#zone dictionary

[crashbangprophet]

@ ALL CRASHQUEENS AND KILLJOYS!

i've been in this fandom since 2016, so i've seen headcanons and zone culture and terminology of all kinds.

with that said, i'd like to present the official (unofficial) danger days dictionary.

includes everything from zone culture, slang, battery city locations, phoenix witch, even down to bad luck beads and the dust bowl.

for the nitpickers out there, the comics are mainly discarded in this— due to how overwhelming it would be to throw in even MORE overlapping terms and such. some comic characters have been slipped into the regular timeline / universe, just for funsies and a honorary mention. don't come at me, thanks!

REBLOGS RECOMMENDED.

EDIT: i'm glad everyone's enjoying this! my askbox is open for any questions or suggestions, etc. headcanons/requests are also welcome :)

[c1trvswrites]

-> She Smelt of Dead Flowers...

The ripples of Gabriella's death just started to hit Miguel's shores.

read on ao3 ->

RELATIONSHIP: GEN, N/A, Gabriella and Miguel O'hara

STATUS: completed

TAGS/WARNING: Child death, character death, angst, character study/analysis, language I think, hurt no comfort, violently un-beta old crappy writing)

Gabriella smelt of the outside and the earthy tones of the dirt and grass. Always has.

Especially in the summertime where’d she spend hours and hours just out there, always coming back with a fistful of trinkets and an even more fistful of cuts and bruises. But it was all in a day’s work for a child her age.

How Miguel would lavish whatever she brought back to him like a crow gifting an old friend something new it found- from rock and marbles she just found pretty that day to old vintage pieces of jewelry.

As Miguel packed away the last pieces of cutlery he peeked over his side only to be met with a tug from someone one-third of his size trying to get his attention. “Hi mija” He kept his voice quiet and gentle, glancing softly. “Ready for dinner or still got a couple more minutes of outside left in you?” Drying off his hands he patted her head and wiped away a piece of grass stuck firmly to her face. Making sure to sneak in a quick pinch.

“Nuh-uh, I’m starving.’

“Thought so, you’ve been out there since five,” He chuckled while wrinkles fading in at the corners of his eyes. “Alright go clean up...Pilluela” Sneaking in the last part he snickered hearing Gabriella turn the corner and shoot ‘hey!’ from a distance.

The soft glow of the kitchen lights cast a warm ambiance as he carefully set the dinner table. The aroma of a home-cooked meal wafted through the air, creating an inviting atmosphere. Tonight was just like any other night- just him and his daughter, the quiet comforting in the midst of the night.

Miguel unfolded the freshly laundered tablecloth and laid it out, smoothing the fabric with a satisfied hum. The table, a simple yet sturdy little one, had seen countless dinners (after all he stole it from his mom when he moved out), each mark adding to the collection of memories, arguments, and silence. Tonight's dinner promised to be an exception. Glad it's been one for eleven years ongoing.

He reached for the set of mismatched but dearly loved plates, the clinking of cutlery echoed in the room as he carefully placed the utensils in their designated spots. Miguel took a moment to admire the arrangement.

The pièce de résistance was the centerpiece—a small bouquet of wildflowers gathered from their garden. If you were to ask him a couple of years ago had thought simple things like this were bullshit, but with age, he couldn't help but find beauty in the every day, and these flowers, with their vibrant colors, added a touch of nature to the table. He adjusted the arrangement until he was satisfied, the flowers now standing tall in a simple vase.

With the table set, he moved to the kitchen to check on the final touches of the meal. The savory aroma of roasted vegetables and the sizzle of a pan hinted at the culinary delights awaiting them.

As he returned to the table, Miguel couldn't help but smile at the anticipation of sharing this moment with his kid. He imagined her reaction when she walked into the warm, fragrant kitchen, greeted by the sight of her favorite meal. It wasn't just about the food—it was about the connection, the shared space, and the simple joy of being together.

Stage set.

Gabriella peered around the corner rushing once she got a hint as to what was being served tonight.

As they both got settled they talked about their day, just like they always did, always nothing eventful. But still very much appreciated, kinda like routine.

Miguel could never place where this conversation started but he could remember when it picked up.

“¡Ándale jefazo, dame permiso de ir a la fiesta!”

“Ni hablar.”

“But-”

“En absoluto.”

Playfully she sucked her teeth knowing that that was gonna be the answer no matter what “How come you never let me go out? If I become a socially awkward creature it’s your fault!”

“Uh, you went out today?”

“I mean like with other people, y’know?”

“Well I don’t really like your friend ‘y’know?’ He rolled his eyes and briefly smiled before speaking up again. “Now pass the butter.”

Gabriella mumbled something about him not liking any of her friends before fulfilling his request.

His hands moved along the sides of the knife slowly as he sliced into the perfectly browned loaf of bread. After that, it was the usual dinner talk, life, friends, work.

It was always the usual with them, and that was great. Their conversations were like shooting fish in a barrel, they flowed without needing a whole lot of effort or force, like second nature. That was the great thing about having a child, something unplanned but worked well. A sense of responsibility wrapped up.

That’s why when conversations began to slow down to a sharp halt one day it took him by surprise.

One day she was there one day she wasn't. but that's just how life goes right? She was gone, and he was left behind wondering where he stood.

All of a sudden those usual conversations conversation with her were switched out with visits to a funeral home.

Various packages, floral arrangements, and burial options, but Miguel’s mind floated in a sea of detachment.

Until one morning he woke up and felt raindrops hit the crown of his head.

The air in the cemetery hung heavy with a mix of grief and reverence as Miguel huddled around to bid his final farewell. The somber melody of a distant hymn provided a melancholic soundtrack to the scene. Under the overcast sky, a lone casket, adorned with flowers, rested over the open grave.

No one there to stand in a circle around the burial site, Miguel opted to grieve in private, and a sense of sorrow gripped his throat as he heaved. The priest, his words a comforting murmur, but useless to Miguel— spoke of the Gabriellas’s life—a tapestry woven with moments of joy, struggle, and the quiet beauty of everyday existence. Tears glistened on his face through shut lips.

The pallbearers, their movements deliberate and respectful, approached the casket. Each one placed a hand on the polished wood, a final gesture of solidarity with the one they carried. Slowly, almost ceremoniously, they lifted the casket and began the solemn walk toward the waiting grave.

The procession moved with a measured cadence, the weight of the moment evident in every step. Miguel’s eyes cast downward as they navigated the uneven ground of the cemetery. The sound of soft sobbing intermingled with the rustle of leaves overhead. He didn’t even recognize those sounds as his own.

As the pallbearers reached the edge of the grave, they carefully lowered the casket. The gentle descent seemed to echo the finality of the moment, a profound silence settling over the assembly. She, once vibrant and alive, now rested in the quiet solitude of the earth.

The priest offered a final prayer, a poignant farewell to the departed soul. A lone violinist, positioned at a distance, began to play a mournful tune, its haunting melody weaving through the air.

