#these are just the main but the whole cast

[rebouks]

Do you have any recommendations for starting a story? Yours is so good and it really inspires me to try and make one of my own but idk where to start

Hmmm a tough question! I think we all just kinda start and learn as we go? It's the best way tbh.. if you look back at the beginning of most simblr stories they've usually come a long way! Here's a couple tips that I think might be handy tho...

Maybe we could start a thread and everyone could reblog this with their own tips?! 🤩

Decide if you want to build your own lots/sets or not. If you do you'll probs wanna start off with the main places you'll use that're full of personality, like a main characters house or place of work etc. you can always download some neat lots and edit them to your liking if you're not a builder, or maybe even download a whole save file!

Start a character page (or make an intro post for em if you can't be arsed with the technicalities) - not essential but useful for you and the readers to keep track of who's who and maybe state a few facts about them etc.

Start collecting some poses and ideally rename them so they're easy to find! I personally like to add smth like [PETS] or [KISSING] etc to mine (in s4s) in conjunction with twistedmexi's pose finder to make things easier to grab.

If you use reshade/gshade, taking the time to find or create a nice preset will save you a bunch of time editing.

For the love of god if you're gonna make a bunch of extras, try and dress them in maxis clothes/hair.. I'm so SICK of having to redress everyone every time I clear out a bunch of cc skjdksj 🙈 you can always give em an extra, fancy cc outfit for specific scenes on the day but yeah, do yourself a solid where possible to save time/pain in the future. Same goes for lots you don't use often, try and limit the cc you use!

Figure out if you're a planner or not! If you can't manage without a plan it's okay to take some time before starting to figure everything out and get a detailed outline going. If you're more of a pantser (like me!) you can always just get going with a rough idea in mind and see what happens!

If you're gonna go with the flow I'd still recommend creating at least a rough outline, you don't have to stick to it like glue but it'll probs help you stay on track and I wish I'd have done this in the beginning, esp if you're gonna have a plot heavy story.

Characters > plot.. (imo!) like.. you could have a super interesting plot in mind but if no one really knows or cares about your characters it's gonna have a limited impact/amount of interest. They don't even have to be likable lmao

Give your characters some flaws! It's fun and it makes them more relatable.

Start with a small cast - not a complete must but it'll be probably be easier for people to get to know your pixels if they're aren't a million of them right off the bat. You can always add more later.

Try not to shoehorn your characters into situations they wouldn't end up in just to further the plot.. a hard one to explain and mostly based on intuition but if a scene feels boring, out of place or forced, it probably is! aka.. be willing to kill your darlings. Maybe you've already established that your character is poor or smth but have this fun idea of a road trip montage or whatever.. like you can't just give them a car and the money to drive a million miles just cos you HAVE to see that scene y'know? Maybe they're gonna have to hitch hike, get the bus, or take out a loan? Probs a bad example but hopefully you get the idea! It can sometimes be more fun to force your characters into a different situation than you imagined anyway, like maybe they meet someone really neat on the bus and they join the trip, or maybe whoever they borrowed money from gets all pissy when they can't pay em back quick enough etc etc.

Let your characters guide you - sometimes characters talk to us! You could've had a whole storyline planned for them, or a romance of whatever, but when it comes down to it, it just doesn't feel right and that's okay! Let them lead you in a different direction now n' then.

Write for you! (ugh becca stfu with this shit) I know, I know but really.. if you're not having fun, what's the point? Don't write what you think other people want and learn to be okay with cutting ideas/scenes/characters/whatever! that you aren't excited about anymore. It should never feel like a chore to create, and if it starts to feel that way, take a break or change it up!

I feel like this is super rambly and I've missed a million obvious things but my brain is mashed potato rn lmao.. pls feel free to add your own tips in a reblog or a comment - everyone has a different take on things! I think it's really important just to start and see what feels natural tho 🤸‍♀️🧡

[mistresscitrusslice]

Why does the intro end with Jayce and not the sisters?

Pardon my shitty screenshots. I know I already made a post about the weird things in the intro, but there's even more that I didn't include in that post, and most of it is weird as HELL stuff with Jayce. This whole intro sequence has been weird as hell and I love it.

(I'll put it here since I'm not going to mention it later, but Ekko's first scene in the intro has his shadow as a clock ticking counterclockwise and I love it, but I won't talk about it again since we all pretty much know what that means.)

Last season's intro ended with our two lead women at each other's throats. That's no surprise. The whole show is about them. This one, though, ends with Jayce, a supporting member of the main cast. Matter of fact, he shows up a lot in this intro.

In my other post, I mentioned how his scene in the intro is eerily reminiscent of the moment he met Mel (other than the Council trial) when she shined a flashlight in his and Viktor's eyes in the hallway.

Could this be an indicator that he is once again meeting someone new who will change his life forever? Or could it be a reintroduction to someone he already knows? It could easily be Mel again, maybe after she's discovered and learned to control her magic? It seems like she wasn't aware of her powers until now. Considering how much the animators love to compare Mel with Viktor, it could just as easily be Viktor after he's gone full Machine Herald. They've already met again in the commune, but maybe they'll meet again when Viktor is more mechanical and Jayce is more... how do I put it politely... sane.

The light in front of Jayce's hand appears twice more, but something tells me it's a different light. Has the light evolved or is it a different light altogether?

This comes right after Mel on the lounge chair looking at the black rose and right before Viktor putting on the mask (we'll get to that). It is SO much brighter than before, less like a flashlight and more like a spotlight. Jayce's arm is more outstretched, too. It's less reminiscent of the hallway and more reminiscent of the moment he stepped onstage for the Progress Day speech. Bright, burning spotlights that he flinched at. Arm outstretched not only to block the light, but to wave at an audience.

The light and pose when he ends the intro also has these qualities.

I know it's a reach, but nothing is ever fucking reaching with this goddamned show.

So what does this mean?? Is it symbolic of the presence of magic in his life? Once a light in the dark, the path to success -- now burning, all-consuming? Is this another hubris metaphor??? I'm so tired of hubris metaphors. Let Man become God!

Seriously, what do you guys make of this? Because I have no clue. I have negative clues. Everything I see only opens new questions.

Okay, on to the Jayvik amalgam. :D

Who. The fuck. Is this.

Two pics since the camera rotates a bit and idk if the slightly different angle helps at all.

If you look at it from far away, the eyebrow ridge and nose resemble Jayce. If you peer closer, the eyebrow ridge looks more like Viktor's, but the nose still seems like Jayce. This person also looks to be at a healthy weight and has thick thighs, also qualities that Viktor unfortunately does possess. I want to say the hand also looks like Jayce's, but it's hard to tell. The lighting also makes it hard to determine their skin color. All in all, everything about this scene would suggest that the figure is Viktor except for the figure itself.

