOM-quality movie with average writing (except Frankie bro they were funny as hell in this movie), slightly more fashionable outfits than DCOMs, and a basic self-acceptance plot. There's several movies, including one or two in G1, with similar but better-executed writing and storytelling and similar themes. But DAMMIT I can't get enough of this movie when I see it. It's a comfort movie. :'D

I could go ON about the Jackson/Holt erasure all throughout this movie, especially with the rumors it was based off an abandoned movie concept for the two back in G1, but this post is too long already and I've distracted myself from my work enough. :'D If anyone on this side of Tumblr wants to hear that ramble, I shall ramble about it another day.

Also, HAPPY SPOOKY MONTH!!! My Monster High AU is beginning this month with the main 5 ghouls' designs as well as a one-shot I've written. Maybe stick around for that if you want to idk! :D

[dearcat1]

(Carelessness)

Part 5 of Sass and Squirrels

Xanxus comes back to the ruckus of his brother screaming his lungs out. He sighs, fishing out his keys. It's a good thing that he took over the new school too; otherwise Nana's forgetfulness would have Xanxus spending far too much time in that building. As it is, he's got a feeling that whatever he finds inside is going to piss him the fuck off. He's so sure of it, in fact, that he's already a little pissed, in preparation. The door opens to reveal nothing. The living room looks like it should, as does the kitchen. Xanxus hoists his backpack, fingers tight around the rough fabric. "Mama?"

There is no way.

Almost reluctantly Xanxus walks up the stairs and to his brother's room. Tsunayoshi is screaming so hard it looks like he might throw up, hands clenched into fists and face scrunched up with the effort. Xanxus drops his bag by the wall. "MAMA?"

He leaves his brother where he is, rushing down the stairs because something had to had happened. There is no way. Nana is a little scatterbrained, not the best mother around by any means but she isn't this careless. And yet, almost mockingly, the answer stares back at him. There's an innocent-looking small note stuck to the fridge, Nana's writing cheerfully signed with her name and a drawn heart. Went out for tea, it says. Like it's an acceptable thing to do. Like she didn't leave a baby all by himself for who knows how long. For the first time since Xanxus woke up in this new life, fury consumes him. He doesn't care about the scorch marks he leaves on the counter, his fingertips melted into the fridge. No, he stalks back upstairs, barges into his mother's room and starts breaking anything he can get his hands on.

There's something incredibly satisfying about hearing shit break and yet something heartbreaking about finally stopping, fingers bleeding sluggishly and tears falling down his cheeks, surrounded by the destruction. He breathes harshly, chest raising and falling in sharp, jerky movements. Xanxus thinks he might hate her, but he hates more that the thought hurts. At least her room looks as it should now, he thinks, drawing himself up. Tsunayoshi is still crying, so Xanxus turns around, closing the door behind him.

The way back to Tsunayoshi's room is both purposeful and a little too mechanical. Xanxus forces his mind to stay where it needs to be, this he can fix. The rest can come later.

"Come on," Xanxus grunts, grabbing his brother out of his bassinet. Unlike Nana's room, this one is still pristine. A few reddish marks where Xanxus's bloody fingers grabbed at something but otherwise just fine. "Come on," he repeats, not bothered by Tsunayoshi screaming in his ear. He's just being loud for both of them, after all. "Diaper change," he decides because Tsunayoshi stinks. "And then food."

Afterwards, they can hug on the couch and cry a little bit. Just a little.

"You're miserable," Xanxus hums, "I'm miserable." Misery all around.

Never again.

It'll probably strain his tenuous control of the school a little but… Fuck it. Whoever Sawada used to be, he's Xanxus's little brother now. And he doesn't deserve to be left behind just like that. Abandoned so that their mother can go out and enjoy the weather or something. If he thinks too much about it he'll get mad again so he pushes that thought away, focusing on the warm weight in his arms. "We've got this, fuck Nana." He stops, fingers tight on the bathroom's knob. "You can say it too," he allows. "I won't be mad."

Tsunayoshi gurgles something back.

Xanxus assumes it's appropriately demeaning. "Exactly."

"Who needs mothers anyway?" Xanxus announces, both of them are more relaxed after the bath.

His little brother smiles at him instead of answering, bright eyes peeking up at him from under the hooded towel.

This time Xanxus's flames didn't come out of impotence and fury, fear and a desperate need to stay alive. This time, his flames came out of indignation, out of worry for a brother who wasn't his before but is his now.

When Nana comes back, she assumes some sort of freak fire accident happened in her room. Xanxus doesn't tell her otherwise and grits his teeth while she lectures him about being more careful. He doesn't pull his hands away when she cares for his wounds, doesn't even protest the stupid little nickname or the kiss on his brow. But he doesn't stop frowning either. And if a part of him wonders if this is why past Sawada didn't even bother speaking up? Well, that's only for him to know.