The casket, now nestled in its final resting place, a should be symbol of closure. Miguel hovered over and stepped forward with a fistful of soil and even more fistful of cuts and bruises to toss handfuls of soil onto the casket—a ritualistic gesture marking the return of Gabriella to the embrace of the earth.

As the first clumps of soil fell, a hushed stillness enveloped the scene. The quiet thud of earth against wood resonated like a heartbeat, a rhythmic acknowledgment of life's cyclical nature. Gabriella, in her eternal repose, became one with the earth.

Gabriella smelt of the outside and the earthy tones of the dirt and grass.

Always has.

[derwent]

Garbage Bandits: "стой, кто идёт?"

Me, trying to remember literally any russian or Ukrainian: "uuuh ....я геи?"

Bandit: "oh actually it's гей with a й, easy mistake to make" *shoots me*

[eggnogablog]

friend zone, shojo, upcycle

I'm stealing this from Twitter

Here's the link

I am a high-definition gateway drug body double!

[insertdisc5]

📚 A List Of Useful Websites When Making An RPG 📚

My timeloop RPG In Stars and Time is done! Which means I can clear all my ISAT gamedev related bookmarks. But I figured I would show them here, in case they can be useful to someone. These range from "useful to write a story/characters/world" to "these are SUPER rpgmaker focused and will help with the terrible math that comes with making a game".

This is what I used to make my RPG game, but it could be useful for writers, game devs of all genres, DMs, artists, what have you. YIPPEE

Writing (Names)

Behind The Name - Why don't you have this bookmarked already. Search for names and their meanings from all over the world!

Medieval Names Archive - Medieval names. Useful. For ME

City and Town Name Generator - Create "fake" names for cities, generated from datasets from any country you desire! I used those for the couple city names in ISAT. I say "fake" in quotes because some of them do end up being actual city names, especially for french generated ones. Don't forget to double check you're not 1. just taking a real city name or 2. using a word that's like, Very Bad, especially if you don't know the country you're taking inspiration from! Don't want to end up with Poopaville, USA

Writing (Words)

Onym - A website full of websites that are full of words. And by that I mean dictionaries, thesauruses, translators, glossaries, ways to mix up words, and way more. HIGHLY recommend checking this website out!!!

Moby Thesaurus - My thesaurus of choice!

Rhyme Zone - Find words that rhyme with others. Perfect for poets, lyricists, punmasters.

In Different Languages - Search for a word, have it translated in MANY different languages in one page.

ASSETS

In general, I will say: just look up what you want on itch.io. There are SO MANY assets for you to buy on itch.io. You want a font? You want a background? You want a sound effect? You want a plugin? A pixel base? An attack animation? A cool UI?!?!?! JUST GO ON ITCH.IO!!!!!!

Visual Assets (General)

Creative Market - Shop for all kinds of assets, from fonts to mockups to templates to brushes to WHATEVER YOU WANT

Velvetyne - Cool and weird fonts

Chevy Ray's Pixel Fonts - They're good fonts.

Contrast Checker - Stop making your text white when your background is lime green no one can read that shit babe!!!!!!

Visual Assets (Game Focused)

Interface In Game - Screenshots of UI (User Interfaces) from SO MANY GAMES. Shows you everything and you can just look at what every single menu in a game looks like. You can also sort them by game genre! GREAT reference!

Game UI Database - Same as above!

Sound Assets

Zapsplat, Freesound - There are many sound effect websites out there but those are the ones I saved. Royalty free!

Shapeforms - Paid packs for music and sounds and stuff.

Other

CloudConvert - Convert files into other files. MAKE THAT .AVI A .MOV

EZGifs - Make those gifs bigger. Smaller. Optimize them. Take a video and make it a gif. The Sky Is The Limit

Marketing

Press Kitty - Did not end up needing this- this will help with creating a press kit! Useful for ANY indie dev. Yes, even if you're making a tiny game, you should have a press kit. You never know!!!

presskit() - Same as above, but a different one.

Itch.io Page Image Guide and Templates - Make your project pages on itch.io look nice.

MOOMANiBE's IGF post - If you're making indie games, you might wanna try and submit your game to the Independent Game Festival at some point. Here are some tips on how, and why you should.

Game Design (General)

An insightful thread where game developers discuss hidden mechanics designed to make games feel more interesting - Title says it all. Check those comments too.

Game Design (RPGs)

Yanfly "Let's Make a Game" Comics - INCREDIBLY useful tips on how to make RPGs, going from dungeons to towns to enemy stats!!!!

Attack Patterns - A nice post on enemy attack patterns, and what attacks you should give your enemies to make them challenging (but not TOO challenging!) A very good starting point.

How To Balance An RPG - Twitter thread on how to balance player stats VS enemy stats.

Nobody Cares About It But It’s The Only Thing That Matters: Pacing And Level Design In JRPGs - a Good Post.

Game Design (Visual Novels)

Feniks Renpy Tutorials - They're good tutorials.

I played over 100 visual novels in one month and here’s my advice to devs. - General VN advice. Also highly recommend this whole blog for help on marketing your games.

I hope that was useful! If it was. Maybe. You'd like to buy me a coffee. Or maybe you could check out my comics and games. Or just my new critically acclaimed game In Stars and Time. If you want. Ok bye

[firebonbon]

Ar nar, Cleear

[sgojoenthusiast]

angel.

✧.* toji fushiguro x reader

summary:

toji who never cared where he put it before. Ass, tits, hand, mouth, pussy. It was all the same to him. Until, that is, he met you.

cw: smut, oral, blowjobs, creampie, rough, sucker for simp toji tbh, orgasm denial ish

word count: 1.7k

likes, comments & reposts are deeply appreciated! <3 enjoy.

-`♡´-

Toji who never cared where he put it before. Ass, tits, hand, mouth, pussy. It was all the same to him because the outcome was all the same. He’d come, and if she did too then that was that - he’d still get his shit together and leave before the glimmering beams of light began to intrude through the curtains and illuminate her face for just long enough for him to remember it.

To him, sex was never a romantic thing. It was simply a relief. A few brief moments of bliss before the almost immediate realisation of life dawned on him and he’d go back to his typical Monday stresses - his kid, the bills, what he was going to eat tonight, who he was going to kill.

But then, you came into his life. Oh, sweet, bewitching, perfect you. Now, his life had a purpose once more. Now, he woke up with something other than death in his bloodied, war-zone mind. He almost felt unworthy that a real-life angel had been sent to him from above - what had he done to deserve it? You were an animated depiction of the dictionary definition of beauty.

Not only had you invaded his life and imposed all of your perfect elements onto him, such as the way you cared, the way you spoke, and the way you behaved, but you had also completely disfigured the way he fucked.