My gut instinct had me thinking it was Jayce the very first time I saw this intro, but then Viktor showed up with his blanket and mask later in the song and has been in said blanket for most of the show. The lack of purple limbs doesn't mean anything since the sisters also lost their tattoos, Mel lost her gold, and Ekko lost his face paint too.

And then we have this shot. Whose hand is that? NOT FUCKING VIKTOR'S.

That's Jayce's hand putting Viktor's mask on him. The hand looks like it fits naturally on Viktor's arm.

This could mean that Viktor will be wearing his mask because of Jayce. Partly in a "you see me as a villain, so a villain I will be" kind of way, but maybe also in a self-fulfilling time loops sort of way.

It's obvious that we're not supposed to be able to tell Viktor and Jayce apart in this intro. I even saw someone suggest that the animators made a whole new 3D model that was a mix of them both to be able to get the effect across. They might have also made one for Viktor with Jayce's hand.

This is basically saying that Jayce and Viktor are so deeply intertwined that they can't even be told apart. That's really ironic considering how different and divided they are right now. Could this imply that they'll end up back on the same side by the end?

[writingfics-passingtime]

hi, can you please write about the reader overthinking decorating a pumpkin and loki threatens to tickle them if they don't start it 🤗🤗

I can still post pumpkin content cause it's still November, right?

Here's a sassy, stoic reader, an absolute teasing menace Loki, and a tender, emotional ending (because I can't help myself).

word count: ~4300

pairing: Loki x female reader

content / warnings: sexual tension, suggestive banter, flirting and touching, tickling, swearing

minors dni: this work does not contain smut, but does contain a suggestive relationship between the reader and an adult-aged character. I am not comfortable with engagement from anyone under the age of 18. Thank you for your understanding and respect.

note: thank you anon ~ I wasn't going to respond yet because my prompts aren't open, but I've seen a few other writers receive and fulfil this ask, and I've liked seeing what other have done with it. My imagination went a little wild. Thanks for your message x

If anyone has an idea for a title, help a girl out

The room was alive with voices, clinking bottles, and the occasional scrape of a knife against pumpkin flesh. The compound’s main dining hall had been transformed into an unlikely tableau of domesticity. Avengers, gods, and spies bent over their assigned gourds with varying levels of skill and enthusiasm. Stark’s pumpkin already looked like a disaster of glitter and questionable wiring, while Natasha’s had been carved into a clean, menacing grin, a masterpiece of precision.

And then there was you.

Your pumpkin sat pristine and untouched in front of you, its smooth surface mocking your indecision. Brushes, carving tools, and paints were scattered around your space, all conspicuously unused. You held a small knife in your hand, twirling it absently as you stared at the blank canvas.

“Do mortals often find themselves defeated by vegetables, or is this particular weakness unique to you?”

Loki's voice slid over you like velvet, dark and rich, tinged with mockery.

You didn’t look up. “It’s a fruit, actually.”

“Ah,” he drawled, moving closer. “Semantics. How very like you.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw him lean against the edge of the table, his long, lean frame clothed in casual, dark fabrics that clung just enough to remind you that he wasn’t of your world. His sharp blue eyes sparkled with amusement as he surveyed your untouched pumpkin.

“You’ve been staring at it for nearly an hour,” he said, his voice low and teasing. “Surely even you can’t find this much to overthink.”

You exhaled sharply, finally meeting his gaze. “Maybe I’m waiting for inspiration.”

“Or perhaps you’re simply afraid to begin.” His lips curved into a slow, knowing smirk, the kind that made your pulse stumble. “One wrong cut, one poorly chosen stroke, and the whole thing could be ruined. What a tragic metaphor for your careful, overthought life.”

“Thanks for the analysis, Freud,” you said dryly, turning your attention back to the pumpkin. “Now, if you’re done, I have work to do.”

“Work?” His laugh was quiet, mocking. He moved closer, the faint rustle of his clothing brushing against your senses like a whisper. “Sitting frozen with indecision isn’t work, darling. It’s fear.”

You bristled but kept your voice calm. “If you’re so invested in this pumpkin, why don’t you decorate it yourself?”

“Because I find your quandary far more entertaining.”

He stepped around behind you then, his tall frame casting a shadow over your seat. His presence loomed, a magnetic pull you both resented and couldn’t entirely resist.

“I’ll give you a choice,” he said softly, his voice close now, the faintest trace of his breath against your ear. “Either you begin decorating this ridiculous fruit, or I’ll take matters into my own hands.”

You turned slightly, meeting his eyes over your shoulder. They gleamed with dark amusement, his smirk widening as he caught the way your lips parted involuntarily. “Oh? And how exactly would you do that?”

Loki’s smirk deepened, his gaze dropping briefly to your lips before returning to your eyes. “I could start with this.”

Before you could react, his fingers brushed against your sides, featherlight but enough to send a jolt through you. You stiffened, gripping the edge of the table as his touch lingered, just shy of maddening.

You twisted in your chair to glare at him. “That’s your plan? Tickle me into submission? How original.”

His chuckle was low, dark, a sound that sent a shiver up your spine. “Oh, I think it would be quite effective. And besides,” he murmured, leaning closer, “I suspect you’d secretly enjoy it.”

Your breath caught at the sheer audacity of him, the way his voice dipped into something so sultry, so intimate, that your stomach twisted. “Sounds like you're desperate for an excuse to touch me,” you shot back, your tone sharp despite the heat rising in your cheeks.

He tilted his head, his smirk softening into something more dangerous, more deliberate. “Desperate? No, darling. Just curious.”

His gaze swept over you, slow and deliberate, as if he could see straight through you to the rapid beat of your heart.

The air between you seemed to thicken, the tension coiling taut as his words hung there, daring you to respond.

Your grip on the table tightened as you forced yourself to meet his eyes, even as heat coiled low in your stomach.

It felt like gripping the steering wheel of a car spinning out, but you snapped the moment.

“You’re not as intimidating as you think you are."

Loki laughed, soft and wicked. “Of course not. And you're the picture of composure, as always."

His hand brushed against yours then, the faintest graze of his fingertips, and you swore the room tilted.

“Go on,” he urged, his voice a low murmur, his eyes locked on yours. “Prove me wrong. Pick up the brush. Start decorating. Show me you're not afraid of a little fun.”

You hesitated, your heart pounding so loudly you were certain he could hear it. The weight of his gaze, the dark amusement in his smirk, the sheer magnetic pull of him it was... intoxicating.

