#this ended up longer than i meant

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CG! Diluc and Regressor! Albedo

Note: I haven’t met Albedo yet in genshin so I apologize if he’s out of character ! I just read up on him for this (he seems so silly)

Albedo was stressed beyond belief, he usually didn’t come down to Mondstadt because of all the people - usually only traveling down when few people would be around such as the evening or dead of night.

Yet today was different. He decided that for once he’d go down and meet with Sucrose and his other alchemical colleagues; they were all lovely friends to him and understood his reclusive reasons.

A few days prior while Sucrose was up running around with him on Dragonspine she had mentioned how there was going to be a small get together with all the local alchemist to discuss their progress and share insights.

How could he miss that!?

So now, Albedo is sitting at a corner booth in the winery, feeling as if all his nerves were on fire. Social interaction was probably worse than he remembers. What do people normally say? How do they correctly drink? Is there a wrong way to? How does it feel like Razor of all people understands humans more than he does.

Thoughts piled on top of each other leaving Albedo overwhelmed from his own mind - alchemy made sense. You simply had to place liquids and objects correctly together, follow a clear cut path, and you’ll get your desired response.

People are unpredictable. There’s intricacies upon intricacies that don’t add up and they’ll always misunderstand something. So he avoids people who he cannot predict.

“It’s been lovely, but I fear I must go. Sucrose, if something pops up I need to know do you mind passing along the message?” Albedo slid out of the booth as he spoke, carefully dusting off his clothes - people did that, right?

“Of course! I’ll see you on Dragonspine soon, okay?” Sucrose smiled, her smile was always so warm. It reminded albedo of the potions he mixes.

Diluc had watched from the bar, carefully drying the glasses he had washed. Normally he people watched to make sure drunken guests didn’t cause ruckus but today there was someone new.

Albedo was down off the snow covered mountain and shaking, the boy never shook even in the sheer cold, he was always perfectly bundled and near a fire yet here he seemed like a leaf. Something was off and Diluc had a bitter taste; he watches over his guests despite how little he knew of them.

“Take over the bar for me will ya?” Diluc tossed a towel over his shoulder and sat the keys down on the counter for his number two to take. “I got an issue to resolve.” With that Diluc was off, quickly following behind Albedo.

Mondstadt in the moment felt humongous to Albedo, the roads twist and turned leading for his head to pound and fog. He couldn’t remember which way led to the gates and at this point he was about to figure out how to scale the walls.

Albedo just wanted out. He wanted to tranquility of snow, fireplaces, and mitten covered hands. Those were all so comforting to Albedo, it felt like home - the only home he truly had.

Crumpling, Albedo grabbed his head trying to force the fog to clear so he could remember Mondstadt simple U-shape layout. “Hey, ‘Bedo is everything okay?” With caution Albedo looked up, trying to will his voice to speak to the person and confirm everything was totally fine.

Diluc. Albedo had heard of him a few times, he knew the man was kind but didn’t go out of his way to interact with people all that much. Were they the same? Both preferring isolation to the complexity of people.

That didn’t seem right as right now the red head was crouched in front of him, looking too comforting for someone who didn’t like people. Maybe the fog was the cause of this. Why was he so foggy?

“Diluc? Where’s..gates. Need t’a go home.” Albedos words were spaced out and slurred but he got the message across. Later he could question why he couldn’t seem to speak right, later he would overthink this communication block, right now he just needed tranquility.

“I don’t think I can let you go home buddy..you seem a little spacey and I’d rather not let us lose you to the cold.” Diluc held out his hand and did his best to force a small smile. He wasn’t the best at comfort, having always been around Adelinde who knew him and all his brash ways. Right now though, Diluc needed to be of comfort. He could tell what was going on in Albedos head, he’d gone through it himself so many times.

The first is always scary if you don’t know what’s happening.

Albedo carefully took Dilucs hand. Neither knew how things would go, neither were sure if everything would be okay but for now Albedo had Diluc to help him.

Diluc had carried Albedo back to the winery on his hip, at first the blonde had tried to walk by himself yet after nearly eating gravel a few times Diluc calmly explained how it it was simply too dangerous.

Now, both men were back at the winery and Diluc was left to fret over the boy (and his rash decision making). “Hey ‘Bedo, is there anything that will make you more comfortable here?” Diluc washed out a small cup with a lid, unsure of how old Albedo currently was - and if he was even fully regressed right now.

Speaking of, Albedo sat on the couch in the next room over lightly chewing on his thumb. The world had seemed to have gotten bigger in mere moments, at first he could have handled it but now since feeling so. Safe? Comfortable? What was the word - regardless, due to Diluc watching over him the world had expanded.

Suddenly Diluc was in front of Albedo, holding a lidded cup with a straw, “Hey buddy, let’s get a drink and stop chewing on that thumb okay?” Albedo hummed and reached out for the cup, gently holding on to it with both his hands. It was cold, something that comforted him and reminded Albedo of home.

Both boys worked in silence, albedo trying to make sense of everything while Diluc tore open a package and tugged out a matching pacifier and teether - he wasn’t sure which would be preferred .

When offered a choice between the two, Albedo seemed to contemplate before reaching out and carefully grabbing the pacifier. Almost as if there was a wrong choice.

“Oo, I enjoy those as well when I’m like you.” Diluc reached out and raked his fingers through Albedos hair, careful to not mess up the boys hairstyle. “Now, I’m gonna offer you three choices just hold up a finger for the first, and so on okay?”

Albedo nodded, his fingers intertwining and tugging on each other. Multiple choice, he enjoyed questions like those it was easy to rule out which was correct.

“Okay, which would you like to do. One: we can watch a show, two: I can read you a story, three: we can take a nap.” Diluc held up a finger with each one, helping Albedo keep track of which one was which.

The question was mulled over by the boy before he held up two fingers then added a third. “Re’ed then nap?” The words came out slightly muffled due to the pacifier but Diluc was able to deduce them.

“We can do that kiddo, cmon let’s go find a story.” Diluc crouched down, counting to three before he lifted Albedo into his arms. “Wanna play multiple choice for the story too kid?” With that both of them were off to the mini library that was was kept at the far end of the manor.

[hinamie]

binding vow

[iwritenarrativesandstuff]

There's something in the differing emphasis that Brad and Hunter and Charles place on the phrase "good guy" that really affected me on my first watch and hit even harder on my second. I'm going to try and put it into words.

When Brad and Hunter say it, they say "we're good guys", as in, good at everything a guy "should" be good at - good at sports, popular with the ladies, on their way to a good university. But they turn out to be total shitheads. They don't care about being "good", they just care about their reputation, how they're perceived. It's status and power - they're good guys and they feel entitled to do whatever they want.

But when Charles, feeling betrayed by this reveal of their character, says he wanted them to be good guys, the emphasis is completely different. Charles wants to be a "good guy". He doesn't want to be a "bad guy".

The emphasis is on good, because that's really the crux of Charles' greatest fears, isn't it?

When Charles wants to be a good guy, he doesn't mean it the way Brad and Hunter do; that veneer of goodness that comes with popularity. He means that nothing he did was ever good enough for his dad. Doing the good thing and helping that kid his "friends" were beating up literally got him killed. Trying to stop Devlin only got him trapped in the loop, stuck until his friends freed him, only able to watch helplessly as a mother and her innocent children get slashed to death before his eyes.

And it's this helplessness that is the thing that truly sets him off at the end of episode 4.

It always struck me just how much of his breakdown there, for as much as he finally gives a voice to his own hurt at the injustice of his situation, was still about other people. Because he was secure-ish, at one point, when he was Edwin's partner and protector. He thought he did a good job at it anyways, but guess not, because something obviously happened with Edwin and he's not talking to him about it. And he likes to think he did good with solving cases, but Crystal is still hurting and haunted by a demon and nearly threw herself off a cliff earlier that day because she wants her parents so badly, and he's no closer to helping her solve that. And all of it, every single part of it, is a reflection of his own unresolved trauma; that he never "made it better" and he can't, so now he tries to be good enough for other people, but that isn't working anymore either, and now someone is threatening to take Edwin away, and even this final shocking act of anger and violence is still in service of protecting; of saving someone from the suffering he was never able to escape except by fucking dying.