[ruvviks]

hiii bones i desperately need to know more about the time seb and cassidy got chased by the NCPD and then hit by a car in front of the hospital i'm sorry i ended up getting obsessed with a small detail

HIII RENA THANK YOU SO MUCH it's honestly one of my favorite encounters of them all 😭 for context, there's a total of 28 encounters between january 2077 and december 2077; this encounter is the 13th encounter and it happens in the end of june 2077 (which, if you're interested, lines up with the in-game events in my canon with vincent and would happen around the same time of the parade; so while all of that serious business is going on you got these two clowns getting hit by a car SBHGFDJGDFJGD)

basically what happens is that for once, cassidy is not out to kill seb; he's having a moment in a bar and seb happens to show up at the exact same place, then believes that cassidy did in fact show up there to kill him (which usually is indeed the case) and this prompts a fight between the two which ends up escalating rather quickly into a full-blown bar fight. fun!

that is until the ncpd shows up and starts to arrest people left and right but naturally so, since this is night city, the cops end up getting dragged into the bar fight as well. at some point seb and cassidy manage to stumble out of the bar (well. one of them gets flung through the window and the other stumbles out of the bar) and one of the few still standing cops in the midst of the chaos and panic ends up arresting them?? sort of??? but also needs to call for reinforcements and he ends up just. handcuffing them together. oops

and then they need to run the fuck away from the cops because cassidy is wanted dead or alive by maxtac and kang tao and lowkey militech as well and seb is wanted very much dead by arasaka so if either of them were to get captured by the ncpd they'd be in a bit of a pickle. a big one

so! cue to a chase scene through night city (i feel like it's important to mention once more that seb is 1.99m tall with silvery gray hair that stands out in a crowd and cassidy is 2.01m tall with peach pink hair that. you guessed it. stands out in a crowd) in which they're mostly trying to outrun several ncpd vehicles but also around every corner they try to kill each other. while still being handcuffed together. on more than one occasion they would also end up falling into each other's arms and touching hands and all the other gay shit you'd expect from me and andy in our writing but that's not important right now

the chase ends pretty abruptly when they've managed to outrun the ncpd but they're still trying to fuck each other up which results in them running into traffic and then getting hit by a fucking car right at the entrance of the hospital =D obviously the driver is very worried and checks them in at the hospital so they can get looked at. they're still handcuffed together. no one questions it it's night city. they're now stuck in a waiting room for about 45 minutes with crying children, arguing couples, staring elderly people, etc etc, WHILE handcuffed to their arch nemesis. and they can't even kill each other about it

as funny as this whole idea is, the scene ends with them outside the hospital and amanda (seb's best friend and another member of the cobras, his gang) unlocks the handcuffs for them. and cassidy makes eye contact with seb very briefly. and then starts walking backwards and quickly turns around and leaves. and that's where it ends

because despite the fact that yes he does really need to kill this man, at that point it's become much more than just that contract that he signed with his mysterious client. with both seb and cassidy the other is fascinating to them and it's kind of become a game; they're each other's equal in combat which has RARELY happened before, it's kind of like enrichment?? obviously it's also infuriating and they're both going insane but at the same time it would by then have become something that they both rely on. creating intricate rituals to be close to another man etc etc

it's kind of like. violence as a love language honestly. like knowing what the future holds for them and all this is just. slowly but surely transforming into something entirely else than just two guys trying to kill each other because they both know that it's never gonna happen. they know the other isn't gonna kill them and they know they'll never be able to kill the other so really what does that all mean then? what's left? they could easily stop but that would mean they won't ever see each other again because well they're enemies. they can't suddenly become friends. they're both just kind of. waiting i guess?? to see where it goes. because maybe one day things will be different... not that they would ever admit to anyone let alone themselves that they would like for things to be different but like. it's about the subconscious yearning of it all. do you see the vision

anyway this got very long but i could've gone on for longer because. as you could probably guess. andy and i wrote out shit like this for every single encounter SBHGJMKFDGBFDJGKDF and then!!!! we have entire LISTS of jobs and targets for the later eras (this here is what we call killing era on account of the. well. there's a significant lack of killing but it's about the attempts i guess) with again. so much detail. THERE'S JUST SO MUCH WE HAVE SO MUCH TO SAY

[askyourwritergrandma]

Hello there. I have a bit of a difficult question in the sense that I don't know who to ask about it. You seemed to be arguably the wisest source to consult on the matter, so I'm taking a chance.