He couldn’t bear the idea at first. The concept of defiling someone so utterly perfect with all of his corruption and sin was unfathomable. He was a vile guy, yeah, but not even he could tarnish such purity as yourself. However, when the two of you got back to your place after a long date, and he walked you up to your apartment for your own safety (he tells a lie - there was a very slim chance of any danger proposing itself to you in the short walk to your apartment. He simply just couldn't part your side just yet), how was he supposed to ever resist you when you turned around to face him before slowly undoing the top buttons of your blouse as you took his hand and led him straight to your room?

That night, he fucked you in every imaginable way possible - yet the idea of finishing anywhere but inside of your cunt made him feel ill, and has done ever since.

Why would he come anywhere but deep inside of your pussy? Why wouldn’t he want to fill you up to the very brim, stuffed full of his come until it was spilling out uncontrollably? The mere thought of it left him perplexed.

In moments like this, where you’re on your knees with your delicate hands gripping onto his thighs and your soft tongue gliding over the veins of his cock - he found it gruelling to refrain from spilling himself into the back of your throat.

His hand rested on your head, not applying any force to allow you to set your own pace. His head was thrown back and his eyes scrunched in a murderous delight. Every second he spent keeping himself from finishing was a second he struggled to pull you off his dick and throw you onto his sheets.

There was nothing wrong with your mouth - fuck, was there nothing wrong with your mouth - it felt like he was finally experiencing the heaven he’d never truly seen. But when he said that the thought of coming anywhere but your pussy made him ill, he meant it.

You’d asked him so nicely to suck him off, as well. Gotten on your knees the second he got home from his mission as your hands hesitantly danced around his belt, awaiting his approval. He could see the disappointment in your eyes flash for a scarce moment when he asked you to get up - yet the squeal of delight that escaped your parted lips when he scooped you up into his arms and threw you over his shoulder as he began to head for your bedroom made up for every fraction of disappointment he caused you. So how was he supposed to

“Does it not feel good, Toji?” You asked, coaxing him out of his stupor. His head snapped down to look at you with puzzlement in his eyes, asking you all the questions floating about on the tip of his tongue with just one single glance, yet you heard him all the same. “Just, you haven’t came yet and you’ve hardly made any noise.”

Guilt washed over him in waves as he stared at your saddened eyes pouting up at him in confusion. That guilt began to dim when standing next to the conflicting lust he felt at the way his cock throbbed threateningly from the way you were looking up at him with that captivating pout as your hand lazily continued to stroke his cock.

“I.. Fuck, angel. I just can’t do it.”

“What do you me-“ Before you could finish your reply, Toji had you raised in his arms once again as he tossed you onto your bed.

“I gotta cum in this pretty cunt, angel. I can’t explain it, I just have to. Please let me come in your pussy.” He pleaded with you, eyes wide and swimming in oceans of desire. When you slowly nodded up at him, still feeling the lingering surprise from the sudden switch of positions, he wasted no more time talking.

There was no room for questions, not when his tongue was being shoved down your throat and his tip was prodding your hole. How had you gotten so wet just from sucking on his dick? He almost resented himself for not tending to your own needs earlier, but if anyone else had such a filthy mouth wrapped so delightfully around their cock - they wouldn’t be able to think straight either.

A string of curses fell from his lips as he pushed himself inside of you, his forehead resting against your own as your lips parted in pleasure from the way he poked that perfect spot inside of you almost immediately.

He couldn’t ever help himself. You were so magnetic. The way you were sprawled on the mattress as he lifted himself up and threw your leg over his shoulder as he began to pound his cock deep inside of you - it was like streaks of heaven beamed down on you, worshipping you as they should.

The feeling of your pussy helplessly stretching around him, combined with his previous denial of his own orgasm was sending him into an unavoidable spiral - one he was sure he’d feel the effects of for the rest of his days. If he could spend the rest of his life with you looking so angelic underneath him as he thrusted his hardened cock in and out of your wet pussy, he would take that offer in a heartbeat - no matter the cost.

You felt so good around him, sucking him in as if it was the last thing you’d ever do. Toji was no better, his relentless pace and screwed-shut eyes demonstrated that he was losing himself in his pleasure. His hand that wasn’t wrapped securely around your leg reached down to begin stimulating your clit, toying with it so teasingly.

If Toji couldn’t handle it, then you sure as hell couldn’t. Your hands were scrambling for some sort of stability - needing something that could keep you securely in the grasp of sanity’s hands before you succumbed.

Your moans merged with Toji’s, a mixture of broken whines and disgruntled groans echoed throughout the room as you borderline began to scream around his cock - your hands quickly moving to cover your face and muffle your sounds as a sense of rationality clicked in your brain when you realised that your neighbours were most likely either having one hell of a laugh or phoning the police due to a suspected murder scene occurring in your apartment.

Toji wasn’t satisfied though. He couldn’t come outside of your pussy, and he couldn’t come without the sight of your face and the reverberating noises that left your swollen lips. When had he become so picky? He grumbled words of disapproval as his hand left your pulsating clit in order to force your hands above you - the room immediately flooding with the sound of your moans once more - much to Toji’s delight.

He could feel his impending orgasm begin to creep up on him once more, and so he wasted no time as he lifted your other leg over his shoulder and put all of his force into his harsh thrusts. His hand went back to your clit - desperate for you to finish at the same time as him. One after the other, he kept pounding and pounding your poor, abused cunt until there was nothing but a puddle of wetness and a hole practically moulded into his cock.

It was always the familiar feeling of your pussy tightening around him, signalling to him your own orgasm, that sent him those shockwaves of pleasure as he braced himself for the heavy ropes of cum that he was about to fill you up with at any given moment - his pleasure building up at an unstoppable pace as he began to pant out a warning to you.

“Fuck, angel. Gonna come in this slutty little cunt of yours, yeah? Better keep that shit in this time.” He demanded, his voice carrying an authoritative tone that left no space for discussion - not that you could when your entire body had ceased to function at the intensity of your orgasm.

Truly, there was no feeling quite like the one where he was stuffing you full of his cum. He was certain that he’d never get enough of it. Not when it had him throwing his head back with a rough groan and one of his hands gripping the sheets in a deathly hold.

He was so overtaken by his orgasm that he hadn’t processed the feeling of falling onto his back - a gentle hand pushing his chest and silk sheets embracing his back. Nothing could ever change the fact that your lips pressed against his own, could pull him out of a lifelong coma - so when he recognised the press of your soft lips against his own, his eyes sprung to life and his hands flew to your hips - which had somehow found themselves mounted over his torso.

“You wanna fill me up again, handsome?” You laughed, like a goddess above him. He doesn’t think his dick has ever gotten that hard so fast before.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

a/n: came out of hiding for this one

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟsgojoenthusiast

[thepringlesofblood]

EYYYYYYYYYY hell yeah!

in honor of the suffering game graphic novel coming out, I would like to introduce this argument from the podcast (suffering game pt 3) that got cut from the novel (understandably)

In the first battle in Wonderland, Taako wants to cast the spell "Flesh to Stone" on a regenerating poisonous slime.