His anger, really, stems from the injustice of it all, and the abuse of power by guys who can get away with it because they're guys, when they should've, could've, been good to others instead. It's a large part of why he projected so strongly onto Brad and Hunter - they did everything right, they were good guys who got screwed over, because even if everyone seems to love you, there's always that one person you can never please, right? Who will hurt you, no matter how good you are. When it's revealed that Brad and Hunter are far more like his bullies, like Devlin, like his dad, than he'd thought - controlling, intolerant, cruel to those who "step out of line" - Charles feels betrayed and horrified because he related to them... so what does that say about him?

But here's one major difference that Charles does not seem to recognize well. Charles has never had the power in these situations. He was the victim, and his being the victim is through no fault of his own, but the fault of those who decided to be cruel. It is certainly not contingent on how good he is. Being good in the eyes of people who want to hurt you will not stop them from hurting you.

When he lashes out at the Night Nurse, it's out of helplessness and rage. Once again, he's pitted against someone who holds more power than he does and is threatening harm, and he's just been bitterly, brutally reminded that a smile and a helping hand and a firm word never, ever worked to make it stop. There's only one other way he can think of to shift the balance of power, and he's finally livid enough to actually do it. This violence is a desperate attempt to finally overcome yet another force much greater than him, a transdimensional entity that has unjustly arrived to take his best friend to Hell. And Charles wins, he did it, he stopped her, at least for the moment. But at what cost, when he looks at his friends and can't tell whether they look more scared for him or of him? And can he blame them, when he's clearly scared of his own anger and how overwhelming it is now that it's been let out?

Because he tries so hard to be good and it's never good enough to stop the suffering. Because that anger rose to the surface so easily and maybe that means he's not good at all.

But of course, Charles once again misses something important here - there is a distinction in why that anger exists. His dad, Devlin, and Brad and Hunter get angry because their power over others makes them feel they have a right to punish when things don't go their way. Charles gets angry because he feels more helpless than he'd care to admit, and seeing cruelty inflicted onto others by those with power makes him want to cut them down to size.

And herein lies the second major difference. Charles... is a kind person, at heart. He's genuine. He really does likes helping out, he likes making people happy, he doesn't turn people away who need help, he's friendly and protective. The scene where Edwin pulls him out of his fear that he's somehow bad even though he really doesn't want to be, is outright one of my favourite scenes for what it brings to both of their characters. Edwin knows exactly what to say. While it's always good to check your behaviour, to apologize and take accountability - because no one can be good all the time, and even the most well-intentioned of us will mess up sometimes - Edwin is right.

"Bad guys do not worry about being bad guys."

[ghosttotheparty]

based on this post by @liightsnow <3

“Lucas, what’s your favourite song?”

“Oh, uh. I don’t know.”

“Figure it out,” Steve says tightly. “And tell me. If we don’t have the taPes we can get some in town in the morning.”

The room is quiet, tense, and everyone knows what’s going through Steve’s head.

Just in case.

It’s almost uncomfortable, all of them sitting around the basement of Nancy’s house, on the sofas and the floor like they’re waiting for something.

“Mine’s Time After Time,” Erica says after a moment. “Cyndi Lauper.”

Dustin snorts.

“Excuse me?” Erica says, tilting her head, and Eddie suppresses a smile, looking back and forth between them. “Why is that funny?”

“Nothing,” Dustin says, shrugging.

“‘Nothing?’ Why’d you laugh then, huh?”

“Just…” The others are all watching too, suppressing their own tired smiles as they bicker. “You’re such a hard-ass, it’s kinda funny that your favourite song’s a romantic ballad.”

“Language,” Steve scolds. Eddie’s smile grows.

“What’s your favourite song, then, asshole?” Erica asks.

“Language,” Steve says louder. Eddie is grinning now, rocking back and forth, looking away from Steve’s scandalised expression to Dustin’s face, which is now flushing pink.

“…Angeleyes,” he admits. “By ABBA.”

There’s a chorus of muffled laughter around the room.

“ABBA?” Eddie questions, making a face, and Dustin raises a finger at him.

“This needs to be a judgement-free zone—“

“You were just laughing at me for Cyndi Lauper,” Erica interrupts, shoving at him.

“That’s ‘cause it was funny.”

“ABBA’s kinda funny, too,” Lucas says, shrugging. Max is next to him, giggling behind her hand, headphones around her neck, and Eddie can’t remember the last time he saw her laugh. Dustin flips Lucas off.

“What’s your favourite song?” he asks, slumping into his seat and crossing his arms, almost pouting.

Lucas pauses, thinking for another moment before he says, “Rio,” firmly. “Duran Duran.”

Steve gives an approving nod, and Eddie rolls his eyes. Figures the jocks would have the same music taste.

“Why?” Dustin asks. Lucas makes a face, tossing a hand.

“‘S a good song, why do I need a reason?” he asks, then leans forward. “Why do you like Angeleyes?” he teases. Dustin turns pink again.

“Makes me think of Suzie,” he says begrudgingly. “Does Rio make you think of anyone special?”

“Shut up,” Lucas snaps, backing off. Eddie glances at Max, whose cheeks are pink she she looks down, still smiling. Eddie’s grin widens.

When he glances at Steve, he’s smiling too, watching the kids fondly. And Eddie is grateful for this moment, for the softness and banter and bickering and normalness, even if it’s brief.

“Robin, what’s your favourite?” Lucas asks, ignoring the way Dustin is snickering at him.

“Uh,” she sighs, looking up at the ceiling, arms around her legs that are drawn to her chest. “Emerald Eyes, Fleetwood Mac.”

“Wait, do we all have the tapes for these?” Steve asks. "I think I have Fleetwood Mac, but..."

“I have Erica’s,” Nancy says. “In my room. I might have Dustin’s too.”

“I have mine at my house,” Lucas says. Steve hesitates.

“I might have it too,” he says. “I’ll check when we stop at mine tomorrow.” Lucas nods. “Nancy, what’s yours? You have it?”

“Yeah,” Nancy says. “I have it, its’s One Way or Another. Blondie.”

Steve nods.

The rooms falls quiet again. Eddie looks at Steve again, at the way he’s sitting on the floor, arms around his legs like Robin. at the way he’s biting his lip, deep in thought. There’s a crease between his eyebrows. He looks too old, not at all like the boy Eddie used to see in the hallways at school. It feels weird to miss him.

“Steve,” he says quietly. Steve blinks, looking up at him like he’s startled. “What’s yours?”

“Uh, Shout At The Devil by Mötley Crüe,” he says. “I have it in my room.”

He’s met with silence.

Eddie finally stops rocking back and forth, staring at Steve, wondering if he really just said what Eddie heard. Steve blinks and looks back at him, then at the kids.

“…What?”

“Mötley Crüe?” Lucas says slowly.

“Yes?”

“Since when do you listen to metal?” Dustin says, and Eddie would go after him for his tone (he sounds disgusted) if he weren’t still frozen, stuck in place.

“Since, like, middle school,” Steve says defensively, rocking Eddie’s world even more. “What’s your deal?”

“I thought you were gonna say something by, like, Wham,” Max says dryly. Steve makes a face.

“Or ABBA,” Erica adds, dodging Dustin’s elbow.

“He listens to metal all the time,” Robin says, and Eddie finally tears his eyes away from Steve to look at her, wide-eyes. “Drives me crazy.”

“You don’t mind Van Halen,” Steve says defensively, leaning forward to look at her, and Eddie’s gaze finds him again.

“I do when I get out of school,” she says sassily. “And I’m tired, and I want a nap, and I get into your car to hear some guy yelling—“

“It’s not yelling, oh my god—“

Eddie’s lips are parted as he looks at Steve in awe as they bicker. He snaps out of it when Steve looks at him, their eyes meeting across the coffee table, and he blinks.

“What?” Steve says, half-smiling like he knows. Eddie shrugs, starting to rock back and forth again.

“Didn’t know you had it in you,” he says lightly. Steve raises an eyebrows. (God, why is that hot?)

“To have good music taste?” he asks, amused. Eddie shrugs again.

“Debatable.”

“The hell do you mean debatable?” Steve says, defensive again. Eddie grins.

“Mötley Crüe’s glam metal—“

“You are so fucking annoying,” Steve says, his eyes wide. “Oh my god.”

