#things wot I listen to

[dumpsterfireofsubtext]

When I say this song is so Gideon nav coded, believe me.

[markantonys]

just accidentally stumbled on an egwene hate reddit thread and everyone was bitching about how she tries to act like rand's equal when she's only the second-most powerful authority figure on the continent, and one sane person was like "well, balance was a huge theme of the series, so it's pretty clear that RJ did consider the dragon and the amyrlin two halves of a whole and that rand is meant to be egwene's equal co-authority rather than her superior" and of course they were downvoted to hell. and this one little thread just really epitomizes how the readers who approach WOT as a male power fantasy just fundamentally will never understand the series and its themes and the story it was ACTUALLY telling.

[onaperduamedee]

Notes on The Great Hunt

Very strong beginning rife with political intrigue and stealth break-in. Also, you cannot get a stronger opening than with the arrival of the Amyrlin Seat herself.

Siuan must be the most imposing character I have read in a while. She radiates such intelligence and power, it's the most incredible experience. I was also really looking forward to her reunion with Moiraine and it did not disappoint, particularly with how they are written as conspirators. And were ready to blast Verin out of existence. I don't think I grasp yet how much of radicals Moiraine and Siuan are within the White Tower. Although their actions do not lead to systemic changes, it's fundamentally rebellious and extreme.

Smart move on the show's end to move the Horn's theft to S1. It builds anticipation and allows more room for the power dynamics shifting around Rand in early B2 and that were exemplified by this unspoken tug-war between Shienar and Tar Valon for influence over Rand.

The white cloaks and Bayle Domon chapters... I keep thinking these books need more thorough editing and these are strong arguments in favor. Bayle Domon is a fun character and I enjoy the way he is used as a very external point of view character who wants little if not nothing to do with the plot. Which is a fine cool concept, but it seems a tad contrite to me in the context of such a breadth of POV characters. At times, it felt like arbitrary switching between POVs to show how it looked from a different angle and create tension.

Am unexpectedly annoyed with Lan, who managed to fall down to the bottom of my favourite character's list after this book. I do not like how he acts with Rand, Nynaeve, even Moiraine. I loathe manly superhero hypocrisy and he has it in spades: he's no more helping Rand than Moiraine is, just shaping him into a warlord, a future ally in his war against the Shadows. A whole other meta is in progress about Moiraine and Lan as two contrasting mentor figures in this book and how Rand uses parts of their teachings, but I have just an epidermal reaction to how he is written. It doesn't help that he seems to be leading Nynaeve on. I preferred him when he was barely talking.

On the other end of the spectrum, I cannot wax enough poetry about Siuan. Going into the books, I was sure I could not love her more than her show personification and I was so wrong. She is the very definition of a force of nature and to witness her fine mind clicking like a well-oiled delicate clock is a privilege. I adore how Robert Jordan makes you feel the power of her mind and the way she weighs and turns people. I will need to mourn for a week if the Amyrlin casually dropping off to teach Nynaeve and Egwene, then getting slammed against a wall because she successfully angered Nynaeve into using her power is not included in the show. I will be distraught.

Thom dropping by to go "lol, I hate you guys, you were the worst experience of my life, I am never helping you ever again" was funny.

The Lan/Moiraine scene was super interesting for reasons I will maybe expand on another time, but what struck me most is that not that long ago, Aginor mopped the floor with Moiraine. Truly, beat her so brutally they had to carry her on a stretcher, and neither Lan's presence, nor strong channelers' like Nynaeve or Rand, was enough to spare her. Her decision has been strongly driven by the brutality with which she was reminded of her own mortality, of how weak she is compared to the new players. Her death - a debt for the quest she had accepted to pay a long time ago - is very much about to be paid and in a way that she might have not suspected would hurt so much.

Was disappointed in Nynaeve's Accepted test and Moiraine's fight against the Draghkar. The former came much too soon after the girls' arrival to the Tower, to the point where I didn't get why Nyn was even going with it and why she should care, or worse, why the reader should care. The latter was downright expedited. This was the first time we were seeing from up close those truly terrifying creatures and it was just over in an instant.

Verin was everything the fandom let her out to be. I love that sly old fox who is far more observant than she lets everyone believe but is also absolutely in the clouds.

Loved the venture into the parallel universe and the steading most. These books are never better than when they turn into travel journals, except in odd and magical realms. Same with the description of that monstrosity being unburied that Rand passed by. Have you ever heard of nuclear waste Chekhov's gun ? Because that's how it felt.

Padan Fain is a self-serving bastard and I love him for that: soft retconning the first book helps discard the more classist aspects of his character as well.

The hunt in itself was really engrossing. Because of the title, I was somehow expecting a Wild Hunt from European folklore to turn up but technically we get two! One in the form of the Trolloc party, the other with the Seanchan. Which means the heroes are following the steps of a Wild Hunt rather than fighting or fleeing it. It's a nifty twist on the archetype. And it pays off stunningly when the horn is blown and an army of the dead rises to fight the Seanchan.

Despite knowing Ingtar was a fan favourite, I found him extremely suspicious from the start and the narrative didn't exactly spare hints to show he was obsessed with the horn. So, when the revelation came, it was a) expected but good, b) trying because Rand shows FAR more sympathy toward men doing bad things trying to do the right thing than women.

The description of the battle over Falme itself was impressionistic at best, so like the Ways and TEotW, I bet people are going to complain about the screen adaptation, no matter how obviously unadaptable to the screen it is. I don't care. It was so enjoyable in the books and it'll be good but different in the show. I was really looking forward to it and it went beyond my expectations.

Now the Seanchan... I've got to admit I had to stop reading for a few days after encountering Damane for the first time. On one hand kudos to Jordan for creating antagonists who are genuinely abhorrent and terrifying. Like one hundred percent, bloody hell, hats off, I was not expecting that level of cruelty and political commentary. On the other hand, I have now sizeable concerns about how well a white American author can handle writing about slavery where the victims are so far in the books mostly white. In the same vein, I am very concerned with how it will translate to the screen given the numbers of black and brown channelers involved. If you add on top the fact that this violence seems suspiciously gendered... I am afraid.