Finally, with a sharp exhale, you grabbed the brush. “Fine,” you said, your voice tight as you dipped it into the paint.

Loki straightened, his smirk triumphant but his eyes still glinting with wicked intent. “There’s a good girl,” he said softly, the words like a caress against your ear.

It left you burning long after he’d stepped away.

As you focused on the paint in front of you, doing your best to ignore the heat coursing through your veins, you felt the thrill of his words linger.

The brush hovered over the pumpkin, the orange, unsullied skin glaring up at you like a taunt. Loki had retreated to the far end of the room, his fingers tracing idle patterns on the edge of the table as he spoke with Thor. You knew it was only a matter of time before his attention flickered back to you, the heat of a flame too close for comfort.

You had no intention of giving him the satisfaction of seeing you squirm under his gaze any longer.

Sliding the brush down as quietly as possible, you rose from your seat. The soft scrape of your chair legs across the floor was muffled beneath the ambient chatter of the room, and Loki didn’t so much as glance your way. Your pulse quickened as you edged toward the door, heart hammering with every step.

He didn’t follow.

Once you’d slipped into the quiet of the hall, the tension in your chest eased, and you let out a breath you were very aware you'd been holding.

You made your way toward the compound’s library, the solitude of it a welcome balm. The others would still be occupied for at least another hour - enough time for you to lose yourself in the pages of your book and avoid whatever game Loki had been playing that almost made you crack.

The library greeted you with its familiar quiet, the scent of leather sofas and paper a comforting presence. You found your usual spot tucked away in a far corner, a large bay window cushioned with soft pillows overlooking the courtyard. Settling in with a contented sigh, you pulled your book from where you'd wedged it between the seat cushion and the wooden frame.

The story drew you in almost immediately, the tension of moments ago dissolving into the words on the page. The sunlight filtering through the window began softening into twilight, painting the room in hues of amber and shadow.

The quiet here was sacred, untouched by the chaos of the compound. As you turned the last few pages, your chest loosened, the illusion of safety creeping in.

Surely, he hadn’t followed you. Surely, Loki had other things to occupy himself-

Surely not.

“I expected better from you.”

The voice slithered into your ears, so low and sudden that your breath caught in your throat. With all your years of training, you managed to stay frozen. Futile, though. You knew he could see right through it.

You looked up, and there he stood, shadowed and immaculate, his silhouette framed by the dim glow of a single, golden lamp. His icy blue eyes glinted with cruel amusement, his lips curling into a smirk that made your stomach twist.

“How... predictable,” he continued, taking a slow, deliberate step forward. “You flee like a rabbit, thinking you can burrow away from the wolf.”

Your heart hammered against your ribs, but you forced yourself turn back your book. “I don’t recall fleeing,” you started, turning a page. “I walked out, actually. Perhaps you’ve forgotten the difference in your old age.”

He chuckled, the sound low and dangerous, like distant thunder rolling over jagged peaks. “Ah, there it is. That fire you wear like armour. Does it soothe you to pretend you’re unshakeable?”

You scoffed, even as your pulse betrayed you. “You’re awfully sure of yourself for someone whose only hobby seems to be tormenting me.”

“Torment?” he echoed, his voice silken as he closed more distance between you. “My dear, if I were tormenting you, you’d know it. Shall I demonstrate?”

You didn’t dignify that with a response, instead turning another page of your book. The words blurred before your eyes, but you kept your expression neutral. “If you think I’m going to feed your ego by reacting, you’re going to be sorely disappointed.”

"Why did you refuse to take part?" There was something unnervingly earnest in his voice that pulled at your heart. "Why did you leave?"

You looked up, wearing a mask of indifference and sarcasm. “I didn’t realise decorating pumpkins was a matter of state importance.”

The smirk tugging at his lips was slow and predatory, dark amusement glinting in his eyes. “Such sharp words, little rabbit. Always so quick with your tongue when your heart’s trying to claw its way out of your chest.”

Your pulse spiked, but you refused to let him see it. Instead, you tilted your head, letting a slow, sardonic smirk curve your lips. “You said you weren't desperate, Loki. But you seem to have taken to taunting me for sport."

The laugh that slipped from him was low and sinuous, curling like smoke through the still air. “Oh, I don’t need sport to occupy me. But you…” He leaned forward, the space between you vanishing in an instant. “You’re far too entertaining to resist. Especially when you’re trembling behind that mask of yours.”

“I’m not trembling.”

“No?” His voice was a purr now, his breath brushing your ear as he lowered himself just enough to meet you at eye level. “I suppose you weren’t squirming earlier, either. Like prey in my hands.”

Your cheeks flared with heat, but you kept your expression neutral. “You sound obsessed.”

“And you sound very ticklish.”

The way he said it - smooth, dark, laced with that damned smirk -sent a ripple of mortification through you. It was all the confirmation you needed of his intentions to follow through on his earlier threat.

It was inevitable.

So you leaned back, lifting your book as if to shield yourself from the weight of his gaze. If you were going down, you were going down swinging. Well, verbally, at least.

“You’re overplaying your hand.”

“Oh, am I?” He stood to his full height, towering over you now, his shadow eclipsing the faint light. “Because the ones who act so tough, so stoic, so unbothered... they’re always the most fun. It’s so very delicious to watch them fall apart.”

“Is that what you tell yourself at night?” You forced your tone into something light, dismissive, though your grip on the book tightened. “That you’ve got me figured out?”

His smirk deepened, his head tilting as he studied you like a puzzle he already knew how to solve. “I don’t need to tell myself anything. You do all the work for me.”

Your lips parted for a retort, but his eyes flickered down to the slight tremor in your fingers, the way your knees shifted restlessly against the cushions.

And you saw how his smile widened, satisfied and predatory, when he saw all the hallmarks of someone about to flee.

“Go ahead,” he murmured, voice dropping to a velvet whisper. “Run. It’ll be more fun for me.”

For a split second, you froze, torn between logic and instinct. Then you bolted, your book tumbling to the seat as you darted for the nearest gap.

But Loki was faster.

You didn't make it two full steps before he caught you with a preternatural ease, his ensnaring hands dragging you back against him in one smooth motion. His low chuckle brushed your ear as he manoeuvred you down onto the window seat, half-pinning you on your side with his arms wrapped firmly around your waist.

“Pitiful,” he drawled, his tone rich with mockery. “And here I thought you’d make it a challenge.”

You shoved at him, scowling. “Let me go, you overgrown-”

Whatever venom you’d prepared was shattered as his fingers pressed into your ribs, curling with precision against the fabric of your sweater. Laughter burst from you, loud and uncontrollable, and you immediately clamped your lips shut, mortified by the sound.