Eddie throws his head back with a loud Hah! as a chorus of Language! rings around the room, followed by giggles as Steve makes a face.

“What’s yours?” Nancy asks, kicking Eddie lightly from where she’s sitting on the sofa.

“Master of Puppets,” he says, his smile fading. “Metallica. I have it in my room, but I don’t know if we’ll be able to get it from the trailer—“

“I have it.”

Eddie’s eyes snap back across the coffee table. Steve is looking at him. Earnestly. Seriously. Eddie furrows his brows.

“What?” Steve says. “I have it.”

“Who are you?” Dustin says, and Steve finally looks away from Eddie to glare at Dustin.

“You be quiet, Angeleyes.”

“It’s a good song—“

“For a twelve year old girl, maybe.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Erica interrupts.

Their voices turns to white noise. Eddie stares at Steve, his cheeks flushing with heat, and he pulls a piece of his hair across his face absentmindedly, gazing and gazing and gazing at Steve while he bickers with Dustin. Steve’s smile when Lucas joins him in teasing Dustin makes Eddie’s face flush warmer, and Eddie blinks hard, dropping his hair and looking away so he doesn’t combust.

He turns a little bit to find Nancy staring at him, her head tilted, eyebrows raised a little, her eyes shining with amusement even though her expression kind of looks like she’s watching a house fire.

“Unbelievable,” she says after a moment, and his face turns hot, and he knows he’s blushing profusely as he points at her.

“You can’t say shit to me.”

She raises her hands in surrender, wide-eyed.

She gives him the same look the next day when Steve comes back with the tapes. Steve calls, “Eds,” while Eddie is laying upside down on one of the sofa, and Eddie tries to sit up before Steve tosses the tape to him. He manages to catch it, looking at it curiously in a lapse of memory before he remembers just as he spots his name written on the label, slanted and a little loopy in Steve’s handwriting.

He looks up at Steve while Steve walks away to find Robin, and he’s smiling again, and Nancy is rolling her eyes.

“You’re acting like he made you a personal mixtape,” she says when Steve is out of earshot. “He’s getting you a tape so you don’t die a gruesome death—“

“Listen, Wheeler, I’ve been through a lot,” he says, letting his head fall again as his eyes close. holding up a hand to shut her up. “Let me have this, please.”

“Okay, Eddie.”

She’s smiling.

—————————

Without you, my hope is small Let me be me all along

Eddie inhales slowly, feeling coming into his body. He can see bright light through his eyelids, and he feels cold, but something warm is touching his hand.

Let the fires rage inside Knowing someday I'd grow strong

Fingers playing with his, tracing them, running across his knuckles, squeezing and massaging and holding gently. The music that's playing is quiet, like it’s coming from headphones instead of a speaker, and Eddie’s lips twitch into a smile when he recognises the song.

Without you, without you

His hand finally shifts, his fingers twitching, and the hand holding his tightens as weight makes the bed he’s on shift.

“Eddie?”

Eddie exhales, squeezing his hand a little bit and turning his head. The pillow he’s laying on is really soft, and he hears his hair scratch over the fabric.

“Hey, Stevie,” he says weakly. His voice is scratchy and rough and almost unintelligible, and it hurts to speak. He winces. Feeling seeps back into his body, and he groans.

“You okay?” Steve asks softly, and his other hand is touching Eddie’s face, tracing his cheek lightly.

“My whole body hurts,” Eddie grumbles, closing his eyes again.

“Yeah, no shit, moron,” Steve says, but he’s laughing a little, and Eddie snorts, coughing. He turns his head so he isn’t coughing into Steve’s face.

“Fuck.”

“You’re gonna be okay,” Steve says softly.

Eddie sighs, relaxing into the bed as Steve touches his face again, squeezing his hand. His fingertips brush over his forehead and cheek and the bridge of his nose.

But with you in my life You're the reason I'm alive

Eddie slowly turns his head toward the music, squinting in the bright lights of the hospital that reflect off the sterile walls and while blankets that are covering his body. There’s a walkman next to him on the bed, the chord of the headphones tangled as the music plays quietly but loud enough to be heard. Eddie closes his eyes again, smiling softly.

“I was hoping you wouldn’t mind glam metal,” Steve says. Eddie can hear his smile. “Pretentious fucker.”

Eddie laughs weakly again, coughing.

“I don’t mind,” he whispers.

He turns his face into Steve’s palm and kisses it. And then his face flushes with heat as Steve leans down and presses his lips to his forehead. He wants to hide behind his hair, but he’s too tired to reach up to pull it across his face, and then he doesn’t really want to hide as Steve smiles at him with this softness in his eyes that no one’s ever looked at Eddie with before.

“I thought they were gonna follow us through,” Eddie says quietly. “The— The bats. ‘S why I stayed.”

Steve squeezes his hand.

“I told you not to be a hero,” he whispers.

“I know, I’m sorry.”

Steve kisses his forehead again, and then he leans over Eddie, pressing their foreheads together.

“You’re okay,” he breathes, so softly that it seems like it’s to himself.

Eddie sighs, focussing on the pressure of Steve’s forehead against his, of Steve’s fingers twisted around his. He smells like expensive soap, citrusy and warm.

“You wanna go to a Sabbath gig with me someday?” he mumbles. Steve laughs softly.

“Yeah. Sure.”

“Cool.”

[todayisafridaynight]

[golden-headband]

ESAU Red Son x reader experiencing shark week.

ESAU belongs to @emelinstriker (also thank you for suggesting the shark week name.)

Red Son finished the last touch on Masters favorite treat, turning to them and watching how they finally revealed their face buried in the counter at the clink of the plate. A uneasy but genuine smile on their face. "Thank you. You're my hero." Came their tired voice. Much more cheery than before. Easing the Red Champion.

Red Son spotted Macaque peering into the kitchen. Wukongs head just above his. His blank but slightly worried expression contrasting Macaques near-to-tears look.

"Is Master okay?" The Purple champion asked.

"Im better." They sighed, somewhat more contently than before. A small smile on their face already easing the champions. They had asked Macaque to give them space while they let the painkillers kick in. But it was eating their comfort food that was helping the most. And they seemed a bit self conscious about how they ate during this time. Like they were worried any of it would get on the champions if they got too close. Did they think themselves a messy eater? Not that any of them would have minded.

"Have you tried putting something warm on where it hurts?" Came Wukongs calm voice. But those who have known him could trace the concern for their Master.

"Mm. I have my hand on it." Their Master responded. But Red Son could hear the nervous twitch of Macaques tail.

"Is Master going to be okay?" Turning, he saw MKs usual blank stare shifting to concern as he poked his head out from the left side of the door opposite to the two monkeys. Then came Nezhas’ hand reassuringly ruffling MKs hair as he walked by. "Master will be alright. They know themselves enough to tell us if they need anything." The Pink champion assured him. Red Son spotted the way Wukong turned and looked at Nezha before he approached their Master. "You took the pain medicine over an hour ago, and you still look like you have discomfort. How long does it usually take for them to take effect?"

"Mm. If I distract myself then... An hour or two?" Their Master mumbled, hiding themselves behind their hand as they tried cleaning up their face. Maybe they felt self conscious in front of them? "I really am feeling better, I just... Dont want to move right now."

"Would it helped if you lied down?" Red Son offered.

"That would just keep the blood from flowing down." Red Son winced. He still remembered that morning, how quickly Macaque went from talking teasing Nezha to turning his head in the direction of their Master before diving into a portal. Nezha quickly went to their master and before Red Son could do anything, MK tugged on his cape and asked what a star meant on their Masters calendar the previous month.

Whatever panic was in him then had immediately drained. Macaque and Nezha looked like their Master was in mortal Peril. The prior had an expression like he had smelled their Masters Blood. Now Red Son knew why.

Ever since then, Red Son had been baking up chocolate treats and anything that he noted their Master had praised as their comfort food. And their Master kept an eye on the clock for when to take pain killers. Their usual schedule had been as soon as they woke up, around noon. And right before bed.

The other Champiosn offered other tips their previous masters had tried during this time. (The ones who experienced this endurance at least) and while Master looked like they were considering some, they didnt look like they were ready to explore anything then. "Thank you but, I think I just need to relax."