Nynaeve and the Seanchan though, hell yes. Everything about that encounter was breath-holdingly good, from her righteous fury to her ability to hold it back not to kick someone who was already down and would get her punishment anyway. It almost makes up for the fact the girls fell for such an obvious trap.

Egwene and the Seanchan too. It honestly hurts too much to think about what she went through and how it will impact her development as a character. She's going through too many traumatic experiences in the span of a few months for it not to leave painful scars.

Oh, the chills I got from the sounding of the Horn of Valere. Seriously. Chills. Beyond that, I am In Love with the concept of the heroes of the horn, the idea of great warriors and heroes from the past walking the world again, some more legends than history. Reminds me of the myth incarnations in Mythago Wood.

Overall, this book was a little frustrating. Frustrating because I knew this was the book where the story was really supposed to pick up the pace and expand lore, so I was looking forward to getting a taste of the series onwards. And it started off really well - Rand, Mat, Perrin and Loial on the hunt, Nynaeve and Egwene on their way to the Tower, Lan and Moiraine doing research, and then it petered out into nothing much. Oh, things happened, but among everything that was set up, only Rand's path was really fleshed out in the middle. I was expecting much more of Nyn and Egwene at the White Tower, and it was treated as a sort of palate cleanser between swaths of Rand chapters. Mat and Perrin didn't have anything to do. Even Lan and Moiraine got more done in the few chapters they were in.

I guess Mat was there as an incentive for Rand and Perrin got to use his powers in a way that would make him feel less monsterized which was actually quite neat, but it's pillow fluffing compared to how much of the story was Rand's.

Even when the girls finally got to do something it was entirely driven by Rand. I get he is the main character and I truly enjoyed his journey across worlds and cities, but part of what spurred me to read the book was the promise of an ensemble, with the characters each having their own story. So far, this doesn't cut it.

THAT said, despite the soft middle, the finale was incredible, much like TEotW. The pacing increased drastically in the last chapters, as well as the tension. It felt like a series finale more than a book finale. I'm starting to see a pattern in Jordan's writing: intriguing steady start, meandering middle and bombastic finale. I am not entirely sure the frustration of the middle part justifies the payoff for me because those are long books, but Robert Jordan knows how to set all the fireworks to make sure the lasting images are the biggest, loudest finale you can imagine. Overall, I did enjoy this one more than TEotW, but less than NS.

Edited: I completely forgot to add I really like Hurin. Much like Loial in TEotW, he gets the archetypal anti-hero treatment from Jordan, and with a lot of benevolence and honesty. It's kinda heartwarming. For his interest in chosen ones and exceptional heroes, Robert Jordan shines most to me when he writes about average people.

[asha-mage]

....anyways I am stupidly close to finishing FFXVI so, fair warning?

[darkfeanix]

Listening to Eye of the World audiobook (Rosamund Pike edition), and some stray thoughts so far:

  - Absolutely heartbreaking portrayal of Rand begging Nynaeve to heal Tam after she tells him she can’t. The raw emotion that Rosamund Pike put into her voice there as Rand was *incredible*.

  - She did not have to go that hard as Baalzemon, but I am so grateful she did. My gosh, absolutely delightful.

  - Loved the voice she chose for Min. I don’t remember the version from the original audiobooks, but Min in my head always had a very... girly voice, for lack of a better way to put it. Rosamund does a lower pitch than I expected, but I adore it.

  - Nothing to do with Rosamund’s narration, but I just passed the Grinwell farm sequence and it made me want to write an AU where Else actually has a greater potential to use the One Power, and so the White Tower holds onto her rather than sending her away after she shirks her duties.

[bi-writes]

how would arguments go between simon and MOB? i imagine he would never dare raise his voice at her.

simon does not argue with his wife. if you are in danger or something is wrong, i could see him using a little bit of his lieutenant's voice just to get you to listen to him. to "get behind me" or "i'll take care of this, you go." otherwise, there's no resistance. none at all.

"you know, simon, i..." you stop at the door, swallowing. you rub a hand over your forehead, shaking your head. "i...i-i really don't want to go."

he shuffles in his boots, staring at you carefully. you're all dressed up; you've got a new dress on (that he bought you, eagerly), and you've done your makeup. you clutch your purse with clammy hands, and he narrows his eyes when he sees the tremble in your bottom lip. he clears his throat, taking his jacket off. he removes his boots quietly, scratching the back of his neck as he comes close to you to take your bag and hang it up by the door again.

"okay," simon murmurs. "then we won't go."

he doesn't tell you about the cancellation fee.

"'ello?"

"simon!"

he startles awake this time, holding the phone closer to his ear. the sheer anxiety in your voice cuts his gut sharp.

"wot? wot is it? wot happened?"

"i--i totally...i screwed up, simon--oh, god, i'm so sorry--"

"oi!" simon says firmly. "wot happened?"

"i...i'm at the shop, someone was going to back into me, so i swerved, and--"

"fuck," simon breathes. "are ya olright?"

"the car, it's--"

"not wot i asked," simon interrupts you. "are ya hurt?"

"w-what? i..." you sniffle. "no. i'm okay. just a little sore, i guess..."

simon lets out a deep breath, shaking his head.

"i'm coming," simon says lowly. "you stay there, baby. don't move."

"but, simon, the walk is--"

"i'll see ya in twenty."

"oh, no, no, no, no!" you gasp. the orange tabby's head perks up at the sound of your voice at the door. she's got one of simon's masks in her mouth, and even from this distance and without the lights turned on, you can tell the fabric is shredded to bits. it's all over the floor, scattered across the couch, flecks of lint in her fur.

"oh, god, how could you?!" you panic a little. she must have gotten into some kind of drawer or basket or the laundry, because as you start towards her, she darts away, leading you across the house where you can see shreds of more masks and simon's socks strewn about the house. "oh, no!"

the front door closes heavy. when you come into the living room, simon is there, dropping his gear onto the floor. he looks tired--his shoulders sag, and you can see his eyes half-lidded and barely opening.