Griffin disallows this, saying that slime isn't flesh.

Justin retorts that the slime is its flesh.

Travis argues that since the slime is sentient, its slime counts as flesh.

Where do you stand?

Other considerations brought up in the argument:

if the slime has skin, does that make it flesh?

Griffin notes: "if this thing had flesh it would be a bag of skin full of fuckin’ goo." to which Justin replies "What’s holding it together then, Griffin? Surface tension?"

The spell description uses the term "flesh".

Considerations I came up with:

Merriam Webster defines flesh as "the soft parts of the body of an animal and especially of a vertebrate"

the spell description for Flesh to Stone (as of 7/23/24) reads "If the target's body is made of flesh, the creature must make a Constitution saving throw."

ik griffin's the dm so whatever he says goes, this is about the argument itself, not who gets to decide what happens

clarifications below

clarifications

if you agree/disagree for multiple reasons listed, pick the PRIMARY or MOST IMPORTANT reason.

if you think flesh-to-stone could work on a slime, but not in this instance, you can pick "depends/nuance/secret 12th option"

ignore for the moment whether Taako had the spell slots for it. we all know he casts too many 6th level spells in the suffering game for it to be kosher. we're choosing to ignore that.

the adventure zone also generally ignores material components so we are too (his arcane focus would act as a substitute in this instance anyway, as the components are "a pinch of lime, water, and earth")

[coquettetoji]

{💌} BF ARMIN HCS

armin as your boyfriend hcs 😁 (fem reader)

— sigh you already know he’s the purest boy on earth so him as a boyfriend?? that’s your husband even in the first 2 weeks

— gets you “just because” flowers at least 2 times a week

— he gives you the dictionary thesaurus encyclopedia definition of PRINCESS TREATMENT.

— he will hold your hand everywhere, kneel down to take your shoes off/put them on for you, knows the side walk rule, sends you $$ without you even asking for any and oh my god he’s just so perfect.

— likes to do your hair for you regardless if your hair is pin straight or super curly, he will learn your exact routine in order to take care of it for you

— you’ll never stop hearing “why do you need to do that when i’m here?” nonstop. even for the stupidest things like getting the remote across the sofa. 😭

— his love language is words of affirmation and acts of service, he’s just always there to help you

— will trail behind you like a lost puppy at all times, literally follows you almost everywhere just in case you ever need him to do something for you

— his whole instagram feed is just you, you and you ** EXHIBIT A

— his follower ratio is also insane i’m saying like maybe 10 following (you and friends + fam) and then a good 60k followers

— most definitely has an “i ❤️ my girlfriend shirt” and wears it proudly with a pretty smile

— in public terms, he’s definitely touchy but not as touchy as when you guys are alone

— holds your hand, guides you with a hand on your lower back, has a hand around your waist, and wants you as close as possible to him in public but keeps it to a minimum

— when you guys are alone however, lord you can never get rid of him >>>

— will whine out a “where are you going? 🙁 i’ll come with you” at 3am when you need to pee.

— his favorite spots to kiss you are on your forehead, and yours cheeks, just because he likes to see your eyes go all dazed and happy when he does

— he does that hot thing where while he kisses you, you can feel the smile start to form on his lips

— his favorite pet names to call you are the typical domestic sweet and cute ones that just make your heart melt: baby, princess, love, pretty girl, calls you a good girl when praising you 😸

— your personal photographer everywhere, he knows to get all the angles and most of the pictures on your ig are taken by armin

— loves hugs, hugs are loved by him and just likes hugs, did i mention he loves hugs?

— does that thing where he hugs you from behind, slowly wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you into his chest esp when you guys are with friends or at parties

— he loves when you run your hands through his hair, he has the fluffiest softest hair ever definitely whimpers when it just feels way too good

— the most soft spoken boyfriend ever, he will never raise his voice at you even when he’s mad or upset (which is rare)

—takes you out on dates often and they’re always the best planned out dates ever (candle lit dinners, picnics

— will hold your heels in one hand after a date where your feet hurt while clutching your hand in the other

— whenever you start talking he sometimes just blanks out staring at you and how pretty you are which then just ends up with him blabbering “mhm’s” and “yeah yeah i get what you’re saying” while being completely zoned out staring at your face

— he always blushes when you show affection towards him first out of nowhere like when he’s talking to you about something and you just reach up and kiss his cheek, he’ll completely lose his train of thought.

— i’ve mentioned this before and i’ll mention it again, he’s a golden retriever boyfriend

— i mean he literally follows you around like a puppy already, he just acts like one in general whenever he’s around you

— he’s definitely a naturally quiet person around people he doesn’t know and kinda reserved but he just falls apart around you with a soft look of fondness in his blue eyes

— i just think of the childhood bestfriend trope when it comes to him or academic rivals

— he takes pride and hangs on to every single compliment you say to him. like throw one “you’re so handsome” at him and he’ll keep it like an id in his pocket

— like if eren said to him, “you’re ugly as fuck” armin will just shrug and smile saying “ _______ doesn’t think so 😁😁” just so smiley god he’s adorable

— in the domestic aspect of armin as your bf, he’s definitely super sweet and just soft with you

— breakfast in bed, cooking for you on the daily, + cleaning the dishes after too, taking care of you when sick

— helps you get dressed when you’re tired, does your hair for you, brushes your teeth for you while softly tilting your chin up between his thumb and pointer finger JUST UGH I NEED HIM SO BAD

— he will get on his knees for you any day of the week 😁 (for anything not just that guys)

— final conclusion and something i think he does that’s really cute

star moments of armin as your bf

★ keeps your hair tie on his left wrist in case you would ever need one

★ gets on his knees to take off your heels or shoes for you

★ never lets you open the car door by yourself and when helping you out or in he always kisses your forehead

★ took it upon himself to memorize every order of food or drink you have and your whole makeup collection to replace it if you ever ran out

★ cried happy tears when you told him you love him for the first time back (he defo told you before you did LMAO)

— overall just the sweetest boy and boyfriend ever 💞💞💞💕💕💓💓💗💗

[evilminji]

You know... >.>

My Dad always used to tell me, if I get a Genuine Genie(tm)? Get a lawyer first. Before I make my Wishes(tm), so they can help me word them correctly.

Obviously, a human lawyer would not be foolproof... BUT! What about a Ghost Lawyer?

Like? Obviously Desiree would be PISSED. How DARE you twist HER wish twisting! Her THING is "what you believe is your heart's desire always comes at a terrible cost" which is what she DIED to learn.

So obviously she would NEVER, willingly, bend her Obsession for ANYONE. And you'd have to make a DAMN good case to that Lawyer for why he ISNT breaking the law by helping you. Probably some "you can: save the life of an unconscious person against their will/shove an unobservant person OFF the train tracks, even if they get hurt, to save their life" clause.