“Ah,” Loki purred, his grin widening. “There it is. That lovely sound you try so hard to keep from the world. Go on, darling. Let me hear it again.”

“Loki, wait- no!” you gasped, but his hands had already found the curve of your waist, his fingers pinching with precision that felt criminal.

“No?” he echoed, mockingly incredulous. “You were so calm a moment ago. What happened?”

He didn’t give you a chance to answer. His hands slipped beneath the hem of your sweater, squeezing tighter, his nails grazing the bare skin of your sides. You quaked at the contact, laughter spilling out uncontrollably as he found every sensitive spot with uncanny accuracy. Your hands clutched at his forearms, his chuckle hot and tempting against your neck as your head fell back in mirth.

“Tell me the truth,” he said, his voice low and commanding, the words a dark melody against your ear. “Why did you run?”

“I- I...” you wheezed, twisting in his hold, going nowhere. With a ferocious, defiant growl, you yelled, "I... walked!"

Loki paused, his lips curling in that knowing smirk, and then he tickled harder, digging in with precision. You crumpled back against him, laughing helplessly, unable to catch your breath. Every sound that left your mouth was a mix of laughter and helpless gasps, each one a surrender to him, to the unrelenting tickling.

“Let's try again,” Loki commanded, his voice low, his breath warm against your ear. “Tell me why you fled.”

You struggled to pull yourself together, trying to come up with another witty retort, but before you could speak, Loki found an especially sensitive spot, just under your ribs, and his fingers locked in with a brutal efficiency. You shrieked, squirming beneath him, but he held you there with the effortless force of a god, his smile widening against the shell of your ear.

You thrashed harder, your laughter raw and breaking, tears welling in your eyes. “I’ll- kill you-”

“You’ll what?” He laughed, low and dark, his fingers picking up speed again, pressing and kneading with wicked precision. Every stroke of his hands felt like it was designed to unravel you, to push you past your limits and then some.

The realisation hit like a blow: he could read you. Every shudder, every hitch in your breath, every twitch of your body. And worse, he was enjoying it, adjusting his touch with the kind of skill that only centuries of mischief could hone. His hands didn’t just tickle; they teased, tormented, mastered you.

"You- oh my g-" you gasped, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. "You absolute fucking-"

“Such language,” he chided, his tone a tease of disapproval. “And after I’ve been so gentle.”

His fingers danced lower, teasing the curve of your hips, and the laugh that escaped you was so deep, so raw, it left your chest aching. Loki stilled for half a heartbeat, his grin sharp as he took in the sound, before redoubling his efforts. He pressed his thumbs into the tender space just above your hipbones, his fingers curling to squeeze in a way that had you screaming, your body writhing in his iron grip.

“Okay! Okay!” you gasped, tears of mirth welling in your eyes.

“Speak, then,” he commanded in low and silken voice, his fingers unrelenting. “And don’t lie to me. You won’t like the consequences.”

“I—” You hesitated, your breath hitching, but he gave you no mercy. His nails dragged lightly over your ribs, and the sound that tore from you was half a laugh, half a desperate gasp.

“Speak."

“I didn’t want to embarrass myself!” you finally choked out, your body trembling beneath his. “I didn’t want to make something stupid and have everyone see how bad it is!”

Immediately, his hands stilled, and you gulped in a shuddering breath. He unwrapped his arms from around you and leaned back, his smirk softening into something almost... fond. You shoved at him weakly, as if not quite believing he was retreating.

“Well,” he said, standing and staring down at you, admiring his handiwork, “you’ve certainly made a spectacle of yourself now.”

You glared at him, flushed and breathless. “You... are insufferable.”

“And you,” he countered, his grin returning, “are utterly fascinating. Shall we?”

Before you could protest, he hooked his arms under your knees and around your back, sweeping you up effortlessly, carrying you toward the door. You squirmed in his grasp.

“What the hell are you doing now?”

“Delivering you back to the battlefield,” he said, his smirk a knife’s edge. “You’re not escaping that easily. You’ve still got a pumpkin to ruin, and I, for one, am thoroughly invested in the spectacle.”

You groaned, your head falling back in defeat. "I hate you."

The smirk in his voice was undeniable. "No, you don't."

The dining hall was no longer the lively scene it had been earlier.

Now, it was deserted, shadows stretching long and dark across the room, flickering with the faint light of a few dying candles. The scent of melted wax and pumpkin guts permeated in the air, and the silence was nearly oppressive.

Loki carried you inside, his grip firm but not unkind, and though you didn’t resist, you couldn’t help but feel a smouldering irritation at the way he seemed to enjoy this small victory. When he set you down, his hands lingered at your waist, steadying you, as though daring you to bolt again.

You stepped forward, stopping just shy of your untouched pumpkin. Its smooth, orange surface gleamed in the low light, mocking you. The tools remained where you’d left them, and the weight of your earlier frustration pressed at the edges of your mind.

“I... don’t know what to do with it,” you said finally, turning back to Loki. You hated how the admission sounded - small, almost defeated - but there was no taking it back now.

Loki’s sharp gaze softened imperceptibly. His lips twitched, but the smirk didn’t fully form. “Then I shall help you,” he said, his voice low and smooth, offering no room for argument.

Before you could respond, he sat in your chair with that infuriating ease, his presence commanding even in the simplest of movements. His eyes met yours, glittering with a mixture of challenge and amusement, and he reached out a hand, curling his fingers in a silent demand.

“What are you-” The words barely left your mouth before you realised he was beckoning you to sit on his lap. Heat flushed through you, unbidden, and you scoffed, trying to mask it. “You do realise chairs are meant for one person, don’t you?”

Yet, unwilling to have him see how he was sliding under your skin, you turned and settled yourself against him. His muscled chest brushed against your back, his legs firm and solid as your seat.

“And yet, here we are,” he murmured, his lips brushing your ear as he spoke. His hand settled at your waist - an anchor, not a cage. “Now, let’s see if we can salvage your poor, neglected pumpkin.”

You scoffed, grabbing the carving tool. “Fine. Show me your masterful technique, Your Highness.”

The title came out sharper than intended, but Loki only chuckled, low and indulgent. He leaned closer, his shadow engulfing yours, and reached around your shoulder to guide your hand. His fingers slid over yours, his grip firm but not harsh. “Relax,” he murmured. His voice sent a delicious shiver down your spine. “You grip it like a weapon. This is art, not war.”

You bit back a retort and let him guide you. His body was close enough that his every movement brushed against yours, his breath warm against your cheek. Together, you began to carve into the pumpkin, slow and deliberate. His free hand flexed against your waist, your free hand steadying the canvas.