"simon, i'm...i'm s-sorry, she--"

you're holding his tattered clothes, but before you can say anything more, he grabs you by the shoulders and hugs you so tight. you nearly lose your breath from how he crushes you to his chest, and you let out a quiet whimper when his knees buckle and he falls to the floor with you, cradling your head to his chest and kissing your forehead through the mask over and over.

you're here. you're real. you're alive.

you drop the shredded fabric and hug him back, closing your eyes as you breathe him in. he tips your head back finally, ripping his mask off and kissing you hard.

he doesn't care when he sees the orange cat take a bite of his thrown mask and run away with it.

he can buy a million masks. but his girls--he pulls back from your kiss to stare down at you, intense. he hasn't slept in days, and he hasn't had a decent meal in weeks, camping on different rooftops just to track a shipment, and when that bullet whizzed past his head, all he could think about was you. the cat-bitten plants. the warm food. the cherry dress. some things cannot be replaced.

some brides cannot be ordered again. they don't make them like you.

you are one of a kind.

[0alix0]

Overusage of Lore

a lot of people tend to say that bioware put little to no lore into Veilguard, and i might be on a minority on this to me it's way too much and way too shallow

The entire game feels like writers just scream at you "Look at all the magical thing we have!! So we have Titans! And Evanuris! And Illuminati Those Across the See! And-- are you listening? You better listen cuz there are more! We have Shadow Dragons! We have Griffons! We--"

OMG calm down it's not a fucking Warcraft

the best thing in DA was the way it beautifully showed real life issues through the lens of medieval fantasy world.

The dalish weren't so fascinating because they had an entire language made for them and pretty tattoos. They were fascinating because they were enslaved, fought for freedom, then got their land taken away YET STILL continued to fight for survival, for their cultural identity, their children and their children's children, for freedom. Literally combination of native american's and jewish history. Because despite having one goal they all had different approach and opinion about other of their kin: city elves (those disconnected from their culture) and half-elves ("can they be considered elves?" "should they be allowed to be a part of dalish?").

The city elf origin wasn't so memorable because every npc had a backstory with a length of bible. It was memorable because it was the most obvious analogy on racial oppression, segregation, colonialism and fetishism in the entire franchise. Because it had the guts to actually show in details the horrors of these things.

Broodmothers weren't so horrifying because it's a female mixture of jubba hutt and a fucking pudge from dota with a detailed explanation their anatomy. They were horrifying because they were paralleling a very real misogyny, mistreatment, the way how women in some countries are seen as nothing but a walking uteruses, where the only thing they're good for is to give birth

AND bioware doubled it while doing the same thing with Orzammar, cast system & Rica!

The Circles weren't so interesting because we've got dozens of pages in WoT explaining their hierarchy/fraternities. No, they were interesting because it was literally a bunch of medieval GULAGs with a function of a mental hospital, it showed what mistreatments happen there, the abuse, child abduction and enforcement of religion.... And from the side of templars it was a discussion about professional deformation, addictions and the way high ranking people abuse those to control their underlings.

..... And you know, if we were back in origins, griffons, for example, would've probably been used as a parallel on irl eco terrorism. it might've been about how Wardens despite their good nature unintentionally bonded the general association of the entire animal species to their order and abused this connection to the point when the species was beyond preservation!

and btw, then that decision in davrin's quest would actually had any meaning, instead of throwing wardens into mud (again) and turning isseya into a villain for no fkn reason.

lore is only good as long as it's used for purpose, when it has things to discuss, not just exist

i don't fucking care about titans/evanuris/and other shit because they're just a 30 pages long article in codex and WoT trying to explain magic and write DA timeline almost to a fucking mesozoic era. it's BORING. Get me emotionally invested, then i'll care

[earthnashes]

Melon didn't stand a chance.

One moment he's staring the end of their journey over the horizon, and the next he's sent plummeting into the awaiting maw of the trench he stood over by a hearty smack of a claw.

He yelps as he tumbles, twisting in the air for a heartstopping moment before his back meets a crag. Mario's cries are muted by rushing wind as he slips again, falling falling falling--

A heavy thud echoes as he collides--bounces-- off another rock face. His ears rings with the rattling in his skull---

A sharp thwack of his head hitting a jutting ledge, and suddenly Melon doesn't hear-- or feel-- much of anything the rest of the way down.

A metal tang coats his tongue red, and the sting of the air bites against his bruises.

 No weight on his back anymore-- 

Everything hurts. 

--the boy...Mario. Where's Mario? D-did he fall too--

Can't move.

--he needs to get up. His human cub, he could be hurt o-or--- get up--

Stay down.

--get up get up GET UP-- 

Melon stays down, can't muster the strength to listen to the mantra in his head. Instead, all he hears is the desperate wails of Mario, and it's enough to force his eyes open just a sliver. He blearily looks up.

At the edge of the cliff he tumbled from stands the silhouettes he can only barely make out; three huge, three smaller, all laughing and pointing and grinning toothily at the heap of him. The leader- and he must be, with how he leers cockily over the ledge-- sneers down at him.

"Thank ye for the delivery, lad! We've been lookin' all over for this little bastard," he says, and without a care he swings a hollering Mario over the ledge by the scruff. The boy twists precariously in his grip --one slip from falling-- and reaches out for Melon with terrified tears in his eyes. He wails some semblance of his name, and Melon feels his gut twist.

no

"Come now, lad, I see that long face from here; ye nothin' to worry about! Brat may've been a pain in the arse to get, but it'll be worth it in the end. Pirate's Honor: we'll take real good care of 'em," The leader gloats, ugly grin stretching wider as he flicks the boy's nose with a sharp claw. "Just like we have his snivellin' flake of a brother. They'll fetch a fine cut yet."

No no no give him back

"I reckon ye wanna say g'bye at least, aye? I could grant that much, bein' a frog of honor and wot-not." The captain holds Mario high above his head, like an angler would his prized catch, and grins down at Melon from his spot above.