I had an idea for a fic that I wanted to write and I was actually in the process of writing it for a bit. It was for a small fandom event in which I signed up for. I was almost done with it and was in the finishing stages of them when I was obstructed by people and circumstances that really ought not to have ever been and as such, I was never able to fully publish it. Ever since then, I have resented the people who did this as I not only failed to deliver the final product I was supposed to, but I also looked like a fool. I hated everyone and myself for this entire thing as this is not the first time I had been stopped from doing something that I chose outside of everyone else's jurisdiction. To an effect, I still do.

As a more notable effect, looking at the document in which all of my hard work sat made me physically ill and enraged. I had also stopped writing completely because of how strongly I felt (and still feel) about this entire situation. Soon after the fact, I also essentially erased myself from the online space for a month because I didn't want anyone to question nor point out that I hadn't done it as I did not want to explain why and doing so would have me spiral out of control and simply delete my social media as I would not be able to live with it. I have only come back recently because I was sick of being socially isolated and alone. You would think that this would be the end of it, but there's one thing that for some reason sticks around.

I still want to write this story.

Yes, I know I essentially left them high and dry but this premise and what I had been working on captivated me to such a degree that I'm still thinking about it when my mind wanders on its own. But I still get sick thinking about my circumstances that I can't change nor budge and as such, I still can't stand looking at the document nor the outline. I desperately want to get to work on it again, but there's so much negative emotional attachment to it that I can't bring myself to do it because I wonder why I ever bothered with it in the first place if everyone and everything in my life keeps stopping me from doing it.

I've tried to write other things in the meantime, but they too are suppressed as I am constantly reminded of my failure and my circumstances that are not only unfair but ridiculous as this is the only outlet I really have and to see it limited to such a degree is sickening and still makes my blood boil.

I love writing things and I love exploring these things, but I don't even know how to do it when all of it is accompanied by rage, despair, inferiority, and pure unadulterated hatred directed at myself as well as others.

So I suppose that my question really is this:

How do I bring myself to write when my entire being hates me for even trying, knowing that I'll never finish what I start because something will stop me?

Oh friend, this is just some shit right here.

Ok so important disclaimer is that I am not a mental health professional. Anything I say is based on personal experience or accumulated knowledge from the internet.

Its important that you know, and really properly internalize, that you did not fail. In fact my first thing directly related to writing that I would advise you to do, when you start to feel this way, is to say 'I did not fail' to yourself. Sometimes things happen that can't control and they affect us in very serious ways that takes time to get over.

Certainly it sounds like what you were working on was important to you and the circumstances that interrupted it were very upsetting. There's no surprise that your story has becoming a focal point for those feelings. Untangling how they are connected is something that you can only do with time and trying.

If you have a safe place where you can externalize those feelings, either through talking to someone, keeping a journal or writing the events but fictionalized I would suggest those things. Sometimes just being able to put it all out there and know that its safe helps you move on from it.

As far as people on the internet questioning you about where you've been, I can't say that wouldn't have happened or that it won't happen in the future, but as a general rule good, decent people extend you grace. Everyone has a life outside of this anonymous mosh pit we call the internet and most people are capable of understanding that. You don't need to compound these feelings of failure with any additional shame from anonymous strangers. Would they have loved to read your story? Yes of course they would have. If you were to finish it they would still want to read it. But they aren't angry or upset with you.

As you try to write, remind yourself that you have not failed. Imagine yourself as a professional athlete who has suffered a serious knee injury. You had to take time away but you're back on your feet now and you're working towards getting back on the field. Every time you sit and try to write, remind yourself that you have no failed, that you are recovering and that you will get better. Writing will get easier.

Send me as many asks as you want, if they help, I'll do my best to answer them promptly.

Good luck anon and take care of yourself.

[the-haunted-office]

Advice column meme, for Doom: Dear Doomsday. I probably shouldn't waste anyone's time. I am not a confident man. In fact, I'm actually a bit of a doormat. I am trying to work on this, but progress isn't always linear. I'm in the bad habit of letting myself get walked on and putting up with problems or people being rude because 'it could be worse'. I always have trouble speaking up for myself if I do have a problem, always concerned I'm being too sensitive or a burden. I was just wondering if you had any tips for being a better advocate for yourself. Signed. AstronoMoth (probably obvious who this is from, but you know.)

{ My character now has an advice column in a respectable periodical. Ask them advice on anything from romantic conundrums to windmill operation tips! }

Dear Mothman,

First of all, you can start by not apologizing for the space you are occupying and for coming to me to ask for advice and then immediately turning around and claiming you're wasting my time. If you were really sorry for wasting my time, you wouldn't come to me asking for advice in the first place, would you have? But you aren't sorry. Or maybe you are, and you're just that desperate for my advice. Which is it, Mothman? Are you sorry, or aren't you? Shit or get off the pot.

