#it's just. cold and angry

[pinktinselmonstrosity]

one month living back home with my parents and oh boy are the cracks starting to show 🥴

[mellosdrawings]

Bell's pathetic wet dog energy vs Case's destroyer attack dog energy

Both are psychotic killers

I love happy-puppy or dissociating-braindead or viciously-angry Bell, but at their core they're just a pathetic little meow meow and you'll never convince me otherwise.

Do you see my vision?

Is it me or does it look like the Chad vs Virgin meme?

[princema-k]

Can you make flora mad please 🤲🤲 she deserves it

couldn't decide between pouty or dead serious so u get both

[animefreak1145]

I think about the Duga Ending a lot. Not necessarily the more violent one, where Bell tells their allies to head to Duga to set the trap. But the one where Bell chooses not to, says Duga anyways. With no plan.

I think about that action of saying Duga, leading Adler and the others astray—the completely wrong direction, saying nothing and giving nothing away as they sit with Adler in the passenger seat of his car. How Adler trusts Bell wholeheartedly with the answer of Duga. His dog wouldn’t lie. Why would they? They would never.

Bell, who reveals after Woods words and Adler’s coaxing of the truth—if they lied. How Bell just wanted to see their faces of frustration, of anger, of emotion, but they just wanted to see it from Adler. Bell, the epitome of petty revenge with this action—the chance to actually see the arrogant and normally stoic man break. Only to see nothing. No anger. No yelling. Adler who only has a frown and tone to match his disappointment.

Here is the person, the terrorist that led you astray and purposely caused the death of millions just for the chance to see Adler’s anger—only for him to feel disappointed. More how one would feel and look after seeing their pet pee the bed, destroy and tear off your favorite bed sheets—not at the genocide of millions.

I think about the Duga ending a lot. And how even at the end, Adler’s pride at Bell lowered significantly but not angry. How Bell’s petty revenge tasted bittersweet with blood forming at their chest from the shot, with Adler’s scarred frown looking down at them.

I think about how disappointed America’s Monster was at his precious dog that was always supposed to listen, but bit back and decided to die like this. No assault. Just wishing to see their master’s true face. Only to see that their master’s arrogance and pride was always there, Adler’s mistake. His cocky attitude bit back just like Bell did—roaring confidence that the tool he made and took out a piece of himself to do it would betray him like this.

I think about how could it be a betrayal when Bell wasn’t part of the team in the first place. “You’re still one of us, kid.”

I think about the Duga Ending, and all I see is America’s Monster being betrayed and Bell’s momentary confusion how the monster was disappointed more than angry at their gall.

I think. And I think.

And then I think of Solovetsky. I compare.

And all I can see is their relationship always ends in a betrayal in some way or another. The taste in both their mouths being bittersweet, either with blood or just as a natural after taste of killing a piece of your mind or the one who created your mind.

I think about the Duga Ending a lot.

[whatudottu]

Something something Cold's boredom activates when things happen the same way, yada yada Cheated gets fucked over more often than not, so... :P

[pzyii]

christmas/winter with the bartons + in laws(maria)

[aka-indulgence]

Hows the jungle Aka

Let me tell you this. I used to enjoy rain. Maybe not tropical torrential rain because it stresses me out, but a heavier drizzle, I enjoy.

I no longer enjoy rain . _ .

[gengar-pixel-2]

I really hate this guy, so I made a gif to cope after the events of operation bumblebee part two. (SPOILERS FOR TRANSFORMERS PRIME BELOW)

Look, I made him explode. He's dead now. We're safe. He cannot hurt us anymore...

TOOK STARSCREAMS T-COG, CAN'T HAVE SCRAP IN NEVADA

[wellvak]

i’m so weak to rage baits you could just say you dislike alex cabot or casey novak and ill lay awake at night clenching my fists shaking in anger and thinking of cursing you for seven generations

[waitineedaname]

when im writing them, i often find myself thinking about the difference between jiang cheng and wei wuxian's anger. im not sure how to put it into words, but the way they both express anger is so interesting to me bc like... for jiang cheng, it tends to be his first response. he's confronted with something unpleasant and the safest response is to be angry and lash out, because then that protects the vulnerability hidden beneath whatever has upset him. his anger tends to be explosive, with shouting and violence, until eventually it ebbs away and the vulnerable emotion underneath is revealed. wei wuxian, however, tends to let it simmer until it eventually boils over. I think about the confrontation with jin zixun about the wens a lot, and how you can see him trying to keep a lid on the anger at first, and how that makes him cold and sharp (which is made all the more striking by how warm he is under better circumstances) until finally he can't keep a lid on it anymore and the anger boils over, which is the point at which you should probably aim to leave his general vicinity because an angry wei wuxian is very, very scary

[fishandshesmygills]

i fucking hate winter i want to [remembers threatening suicide just harms my loved ones] take down a deer with my bare hands and rip its throat out with my teeth

[whiskey-tango-matcha]

Chatterbox (M, cold, 'drabble')

A little prompt-based fluff for you guys :) Reed and Greyson go out to dinner, but Reed realizes something is up when Greyson won't shut tf up lol. I'm loving writing this relationship, I can't lie, so sorry if it's too much Reed and Greyson lately - I'll get back to my other guys soon!