As the shapes emerged, you realised they weren’t ordinary designs. They were runes.

Norse runes. Delicate, intricate, and entirely unreadable to you.

Loki worked with a confidence that bordered on arrogance, his hand steady as he traced the lines with your hand.

“What does it say?” you asked eventually, breaking the silence.

He didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he leaned closer, his breath warm against your neck as he murmured, “You’ll see. Keep holding it steady."

The tension between you grew with every passing second. His touch lingered long, his presence close. Every shift of his body beneath yours was impossible to ignore, every brush of his breath against your skin a reminder of just how thin the line between teasing and something real had become.

When the carving was done, you slipped off his lap, feeling the need for a the brief moment of distance for your sanity, and retrieved a candle from the sideboard.

But the room felt colder without him holding you.

You lit the wick and placed the candle inside the pumpkin, watching as the light filled the carved runes, casting jagged shadows across the table.

You turned back to Loki. His expression was unreadable, his gaze fixed on you as though he could see straight through to your very thoughts.

Carefully, you sat back down on his lap, unable to ignore the magnetic pull he seemed to have on you. This time, you sat side-on. His hands settled instinctively, one on your back, one on your knee, holding you steady. With his height, your faces were almost level, but you still had to look ever so slightly up.

“What does it say?” you asked again, your voice quieter now, as if speaking too loudly might shatter whatever fragile thing had formed between you.

“The name of a great warrior,” he said, his tone mockingly reverent. “Renowned for wit, skill, and unmatched beauty.”

You arched a brow, your lips twitching. “Let me guess. Your name?”

His grin widened, and the silence was answer enough for you.

You rolled your eyes, but a genuine smile tugged at your lips despite yourself. “You’re unbelievable.”

“Yet undeniably fascinating,” he countered, his voice a low purr. His gaze dropped to your lips, and his smirk faltered, replaced with something quieter, more tender. Relieved. "There it is." His words were almost a sigh.

You tilted your head, raising a brow in question.

“I was beginning to fear you didn’t know how to smile.”

The intimacy of his words rendered you speechless for several, long seconds. Your mind faltered, your fingers fidgeting in your lap.

“What? You don't remember what happened like... twenty minutes ago? I recall laughing to the point of tears, thanks to you.”

“That was different,” he said simply, his tone quieter, earnest.

The air between you thickened, heavy with unspoken things. His hand moved in slow, deliberate patterns against your back. “It must be exhausting,” he said after a moment, his voice gentle and laced with something that sounded dangerously close to sympathy. “Always bracing for the next crisis.”

His sudden sincerity caught you off-guard. You fidgeted with your hands, stained with pumpkin pulp, your gaze dropping to your lap. “It’s not like that,” you muttered, though the words felt hollow.

“Isn’t it?” His hand stilled on your back for a moment before continuing its slow, soothing movements. “You are allowed moments of meaningless joy. To partake in frivolity. It doesn’t make you weak.”

A bitter laugh escaped you, soft and humourless. “I take it you didn’t buy that I was embarrassed about the pumpkin?”

He tilted his head, his lips curving into a faint smirk. “Not for a second.”

You looked up, straight into him. "But you let me go."

His gaze fell to your lips, as if he were already missing your smile. Mourning it. Plotting a witty remark or flirtatious comment that might see its return.

He then looked back to your eyes, swallowing harder than usual, his voice now gentle. “I thought you were due for some mercy. You... seem to have very little for yourself.”

The words settled over you like a weight, heavy and undeniable.

And for a moment, you couldn’t breathe.

"It feels wrong," you admitted in little over a whisper. "To... do things like this when so many people-" The breath caught in your throat and you had to look back at your hands, sniffing to buy some time. "It's selfish. Carving pumpkins. Decorating. Laughing at stupid things. People are out there suffering, and I’m here playing holiday games. Safe.”

Loki was quiet for a long moment, his hand resuming its slow, deliberate movements along your back. It brought you far more comfort than you'd ever admit out loud. Not yet, at least.

When he finally spoke, his voice was soft, the usual sharp edges dulled. “You cannot bear the weight of your world every hour of every day. Even the strongest flame falters if it is not tended.”

The rawness of his words cut through your defences. You couldn’t meet his eyes, but your lips twitched as you tried to deflect. “You know,” you muttered, half-laughing as your head dipped, “getting tickled to death felt a lot less exposing than this conversation.”

His chest vibrated with a low chuckle, and when you glanced up, his smirk had returned, a glimmer of mischief in his eyes. “I’m happy to oblige,” he drawled, his fingers curling against you as if preparing to pounce.

You shot him a warning look, though you couldn’t quite keep the corner of your mouth from twitching. “You wouldn't.”

“Oh, wouldn't I?” he teased, his hands still hovering ominously close.

"No," you shook your head, that twitch turning into a smirk. "I sat with you of my own free will. Trusting you. You won't jeopardise that."

The playful glint in his gaze softened slightly as he settled back, studying you with a quiet intensity. "The little rabbit may just be a fox after all," he mused, ceding his advantage.

He studied you for a good, long while, you both sitting in a comfortable silence as he traced idle patterns against your back, his thumb brushing your knee.

Finally, you swallowed your nerves, and broke the silence. "Thank you. For your help.”

You looked back to the table, eyes roaming over what he'd carved with your hand;

The name of a great warrior. He'd said. Renowned for wit, skill, and unmatched beauty.

"Runes are... actually quite beautiful."

He hummed softly in agreement.

You turned your head slightly, eyes still on the sharp lines. "What would my name look like?"

Then, you looked up at his face, and your breath caught.

His eyes were alight, faintly glittering from the flickering candle inside the artwork. Something between a smile and something far more satisfied curled onto his lips as he nodded at the runes.

"Exactly like that."

[yourloveaton]

Hi! I saw all your AU art just recently and noticed you were saying we can ask you about it! (ITS SUCH AWESOME ART BTW I ADORE IT THE WAY YOU DRAW THEM IS AKAKAKKDMSMAMD!!!!)

I don’t have a specific question, but I do want to know more about it.

So can you just tell me anything about it?

Ahhh THANK YOU SO MUCH !!! I’m so happy that you liked my au art and wanna know more about it !! You have no idea how much joy that makes me feel 🥹💖

Well I can tell you some info and facts about the au, how I’m planning to develop it and all that !! It’s still fairly new and I did it out of nowhere at 3 am in the morning because I thought of my old ideas that I had years ago when undertale was on it’s prime but I was too young to bring ideas to life properly HAHAHA I hope my writing doesn’t bore you!