"Go on then. Tell 'em 'afore I change me mind."

Something twisted and ugly clogs Melon's throat with bile and copper. He bares his teeth and tries tries tries to bark, to roar, anything to demand his human cub back to him.

GIVE HIM BACK, his mind screetches. But all that crawls out of his mouth is a rattling, broken whimper. It drags his strength with it by the scruff, spilling in a tiny puddle of spittle and grime and blood as his vision begins to waver. His eyes glaze over and fall closed against his will.

And within the canopy of booming laughs and grating cackles, the last thing Melon hear is Mario's cries.

--------------------------------------------

AND HERE IT IS.

Part 10 of Melon's Adventure, FINALLY COMPLETE, and with it Arc 1 of this story has come to a close!

I'm glad I managed to finish this arc even with it being forced into a hiatus alongside my burnout months back; I had an absolute blast revisiting my childhood and telling the story in a way I've always imagined it as a kid.

Now, given that it's been a while since the last part, I've taken the liberty to compile all of Melon's Adventure into the #melon's adventure tag for ease of access if you'd like to read it back from the beginning!

Despite this marking the end of Arc 1, I'm hoping to make this the start of me delving back into my Super Mario AU, albeit in a slightly different way. There's still plenty of stories there I'd love to share with ya'll. :>

In fact, in related news: I'm actually planning on opening an online store, and my first planned launch will be themed on Melon's Adventure! More information to come on that relatively soon as more work is done.

At any rate, I hope ya'll enjoyed this story! More to come soon! owo

[dumpsterfireofsubtext]

Kick shit around your room tune

[wraithdance]

Damn I'm still getting notifications on this so I guess I'll elaborate on it for funsies lol

Content warning: AFAB!Reader, terrible british-isms, Reader is a firefighter and idk shit about that life lol, very NY/American coded, explicit language. Shorty getting tossed around like a hot n ready in the next part I just love to set the scene a lil lmao

Part one: The Firefighter

Your mother had always told you two things: 1) not to write a check that your ass can’t cash and 2) A hard head made for a soft ass. Unfortunately for you, you never listen. 

You were on the downward slope of a 48 hour shift and feeling every bit of it. Your captain had taken no mercy on the splitting headache you were nursing and designated you to crowd control on the northern sector of the McCallen theater. The heat of the flames enveloping the old building didn’t help with the already stifling heat wave. Sweat slides down your neck in uncomfortable pools that soak the under clothes beneath your turnout gear. 

While in the middle of reassuring an elderly woman whose granddaughter was in the building you’d caught sight of a large form attempting to cross the barrier from the corner of your eye. You’d whipped your head around so fast you’d damn near given yourself whiplash.

“Hey, get back behind the line!”

Your words die in your throat when you come face to face with the fucking grim reaper. He’s broad and dressed in layers of black from head to toe. His eyes, or what you can see of them from behind the eye black, bore into you from beneath his balaclava. 

What the fuck?

There's a moment where your throat closes up and your muscles lock despite your body screaming at you to run the other way. It’s not until he seems to dismiss you and turns like he’s going to continue on his merry way, that you gain back your senses. 

“Hey I said get back behind the line are you crazy?!” You bark, grabbing the sleeve of his jumper.

Who the hell wears a sweatshirt in the middle of June?

“This is an active fire! ” 

He looks at your offending hand and makes a sound you can only describe as a snort.

“Ya’ can bloody see that.”

This motherfu-

“Good job jackass,” You say between grit teeth “I’m glad you can see the fire, funny enough you can also see it from behind. the. damn. LINE!” 

The grim reaper twitches and if it's possible he looks bigger as he turns his full body towards you. 

You’re too hopped on adrenaline to give a shit about his posturing. You’d worked with sweaty macho guys for six years at the station and had been around servicemen your whole life. There wasn’t a pissing contest around that you would ever back down from. So, you puff out your own chest and meet him head on. 

“Sir, I’m not going to ask you again, get behind the barrier.” 

“Or wot.” you think you might actually catch a murder charge.

“You get behind the line like I asked you to, big boy, or I’ll toss your ass over it myself” You hiss. The big fuck just narrows his eyes in consideration. You’re preparing to make good on your threat, when another voice cuts in.

“Riley, What's the problem here?”

Great two of them. 

The second man is not as broad as the weirdo in black, but still just as barrelled chested. He maneuvers around the barrier like it's just a concept and not a physical deterrent. You have to roll your eyes at his boonie hat and the outdated beard. He had the same fashion sense as your grandpa.

He stops beside the reaper's right side and crosses his stocky arms over his chest, his beard twitching as he takes in your stance. There's something in his blue eyes that you might call appreciation, if it didn’t make you feel like you were on a serving platter. 

You really didn't have time for this shit!

“Like I told your friend here, I need you both behind the line, you're getting in the way of my job and I’m tired of repeating myself.” 

It might have been a childish thing to do but you can’t help yourself when you make rude shoo-ing motions with your hands. 

The newcomers' eyes tighten inauspiciously. An imperceptible look passes between the two mountains that you can’t read. It makes you shudder which only stands to piss you off further. 

It’s not the first time you’ve had some hyper masculine fuck question your authority while on a rescue. Hell, it's come to be expected at this point and you’d joined an online support group for firefighters who experienced the same for being non-cis white dudes. 

The issue is whatever energy these monsters disguised as men are emitting, is disorienting. Normally you would have asked for back up after the second time your request was ignored. Yet your radio still sits at your shoulder and your hands are shaking beneath your thick gloves. 

After a beat the man with the boonie hat speaks, identifying himself as the leader of the two. 

“Listen love, we’re SAS, we can help with the rescue if you just point us in a direction.” 

Your eyes are rolling before he even finishes, you knew it. Macho men.

“That’s nice and I’m auditioning for the Wiz! We have everything under control gentlemen but thank you for the offer!” 

Maybe it’s the migraine or the lack of sleep, but you can’t help but to dig the knife in deeper just a little bit. You’re smiling with your teeth and speaking in a baby voice before you can think twice about it.