No matter how many times they experienced this, they always felt absolutely helpless for their master in these moments.

It didn’t help that it had been so hot they didnt even want to cuddle anyone. And Red Son could clearly see the effects that was having on Macaque.

Master opened their eyes and saw the line of worried faces surrounding them. Macaque and MK peering over the counter, Red Son across from them, and Wukong and Nezha standing nearby. They let out a soft sigh before sitting up. "Really though. Thank you guys. I appreciate it. I really do." And they could feel you were telling the truth. "Hey. Macaque. Why dont you share one of your stories? I get lost in the way your shadows move. I think it might distract me." Macaques face immediately lit up. And he began making preparations.

~

They all eventually found themselves with the Master sitting in the middle, MK laying his head on their lap and earning pets while Wukong sat beside them, his cloak placed over them, watching Macaque while Red Son found himself laying his head next to MK. Evidently. Their master had memories of family members laying on their lap. This soothed them.

And Red Son knew this was close to where their pain was. He could tell just laying here, their Masters pain was subsiding. Red Son closed his eyes contently as Macaques shadows changed the scene in a beautiful way. Enjoying this closeness.

"Nezha.” Came their Masters voice, much softer this time, no pain or discomfort. “You know you can enjoy this with us right?" He heard Master call, knowing they were smiling to the Pink Champion they had been wanting to loosen up a little more. The red champion opened his eyes to see the Pink Champion hesitate in entering the room. But eventually did. And Red Son knew their master was holding his hand thankfully. And he very much knew Nezha was happy.

Each champion had a moment of feeling their Masters hand. Petting MK, petting Red Son, squeezing Wukongs hand, and holding Nezhas.

By the end of Macaques play, Master had praised him happily. And Red Son didn’t have much time to move when the Purple champion last and nuzzled into their Master, nearly crushing him in the process.

[141trash]

rating: sfw (brief mentions of sex, but no graphic anything)

Captain John Price x Reader

AN: Somehow this ended up with very little actual Price in it, but I have plans and he will be more prominent. I just have word vomit rn and needed to get everything down

imagine having a one time fling with Price after your husband leaves you for another one because you just can't seem to get pregnant and he wants a family.

It was a good romp, he was a bit gruff, but was super sweet afterwards with the aftercare. he even stayed to buy you breakfast the next morning. Months later you've been focused on yourself, getting your life together and learning what it means to move on.

Only you've been feeling rather ill the last couple days. And then you remember you're late. Which isn't entirely unusual, sometimes you miss a period when you're stressed and the last couple months finding your feet have been stressful. Still you go to the doctors and its there you remember your night with Price, definitely can't remember if he used a condom or not, and you know you hadn't been on birth control since previously you'd been trying for a baby.

Oops you're pregnant.

The timeline fits that it's his and not your now ex-husband's and part of you is instantly hugely relieved about that.

You leave the doctor's office in a bit of a daze. It doesn't sink in until you're stumbling your way into the cafe you own/manage and you promptly dissolve into a fit of tears in the backroom, much to your teeny bopper part timer's utter horror.

Pregnant. You're fucking pregnant. You're elated, over the moon because you had always wanted kids. (yeah adoption's a thing, but in some places its really hard to adopt if you're single and you weren't ready for another relationship after the last trainwreck). You're also fucking terrified because holy shit you have no plan. Nothing is ready. You live in a tiny flat in the city with one bedroom because why would you need more than that?

Your friend appears in the back room as your mind is going a million miles a minute, turns out your part timer had panicked and called her. You breakdown again in her arms and tell her the news. She reminds you that you're not alone even though you're not in a relationship and that you will have all the support that you need.

With her help you start to prepare for the baby. Things move quickly, you're so busy getting things ready, searching for a larger flat, buying things, filling your head with every single bit of parenting knowledge you can get your head on. All your regular customers say that you're glowing, they've never seen you happier.

You've recorded every little thing since finding out you were pregnant. kept print outs of every scan. More than once you find yourself staring out the window, guiltily wondering about whether or not Price would have wanted to know. Not that you have any way of contacting him. You knew he was military, from the dog tags he'd had hanging around his neck, but not much more.

The first time you feel the baby kicking is when you're in the middle of a shift. Its the slow time of day so you're cleaning up the tables when you gasp suddenly. The girl behind the counter is by your side in an instant, babbling questions making sure you're okay. She's sweet and like your friend has been beside you since you found out.

"I'm fine Cally. The baby kicked." you announce, beaming brightly. She squeals and begs to be allowed to feel next time the baby kicks. Before you can do more the bell above the door dings and you both automatically turn, your customer service smiles back on. Only.

"John?" Your mouth drops open in surprise. Standing there looking oddly sheepish is the man you hadn't thought you'd ever see again. The man whose baby was currently kicking as if demanding your attention.

His eyes sweep over you appreciatively, though when he sees your obvious pregnancy he freezes. The shock of seeing him makes your legs weak. Cally lets out a panicked yelp when you knees buckle, but he's already darting forward, catching your arms gently and helping you to a seat.

"Careful there sweetheart." he says and god does that warm your chest. You remember the last time you heard him say that, it had been when you'd bumped into him in the bar.

"What are you doing here?" you ask breathlessly as Cally scurries off to get you a drink and he glances at you for permission before pulling a chair up next to you.

"Remembered you talking about your dream of opening a café. When i got back to town I spotted the name nd wondered if it was just a coincidence." he tells you, but you can see his eyes keep drifting towards your stomach. He's obviously trying to figure out if its his. But it takes a moment for you to respond because you can't believe that he remembered that. It'd been an offhanded comment you'd made while the two of you had been enjoying late night takeout before going at it another round.

Shaking yourself out of your thoughts you put a hand over his, biting your lip, "Listen. I. I don't want you to feel obligated or anything. I would have told you sooner only I didn't have any way to contact you."

"It's mine." he says for you. You nod, cursing inwardly when tears start to sting your eyes.

You take a deep breath to calm yourself.

"Like I said. I'm doing fine. I don't expect anything from you. I've got a plan. I'm looking for bigger flats."

He stares at you in silence, expression unreadable. You worry for a minute about what he's going to say. You've been prone to overthinking everything since becoming pregnant and now suddenly having the father of your child reappearing in your life. It's a lot.

John squeezes your hand gently halting the panic as you look back up at him.

"I would very much like to be able to meet the kid when they get here. If you'd let me." he tells you hesitantly, "Being in the Military I don't know how often I'd be able to be around, but if you let me I'd like to be in their life."

All of your emotions flood you like a tidal wave at his confession. You burst into tears, letting him pull you into a firm, but careful hug.

"Yes. Of course. I just didn't want you to feel like I was pressuring you. You have every right to know them too." You promise tearfully, smiling at him as he thumbs the tears from your cheeks.

He insists on exchanging numbers so he can contact you and in case you need anything. He won't always be able to answer, but he promises to do his best. Then he bashfully asks if you'll tell him about what's happened so far. Shyly you tell him you've written the entire experience and kept the scans.

He eventually leaves you to get back to work, but the copy of the ultrasound photos you kept in your wallet is tucked into his jacket pocket and he promised to meet you at your flat for dinner and to collect your pregnancy journal so he can catch up on everything.

[bleue-flora]

You know, I feel like we don’t talk enough about how sensitive and painful scar tissue is. Maybe because most people haven’t had stitches and huge, deep cuts. But let me just share as someone who’s had quite a few surgeries and injuries, scars are really tender. Like I cut the side of my pinky pretty deeply and I couldn’t wear rings on my ring finger for like a year because the ring rubbing against it hurt so much. And after I got my eyebrow stitched up, I couldn’t pencil my brow for about a year and whenever my sunglasses bumped against it, it hurt so badly. The surgery scar I have on the base of my thumb from when I was 4 years old still hurts if I’m stretching or using my thumb too much. The bigger the scar the worse it is too, which makes sense. I have two scars about half a foot long on the inside of both of my knees and they took forever to not be super painful to touch, even now they can be a little sensitive. All that to say, even when a character’s injuries are healed they would still have a lot of pain and tenderness going on from any sort of touch, even months after, especially in the places with the most nerves. Just something to think about…

[nottheweirdest]

thoughts on the batman shadow x joker sonic? literally thought to myself.. "oh, this is fanfic material i KNOW people are gonna write about this" and you came to my mind 😭

First off, I am HONORED that I came to mind for this!! My little sonadow brainrot brain is always coming up with new ways for our favorite idiots to fall in love. With that being said I actually struggle with this ship 😅

The Joker isn't someone that I can swap Sonic with. Their personalities are two different. I see The Joker as being more of a match for Scourge.