Like? Using a ghosts Obsession against them? Bad. Illegal.

Using it against their will, to save OTHER ghosts, who are in immediate danger? Not illegal, but they will be PISSED. Still not great though, you will want to apologize and fast.

So like??? Reality Bending Power. Patrick Star Method of "what if we MOVED the city... somewhere else?" Considered at 1am. Team of Ghost Laywers, acquired.

Amity and all Limnals are REMOVED from the DP-verse.

Wish worded juuuuust so. Any ghost that forms there? Yoink! Instantly removed to the Zone. Natural Portals? Cut off. Let the whole Reality fade out at an accelerated rate, as no NEW energy is fed into the system. Entropy will do, what entropy does. Exactly as they wished it.

They hated Death so much, they speed up the heat death of their ENTIRE universe by Eons. Congratulations, you guys "Won". Enjoy the wildly more fragile flora, fauna, and general ecosystems. Now that none of you have that ambient Ectoplasm strengthening your bodies. Yeah, the things you used to shrug off? Those are gonna maim or kill you now.

Doesn't MATTER if you "learn your lesson" though! Cause this is WAY past that point! This is "cutting off the tumor before it kills us" territory, and buddy? Amity ISNT the tumor. Go forth a grow, just like you wanted.

They won't be here to fix your messes anymore.

Because Danny got himself a dictionary thick "I Wish..." contract. Which was worded, as it needs to be, in one loooooooong run on sentence. Shouted "I Wish what's written on THIS, as it is currently, and without any form of editing or negotiation!" As fast as he could. Yote the document in Desiree's direction. And Flew like an INCANDESCENTLY pissed off Genie was trying to set his everything of fire.

Which she was.

Thankfully, Paulina came in clutch with her History of all things Jewelry, world fashions, and Make-Up knowledge. That, coupled with the Power Of Rich Friends(tm)? (Sam. Her mother was THRILLED to take her Jewelry and clothing shopping for something other then blacks and dark purple. They went on a jet setting whurl-wind tour. Sam actually kinda liked a some of what she found.)

They have Apology Bribes.

They shamelessly HIDE behind the mountain of Apology Bribes, while they explain themselves. Is Desiree HAPPY? No. But those bracelets are magnificent and she DOES deserve nice things. Those silks will really bring out her eyes. And she... DOES... admit...

Maybe...

That things are not... SAFE. Any longer. Danny TRIES. Everyone else can see it. And he's made incredible strides! Even convinced his lunatic parents. Though they're still not quite POPULAR. (WAY too pushy and invasive with their questions, for most people.) But the fanatics in white?

They nearly killed Box Lunch. If her father hadn't BEEN there...

And the poor man will have that scar on his back for the rest of his afterlife. Desiree can see why Danny is pushing. Does she LIKE it? No. But...

She supposes she will content herself with the suffering of the Fanatics in White and all who support them. THEIR wishes, twisted. Their ugly heart's desires.

Fine.

"SO YOU WISH IT. SO IT SHALL BE!"

And? The ghost town of what WOULD of one day grown into Amity, had the witch's there not been found by those they had fled from, which sits in long rotted ruins, amongst the trees in nowhere Illinois? Poof! Two "Towns" are switched.

The roads out of town coming to a clean line stop, meeting not even goat paths. Just trees. Old growth.

But it's not ALL of Town, is it? Faces missing. New, confused, faces from every corner of the map, taking their place. No Limnal left behind. No supporter of the GIWs genocide, brought along. Family's kept together where they could be. But by the few, scared and upset, green flashing eyes of children in the crowd?

It seemed for some, it was easier to fear and hate, then love their children.

Already they were being gathered up by school teachers and PTA parents. As everyone tried to figure out what had happened. Concerned, quite muttering a dull roar as everyone tries to coordinate.

Red Huntress joins Danny and Dani in the Sky. She doesn't get a word in. Wanted to know what the HELL was going on. She was with her dad in Chicago! Dani was in Taiwan! Literally! As in, sitting in a SUBWAY station one second, the next? Outside!

But they don't get to demand those answers. Because there is a sonic boom on the horizon. And then? Floating... weird... not ghosts?

Uuuuuuhhhh?

Hi?

That much blue... sure is a Statement. Like the cape and... bloooomers? Shorts. Bikini bottoms? It.. it's a Cool Look, dude! No, really. They are being VERY supportive here! If YOU like it? That's the only thing that matters!

Red Huntress smacks the Danny/i's Repeated upside their heads and demans to know what the Not-Ghosts are doing in their airspace.

Oh YEAH. Good point! What she said! And can it WAIT? They're kinda going through A Thing right now...

Kon? Wants it on record he loves these guys. They're hilarious. The LOOK on Clark's FACE?? He wishes he could frame it. Preserve it for future generations. Thing is? There was NOT a town here a second ago.

Well, bout 30 minutes or so, but you get the idea. One moment? Tree noises. Bam! Thousands of people! Obviously the checked it out. Only to be met with two... three maybe? Heros who have NO IDEA who they are.

Clear Reality warping shenanigans. Might be time travel or multiverse. Question is... are they STAYING? And if SO? What now...

@hdgnj @ailithnight @the-witchhunter @nerdpoe @dcxdpdabbles @mutable-manifestation @hypewinter

[slayingfiction]

How I push through writing when I don't feel like writing.

Here are some of the techniques that I use to help me write more often or more consistantly when my laziness/depression/anxiety starts to take over.

I watch TV. I don't do it with the purpose of zoning out though. I watch something popular and well-liked such as the LOR or Harry Potter to get new ideas on how I can develop my story and apply their in-depth world-building ideas to help develop mine. Without plagarizing of course!!!!

Zoning out and daydreaming. As I have mentionned before, daydreaming is a huge part of my story outlining and world-building process. I'll stand in the shower, or take a walk and think about how my charcaters would act/react/behave in situations, mundane or not. Doing this gives me a better sense of my characters, and sometimes gives me ideas for scenes I use later on.

Work on writing related projects. These work well at keeping me distracted while still being productive on my writing goals. Example, I have one story I am working now, I made a new language (alphabet and numbers included) to include as a cool and fun component for the book. So, at times when I don't wan't to write, I continue creating the dictionary (very fun, 8/10 would recommend). Also, for the same book, my characters don't work off the Georigian calendar and 24 hour clock, so I've been working at creating a new calendar (harder than it seems, 2.5/10 dont recommend). These are side projects that help my story, without having to write.

Reading. You saw this one coming, I know. Reading is great, especially when you're editing, your writing style will unconsciously change to be more similar the author you were just reading. Also, most importantly, I'll be reading and think, "this story is really good, but you know what story I like even better? Mine." then change to writing.