1.6K words (just a tiny lil blip of a story haha) CW: Male snz, coughing, fever, contagion mention. Hope you like it :)

Chatterbox

Reed looked down at his phone as he waited on Greyson, rereading the stream-of-consciousness texts his boyfriend had sent throughout the day.

Greyson

1:42PM

sooo pumped for tonight bb :)

1:56PM

should I wear a suit…? I know it’s a new spot but the website definitely reads ���fine dining’, like fine-er than most of my clothes know how to be...

2:24PM

I think I’ll do dark jeans & a black button up. johnny cash style. cant go wrong w that. hahah.

3:17PM

I know ur working still but im just really excited to see you:):)

It was cute – borderline adorable – how nervous Greyson seemed for their dates, even after almost a year of the two of them being together. Reed had, of course, answered Greyson’s plethora texts throughout the day, but had tried to keep himself subdued so he wouldn’t give away his hand; tonight, he was going to ask Greyson to move in with him.

He knew it was a bit of a long time coming, but Reed was really trying to keep from scaring Greyson off by doing anything too quickly. His boyfriend certainly had a bit of past-relationship trauma that Reed tried valiantly to navigate; it was hard to figure out what the right time to do anything was. Sometimes, he wasn’t sure there was ever going to be a right time to push their relationship to the next level. But things had been good lately; like, really good. Tonight felt… right.

Greyson’s presence was palpable before Reed even saw him blow through the door. He looked up from his phone and clocked his boyfriend, standing out side the restaurant with his elbow locked over his face; Reed cocked his head a bit, confused. Was he… coughing?

The chef, clad in the Johnny-Cash-getup he’d promised, shook himself out before pushing the door to the restaurant open. He pawed at his nose with the back of his hand while asking the hostess to point Reed out – she gestured towards their table, and Greyson smiled when the two of them locked eyes. Reed waved, smiling back. Something was certainly… off.

“Sorry I’m late, baby,” Greyson said, kissing the top of Reed’s head before sitting across from him. “The fuckin’ train was running late again.”

“I’ve told you a million times I’ll come pick you up for dates,” Reed said, squeezing Greyson’s hand across the table. “You don’t always have to take the train.”

Greyson shrugged, smiled a little loopily. “I like the train,” he said, picking up his menu and squinting at the small font. “Lots of time to think. I’ve come up with my best dishes on the subway, I’m pretty sure; you remember that tart I made for the writer’s dinner, the one where we saw each other for the second time? Came up with that on the train. I was sitting next to this girl, probably a student, and she was eating one of those little egg tarts, the ones from the Japanese bakeries? I thought, damn I bet a root vegetable in one of those would fuckin’ slay – spoiler alert, it so did. Where would I have come up with that if not for the train? Plus, it’s one of the most sustainable ways to travel. I get my good karma for not actively killing the environment in. Win-win. What’re we eat – HTSHH! NXTSHH!” Greyson’s explosion of word vomit was very suddenly cut off to stifle two painful-sounding sneezes into the back of his hand.

Reed blinked for what was maybe the first time since his boyfriend sat down. “...bless,” he said after a beat. Greyson nodded, sniffled a little, and picked the menu back up.

“What’s this place’s thing anyway?” Greyson continued, flipping the menu over to look at drinks. “I can’t seem to figure it out; are they Italian? Mediterranean? Fine dining? Just high-end? No tasting menu, but prices are high enough to warrant one. Wine list reads very Italian, but there are like three dishes with hummus on them? I’m half-expecting to be served babaganoush bolognese. Which… maybe would work? Actually, eggplant, tomato sauce… I could see it working. You never know. Can’t judge a book by its menu, right? What’re you drinking? Want to get a bot -?”

This second monologue was cut short when Reed reached across the table to place a gentle hand on Greyson’s face. Just as he expected: hot.

“Babe,” Reed said gently, taking his hand back, “you’re burning up.”

The chef cast his glance down, embarrassed. “You weren’t supposed to figure that out till after dinner,” he muttered. Reed laughed.

“Seriously? You had to know I’d figure something was up. You’ve been monologing since the moment you sat down. Have you been sick all day? You should’ve told me, honey. How much cough medicine did you take before you showed up here?”