At their core, I see Sonic and Shadow as the grumpy sunshine trope. While Batman is definitely a good match for Shadow, the Joker has a layer of cruelty (amongst other things) that Sonic doesn't fit. DC universe wise, I see this more as a Batman/Superman thing.

You have the traditional, optimistic, fight for what's right, defend the defenseless orphan (at least biologically) and then you have Batman whose trauma haunts him, who seems the type to cross the line for the greater good, and who is emotionally closed off. These two characters don't have what I would say is a traditional rivalry, but they do square off before they realize they're on the same side (I'm going off mostly DC movie lore guys, don't come at me).

Just my two cents!

[dragonanon]

can you do a chapter based on your Death!Reader and God!Brother hcs where Death wakes up from her sleep and goes to Heaven to check up on her brother's children and everyone is obviously terrified of her?

Hmmm…I’m not typically one to do requests because the urge to write is so sporadic and random for me. BUT I have been thinking about the initial confrontation in Heaven for a while now, so here are some head cannons for that. >w>

——

- It’s a typical perfect day in Heaven…Until it isn’t. Having seen what had become of your realm and learning Heaven was to blame for it, you’re on your way to rip someone a new asshole.

- Screams erupt from the Angels as the ground begins to shake and the bright sky darkens. Sera and Emily rush out just in time to join the Angels in watching in abject terror as a massive pool of darkness forms on the ground, and from it slowly rises a menacing figure.

- The figure is massive, and it only continues to rise until even the tallest building barely reaches its hips. Its six long horns twist and arch toward the sky, only making the figure appear even taller. Upon reaching its full height, the figure spreads its six mighty wings, each one sporting a menacingly sharp claw and all as shrouded in darkness as the rest of the figure.

- As its wings blot out the sun further, the figure opens its many blazing white eyes; two where you’d normally expect to see eyes, a third in the center of its forehead, and dozens more scattered across its wings and body.

- Sera lost all color as soon as she saw the figure rising, and somehow lost even MORE color when the figure opened all of its eyes. She looks like she shit herself, and Emily is panicking, trying desperately to get Sera to tell her what’s going on; she’s never seen the older Seraph look so terrified.

- With this unimaginably imposing figure now looming over Heaven, Adam decides this is the PERFECT time to attack, having been dumb enough to think this was a Demon attacking Heaven.

- The exorcists fly up towards the figure, ready to attack. This only angers the figure further however, and with a rumble that shakes the ground itself, the figure merely flaps its wings; creating a gust of wind so powerful it knocks all the exorcists back onto the ground.

- It’s at this point Sera FINALLY snaps out of it, rushing to Adam in mad panic and damn nearly strangling him while telling him to call off the exorcists. Which he does, albeit with some reluctance.

- This doesn’t stop him from asking Sera what gives, and her response is “Adam you absolute fucking fool, that is DEATH!”

- Now it’s Adam’s turn to look like he shit himself. “Death? As in, “the big man himself’s younger sister” Death?? As in, “the baddest bitch you’ve EVER seen, but can kill ANYTHING by just touching it” Death??? THAT fucking Death????” Ignoring that last statement, Sera’s frantic nodding in confirmation confirms to Adam that he has indeed fucked up. Big time. Adam then proceeds to lose all color in his face and practically cowers behind Sera as she cautiously approaches you, mentally preparing herself to be reaped on the spot.

- Back to your perspective however, you’re fucking PISSED. So pissed that you don’t even notice or stop to think that most of Heaven’s inhabitants likely have NO CLUE who you are, and are likely legitimately fearing for their lives. Meanwhile for all the older Angels and Angelic beings who’ve been alive long enough to have known you before you went to sleep, like Sera, they’re all still very much afraid, but it’s more in line with the “oh shit mom’s home early and she saw the mess we made in the kitchen, she’s gonna kill us!” kind of fear.

- The fact that they sent exorcists at you makes you even angrier. Like for starters, how fucking weak do they think you are that you could be stopped by just some low level Angelic beings with pointy sticks?? And then the audacity to even attack you to begin with, like THEY weren’t the ones who fucked up and you’re just some kind of strange intruder needing to be slain?? The INDIGNITY of it all!

- Your voice booms throughout Heaven, making even the ground tremble at the sheer intensity of it. “WHO DID IT?” You’re met with only silence, so you ask again with more force. “MY REALM IS A COMPLETE MESS WITH MILLIONS OF DISPLACED SOULS RIGHT NOW. SO AGAIN I ASK, WHICH ONE OF YOU FLAT FOOT CHILDREN DID THIS?!”

- Sera replies, voice trembling slightly. “Are…Are you talking about the exterminations? “IF THAT IS WHAT YOU’RE CALLING THIS MOCKERY OF MY WORK, THEN YES.” Sera looks visibly confused and concerned. “But…That SHOULDN’T be possible!…The exterminations KILL the Sinners; their souls should be gone, not stuck in Limbo! There has to be some kind of mistake here!”

- Hearing this, you can’t help but let out a brief but harsh cackle, making the ground jolt from the abruptness. “DEAR YOU HONESTLY THINK A SOUL COULD BE SO EASY TO DESTROY? A SOUL IS A POWERFUL THING FOR A REASON CHILD, IF THEY WERE SO EASILY DESTROYED THEN NONE OF YOU WOULD BE STANDING HERE BEFORE ME NOW!…SO ONCE AGAIN, WHO. DID. THIS?! AND SO HELP ME, IF I HAVE TO ASK AGAIN THERE WILL BE CONSEQUENCES.”

- Whilst Sera is dumbfounded by this revelation, Adam sees a golden opportunity to save his ass and points at Sera. “I-It was her! Yeah it was all fucking HER idea! I-I tried to tell her it was stupid, b-but she just REALLY wanted to go down and kill those bast- Demons! Yeah she REALLY wanted to kill all those poor Demons, can ya fucking believe this shit?!”

- Before Sera can defend herself, the darkness seems to intensify, and she can just FEEL every one of your eyes glaring daggers into her. “SERA…YOU SIGNED OFF ON THIS?? YOU SHOULD BE ASHAMED OF YOURSELF, I EXPECTED SO MUCH BETTER FROM YOU! I LEFT EXPLICIT INSTRUCTIONS FOR HEAVEN AND HELL TO WORK TOGETHER TO SORT SOULS FOR THIS VERY REASON! AND NOW BECAUSE OF THESE BARBARIC “EXTERMINATIONS”, YOU’VE COMPLETELY DESTROYED THE BALANCE I WORKED SO HARD TO CREATE AND MAINTAIN. I HOPE YOU’RE PROUD OF YOURSELF, BECAUSE I’M CERTAINLY NOT!”

- It’s a strange and mildly amusing sight to see the head seraph get scolded like a misbehaving child by this massive dark entity. But here we are anyway!

- At one point during the tongue lashing you’re giving to your niece, Emily buts in and asks for an explanation for what’s going on; having not heard Sera’s previous explanation to Adam apparently.

- Your temper flares for a brief moment, and you just about launched into another lecture at the little shit who DARED interrupt you. But upon seeing Emily, you softened considerably, seeing that she was young and TRULY didn’t understand what was happening.

- “AH…I APOLOGIZE DEAR, BUT I DON’T THINK I RECOGNIZE YOU…COME CLOSER LITTLE ONE SO I CAN SEE YOU.” You slowly crouch down and lower your hand, offering Emily to climb onto it. Emily is hesitant, obviously a bit scared of you. But Sera encourages her to go to you, she knows that you won’t hurt Emily and it’s high time she meets her aunt anyway.

- With the small seraph in hand, you stand back up to your full height and bring her closer to your face. Now FINALLY able to see her properly, you speak. “YOU’RE FAIRLY YOUNG FOR A SERAPH…YOU MUST’VE BEEN BORN DURING MY SLUMBER, AND IN THAT CASE I APOLOGIZE THIS HAD TO BE OUR FIRST MEETING. TELL ME, WHAT IS YOUR NAME CHILD?”