“Why don’t you big strong men sign up for the next station tour and I’ll give you a nice badge and a sucker!” You clap your hands in mock excitement, before flattening your tone and expression “So that way, when you wanna play firemen, you can do it without jeopardizing the professionals! Fuck you very much, get off of my scene.” 

Looking back it was probably the thing that doomed you, but you’d been too caught up in the moment to see it that way. Your radio had rattled off with the sound of your captain calling you in for an assist.

You hadn’t thought to really sus out the reaction of the men you’d bitched out. Had been all too happy to give up your position dealing with them to a wet behind the ears rookie. 

After getting the fire under control and surviving the end of your shift you’d gone home and face planted on the couch. After chugging down your weight in electrolytes and ramen, you joined the server for the firefighter’s support group.

You’d been soothed by the jokes your online support system cracked when you retold the clusterfuck of a day. Before logging off for the night you get a friend request from some random account with a string of numbers and a skull icon. You snort but look through the profile. Scoffing when you see that it was made in the last hour.

Fucking bot accounts. You’d have to ask the mods to check out their spam filters next time they were on. 

<SR141698 has been Blocked!>

Ugh, you needed a bath.

Preview of next part:

“Open your mouth.”

Your eyes widen and you struggle against the tight grip around your chin. His warm hands only tighten, causing your lips to pucker. A husky laugh sounds from behind your shoulder and you can feel the brush of cotton against your ear.

“C’mon pretty girl, open up, captain just wants to give you a sucker.”

[kalifornia1025]

The Red Circle Pt. 3 (SPOILERS)

*Cutely drops my notes* 

John’s REALLY struggling with the tech. I almost feel bad for the guy (almost).

Aww the episode starts off with John asking the gang (Mariana & Sherlock) if they’re okay after finding a dead body. Always nice he checks in with them!

“The good doctor here” SHERLOCK COMPLIMENTING JOHN

Imani’s back, yay!

Oh no, poor Imani…

This exchange:

Imani: “Sorry about this” (sending another red circle pic)

Mariana: “No no no-don’t be sorry”

Sherlock: “Yes you musn’t it’s fantastic”

John: “Sherlock”

Gregson and Mariana are formerly meeting!

THE MUSIC IN THIS CASE OMG ITS SO GOOD!!!

John, you’re playing Italian Mob style music to “capture the mood”?? What happened to “not wanting to stereotype?!”

JOHN JUST REPLACE THE MIC GODDAMNIT

“Ahh do I have a PTSD friend?” John’s new method to making friends apparently 

Mariana’s right this is stupid just GET A NEW MIC!! You can still keep the old one, John!

I now have a mental image of Sherlock staring wide-eyed at a big tv like he’s in a trance and I LOVE it

Aww possible future movie nights with a new tv!!

DONALD TRUMP JUMPSCARE

Wives of Cheshire comeback HA!!

“Oh you out of your trance are you?” Seriously how mesmerized was Sherlock to the tv for John to make this joke TWICE?!

Mariana discovers the next clue, awesome!

Sherlock: “I don’t seem to have (seat)belt”, Gregson: “What a shame” Gregson you’re such a salty bitch and I love you for it

Poor John trying to get around copyright stuff

“That’s a good start, you did knock and you did say please-“ another sweet moment of Sherlock getting better with social norm stuff

Wow John is REALLY stressed, and Sherlock is NOT helping

Hehe Sherlock is an iPad kid confirmed

I’m starting to love John calling Sherlock ‘Sherls’

“What’s the Site manager like? Is he…she…they?” John says nonbinary rights

John: Ah I’ve stepped in piss”, Sherlock: “Show me the urine”…um what???

You really can’t catch a break your shoes, huh John?

I’m listening to Sherlock and John talk about possibly reaching down into toilets in order to solve the case…man I love this podcast

John: “You’re doing the next one”, Sherlock: *sharp inhale* “fine” tbf Sherlock this was YOUR idea

“The Patreon numbers are gonna collapse” no such thing sir I’ve checked and we’re all here and loving this

Sherlock: “Imani would you perhaps like to have a go?”, Imani: “No”, Sherlock: “Bugger” I love how quickly he says it

Neuralizer mention! I love the Men in Black movies so much

OOOH, John and Sherlock making the realization at the same time!

Sherlock why do you always have a gun??

NOT THE CHIPMUNK VOICES DURING AN EPIC MOMENT

“English pigs, wot?” John sounded so genuinely confused by that

AHHHHHHH CLIFFHANGERS, THE BANE OF MY EXISTENCE!!!!!!

Okay as painful as that cliffhanger is, this case is getting GOOD! I’m loving it. It’s definitely jumping up to my top five fave cases from the podcast. I was not expecting the case to be as silly as it is, and I’m absolutely relishing in it. I love the irony of John insisting this case is gonna be a bad one when I’m loving every minute of it! Alright everybody, now we just have to not die from waiting on the last part…see y’all next week!

[little-worm-grant]

Moonboys: Top Notch Banter

Marc Spector & Steven Grant

404 words / Masterlist.

If you like what you see, leave a like or reblog and follow me ♥

Summary: Steven's all fired up and trying to explain British things to Marc. All of this is complete nonsense and none of it should be taken seriously.

Notes: Inspired by this post. Was funny to me it ended up being 404 words.

Marc was ready to pull his hair out. Staring forlornly back towards the reflection where his counterpart had been driving him crazy for the better part of a day.

They’d argued earlier and Steven decided there was no peace to be had. He chose violence, though nothing like Marc or Jake’s. Talking to himself mostly. Rambling, rambling, rambling. All in the constant vicinity of Marc. Making it near impossible to concentrate. If he couldn’t beat it. He tried joining it.

“But what does cheeky Nando's mean?? It has to have a meaning.”

Maybe he shouldn’t have asked. He was verging on losing his own sanity.

“Mate it’s hard to explain.” Steven started with a disappointed sigh. “It’s just like one day you’ll just be with your mates having a look in JD.”

“… right.” Marc answered. Finding none of it right. He really was trying to follow along. Steven continued on with little breath between his strung-together words of gibberish.