The au is pretty much founded on the idea of what if Sans also used to be a royal guard when he was younger? Boom. That’s where it spiralled and now I don’t know how revert back to who I was before because I ended up doodling a lot of undertale stuff along with the au, it didn’t help with the fact that my very good beloved friend kept encouraging me and feeding my inner demons of my undertale brainrot HAHAHA

I’m planning to develop the au into 2 parts: Before Undertale and after Undertale.

Before undertale is basically the events that happened before the plot of Undertale took place while after undertale is when they’re finally on the surface and the events that will happen on there! Sounds very generic and common I know, that’s why I’m going to try and develop it to be a bit different and hope that the au is not boring or developed horribly :’D It will take some time though since I know developing an au with a unique plot is gonna be very challenging, there are so many ways to mess it up and aghhh I really don’t wanna mess it up TT

Here are the main cast of the before undertale, this is a very OLD sketch that I made to figure out who’s there and how old they would be before I proceed to develop on the characters. So their heights might not be as accurate as it is in the sketch.

Also DISCLAIMER, Alphys and Undyne never met in before Undertale, so just know there’s no weird agenda going on here! They first met during Undertale plot when they’re both adults (Alphys 29, Undyne 23) so it’s all good!! I thought I needed to point that out because the age gap might seem alarming at first glance knowing they’re officially a couple 🙏 The before undertale plot begins at the age displayed on the sketch, and it ends after uhh.. 10 years? Yeah it’s ten years of events before the main undertale story starts!

I do want to portray the skele family with wholesome moments and you know, how great they are! Well that is before the downfall but we ain’t talking about that for now !! They’re just so beloved to me and I know they were such a sweet family AND WOULD HAVE VERY FUNNY MOMENTS IN WHICH I WANNA DRAW IT OUT!! So yeah, stay tuned for silly mini comics of them eheh

At first, I wanted Trickster (yes I’m calling his royal guard nickname, it’s like a whole different persona of his (alter ego???) where he’s energetic and acts very silly, whimsical, presenting puzzles and quizzes to his opponents sometimes but also can be very intimidating and prove that yeah, there’s a reason why he can be like that cuz it’s HIM) to be nothing more than a mischievous silly royal guard that wanted to keep causing trouble for Gaster but then it grew to be a bigger thing where he unintentionally became the symbol of hope and an entertainer for the whole underground before Trickster disappeared without a trace(?)

I’m still working on this whole concept so not everything is settled yet!! Well what I can also say about Trickster is that Alphys might be involved with the whole Trickster business too eheh

I’ve been practicing on drawing the characters so that I can draw better for this little au project of mine, I hope I can share my progress with you guys as things go on !!!

That’s the general stuff I’ve thought of so far, I hope you enjoy reading ! Thank you for reading and do feel free to ask whenever you have questions about the au or anything else :D✨✨✨✨

[sufferu]

Your fantastic writing skills gave me angst I demand compensation. Lol. You gave me a lot to think about and I have to say, in my nearly 9 years of being an avid fanfic reader. A writer never made me THIS invested.

After being abandoned by everyone, do you think subaru will go to Priscilla? She was the only one who saw his side.

I have to say tho I get Subaru's side more. He can't control RBD. If anyone had the power to bring back loved ones they would. I'm sure Ferris wouldn't hesitate to save crush. I think everybody is so upset that they tunnel visioned and didn't do right by him. Everything is outside of his control. He doesn't choose to come back. But he is, so he tries to save more people everytime.

Subaru obviously has issues. And I don't like the way the re zero narrative punishes him for using RBD. Meanwhile, Al is over here spaming reset with no consequences.

The world hates Subaru and the rest of the cast blame him. He is trying harder then ANYONE to LIVE, but they call him a suicidal monster.

I’m so glad that you’re enjoying my fic! That is some high praise right there, lol: I do hope to meet those expectations going forward ;)

Though I will say…I am approaching this from a slightly different angle. For starters — this will be a lot clearer in the actual chapter than it was in this ficlet, but Arc 5 does not go the same way it does in canon, hence how Subaru managed to save EVERYONE and capture/kill literally every attacking Archbishop in Priestella. This is the main reason why everyone is so angry and devastated. If it were canon Arc 5, things might have gone differently. …Then again, Arc 8 DOES exist. So maybe we would have ended up in this situation someday regardless.

But also…well.

Return By Death isn’t JUST a powerful ability that Subaru has access to: it is the epitome of weaponized self-destruction, in which he can literally sacrifice himself over and over again for the sake of those around him whether they like it or not. He is fully capable of taking all their pain on himself, of placing himself in unimaginably horrible situations on other people’s behalf, and doing it for…maybe even all of eternity, depending on how things go. If you’ve ever read The Ones Who Walk Away From Omelas by Ursula K Le Guin — Subaru has the potential to basically become That for the entirety of Lugunica. And even worse: if he’s employed as a knight, it is arguably his sworn duty to do exactly that, because a knight is a profession in which one lays down their life for the people they want to protect. What does that turn into when the knight can do that again and again, indefinitely?

The cast of Re:Zero shows every sign that they would absolutely fucking hate the idea of being reliant on something that disgusting. Julius sacrifices his reputation to try and keep Subaru alive, Tivey and Hetaro declare that throwing away one’s life for a cause is a fucking joke, Ferris has this whole thing about valuing life to the point where just a hint of Subaru being suicidal sends him into an actual nervous breakdown, Vincent is raked through the coals for his attempt to sacrifice himself for his country just that one time by both the narrative and the people around him, Arc 4 exists — there’s A Lot that points to most of these characters finding the idea of this cycle of repeated sacrifice bring just AWFUL, and even to the idea that they’d actively take offense to someone attempting to do such a thing on their behalf.

There is one exception to this rule, however, and that is Priscilla Barielle — who actively praises subjects that sacrifice themselves for her, who forces Aldebaran to reset whenever he does something she doesn’t like, who praised Subaru as a brilliant knight when he was (narratively speaking) at his very worst, who symbolizes the mechanisms of fate itself, who’s final moment involved her sacrificing herself for her homeland, and who is in every way the pinnacle of the Sword Wolf that Vollachia praises as the ideal subject (VOLLACHIA, mind you, which is a nation that has the whole Muspel contract going on). Priscilla is an actual monster, an awful personality, and the antithesis of the themes of Re:Zero. So her siding with Subaru in this instance is — completely in character, but it’s one of the most damning things I feel I could have done.