- Her voice trembling slightly, Emily tells you her name and then asks who you are and asks if you’re a seraph like her and Sera. The innocent question gets a genuine laugh out of you, and despite it shaking the ground it’s a lovely sound. “OH CHILD, I AM FAR FROM BEING A SERAPH. THOUGH I CAN SEE WHY YOU WOULD THINK THAT. YOU WERE ALL MADE IN MY IMAGE AFTER ALL.”

- Seeing the visible confusion on Emily’s face, you elaborated. “LONG AGO, YOUR FATHER WANTED TO SHOW HIS APPRECIATION OF ME. SO FOR HIS FIRST SENTIENT CREATIONS, THE SERAPHIM, HE BASED THEM ALL ON ME.” Emily looks surprised, and follows up by asking how you know God.

- You give another genuine laugh at her question. “SWEETY I’M HIS YOUNGER SISTER, I AM “DEATH”, THE GODDESS OF WELL…DEATH. BUT YOU CAN CALL ME “D” OR “AUNT D”, MOST OF YOUR SIBLINGS DO.” Emily’s mind is blown “Wait! YOU’RE aunt D?! Sera told me all kinds of stories about you before you went to sleep, like the time you got into an argument with Father over his invention of the “Snuggie”. I never thought I’d get to meet you!”

- “IT WAS LITERALLY JUST A BATHROBE YOU WORE BACKWARDS, AND I STILL CAN’T BELIEVE HE THOUGHT THAT WAS AT ALL CLEVER.” You huff, feeling amusement and mild irritation at that memory.

- “SPEAKING OF YOUR FATHER, WHERE IS HE?” Sera speaks up, having managed to recollect herself, and explains that no one has seen or heard a word from God since before you went to sleep.

- The irritated snarl that leaves your throat sounds like thunder and shakes the ground, making everyone tremble with fear. “THAT LAZY BASTARD HAD ONE FUCKING JOB, WATCH HIS DAMN KIDS, AND HE COULDN’T EVEN DO THAT?! NO WONDER THIS ALL HAPPENED THEN, HE LEFT YOU ALL UNSUPERVISED!”

- Bending over, you carefully set Emily down before standing back up. “I HATE TO CUT MY INTRODUCTION SHORT, BUT APPARENTLY I NEED TO GO AND HAVE A LITTLE CHAT WITH YOUR FATHER.” You stare pointedly at Sera and continue. “DON’T THINK THIS MEANS YOU’RE ENTIRELY OFF THE HOOK EITHER. WHILE YES, YOUR FATHER’S ABSENCE IS MOSTLY TO BLAME FOR THIS DEBACLE, YOU ALSO KNOW BETTER THAN TO DO SUCH TERRIBLE THINGS. WE WILL BE DISCUSSING THIS MORE ONCE I FINISH WITH YOUR FATHER, AND IF I COME BACK AND FIND OUT YOU HELD ANY MORE OF THESE “EXTERMINATIONS” I WILL TURN YOU INTO A HOLLOW! DO I MAKE MYSELF CLEAR?” Looking at the ground, Sera nods and says “Yes Auntie D…”

- Satisfied with that response, you bid everyone farewell and slowly melt back into the ground, completely disappearing. Once you’re gone, the sunlight is back and it’s as if you were never there.

- Now the seraphim have to soothe the murmuring crowd while Sera starts attempting to get in contact with Lucifer to let him know that “Hey Aunt D found out about the exterminations and is NOT happy about it. She just got done yelling at me, and now she’s on her way to go read Father the riot act. Just warning you now because once she’s done with him, you’re probably gonna be next.”

- Lucifer receives the message and is now frantically trying to create peace offerings in hopes they’ll make you more amicable, while also preemptively planning his own funeral in case the peace offerings don’t work.

- Meanwhile in God’s palace, God is currently relaxing in an elaborate hot tub and watching American football on an absurdly large TV whilst drinking wine like it’s water. He’s pretty drunk and having a grand time yelling at the TV.

- His fun is interrupted through by you literally kicking in the door and storming in, you’ve shrunken down to your smaller size so all your features are actually visible now and not covered in darkness as you glare at your older brother with an intensity that could peel paint.

- God startled momentarily before seeing it’s you and giving you a dopey smile. He’s also in his smaller form, so that makes things slightly easier for you. “Ohhh heeeyyy Death!…You startled me thereee…It’zzzz beeen awhillle, huh?” You scoff at his slurred speech, in disbelief that he could be so drunk right now.

- “Yes, it HAS been awhile. Good to see that you still choose to spend your days getting completely wasted instead of tending to your children.” You answer tersely, and God rolls his eyes. “Zzstill the saaame old ssstuck up bitch…Tha kidzz are fahine Deee! Yyyoou should cohme haave ah drink wib meee.”

- You ignore God’s offer for a drink and cut right to the chase. “No, your kids are NOT fine! When was the last time you checked in on them?! Do you even know what they’re up to right now??!” God dismissively waves his hand and chugs more wine. “I juzzt checked on thhhem ah couple decades aghooo..They’rrre prohably makinnn neeewh liffe.”

- “God that is a load of shit, and you know it! I was JUST down in Heaven, and the seraphim told me that you haven’t seen or spoken to ANY of them since I left to take my nap eons ago! And furthermore, while you’ve been in here drinking the day away, your children have COMPLETELY destroyed the balance we created! They’ve been mass slaughtering Demons annually for millennia now, and Limbo is a complete disaster right now because of this!” Hearing this, God looks down at his bottle of whine, embarrassed, and mumbles an awkward “oh”.

- Silence hangs heavy in the air for a moment before God clears his throat and says. “Zzsooo…You’rrree NNOT gooing to drink wiff me?” At this you snap and snatch the wine bottle from God and chuck it at the TV, smashing the bottle and the TV. God shouts in anger but before he can ask you wtf that was for, you just lay into him. Calling him a deadbeat and pathetic excuse of a deity.

- “How can you just sit in here day after day, while your CHILDREN are out there causing such mayhem! Do you not love your children all??!” God is shouting back at you, his anger having sobered him up some so he’s not slurring as much. “How DARE you accuse me of not loving my children! I would giive ANYTHING for them and you know that!”

- “Then fucking ACT like it!! Don’t just sit in here and rot your mind with booze and TV!” God growls. “I don’t need you to tell meee how to handle my children! Why do you even care?! It’zzz not like they’re yours anyway!”

- “I care because they are part of MY family, and I want my family to be safe and happy, something that you couldn’t give less of a shit about apparently!” God throws his hands up at this point “Well what do you want from me Death, go hhhold their handz?! My children are ALL capable of thinking and being on their own, they don’t NEED me to do shit for them!”

- “That doesn’t mean that they don’t still need you there emotionally! But with the way you act maybe it’s best you ARE never there! After all, what use could any of them get from your pathetic drunk ass!!” This clearly struck a nerve as God points back at the door you came in through and roars at you to get the fuck out of his house. Growling, you give a harsh “Fine!” and tell him he can sit and be a drunk deadbeat all he wants because you’re done with him and his shit, and he’s NEVER to contact you again unless it’s in regards to his children or business.

- You stomp out of God’s palace and return to Limbo, wanting to start working on getting things cleaned up and cool off some before you go check on things in Hell.

- Once you’re gone though, God slumps his shoulders and hangs his head. With your venomous words echoing his head, he summons another bottle of wine and begins chugging it while he trudges into his bedchambers.

- He flops down onto the bed and picks up a framed photo and slowly brings it closer to his face. It’s an old photo, one taken shortly after God created the first few seraphim. You and God are both standing next to each other, arms around each other’s shoulders and leaning in close while the first seraphim all stand in between the two of you. Everyone is absolutely beaming, and God looks especially happy; so proud of his creations.

- Tears drop onto the photo as God remembers how things used to be back then, back when he was actually NEEDED by those around him and wasn’t just some brand figure who’s only job is to smile and wave. Even as he slowly sets the photo down, tears continue to fall and he holds his head in his hands. “…I’m sorry I’m so damn useless…Hopefully you’ll forgive me someday…Not that I deserve it though…I’m…so fucking sorry…” No one is there to hear God’s sobs, and eventually he passes out. He’d rather be dreaming of happier times anyway.