“And you might fancy curry club at the ‘Spoons but your lad Calum, who’s an absolute ledge and the Archbishop of Banterbury will be like, ‘Brevs, let’s have a cheeky Nando's instead.’ And you’ll think ‘Top. Let’s smash it.’”

Hand rubbing over his face to comprehend this level of fuckery. Marc stared for the longest time.

“What are you saying?? You’re not even British? Have you picked this up off the internet?”

“Oi! You wot. Don’t say that. I’ll have you.” Steven pointed his finger up threateningly. “I’ll clap your ears together, I swear on me mum.”

Marc inhaled longingly for a moment of peace. Head tilting back to stare at the ceiling. It was either he put up with this for another hour or say what he’d been meaning to say.

“Alright. Fine. I really can’t listen to you anymore. I’m sorry I ate the last Oreo.”

“Too right! I knew it was you! Knobhead. What’re you like?”

“Did you even know half the shit you were talking about?”

“Course! JD’s a shop you have a gander in. And everyone knows ‘Spoons. Solid place if you fancy a pint in the beer garden. Even if it tastes like piss.”

“Okay?”

And still, somehow, none of it was okay for Marc.

“Gotta love a cheeky Nando’s when the occasion calls for it. Just don’t invite any ledges or Archbishops of Banterbury unless you wanna get wankered.”

“Steven. I’m begging you, please. Forget I ever asked.”

[markantonys]

i already made a joke post about it but genuinely, the whole "wot s1 sucked, which was 100% the show's fault and not the source material's, but now s2 is so much better! shocking! who could've seen that coming!" narrative is SO annoying

like, the eye of the world is boring as shit! it's generic as shit! of COURSE an entire season based on it is not going to be the most groundbreaking or thrilling fantasy television you've ever seen in your life! how on EARTH can the readers who've been saying for decades that the books don't start to hit their stride until book 2 or 3 or 4 fail to grasp the correlation with season 2 being better than season 1? but even so, s1 alone IS more groundbreaking and thrilling than book 1 alone, because the showrunners knew that book 1 is boring and generic as shit and did their absolute damnedest to pull in as many unique elements from later books as they could conceivably fit in this early on.

second, s1 had to do a HUGE amount of heavy lifting in terms of setting up characters, relationships, lore, and worldbuilding. s1 did all this groundwork so that s2 could have the payoff you're enjoying so much, s1 constructed the basic building blocks so that s2 could explore the more advanced concepts you're gushing over. s1 ran so that s2 could soar! put some respect on its name!

third, stakes tend to get higher, characters to get deeper, and plotlines to get more exciting as you go along in a story. this is how stories work. why are you shocked that s1 only built the basic foundation of the story and s2 has the space to grow and deepen that story? that's how stories work, that's how TV works, and that's most certainly how the WOT books work.

fourth, practical constraints s1 had that s2 had less of

budget: s1 was starting from scratch, whereas s2 had more budget to spare since some things could be reused from s1 AND it got a bigger budget than s1 in the first place.

experience: second seasons almost universally tend to be better than pilot seasons, simply because everyone involved in making the show has gotten into the groove and solidified how they want to do this thing. this is how television works.

covid: it should go without saying that s1 would have been One Million Times more difficult and expensive to make than s2 due to covid stuff. whatever effect we may think covid had on s1, the true effect was probably astronomically higher than what we imagine. the majority of "looks too cheap" "looks too empty" complaints likely come down to this (notice that most of those complaints are about episodes 6-8 and not the early episodes; 6 was filmed pre-covid, yes, but i wouldn't be surprised if some covid-related restrictions were starting to rear their heads before production was officially shut down).

the worst part is the people who end their above-mentioned take with "they must have listened to audience criticism of s1 and made changes accordingly." [moiraine voice] the arrogance. s2 had already been written and filming was WELL underway (if not finished or close to finished?) by the time s1 even started airing. if you're impressed by what a great season they've delivered, the credit for that lies entirely with the people who made the show, not your stupid ass.

[bi-writes]

ghost always gets what he wants. (18+, blood kink, dark)

right now, what he wants is sitting across the pub from him. she's smiling, swinging her legs a little as she talks to the bloke next to her. he's leaning into her space, making her laugh, buying her drinks and keeping her smiling and a little drunk. he's putting it on heavy, ghost can tell--actively listening to her, engaging in the conversation, never letting her add her drink to any tab but his own.

ghost tilts his head to the side, running his tongue over his teeth under the mask. that man wouldn't know what to do with that kind of a girl. she's all woman, soft skin, wide hips, a pair of tits he knows would feel like welcome weights between the palms of his gloved hands, pouty lips that deserved to be kissed and bitten and sliding along the length of a cock that can fill her up and choke her from the inside out.

that's what pretty girls like her deserve--to be fucked spineless, to be reduced to nothing but a teary, whimpering mess. a muppet like that would never know what to do with her, how to touch her, how to make her sing.

she's a soft thing. a pretty thing. and he wants her, so he will have her.

you exit the bathroom, a skip in your step as you shuffle outside. he said he would get a car, take you home, and you bounce on your toes as you wait by the curb, looking around the empty parking lot for your ride. but after a few minutes, you turn your head each way, and you realize no one is here, and there is no car coming.

you fully spin around when a dark figure comes out from behind the alleyway. big boots crunch the gravel underneath, and when he comes under the light of the streetlamp, you take a small step back.

the light cuts an angle over his face. you swallow, taking in the breadth of him, tilting your head to look up at him as he steps closer. his mask covers most of his face, and the eyeblack clouds his skin, but you can see the determination in his eyes. it is in the rigidness of his shoulders, the way he stands--and it is the pass of a tactical knife over his chest that you understand the danger that one person can impose.

he wipes one side of it over his dark jacket, stepping closer, until he's in your space, hovering over you. your lips part as he brings the knife down, pressing the other side of it against your throat. you tense a little as he meets your eyes, passing it over until the blood against the sharp edge wipes off, staining the skin of your neck.

he pauses when he sees the hint of a smile on your face. he narrows his eyes, expecting fear, expecting something other than the interest that sparkles in your eyes. like you are all-knowing. like you see everything he is, everything he is not, and like you know what it is he wants.