This one is my biggest life saver!! I learnt about a year ago that sometimes I'll get bored of writing a story, and have difficulty keeping on track. That's why I finished my first book in 2016 and just started editing the first draft last week. The solution for me was to work on multiple projects at once, because it was much harder to be bored of multiple stories. I stick to 2, but will sometimes add a third. This is easy for me, because I have a list of over a dozen series I want to write. Don't abandon one project for another, use them as a distraction/ motivation for each other, so you're always furthering at least one project. I've never heard someone say, "oh no, i accidentally worked on this other writing project for three months instead of the other writing project I was doing. Dammit." No, we're just happy we have written something. Be sure to have well outlined story lines before starting, don't just start writing randomly or you'll reach a point where you don't know where to go from there.

Author/ writer projects. Maybe this is building a following, or community to share your projects and engage with. Tumblr, Insta, Reddit, whatever it is. My hope this year is to start up my website to offer publishing services (editing, graphic design, short writing courses) and build a following as a writer. (See what I did there? Never a bad time to self-promote ;) ) Having your own projects like this will help you in the future when you're going to try to publish and sell your books!

Talk with friends and a writing community. Never underestimate the passion that will burn inside you when talking about your story, or when others are talking about theirs. Surrounding yourself with a positive writing community can be the best thing for you as a writer.

Write or read (your story) every day. I'm not going to be one of those people that say you need to write 1000 words a day, that's a lot. But maybe try for 100? That could maybe only take 5 minutes, and at the end of the year that's still over 36 thousand words of a novel. Or just read your story, and I've always found it helped me get in the creative mood.

Make a playlist of songs that remind you of your characters, your story, or just puts you in the mood to write. Then play it ONLY when you're having trouble writing. Playing it while writing will not help, you'll get annoyed with the songs.

Just really can't do it today? That's okay, take a break. You deserve it. There's always tomorrow.

Does anyone else have ways they push themselves to keep writing? Let us know in the comments!

Happy Writing!

[see-arcane]

Cards with the Count

Thinking about how Jonathan is trying to pass the time during Vampire Hell Staycation with all the books in the library (a guaranteed Dracula Zone), no stationery (bastard), and a finite amount of secret pen ink and secret diary pages left at his disposal (shit). Reading and writing and art are all out. What’s left?

I like to think, in this order:

1)    He remembers that he has a pack of playing cards in the general luggage Dracula didn’t snatch. A gift Lucy had bestowed on him and Mina, a pack apiece, as she insisted that it was the best way to pass an hour in dreary company that wasn’t to do with gossip or politics.

2)    He doesn’t normally play, if only because he doesn’t have the coin to meet any real gambling stranger at a table. Just a ‘for fun’ thing.

3)    Fuck it. Solitaire. Card towers. It’s something to keep his mind off the…everything.

4)    He gets exactly one (1) day/evening of peace with this. Then:

5)    “Whatever are you up to, my friend?” 

(He didn’t even use the door to give Jonathan time to hide the pack. Misted in. No shadow to give him away. Fantastic.) Jonathan staples his smile back in place and rattles off something apologetic, so sorry, was he keeping the Count waiting? Let him just put this away, he wouldn’t be interested—

6)    Smash cut to the library. The cards are now unofficially confiscated/a staple of the Dracula Zone, alongside the fancy crystal chessboard the Count loves to crush him with on a semi-regular basis. Jonathan is walking him through the rules of sundry card games. Unsurprisingly, he latches onto the concept of American poker readily. The game is a soup of similar European predecessors that light up his eyes with recognition—primero, poque, brelan—sewn together with England’s game of brag into a medley of the initial rules, both written and unwritten.

7)    “A game of skill, then?”

“Skill, acting, and luck.”

Dracula grins as he produces a ransom of gold coins to use as chips. Jonathan deals. 

(What are the extra rules here? Does he throw every hand? Does he play in earnest and inevitably lose anyway? Does it even matter? It isn’t chess, after all. Not a proper strategy game. Cards happen. Guesswork happens. A winner and loser every turn. What does it matter?)

8)    Jonathan realizes two dozen hands later that what matters is, apparently, his face. One that, likewise apparently, cannot be read by the Count in this game. Out of those two dozen hands, Jonathan has won eighteen. Of those eighteen, his hand was the clear dud for nine. Through it all, Dracula’s eyes keep jumping from his own hand to Jonathan’s tired gaze. When Jonathan wins the twenty-fifth hand and the mountain of gold on his side of the table risks toppling off the edge, Dracula bites out a word Jonathan is sure is too caustic to have a spot in the lost polyglot dictionary.

9)    “You have a gift for schooling your face, my friend.” Every word is an icicle; each as sharp as the canines jutting out of the rictus grin.

“I don’t,” Jonathan says. 

And it’s true. Now he’s schooling his face—first lesson of anyone destined for the realm of serving others—but in the game, he’s barely thinking of anything else beyond the ticking of the clock. To punctuate this, he slides the heap of gold back to Dracula’s side of the table. 

“This is only a game for the fun of it. In a game with stakes, there would be something worth playing and worrying for. When you get to England,” his face is very, very schooled as he says this, “you’ll find a much more varied competition at gambling tables. The players who really train their expressions can do so with fortunes at stake, while novices reveal every victory or loss plainly on their face.”

10) Dracula considers this. And smiles.

11) “Ah, then there must be stakes before we can play the game properly. Still, you have won the bulk of these rounds, my friend—” his hand seems like it wants to be strangling something when it drums atop the gold heap, “—and done me the charity of not taking your rightful winnings.” He throws down his cards. Ace and deuce of spades. “I shall have to speak with the kitchen about producing a stand-in prize.” 

He leaves. Jonathan doesn’t blink when he hears the door lock behind him. A card pyramid is erected.

12) Paprika hendl for supper. As excellent as he remembers. Huzzah.

13) The next time he’s herded into the library, he sees what looks suspiciously like his travel paraphernalia flimsily hidden behind a bit of drapery. Dracula is shuffling the deck.

14) “A true prize on the table this time, my friend. I know you are one to appreciate the splendor of our beautiful country, just as I know it is, for your own safety, quite impossible to go exploring alone in the wild. Too many wolves about. But if you win the majority tonight, I shall see to it that my driver takes a leave from his own many errands to escort you beyond the castle for a time, if you so wish.”

“…And if I lose the majority?” He can’t help it: “I’m sure there’s little from me you’d be interested in.”

Dracula grins.

“We shall think of something, I’m certain. Here. Deal.”

15) As expected, Jonathan’s face isn’t effortlessly unreadable in its misery anymore. He has something to play for, even if his trust in Dracula’s dangling carrot on the stick is nigh nonexistent. He loses more. He struggles more. He worries more…

16) …But the wins and losses remain surprisingly even. On into the dawn they play, matching victory for victory. Even the Count seems puzzled. Jonathan is just tired. He was never going to win. The ‘driver’ will fall to some mysterious ailment, his possessions will disappear the moment he’s sent out of the room ahead of the Count. To Hell with it.

17) “I forfeit. We remain tied, so neither has to lose.” A sour smile curls. “Besides, I have kept you up too late again.”