[shigayokagayama]

ok all the people saying that they felt like the alien arc ruined the flow of the ending is kind of fascinating because to me to always felt like kind of the perfect set up for the confession arc?

like on top of being lighthearted and low stakes compared to the arcs surrounding it (can you really imagine the emotional turmoil of going right from the broccoli arc to the confession arc???) the character arcs that takenaka and tome go through directly mirror what mob has been going through.

takenaka realizing his powers arent a burden and can be useful is a realization that mob has already come to and tome realizing that SHES not a burden and her friends like and support her for who she is and shes allowed to have her own wants and needs is the journey that mob is just about to make

also them actually meeting aliens is kind of important for a less obvious reason but one you come to after rereading/rewatching this series waaaaaay too many times

every main character gets what ive been referring to in my head as a ���want vs need” arc: teru with his introduction, ritsu with the big cleanup arc, reigen with the separation arc, dimple with the broccoli arc, tome with the alien arc, shigeo with the confession arc. all of these arcs, to some extent, take a character and give them what they THINK they want to see what they really want.

teru’s is a bit of a deviation because he has what he thinks he wants from the beginning: popularity, people respecting and fearing him. but through his breakdown you see what he really wants, what he really needs is self confidence. and then every arc follows that same sort of pattern: ritsu wants powers, but he really wants his relationship with his brother to go back to how it was. reigen wants to be someone (popular, famous), but what he really wants is to be something to someone. dimple wants to be a god, but what he really wants is to be acknowledged.

and then we get to tome. tome wants to meet aliens so damn bad. she thinks that all of her time with the telepathy club has been wasted, that they dont really care about her or her interests and have just been using her to laze around and goof off and shes running out of time to get what she wants. when her friends invite her to summon aliens with her, she thinks that theyre messing with her, or shes tricked them into going along with her delusions, or theyre doing this out of pity, or anything to convince herself that what she wants isnt important and she should just give up and go back to not acting on her wants for the sake of everyone elses comfort.

and learning takenaka is actually a telepath through him reading her mind dispels some of that, sure, and if they hadnt met aliens it wouldnt have been a waste of time because it was something they all did together which is what counts. but them actually meeting aliens and going on a ufo and then doing the exact same thing theyve always done together, laze around and eat snacks and play games, was what she needed to realize that none of their time was wasted. she wanted to meet aliens, and like every other characters arc before her she got that, and through getting it she realized what she really wanted was to spend time with her friends before she graduated and didnt get to see them as much.

[things-about-cars-in-posts]

hey silly question maybe. do you know why cars are so boring now? like im on the wikipedia page for the cadillac eldorado for Reasons and it's a really visually interesting car through all the generations up until like. the tenth in 1979 when it just kinda looks like. every other car (if a bit more square) is this just like, the Capitalism Thing of shit getting more and more boring and samey over the years? or is there like a reason. idk much about cars but this has always annoyed and confused me, i miss interesting looking cars :(

Well, it should be noted that the tenth generation Eldorado's case is a peculiar one. As I've gone over, old American cars tended to be refreshed every other year, and the Eldorado, meant to represent the top of the top of that uniquely American idea of opulence, was perhaps the car most supposed to do so. Hence, as you'll have found, its ninth generation launched in 1971, just 18 years after the first - thats' how long the only generation of Italy's best selling car at the time, the Fiat 500, was sold for.

You wouldn't have expected that generation to stick around for more than four years - no other generation did, and almost all lasted half that. However, 1973 had other plans. Namely, the fuel crisis that completely eviscerated demand for mastodonic fuel guzzlers.

Sales would decline the following years, with little tweaks here and there but no major update, which would have been money down the drain as existing owners could barely afford to fill up the damn things, let alone upgrade, and what were potential customers before couldn't afford to fill up the damn things full stop. So when the new model finally came, this big aspirational car was shrunken down to get on with times of shrinking aspirations.

Nigh on 5.20 meters (for yankees, that's roughly 4/207ths of a Titanic) will hardly seem short to European sensibilities, but let's remember, that's coming from 5.70. You could walk between two walls that far apart. The width, too, decreased by a whole 20cm (for yankees, that's roughly half a rabbit), which in car width terms is massive - like, it's the difference between a Mini and a Mustang.

This to say, the tenth generation Eldorado is oft maligned as a fall from grace, one of the most popular examples of why the malaise moniker stuck to this era of American cars - so not exactly the fairest assessment of how cars changed with time. How about, then, we start our analysis by looking at a car with a much better received update, shall we?

Of course, the Mk1 Volkswagen Golf (for yankees, that's roughly a Rabbit) was a smash hit the world over, so much so that in Mexico it remained on sale as the Citi Golf as recently as 2009(!), and if I didn't think it the best looking Golf that ever was I probably wouldn't own one...

...but unless the only kink you're into is the Hofmeister, I don't see how the second generation's styling is such a downgrade as to bemoan the state of things. And frankly...

...maybe it's just the boiled frog syndrome, but I can't spot a point in which anything 'went wrong', so to speak. Which leads to the all-important question:

You say you miss interesting looking cars, but I do have to ask - when did they ever leave?

Have a browse of my pride post (no, really, go read it, I think it's one of my best ever) and point me to the boring cars within it, because me, I don't see any. And I suspect the reasons are similar to why you see older cars as more interesting.

For one, given the point of the post, all the cars shown are some flashy color, and each is different from every other. This, however, is increasingly becoming an anomaly as greyscale gobbles up an ever increasing share of the market, meaning on average, modern cars are less colorful, and thus less visually interesting. I've written about cause and effect of the greyscalification of cars, and suffice to say I'm not a fan of it - but I feel like that is a discussion separate from car design itself.

Then, of course, there's that those in the post are all cars that I like, so that selection was curated (albeit only by my personal taste). But that is also the case when we look back at older cars: what you see around and what you hear about is what people cared enough about to preserve and to discuss - not just in terms of models but of versions, specs and even colors. If you look at car shows like Radwood or Oblivion, which celebrate 80s and 90s cars, the very time period you referred to as the beginning of the end for interesting design looks like its heyday!

Yes, that trailer is factory.

Unfortunately, it must be said that unique and interesting cars have become fewer and fewer, as the ever increasing regulations make it even more expensive than it already was for smaller brands to emerge and the economic status of things makes it increasingly harder to justify a funky, daring picks for the biggest purchase of the average person's life - let alone the purchase of a second car, which tends to be what more extreme offerings were bought as. A brighter future seems to be ahead, though, with Toyota's incredible GR Corolla/Yaris and 86 apparently about to be joined by yet more spicy goodness and Mazda teasing a return of the rotary engined sportscar. For the twentieth time, sure, but after having seen the Motocompo revival actually happen, I am ready to kick that football.

(because you knew about the new electric Motocompacto, right?)

But there's another thing that post's selection had going for it: variety. Pretty much every car in it was in a wholly different category from all the others, and that is bound to make each car within it seem a lot more interesting than if it had been surrounded by cars of its same segment.

The survivorship bias outlined above also results in far more variety than you would find in normal traffic: even setting aside the halo car dynamic whereby the most special -and therefore most interesting- cars are usually niche offerings with very low sales figures, people tend to remember, discuss and seek out cars that represent some extreme - be it the fastest, the most expensive, the greatest, but also the slowest, the cheapest, the worst... and the tallest, the lowest, the biggest, the smallest, and so on. In short, the cars you'll find the least interest for are the everyday, quietly competent cars that make up the bulk of vehicles on the road.

Although, going far enough back in time, even those appear interesting to us, because their context's norm was so different from ours that even the cars that most adhered to it seem exotic to our sensibilities.

But when actually viewed in their own context...

...that impression tends to be stifled.

Unfortunately, it seems to me as though variety is also being stifled nowadays, with a growing share of body styles on sale becoming SUV/crossovers, and the increase in platform sharing reducing automotive outliers (for better and for worse).