(I am glad that someone was able to actually connect with her though — was afraid that I made her too cartoonishly evil lmao)

As for what’s happening to Subaru now…well, you’re right about the end of that duel being the rock bottom of his character’s state in this fic. But — just because he was fired from his post doesn’t mean he’s being ABANDONED. They can’t afford to abandon a time traveler to be left to his own devices, first of all. But also, even in they’re all Very Angry with him right now…all these people still love him an awful lot. There’s a reason Wilhelm decided to duel him for the position and take the blame for his removal all upon himself, instead of doing something that would leave Subaru more at the mercy of public opinion. And there’s a reason Crusch’s idea of “suicide watch” was basically, “Hey, Wilhelm, do you want a new grandchild?” instead of something like “Let’s imprison him in the catacombs of the Kingdom.” They DO care about him. That’s the problem.

[physalian]

Quick little addition for short-term side characters:

I just finished a book trilogy with a ton of side characters, all with unique and unfamiliar names, and 99% of them fantasy military in some capacity. On top of them, there were lords, politicians, servants, and other supporting characters.

Outside of the few legacy characters from the first book who had specific arcs and important moments, everybody else, all the other named soldiers all blended together in a mush. They had their moments, sure, but for the most part acted as part of a larger unit and were not distinct enough on their own (especially with a cast of 99% men) to be particularly memorable. They all used the same weapons, did the same job, and had much of the same opinions about the war they were fighting.

They did not have: Anecdotes about the homes and families they were missing, aspirations beyond the war they were fighting, fears expressed to confidants, funny little oopsie moments, notable jesting nicknames. Absolutely necessary? Nope, but then, I remember nothing about these individuals.

Visual mediums do make it easier to tell characters apart, yes, but compared to three whole books, a single movie like Saving Private Ryan had a cast of I think 8(??) main soldiers. Being a Spielberg movie at the height of his career, everybody was memorable, everybody had at least one disctinct trait about them, everbody got at least one Character Moment that made them human. Several also had a specific role in their unit, or for the story. A sniper, a medic, a translator, the captain. Or, the cynic, the bully, the realist, the scared recruit, the homesick barely-adult cadet.

Even if you don't remember their names, you are not lost in the big battles forgetting who's where doing what and who's already dead, when they're all wearing the same uniforms with grime and muck obscuring their faces, and most importantly, you care when they all slowly die one by one.

So if even if you're writing a supporting cast that aren't meant to be there for the long haul of multiple books or seasons I implore you: If you don't take the time to make them human, I can't get invested in what should be a human story and I will not give a damn about them or rember what they did when the book ends.

Solid post OP!

Writing Compelling Side Characters

**NOTE: Some of these tips don't really apply to ensemble casts, where there are multiple Main Characters (plural).

1) Agency - motivations, actions, effects

Technically, they ARE side characters in your MC's story, but don't base your writing on that fact.

Side characters need:

Their own REASONS for joining the story (because they want to, not because the PLOT wanted them to) Example: In Arcane, Caitlyn inadvertently gets involved with Vi due to her compassion and desire to help the undercity, not because the plot needs a love interest

A GOAL, on which they act INDEPENDENT of the plot, and actually affects your MC/the main plot (not the other way around) Example: In Loki, Sylvie's independent goal is to take down the TVA, and her actions reveal the TVA's corruption to Loki, influencing him to join her in fighting against the TVA instead of working for them

A STAKE in how things end (e.g. someone getting paid after agreeing to join a heist); they aren't just in it to be a "comic relief" or a "damsel in distress" Example: In Breaking Bad, Jesse joins Walt in cooking meth because he makes BANK from selling drugs, not because Walt needed a funny and traumatized sidekick

Their own RELATIONSHIPS with other characters, aside from the MC—they have their own friends, enemies, love interests, etc., and these relationships can completely change the plot Example: In the original Percy Jackson series, all of the side characters (e.g. Annabeth, Nico, Thalia, Luke, etc.) have their own relationships with each other that greatly affect the plot. Check it out: Annabeth's attachment to Luke, even after he became evil, completely changed the plot in several ways: kickstarting a journey to save her from Luke in The Titan's Curse, revealing his true evil identity as a vessel for Kronos (big bad!) in The Battle of the Labyrinth, and mainly contributing towards Luke's reversion away from evil in the last book due to him remembering his promise to take care of her a long time ago, etc.

Their own PAST that affects how they act, move forward, and how they treat the MC Example: In Avatar: The Last Airbender, Azula's pressure on herself and desire for perfection is greatly driven by her father's expectations of her as the fire-bending prodigy, resulting in a childhood of earning parental love and care AFTER she proves her worth to him. This created a mentality ceaselessly focused on her goals—which are usually her father's missions—causing her to be deadly, manipulative, and constantly causing problems for the main character.

The side character is not an extension or byproduct of the MC's plot; their own story happens to collide and intertwine with your MC's plot, but is ultimately independently driven.

2) Affecting the ending

The story can't have reached the same ending regardless of the side characters' existence. They must be necessary to the MC in helping them reach their goal faster, more prepared, etc. For example, in Avatar, Aang would not have been able to reach his goal of defeating the fire lord without the help of his friends, who each taught him valuable life lessons as well as combat skills.

Each character must have an independent impact on the MC—don't treat them like a group (e.g. "the side characters," who are one individual collective). Arcane does a great job with this, as each side character has a completely different impact on the MCs (e.g. Silco, Ekko, Caitlyn, and Vi—not a side character but for the purpose of this analysis, bear with me—all have a different impact on Jinx). It isn't just a literal impact. It's what the MC learns, and the theme of the story. They should help the MC realize things about themselves, and contextualize the MC by showing them in different situations with different people.

3) Avoid stereotypes Don't create characters from moulds and conform 100% to the trope: e.g. the "comic relief" can also be "the outlaw/rebel" or the "love interest," the "brooding antihero" can also be the "caregiver" or the "wise one," the "seductive girl" can also be the "science nerd" or the "broken optimist," etc. Mix and match. Everyone has more than 1 personality trait in real life, and probably fulfils more than 1 role to the other people in their lives. Give them intersecting personality traits to flesh them out.

4) Theme and Arc Especially compelling side characters have their own arc and embody their own theme.

Example 1: Mr. Darcy in Pride and Prejudice is more than the brooding love interest—he develops by being less arrogant and learning to see people beyond their social status, and opens up to new ideas, people, and situations.

Example 2: Nico di Angelo from the Percy Jackson series goes on a journey of self-acceptance and embracing his identity, instead of just being the stereotypical emo kid who is constantly in a state of angst.

Example 3: In Arcane, Silco goes from a ruthless crime lord who believes that attachment is weakness, to someone who genuinely cares about his adoptive daughter, so much so that he can't give her up even in exchange for his lifelong dream.