“One more.”

“We can say you won—,”

Dracula gives him a Look.

Jonathan sits again. Plays again.

Wins again.

Dracula hisses several words the polyglot dictionary would be scandalized to translate. Jonathan feels the first genuine smile he’s wanted to make in a month and a half try to creep up on his lips, and stifles it.

18) Dracula turns over his cards and thumbs though the deck as if looking for a conspirator. He even scowls at Jonathan’s forearms, both bare through the whole game as he’d rolled up his sleeves. Still grumbling, his thumbnail finally hooks a card that makes a cloud pass over his face.

19) “What. Is this?”

Jonathan looks.

“Oh, that’s just a Joker.”

“Joker?”

“Yes, I thought I’d taken him out. He’s not a usable card in this game, but he’s sometimes used as a trump or wild card in others. That is, he’s there to turn the tide for whoever gets to play him.”

Jonathan reaches for the card to tuck it back in the box. Dracula pulls it out of reach, walks to the fireplace, and flicks it into the flames.

“Say what you will, but I recognize a symbol of sabotage when I see it. It should not be in the deck at all!” Still watching the little harlequin turn to cinders, he flaps his other hand at Jonathan. “Go rest, my friend. Take that infernal game with you. It is not a respectable pastime for men of our like.”

20) Jonathan gathers up the deck, gives his travel kit a last mournful look, and leaves for his bedroom, knowing not to ask after the walk in the forest as he goes. In his bed, he empties the deck into his hand again and thinks on four things.

Skill.

Acting.

Luck.

And…

21) He turns the deck’s neglected second Joker over in his fingers, the impish face seeming to hold a secret in its grin.

22) When he wakes next, he isn’t surprised to find the deck has been stolen. It doesn’t trouble him. Somehow, it even produces a tired grin on his face. It nearly matches the painted thing hidden, wild and powerful, in the pages of his journal.

[no-man-no-woman]

Okay, I'm going to be very direct and I'm sorry if I come off as mean, but I just have to say it: I hate people who consider NtN a bad book and Nona a bad and/or childish narrator.

First of all: Nona is six months old and dying, it makes sense that she's a "childish" narrator, of course her point of view is strange and slightly useless at some points; she's treated like a child! She thinks a bit like a child!

Nobody says anything to her. I think that's also something to keep in mind: Gideon and Harrow were told things, even if they were half-lies [or just lies] at times, Nona is purposely kept in the dark (even if it's with good intentions for the most part).

And yes, the setting is different, but also (in my opinion) quite more grim than GtN and HtN because it's basically set in a big refugee camp, New Rho is an active war zone (the bombed out buildings where Nona and the gang spend their afternoons, the way the kids at school talk about violence...) but both Nona and her environment are highly desensitized to it. The BoE people are pretty much the dictionary description of guerrilla fighters. Hot Sauce is a radicalised child. Kevin, from the way he is described, seems to have suffered a severe catatonic shock. And Nona doesn't know that.

New Rho is all she's ever known, but the horror, for homely it feels at times, is the basis of it all. Children so used to mass ejecutions that they thalk about them while eating, gas mask that have to be kept on whenever you are outside, a teacher so used to child prostitution that was her first thought upon meting Nona's family, Hot Sauce not thinking twice before shoting her friend's brains out, Honesty being a drug dealer…

Also: I think the underlying body horror of this book is a fucking gift. Phyrra living in her dead best friend corpse, Phyrra drinking bleach because she was bored, Palamedes and Camilla fusing along the way (even before Paul), Nona not remebering how to move correctly at times, Judith sharing a body with a planet's soul, Nona's tantrums destroying her body over and over again, Aim not being allowed to be just herself and having to be the Mensager.

[three-realms-archive]

First Dates

(so! what would first dates with each of the brothers be like??? i feel like obm! and otome games like it in general tend to skip over things like this, so hey have this)

(slighttttttttttttt lesson 16 og obm! reference)

An eldest brother stands in his room, torn. Pride takes on many forms, it seems; and the Avatar of Pride has to make a choice.

Does he show you off, as he so desperately wants to, and parade you around the Devildom’s fanciest areas with extravagant dinners, popular theatre, and breathtaking views? Or does he keep you to himself, as he so desperately wants to, to snuggle with you under his covers after a romantic movie and a bottle of Demonus?

It’s a tough choice to make; but it also shouldn’t be, for someone as thorough as he is. So why, then, does he struggle? Why, when it comes to you, is it always so… difficult?

No. Lucifer knows this isn’t the right way to think of things. You make nothing difficult. You’ve brought his family back together; you’ve brought light to his grieving, shadowed heart… you’ve made everything as easy as breathing.

What the Avatar of Pride is too prideful to admit is that he is the one - for once - doubting his choices; all in the hopes of pleasing you.

_

A second-oldest brother sits in his bed, buzzing as he clutches his D.D.D - checking it every five seconds. He is two hours early, already-dressed, as he contends with his ever-magnetic pull towards you. He could show up two hours early. Maybe it’ll impress you, earning him more points on his imaginary first-date scoreboard.

Or he could wait the two hours out. Maybe it would creep you out less?

Regardless, Mammon's grip on his phone strengthens as he re-opens the app he also keeps checking - his mail app. He makes sure the tickets to the amusement park are still there, before searching for the amusement park website on the DevilNet to make sure it still exists. And then he searches through the rides to make sure the ferris wheel is still there because that’s where all the human movie couples have kisses and confessions and oh, Diavolo, if he keeps thinking about you and him doing romantic movie couple things he’s going to completely explode.

And so - the dopey, dreamy, dorky smile on the his face growing as he practically vibrates with anticipation - the Avatar of Greed sets down his D.D.D and waits.

… Until five seconds pass and he surrenders to the temptation of picking up his phone, checking everything once more.

_

A third-eldest brother talks to himself in the mirror. His ramblings are a mixture of practice pick-up lines, self-assurance, and self-deprecation at the practice pick-up lines.

It’s Levi's comfort zone. It should be his comfort zone, taking you to a local anime and gaming convention in the human world. It should be something he can navigate with ease… but then he looks at the polaroid he has taped to the top of his mirror. It’s of the two of you; you had secretly taken a selfie when he had fallen asleep after an all-night anime marathon, placing your chin on his shoulder and nuzzling your cheek against him. He had thanked Diavolo that you had left before he had opened his birthday card from you that same month; the polaroid falling unexpectedly out of the envelope, short-circuiting him.

Every so often, like now, he looks in the mirror and imagines your head on his shoulder once more - but, this time, with his wide-awake reflection standing beside you. Maybe even holding your hand.

And... he promptly short-circuits again, shaking his head as the inevitable thoughts of 'that would never happen' and 'you would never want that' flood his head.

This was going to take more than a few minutes of mirror practice.