Greyson looked up at Reed and gave him a little half-smile. “Pretty sure I downed half a bottle of Robutusssin, not gonna liiii – hh! HhNXTSHH-ue! Huh-TSHH-ue!” Once again, Greyson attempted to stifle, to no avail. He allowed himself two painful little coughs before righting himself again.

“Bless you,” Reed said again. “I wish you would just sneeze normal, that always sounds so painful.”

“We’re in a restaurant,” Greyson said, a huskiness beginning to creep in to his voice. “That’s so gross.”

Reed rolled his eyes. “Oh, please. Who cares? No one’s looking at us. They’re too busy with their many, many hummuses.”

A laugh bubbled out of Greyson, and with it came a flurry of congested coughs he directed into the sleeve of his shirt. “Don’t mbake me laugh,” he muttered, taking a drink of water. “You’re gonna get us kicked out.”

“Good,” Reed said, flagging the waiter. “I’m so sorry,” he said when the young, well-dressed server came to their table, “something’s come up and we’re going to have to go.” He handed the kid a fifty. “Thank you for your help.”

The server nodded, said thank you to Reed, and went to grab the two men’s jackets. Greyson raised an eyebrow, confused. “What’re you doing?”

“Taking you home,” Reed said. “You need tea and soup, not…” he glanced back down at the menu, “fattoush flatbread.” Greyson visibly deflated.

“I wanted to spend the evening with you,” he said, his voice subdued. “I’m sorry. I should’ve called and canceled, I just… I mbiss you when we don’t see each other all week. You’re always busy, I’mb always busy, it just fucking sucks. I don’t even know how I got fucking sick… oh wait, yes I do. Elijah had a cold last week – was that last week? Did I tell you that? I can’t remember. I think the servers gave it to him. Fuckin’ servers, I’ve never met a group of people who get sick mbore than theehh – huh! Fuck – HUHETSHHH-ue! Huh-! HhITSZZZCH-ue!” Greyson folded in half, his torso practically beneath the table in an attempt to keep the entire restaurant from hearing him. It was, of course, at that moment that the server returned with their coats. Reed took them silently, and stood to gather his boyfriend, who slowly unfurled himself from his own lap.

“Bless you,” he said, gently helping Greyson to his feet and slipping his coat over his shoulders. He lead the two of them past the host stand and onto the sidewalk, where he turned Greyson to face him.

“First of all,” he said, sweeping Greyson’s hair out of his eyes and caressing his cheek, “I know a subset of people who get sick more than servers, and it’s chefs. You and all your chef buddies are pestilence incarnate because you work nine hundred hours a week.” This prompted a little laugh from Greyson. Perfect, thought Reed. Break the tension.

“Secondly, yes, you did tell me that Elijah was sick, and I told you, and I quote, ‘Don’t get too close, I know you two love to share a cold’, but I know you don’t like to listen to authority, so not sure what I expected.” Another laugh. Greyson pushed his hair back, rubbed his nose, and pulled Reed in to hug him. Reed continued from this spot, pressed into Greyson’s shoulder.

“And thirdly,” he said, “I miss you too. All the time. Which is why I asked you out tonight.” He pulled away, reached into his pocket, and dropped a key into Greyson’s palm. “I don’t want to miss you anymore. I don’t want you to have to take the train from Brooklyn every single night, I don’t want us to hang out once a week, I don’t want to drop you at your apartment to take care of yourself. I want to see you when I wake up every morning. I want to hear you sneak in at three AM after you and Matt go clubbing. I want to take care of you, at home, when you’re sick.” Reed smiled, a little embarrassed, as Greyson stared at the key. “Move in with me,” Reed said. “Please.”

Greyson’s mouth opened, then shut without words a couple of times before he looked Reed in the eyes. “Yes,” he said, nodding. “Okay. Yes. Yes, please.”

Reed felt a smile bloom on his face, huge, goofy, unashamed. He took Greyson’s face in his hands and planted a kiss on his lips. Greyson held his boyfriend by the waist, then picked him up to spin him around. “I love you,” Greyson muttered into Reed’s mouth.

“I love you more,” Reed said, smiling. Greyson turned away then, suddenly to -

“HRRSHH-ue! HhhITSHZZCH-ue!” he sneezed away from his boyfriend, which prompted a laugh from Reed.

“Probably too late for that nicety,” Reed joked, elbowing Greyson playfully. The chef huffed out a laugh and rolled his eyes.

“I figured sneezing directly into your face would probably kill the moment,” he said, sniffling. “But I’ll go ahead and just do it next time.”

“Oh, shut up,” Reed laughed, kissing Greyson again. “C’mon. Let’s get you home and in bed. Sickie.”

Greyson smiled a little. “Yeah,” he said, looping his arm into Reed’s. “Let’s go home.”