"i see you," you whisper. "all the time."

ghost sniffs, glaring, and you keep your eyes on his as he drags the knife down your chest, the tip of it moving down between your breasts.

"you're not very subtle," you finish. "quite obvious, what it is that you do...why you do it."

ghost tilts his head to the side, clicking his tongue, and you almost giggle.

"is tha' right, swee'eart?"

you nod.

"been waiting," you say softly.

"for wot?"

you smile.

"for you to make your move," you murmur. your eyes flicker down, eyeing the blood on the front of his jacket. you look up into his eyes again, pursing your lips, and ghost bites his tongue hard enough to draw blood. fuck, the same thing he sees in his dreams, it's in your fucking eyes. you're not afraid, and it angers him, repulses him, and fulfills him all the same. "hmm...you didn't approve of him?"

ghost growls, "was a right muppet. cried like a baby."

your tongue darts out, wetting your lips, and ghost follows the drag of your tongue hungrily. you are not the screaming, soft, doe-eyed little thing he thought he might like to have.

you are silent, deadly, a wolf in sheep's clothing, and he does not just want to have you. he needs you. he needs you to live under his skin. he needs to taste you, to have you flood his mouth, to chew and eat and swallow and breathe.

he would say you are his match made in heaven, but he knows this does not exist, because if it did, he wouldn't be real. and neither would you.

"ooof," you scrunch your nose. "i hate cry babies."

you almost make him laugh.

he steps closer, sliding the knife lower until it rests at the curve of your waist.

"you don't need that, you know," you whisper, and he leans in, the front of his mask brushing against your lips.

"no?"

"no," you echo, smiling wider. "if you wanna feel up my skirt, all you gotta do is ask. it'd be nice to have your name first though."

"ghost."

you giggle, "your real name, baby."

"'s ghost."

"that what you want me to say when i'm in your bed tonight?"

"who said you'll be in m'bed?"

you reach up with one hand, dragging the tip of your finger down the strong line of his jaw. he towers over you, shadows you, and the knife is sharp against your skin, but all you want is to be a little closer.

you close your eyes when you feel his hand. the tips of his gloved fingers graze the skin of your upper thighs, and you suck in a soft breath when he drags that hand up under your skirt. you put both hands on his chest as you tremble slightly, holding onto him for support as his big hand fondles one side of your ass. his fingers creep lower, and he groans audibly.

"no knickers, swee'eart?" he mutters, and you just giggle breathlessly. "how long 'av y'been waitin' for me, huh?"

you open your eyes, tilting your head back and holding back a whine when you feel his thick fingers prodding at your folds, soaking up the slick there and teasing your cunt. it's sick--you must be sick, you must be awful, you must be so dead inside, you have to be, but it's so hard to care.

you gasp when he grips your throat, forcing your eyes on his, and you hold him there.

"answer me. how long 'av y'been waitin' for me?"

you soften, smile, bare your teeth for him.

"my whole life, baby."

[phntmeii]

♡ Dating Hobie Brown Headcanons

❝ I'm not a role model, I was briefly a runway model. I hate the AM, I hate the PM, I hate labels, I'm not a hero, because calling yourself a hero makes you a self-mythologizing narcissistic autocrat.❝

[ SFW + No Gendered Terms]

A/N: I can't believe it took me so long to get around to this man since he's broken me since the movie released. Will be clawing at the doors of the studio for more Hobie screentime. Also, sorry it’s been a bit since the last headcanon list. Classes and shit :(

✖ Off the bat, I'm sorry to say but Hobie would not consider what you two do as "dating". He doesn't like labels and being called someone's partner is too constricting of a box.

✖ Now that doesn't mean he isn't loyal. He's actually extremely loyal. The moment he is attracted to someone, everyone else fades away from his vision and it's just you.

✖ The only time he'd label the two of you as "partners" was if someone else showed interest in you. If someone casually asked, then no, you two are just hanging out. But if that person was interested in you, Hobie is like:

✖ "Actually, bruv, sorry to say but they're already with me. So, unfortunately, your eyes need to look elsewhere, yeah?"

✖ Pavitr is the equivalent of your pseudo-child/third-wheel. You two pay for his food, give him advice on him and Gayatri, and have him backseat on drives.

✖ Hobie is more of a listener than a talker. He likes to hear about your fixations and interests. His eyes stare at you with a small grin when he hears the moment you become totally excited in talking about your interests.

✖ And it doesn't matter what you're interested in, Hobie learns about it in his own time so he knows what you're talking about with more of an understanding.

✖ While Hobie may seem to not be paying attention sometimes, he actually had quite a good memory and simply pretends to forget when it comes to other people or if it's one of Miguel's orders.

✖ But with you, every word is ingrained into his memory and you'd be surprised that things you told him a long time ago are still present in his mind if something reminds him of it.

✖ He’ll be more than happy to lend some of his things to you! So long as he can do the same with you. If it’s clothing or something, he has specific pieces that are dedicated to himself so he won’t let them be taken from him. If you’re insistent though, he’ll simply make another one for you (with some design choices specifically attuned to you)!

✖ Hobie is very chill when it comes to his partner. He’s not an overly jealous type nor an overprotective one. He has full trust in you to make your own decisions.

✖ Absolutely acts as though his interests are commonplace and fakes surprise when you say you haven’t been exposed to that thing before.

✖ “You wot? Whadja mean you ain’t ever heard of (insert obscure indie film with a $1k budget)? It’s a classic, love, trust. You’ll love it.” It was in fact not one you loved and it was in 144p on a pirated site.

✖ Sometimes Hobie will scare the shit out of you by popping up out of nowhere. You’ll just go to the kitchen to get a snack, come back to your bedroom and Hobie is just chilling at your desk even though he wasn’t there two minutes ago.