That's the first thing you need to decide about yourself. Do you, or don't you? Do you want to advocate for yourself, or don't you?

If you do, then stop apologizing for shit. Stop it. Right now. You don't have to apologize for existing. You didn't ask to be here. You deserve to be here just as much as anybody else. If anybody has a problem with that for any reason, that's their problem, not yours. Never apologize for that.

If you don't want to advocate for yourself, then I ask again, what are you writing me for? Windmill operation tips? Well, I've got some rather disappointing news for you, Mothman - I said right there on the tin that I didn't have any of that, but you still wrote to me anyway, so either you are remarkably stupid, or... you want to advocate for yourself.

I am in the neighborhood of giving people the benefit of the doubt, so I'm going to assume you want to do the latter, so get to it, Mothman. Advocate for yourself. Stop apologizing for existing. Stop apologizing for everything before you've even gotten around to doing it or asking for it or whatever it is you're doing. Stop apologizing and just DO. You don't owe anybody anything. People's expectations of you are their problems. Don't make them yours.

Chin up, Mothman.

Doomsday

PS: Just because "It could be worse", doesn't mean it has to be. That's another way of saying "I want to be abused" or "I want to suffer". Assuming you don't enjoy either of those things, don't allow yourself to be abused or to suffer simply because someone else who has it worse. That neither helps the other person nor yourself. Things could be worse - but they could also be better, and they should be. Why not?

[mikittalabs]

in a mood right now and i've been playing fire emblem again, recipe for disaster so let's just get on with this post.

anyway it feels like every time an fe fan mentions liking something about engage, it's in spite of it. there's always a "but" tacked on. like you can't really like engage, alear's hair is red and blue and isn't that so dumb!

and i get it, engage is tonally light. it's not about poorly written politics like 3h is. it's great that 3h has a sad line from dorothea a few dozen times and that characters love to talk about how much war sucks every 10 minutes.

it's weird and annoying. every criticism of 3h is fought back against because actually you just missed this single piece of lore from a random npc in ch6 you fucking nincompoop. did you even play the game? the fact every character loves to exposit information at you is actually a good thing and a sign of good writing and doesn't completely muddy up the experience.

meanwhile you have to prove that you actually like engage. and yea. i love engage. i think it's great. i'm gonna talk about things i like because i think the game is good. there is no "but" here.

think a perfect example of this whole "in spite of" thing is yunaka. that's not to say i don't like her, i think she's great, too, but she's also the character who angsts the most out of the cast. her ass is not slick when it comes to hiding her backstory.

naturally, the fandom likes her in spite of engage. like i'm sorry that hortensia is so offputting that you completely missed her story about abusive families and desperately reaching out for something that you can't go back to, and might not have existed in the first place. it's so sucks that celine talked about tea in the 2 supports of hers you got. it sure would be a shame if she's hiding some odd feelings of resentment towards alfred or her cruel tendencies.

sorry guys, supports can't have subtext. if your characters aren't saying exactly what they feel and exactly why all of the time, then it's bad writing. actually subtext is just bad. exposition dumps are where it's at! i loved that part where rhea looked at the camera at the end of verdant wind and told us the entire history of fodlan. or like, the majority of 3h supports.

i forget if i ever posted it but i called 3h characters a vehicle for more lore, and i think i was kinda on to something. engage has a lot of silly supports where characters are just goofing around, but they were never used for more lore in the way 3h uses its cast.

3h supports typically involve someone just telling the other their entire backstory and i'm not about to argue that it isn't giving you more information on a character. in an extremely physical manner, it is. but it's obnoxious. it's an extremely unsubtle way to get across information.

in a very literal manner, you, as the player, are learning about this character. things have in fact happened to them, but i think the crucial difference lies in how this doesn't usually tell you anything about the character as a person. you can draw connections between how they act and their backstory, sure, but what does that actually say about them?

sylvain acts like that because his family fucking sucks. this is true, but he's still acting like a fucking cunt. i understand that crests are so highly valuable in fodlan society that he was objectified and reduced to the fact he had a crest. he says that himself in his support with mercedes. it does not change the fact that he is still a piece of shit to women. contrary to popular belief, i don't think the fact that he's nice to annette changes that fact. also like, mercedes's own backstory is completely glossed over in that support, but that's another conversation for another time.

contrast that with pandreo. he's a silly goofy party guy. there can't be any depth to him because this is engage. except you read his supports and realize he's a deeply faithful man. he found faith when his parents were being The Worst and he parties because it's how he expresses his faith. perhaps you're initial perceptions of a character are not always correct. something you would think fe fans would know considering sylvain has supports where the support partner says something to that effect.

ok i'm starting to get a headache so i'm just calling it here. see you all in hell or however people end these long posts