And I should note: as for the other industry shifts I mentioned, the driving force isn't Big Capital or The Evil Economic System or what have you. It's the consumers. Sure, we can blame manufacturers for turning every model into a more profitable SUV, but they couldn't do this if they didn't sell, and they wouldn't do this if people didn't see them as more prestigious vehicles worth paying more for. We can blame manufacturers for killing weird car projects, but usually they get axed because people don't buy the things. Dealerships still order grey cars because no one digs their heels about having theirs yellow. So on.

So in short, old cars have always looked more interesting, because time alters our perception of them in ways that make them seem as much - and it also happens that lately the car industry has gone in the opposite direction to those alterations, causing new cars to seem less interesting. So, in short, the problem is the comparison just isn't apples to apples.

I think this is why that Golf evolution does not show any trend towards boring or away from interesting in my eyes - because it mostly strips those factors away. Here's a bunch of generations of the same car, all silver, all presented with no context bar the version before or after, all in the same body style which, for its entire history, was a common sight pretty much anywhere. (Also helps, of course, that the Golf's evolution had no wacky twists and always nailed the zeitgeist.)

This not to say that I can't complain about modern car designs - but for that, don't compare apple to apple... compare it to Microsoft.

See, I can think of many modern designs I find bland and devoid of personality, not because of a lack of styling effort but precisely due to an overabundance of it: so keen were the designers to put a crease here and a fold there and a kink somewhere to make the brand's seventh SUV set itself apart from the other six that the design became too overburdened with details to have a clear message - like a story with too many events for them to express a cohesive point.

Or, indeed, like this parody of Microsoft packaging in which their design principles are applied to the iconic, nay, legendary packaging of the original iPod.

This is an actual Microsoft video btw. This was made internally by Microsoft's marketing department.

Links in blue are posts of mine about the topic in question: if you liked this post, you might like those - or the blog’s Discord server, linked in the pinned post!

[semperama]

trick or treat🧡🧡 (idk if you want specific ish requests or not, but just in case ex husbands maxiel maybe? 👀 nothing spookier than that lol)

Always SO happy to talk about ex husbands maxiel. Here's a (possible, I can't commit this to stone) headcanon for how they end up back together (because of course they end up back together):

--

After Max retires from racing, he starts spending more time at home with his sister and mother and less and less time in Monaco, and he and Daniel see less and less of each other. Daniel had been finding excuses to show up to races, helping out with commentary and stuff, but once Max isn't there, he starts splitting his time between Australia and LA, depending on business obligations. They go from seeing each other frequently to almost never and it's--Daniel feels hollow, like he's been carved out inside, and if something hits him wrong, he'll shatter into a million pieces.

He ends up deeply depressed in ways he can't acknowledge, going through the motions of his own life. Nothing feels right anymore. Food doesn't taste right. The air doesn't feel right on his skin. He still smiles and laughs and sees his friends, but sometimes it's like he's watching his life from a distance, not really experiencing anything anymore.

Then one day he runs into Max in LA, just like he used to before they were even dating, when his heart started beating fast at the sight of him but he wasn't able to acknowledge what that meant. It hurts this time, because even after the divorce, Max always used to tell him when he was going to be in town, but this time he didn't.

(What he doesn't know is that Max has been suffering too. He only retreated into his family for comfort. He's only stayed away from Daniel because the exes-with-benefits thing started to hurt too much. He always, always wanted to ask Daniel to give him another chance, but he was too afraid Daniel would say no.)

Daniel invites Max back to his place and realizes too late how shameful it is--unwashed dishes in the sink, empty cans and bottles scattered around, clothes on the floor of the bedroom (including one of Max's old Red Bull t-shirts, which he sleeps in sometimes, even though it lost Max's smell a long time ago). But Max doesn't comment on any of it, and they fuck on Daniel's rumpled, unwashed sheets, and afterward they hold each other for a long, long time, and Daniel has to keep biting down on his bottom lip to keep from saying something he shouldn't, or shouting, or sobbing.

Max is the brave one who finally says, "I miss you," and Daniel gives in to the impulse to ask Max to stay with him for a while. Max has a flight in a couple days, but he changes it and ends up staying with Daniel for a couple weeks instead, and even though they don't talk about what it all means, Daniel feels like he's coming alive again. His chest hurts constantly--like the pins and needles of the blood rushing back into a limb that was asleep--but that's better than the numbness he had before. They fall back into their old routines, going for runs along the same routes they used to take through the hills, visiting the restaurants they loved, curling up on the couch to watch dumb movies. Daniel ignores texts and calls from friends, because he doesn't want to shatter the illusion.

Then it comes time for Max to leave, and Daniel just--can't. He thinks he might die if he has to watch Max walk out the door again. He literally will lie down on the floor and never get up again. While Max packs his things, Daniel hovers, pacing the bedroom, opening his mouth and then closing it again against words he knows he doesn't have a right to say.

Finally, finally, he lets himself croak, "I don't want you to go." Max turns to him, and his eyes are red, and his hands are balled into fists, and he says, "I will stay, if you tell me to."

They cancel Max's flight. A month later, Max goes with Daniel back to Perth. The ache in Daniel's chest goes away. His smile feels real again.

[a1asta1r]

I get so annoyed when people say that no one will ever play Moritz aswell and John Gallagher Jr (haven’t seen it said much but I have seen it said here & there) cuz like,,, have you seen Daniel Durant & Alex Boniello???

Alex vocally portrays Moritzs anxiety so well & Daniel is one of, if not my favorite portrayal of Moritz ever. Sure he didn’t have the physical anxiety that John portrayed so well, but you have to remember that Daniel was signing the entire show, and the emotion he was able to put into that is remarkable

Also, ofc no one is gonna portray Moritz like John Gallagher Jr, he originated the role on Broadway, the role will always be his, but I think to say that no one can do it like him is just,,, wrong.

Idk I love Daniel & Alexs take on Moritz and I see no one talk about it

[designernishiki]

it’s kinda funny to me how that dumb scene in kiwami 1 of majima getting shot and left for dead in the harbor was basically just added as a half-assed way to explain majima not being around for a bit of the plot, but they accidentally(?) just made it seem like start of a chain reaction where majima ended up feeling slighted and heartbroken after being abandoned like that and then lashed out about it via smashing a big truck into the building kiryu was in. and yeah that isn’t inherently a romantic thing as-is but then they go and add the part where majima grabs a hostess and performatively hits on her as in-kiryu’s-face as possible, she says she’s already in love with someone, and majima lets her go immediately, no questions asked, making a big fucking point of it just to say see THAT kiryu? I appreciate when people are HONEST about their FEELINGS. people who won’t just BACKSTAB someone who CARES about them to save themselves. is that so crazy kiryu?? huh??? anyway make it up to me get down here and fight me right fucking now

[m4gp13]

this is kind of inspired by @bvckbiter and their TA hybrid/shifter au and I love it because I love demigods being weirder! They're only HALF human.

I love the idea of demigods having a very noticeable aura around them (that they canonically have and can be canonically picked up on by other demigods) that mortals can vaguely feel, like a bad vibe, in a similar way that gods have a very strong aura of power. When Percy meets Hades, he can feel his divinity and feels like he should be deferring to Hades. Demigods could (*cough cough* should *cough cough*) have a watered-down version of this.

It lends itself really well to this sense of the 'perpetual foreigner' that demigods must experience. They're too human for their godly parents and they're too godly for the mortal world. This is why places like CHB and CJ are important. These characters can only find solace and community with each other and this is why the characters fight so hard to protect these places!

Aside from illustrating the gap between demigods and the mortal world, it also plays very nicely into the disability metaphor from which the series is built. As someone with hidden disabilities, I know how common of a thing it is for people to know there's something off with me, but they can feel it. We just have a 'weird vibe' that neurotypicals find off-putting. It's no fault of our own and it's not something we can control, this is just what we're like but it serves to push away the people around us and act as a barrier to their ability to understand us. Sound familiar????? It should! The og series is so laden with themes and metaphors surrounding hidden disabilities that this has to be intentional and I wish Rick had gone further with it.

It would have been great to see more of the completely regular mortals in the pjoverse and how they interact with this totally alien world and characters who only have one foot in each world. We should have gotten more from Paul, from Rachel, from Piper's dad, from Annabeth's stepmother (AND BROTHERS!!!)

Demigods may only be half god, but they're also only half human, and that side of their lives is criminally under-explored.