✖ Because of his calm nature, he’s actually really good at comfort. If you feel overwhelmed or panicked, Hobie sets you down and calmly grounds you back to reality.

✖ He offers his hands, gently rubbing his thumbs on the back of your hands, and speaks in a calm voice. Once you’ve calmed, he’ll have a sweet smile.

✖ “Welcome back, love… C’mere. You’re alright. M’right here, love.”

✖ Hobie's main Love Languages to give are: Gift Giving and Physical Touch.

✖ Hobie loves to make gifts for you especially if you show interest in his style or anything he owns!

✖ He tends to be possessive over his own things so he'll make you a copy or your own version! Even if it's something time-consuming like making your own version of a vest or garbage pants, he loves spending time to do it if he gets to see the look on your face because of it.

✖ Because he has a massive collection of pins, patches, etc. he'll often hand some to you if he thinks you'll like them.

✖ Hobie's one indication of a "public claim" on you would be a gifted necklace that his guitar pick. On the back, he signed it as "H♡ ".

✖ This man is sly with physical touch. It's purposeful in a way to have you blushing and stuttering.

✖ He especially does it if you are in conversation with someone else just to watch you squirm. Something as simple as passing his hand at the small of your back just to see you fight back a blush or smile has him on cloud nine since he's the only one who can do that to you.

✖ Hobie also loves to rest his chin on top of your head. He'll do it anytime you two are standing around and he just wants to be closer to you.

✖ Hobie's favorite Love Languages to receive are: Quality Time and Words of Affirmation.

✖ There's nothing sweeter to Hobie than seeing his SO go out of their way to make time for him. He may tease about it. Something along the lines of: "Couldn't get enough a' me, hm?" but he really is so honored that you'd want to spend time with him.

✖ He can sometimes disappear at random when he’s on his duty. Coming back to see you in his room has him tearing off his suit and just holding onto you. There’s nothing more comforting than a simple relaxing time in bed with you with low lighting and music playing.

✖ Hobie is an intelligent musician. Words mean everything and the way they are strung together mean more.

✖ You can swear that you’ve never seen Hobie get flustered but Hobie knows how his heart melts at your words.

✖ His favorites are when you give him letters or send songs. He’ll read the letters over and over and read into the lyrics of the song continually.

✖He also loves hearing you compliment him as it gives him reason to turn up his own charm in response.

⤷ divider credits: @cafekitsune

[elenthyaolyenths]

It started as it will end, with a garden with this post -> link

"Stuntman / Stuntwoman / Stuntperson: a person employed to take an actor's place in performing dangerous stunts on purpose"

Day 12 : “Funnier my way” - Good Omens, Gymnast/StuntPerson AU

Aziraphale *angry*: You're being silly! Hurting yourself like this...

Crowley *pouty*: Naaah. Stunt person, that's what I am!

Aziraphale: Well, Dear, it is dangerous. *sigh*

Crowley: *sigh loudly* It's not if you're doing it professionaly. And I am. Very professional. Me.

Aziraphale: ...

Crowley: ...

Aziraphale *kindly*: Does it still hurt?

Crowley *softly*: ...Yeah. Still hurts. But doing it my way is funnier, Angel.

[Previous] [Next Day] [First Day]

Don't forget to 💕/ reblog ;-)

Personal challenge: a simple sketch each day

Goal: forcing me to keep things simple - inking, shading, just a few sashes of colour

Improvement pursued: to get the movement, the emotion, finding how to add depth, learning how to leave things barely finished

Max time allowed: 2 hours instead of 8-20 on my previous projects - well, 2 hours for the complete sketch, then 1 more hour for editing their lovely quotes - AND drawing the Minisnake!Crowley.

Today's theme chosen by me: Well, this time it definitely feels like it's the theme that HAS CHOSEN me. I was scrolling on Tumblr and found this old "Gymnast Vs Stuntwoman" video I have already seen on YouTube months ago. But my GO-rotten brain made me think "WOAAA this is splendid AziraCrow Arrangement's vibes, doesn't it'". Aaaand... Voilà.

Trivia: when I started this Challenge, I wasn't very comfortable with Aziraphale soft curves - partly because I always tried to draw unrealistic bodies and "healthy" (whatever that means) silhouettes, and partly because it reminds me of my own bigger roundnesses and I can't stop feeling ashamed about it. But now I like to draw realistic Aziraphale more and more, sometimes plushy, sometimes a little bit more muscular (you'll see it in my future Ice Skating Tribute). It is a long road for me, but I like it a little more each day .

Trivia2: I love so much their wings tattoos. And I am particularly proud of the winged-sword because when I imagined it, it only took 10 minutes doing it. I am having so much fun in this Challenge, because I don't have time to think or hesitate. It's very refreshing for an indecisive and perfectionist artist like me.

How did it start? I reblogged here but my brain didn't want to stop...

"Hey, Good Omens Fam, listen, listen.

Is it just my Good-Omens-rotting brain speaking, or there is some Aziraphale/Crowley's Arrangement vibes here?

Feels like a kind of funny Fem!AU to me...

Aziraphale: If I may? *performs their gymnastic routine with a perfect sense of timing, beautiful and powerful, everything is neat, calculated, an rightful Angel in disguise with their sculptural body and their lovely blond curls*

Crowley: My turn. *performs the exact same gymnastic routine with an almost-perfect sense of timing, failling clumsy and weirdly sensual, everything seems chaotic but it IS (?) calculated, an bloody Demon in disguise with their messy gestures and their red disheveled long hair*

Aziraphale: ...

Crowley: WOT? Job done!

Aziraphale, *sincerely concerned* : Mate, didn't you just hurt yourself on this last jump?

Crowley, *blushing*: Ha! No way. I am a professional. Very professional, me.

Aziraphale: ... ... .... *raise eyebrows*

Crowley, *blushing A LOT*: ...Yeah. Still hurts. But my way is funnier, Angel.

Aziraphale: Oh dear. 🥺🙄😌"

And YES, the stuntwoman dit it ON PURPOSE - almost of it. See for yourself, they are so lovely, having so much fun together.