_

A fourth-eldest brother reads, and reads, and reads. Books, dictionaries, gossip tabloids… All with ridiculous names like “Win Her Heart in Seven Steps” and “Flowchart to His Heart”. It’s what Satan falls back onto whenever he feels something unfamiliar and unknown: read, research, react. Read the material, research what to do, react accordingly.

He had invited you out to a cat café in the afternoon. He had read an advertisement for a couples’ promotion the café were running that week, booking a table in advance. He had researched the place thoroughly: the menus, the cat breeds, the seating arrangements... the cat breeds. Then, the day had come - and it was time to react.

… Except, he hadn’t checked the weather. So now the two of you are at the cat café; soaked so thoroughly that no cat wants to go near either of you.

You guess some things in life just happen unexpectedly no matter how much you plan, you say to console him as an apologetic manager walks over with a towel and a small litter of more-adventurous kittens. After drying off, the two of you begin to play with the kittens, who crawl up your clothes and mewl adorably. The Avatar of Wrath is rendered speechless by your smile.

You’re right, he realises. After all, he hadn’t planned for you to come to the Devildom.

And he couldn’t be happier that you did.

_

An objectively-fabulous, fifth-born brother seems confused by his own actions. He is objectively fabulous, put together, and always, always sure of himself. He’s never had this many clothes on hangers strewn across his bed before; mind working overtime as it imagines the different pattern and colour combinations on his body. He’s worn that shirt too many times in front of you. Those pants just don’t match the restaurant you’re going to. He can’t even decide between gold and silver jewellery - an easy decision that always comes naturally to him.

It’s not like he’s lost his touch. He knows what goes well with what… But when he imagines you looking at him, the self-doubt begins to rise uncomfortably in his chest.

… And, now, he hears you knocking on the door. And then, for the first time in his life as a demon, he walks to the door in the outfit he already has on.

And when he hears you gush over his outfit, his hair and he face… he can’t help but blush when an amazing, incredible realisation hits him.

You’d always love him - however he looked.

You’d always love him for who he was.

_

A sixth-born brother apologises profusely to yet another team member trying to navigate the RAD locker room. The demon waves him off with an understanding smile and a pat on the back… as do all the other demons on the RAD Fangol team, who also inevitably bump into the sixth-born Avatar of Sin. He’s unusually distracted, clumsy and talkative; but his team all know why.

“Hey, do I look okay?”

“Do you think coach remembers I’m going early?”

“Forecast said 1% precipitation on TV this morning. Should I move the date inside?”

All of his Fangol team - and probably all of RAD - know about his date. This is half-because he won’t stop talking about it to people he meets; and half-because his unusual, dazed behaviour makes it impossible for someone to not want to find out.

“Do you know I have a date tonight?” He asks for the umpteenth time to some old lady sitting next to him on the park bench he’s meant to wait for you at. The elderly demon feeds the crows, unresponsive - but not without a knowing, fond smile on her face. She doesn’t dare interrupt his happiness as he continues to excitedly run his plans by her; talking and talking and talking because, if he doesn’t, the hunger to see you consumes him.

When he sees you… That is when he finally becomes speechless.

_

The youngest of seven brothers zooms from place to place, making sure to cover all the ground in his bedroom. He meticulously - almost obsessively -removes anything sharp, anything spooky-looking, and even his twin brother’s open snack packets all get ziplocked or clipped shut.

The former monster of the attic cannot risk making you uncomfortable. He has a chance - one, single, precious chance - at something his brothers all had managed long before he came along:

One shot to earn your forgiveness.

One shot to be in the running for your heart.

Even this single date had come months after he had… done what he did. He wasn’t complaining, though. At first, he had considered the fact that you had looked his way at all a bout of incredible luck. When you had started conversing with him again, it was a miracle. And when you had asked him out on a date… it was no longer outside forces. Unless it was some stupid, twisted joke - or a blissful, bittersweet dream - this date was a chance.

So the Avatar of Sloth diligently fends off the alluring, drowsy pull of his sin; checking every nook and cranny of his room before you come over for a movie night and sleepover.

He cannot waste this chance.

(hey hey hey, sorry for the inactivity - i'm so so busy omfg. as a result, uploads might start slowing down or might be limited to headcannons and short snippets that come to mind; i'm also gonna start focusing the next few on the side characters for once ahahaha. anyways, have a good day people :D)

[vintagetvstars]

Rod Serling Vs. Raymond Burr

Propaganda

Rod Serling - (The Twilight Zone) - Imagine, if you will, a man taking on issues of totalitarianism and censorship in Cold War America...

Raymond Burr - (Perry Mason, Ironside) - "He's arguably best known for film roles... but you have got to see him as Perry Mason. Defense attorney constantly dropped into "easy win for the prosecution" cases and flips them upside down. Maybe not exactly conventionally handsome, but rugged. He has this private little smile when he's about to grab a loophole or mistake the prosecution or a witness has just left for him that I find very endearing..." Full text propaganda included below the cut

- No Negative Propaganda Please -

Master Poll List | How to submit propaganda | What is vintage? (FAQ)

Additional propaganda below the cut

Rod Serling:

"The writer’s role is to menace the public’s conscience. He must have a position, a point of view. He must see the arts as a vehicle of social criticism and he must focus on the issues of his time." -Rod Serling

Raymond Burr:

He's arguably best known for film roles... but you have got to see him as Perry Mason. Defense attorney constantly dropped into "easy win for the prosecution" cases and flips them upside down. Maybe not exactly conventionally handsome, but rugged. He has this private little smile when he's about to grab a loophole or mistake the prosecution or a witness has just left for him that I find very endearing. (I haven't seen any of Ironside so I can't speak on his performance there, but I think it's necessary to include in the submission because while he wasn't actually a wheelchair user in real life, it was the first ever crime show with a disabled main character and I genuinely can't think of another show like that with a *title* character using a wheelchair, particularly of the 60s and 70s.)

This guy had a million hobbies including orchid cultivation, stamp collecting, winemaking, raising cattle and sheep, and founded an association that created a dictionary of the Fijian language. He was a big animal guy and had - from what I've been able to tell - at least a couple dogs (he's noted as one of the first people to import Portuguese Water Dogs to North America), some cats, and a duck. He gave insane amounts of money to charities and was recorded as having sponsored at least 26 foster children with medical needs. He spoke openly about lifelong struggles with weight & image (and about the difficulty of finding acting work when you don't fit the studio hottie build, they made him lose 60+ pounds before they would cast him as Mason despite outperforming their other option in court scenes) and rejected every offer to do a particular popular talk show after the host had started making multiple unprompted jokes about him and his weight. He created numerous inconsistencies in his own life story that, after his death & revelation of a 30+ year relationship with a man he had met during the filming of Perry Mason, have been assumed by both press and people that knew him as intentional exaggeration to keep suspicion of homosexuality low. Absolutely fascinating guy to me, every new fact I learn about him boggles.

[jessaerys]

this is a pvp enabled zone btw. reblog to fight people who are wrong