∘₊✧────── ☾☼☽ ──────✧₊∘

instagram: @ grace_should_write

Hope this was helpful, and let me know if you have any questions by commenting, re-blogging, or DMing me on IG. Any and all engagement is appreciated :)

Happy writing, and have a great day!

- grace <3

[stuckasmain]

So I’m reading Jurassic Park for the first time and … the movie was perfectly casted oh my god. I can’t help but picture them all when I read because when I tell you they captured the energy so well, I mean it.

Also something about Alan and Ellie meeting Ian and “we’re a trio now. Besties forever” the second they meet is iconic. The squad ever actually.

[faeriekit]

I think Alfred needs his own prompt 👻(dp x dc)

Alfred had died.

(It was a bit of a waste of time— he'd been scheduled to get the boys to and from their suit fitting at this time. Now here he was; languishing. Murdered. Sulking, even.)

(How frivolous.)

As a busy man with children (an adult child) to care for, a house to maintain, and a budget to supervise, Alfred's main goal was to return to Earth, obviously. If he left Master Bruce in charge of the dusting, the man would absolutely let the unused parts of the house go into disrepair. Too impatient, his ex-ward was.

The only problem was that in this green, nebulous, and gravity-free afterlife, there seemed to be only one way out— navigating through the individual worlds that the denizens of this world have molded around themselves, until he finds a being willing to grant his wish to return.

Alfred sighed, checked for the pistol at his hip and the rifle on his back, and marched straight upwards. Or. Well. Downwards. Actually... Never mind.

[cowardlykrow]

Don't even look at each other before marriage

[meowie17]

Ok so I have a few suggestions but for the sake of space those will be under the cut

Putting it shortly I’d recommend Scar or Doc possibly Ren.

As a season seven sucker I’d normally recommend Scar due his role as the mayor of the shopping district and head of Hep in that season, plus the whole mycelium resistance thing cast him as the villain when looking from the resistance side.

But sense you’ve already got him as a character you could go for Ren he just had an arch as an evil king last season and he did great. He’s a theatre kid at heart and ended up playing king who slowly gets corrupted by greed and turns evil alarmingly well.

But out of all the suggestions I could give I’d recommend Doc. He’s basically the resident supervillain on the server anyway and he ends up as the “Bad guy” in almost every arch he’s in.

I mean just of the top of my head theirs season six’s arch when he was the evil government scientist fighting the hippies from his Area 51 knock off. Season nine where he fought the buttercups a different hippie group. And you could possibly count season six’s prank war but that’s a complicated mess that really depends on who you have as your main pov’s.

Outside of that he’s know for breaking the game, has but multiple world eaters (complex redstone devices that can essentially delete entire contents), he managed to do some insane nonsense to get the ender dragon as a pet, and he’s so rich he uses diamond ore as redstone scaffolding.

As for references if you want to go with Scar I’d recommend either his or Grians povs for the resistance arch it’s a lot of fun and has great story potential. But if for one reason or another you can’t watch it all then you can use the wiki’s article on it. It’s pretty well written and has all the major information.

For Ren I don’t have much, his arch had so many groups going on with the two separate rebel groups, the kings court, and whatever Grian was doing. Im going to tentatively suggest that you go with Impulse as that gives you a direct look at the soup group who I believe are the ones that actually overthrew him. then I’d say you should probably watch at least a couple of his videos to get a sense of his slow corruption.

If you end up going this route I’d suggest watching Rens third life series as he plays the Red king there which is a much more intimidating version of him as a king, plus a lot a lot of fics in the Hermitcraft sphere have some form of the life series in them due to just how popular and groundbreaking they are.

Now if your going for Doc then then there’s not much I can help on that point as his vids are always very long and there can be a lot of complex redstone stuff I don’t get but both the buttercup and area 77 arch’s are a good start.

Here are some links to help:

Hope this helps good luck! I’m really excited to see what you come up with and I’d love it if you were to let me know when the first chapter gets posted! :D

I'm fairly new to hermitcraft, and I'm attempting to write a fic, but I need a "big bad" so to speak, or at least a figurehead of one. Which hermit would be best to cast as said big bad?

I've already got Etho, Joel, Grian, Mumbo Jumbo, Pearl, ZombieCleo, GeminiTay, and GoodTimesWithScar cast, as well as LDShadowlady and Scott Smajor even though they aren't hermits.

The bad guy is supposed to be a metaphor for capitalism.

Suggestions are appreciated! And please point me to your favorite vids or vods from hermits you suggest! Thank you!

[turtleblogatlast]

No but like every time I think about Splinter and what he had to go through just to keep the boys alive, my heart hurts for him so badly. Is he perfect? No not at all, but none of them are and by god does he love his sons.

The fact that all of them are alive, and grew to thrive despite the circumstances surrounding them is a testament of how much Splinter loves his boys. He raised four babies following the most traumatic time of his life, all alone with nothing but the sewers to house them (to hide them.) I feel like he’s not given the credit he deserves for all he’s done.

And I get that it’s easy to hold up his flaws and faults when it comes to parenting, I myself like looking into them because flawed characters are super interesting and said flaws make them more realistic and engaging, but he tries, and again, so many others would have given up on the boys or failed along the way but Splinter didn’t.

He’s their father, for all his faults he did his damndest to make sure they survived.

[runninguplenorahills]

Actually the moment Gaten Matarazzo confirmed that Mike is in love with Will

I will never get over this lmaoo

[fairweathermyth]

ROBIN HOBB’S REALM OF THE ELDERLINGS >> The Fool The Farseer Trilogy + The Liveship Traders Trilogy + The Tawny Man Trilogy + The Fitz and The Fool Trilogy

You know who I am. I have even given you my true name. As for what I am, you know that, too. You seek a false comfort when you demand that I define myself for you with words. Words do not contain or define any person. A heart can, if it is willing. But I fear yours is not. You know more of the whole of me than any person who breathes, yet you persist in insisting that all of that cannot be me. What would you have me cut off and leave behind? And why must I truncate myself in order to please you? I would never ask that of you.

[aroaceleovaldez]

full on feel like pjo tv s2 is not gonna hold up so they need to drag as much attention to the series as they can by using nico as a sock puppet w tsats2

im fully expecting the show to go the way of the movies. it doesnt help Sea of Monsters is almost unanimously the least favorite book of the first series. People frequently forget it even exists or what happens in it, especially more casual fans.

Heck, just look at how little fanfare the second season has gotten so far as compared to the build up to s1. I wouldn't be surprised if s2 totally flops. It would be a little funny.

[slymanner]

Look all I'm saying is if that a shadow game can work THAT well and be so well designed story wise and gameplay wise

HE can work

[rwby-confess]

Confession #62