[blueberyboy]

Have some more Weaver doodles and…Mason x Weaver perhaps? Please I need other people to understand me…..they mean so much to me….

[katewritesss]

"Were you sent by someone who wanted me dead? Did you sleep with a gun underneath our bed? Were you writing a book? Were you a sleeper cell spy? In fifty years, will all this be declassified? And you'll confess why you did, And I'll say 'Good riddance', 'Cause it wasn't sexy until it wasn't forbidden, I would've died for your sins, instead, I just died inside. And you deserve prison, but you won't get time You'll slide into inboxes and slip through the bars. You crashed my party and your rental car. You said normal girls were boring, but you were gone by the morning You kicked out the stage lights, But you're still performing"

And in plain sight, you hid But you are what you did. And I'll forget you, but I'll never forgive, The smallest woman who ever lived.

[myfandomhalf]

BSD is the only fandom I know of that would take canon content between a ship and say “that doesn’t count bc it’s fanservice” 💀 what does that even mean?? And yes I’m talking about

This is an actual scene in a movie / manga / light novel. Asagiri was involved and supervised the whole thing. It HAPPENED. It’s CANON. Wdym it “doesn’t count”??? Who decided to write this off as fanservice?? Like you guys are taking one of the most canon gay scenes and saying it doesn’t count bc it’s too gay so therefore it must be fanservice. You really think they had a meeting like “we should do something nice for the skk shippers let’s have Dazai and Chuuya be super gay” you think Asagiri with his track record would do/allow that?? You think he’d throw in some unnecessary yaoi just as a treat?? Please bffr.

If this happened with any m/f ship it would be treated as genuine ship content. Hell, if this happened with bakudeku half the fandom would rejoice and the other half would be beyond livid and disgusted but they wouldn’t say “doesn’t count it’s just fanservice”

[bonefall]

while i do agree with the sentiment that bloodclan should be more nuanced as an entity i still believe it is wrong to portray them as the necessary "response" to clan injustice (haven't read the books in years but i am pretty sure that bloodclan started with no connection to the clans) / an opposition to the clan's flaws. some of the thing scourge did was out of selfishness and bloodclan isn't the other colour of the black and white debacle with the clans. the clans are heavily flawed yes, but it isn't realistic to completely say that their structure had no redeeming qualities altogether and that all outsider groups is fundamentally better than the clans.

all clans and groups are flawed in their own way and i believe we shouldnt brush past the things that other groups (the sisters and what they do with their toms *cough cough*) did solely to be able to degrade the clans and their culture.

Buddy, you're setting up a strawman. I promise you that if you look into the reduxes I've made of BloodClan, Guardians, The Sisters, and the Tribe, you will see that I don't make any of them a "flawless" alternative to Clan life.

Nor do I say that the Clans have no redeeming qualities. In fact, you can browse the "Clan Culture" tag to see the various expansions I've made to show how these traditions, values, and technological advances make Clan life so alluring.

The overarching theme of BB is that the nature of culture is change. For better AND for worse.

With respect, I think there's something insidious in the wording of "the things the other groups did." We're talking about fan responses to a work that consistently demonizes and degrades foreigners to make the Clans look like the "best way to live," justifying xenophobia. These are not real groups, they are writing choices.

In the franchise with some pretty extreme examples of misogyny, the authors said "What if bizarro world where women rule and have no men... woag..." and only includes a single Clan-alligned member of this culture, with a BAD opinion of them, who can't even do his diplomatic job because he HATES them so much.

In the same franchise that shows Fireheart getting bullied, facing prejudice, and fighting a murderous tyrant who publically executes a mixed-race character, their endgame villain is an outsider, like him, but this one IS a godless heathen who HATES love and friendship and banned families.

In the VERY same franchise which made its first non-malicious group barely able to get through an arc without needing to be saved by Clan cats, totally unable to defend themselves, framed as "whiny" for not wanting their clearly 'inferior' culture to be forcefully changed.

And I'm re-stating all this because, again, no offense to you in particular Anon, but I've been seeing a few people with a sentiment like yours lately. Complaints into a vacuum that don't make targeted critique of anyone's fanworks, gesturing at this broad "woobification" which is apparently out there somewhere over the rainbow, saying things like "well Scourge is selfish" or "well Moonlight abandoned her 13 year old" as if we haven't BEEN knew.

As if we're not all directly responding to these choices. As if I haven't written ESSAYS on this topic.

Since this was about BloodClan in particular though, and you admit you haven't read the books in years, please go back and actually read Rise of Scourge before trying to make critique of the ways fanon rewrites its origin. It's EXPLICITLY a response to the Clans, in the text, that the Erins wrote, it is canon that fanon is working with.

And you want people to take that out and approach it a different way... why? Because it's so incredulous to you that a nation forms in response to a threatening neighbor? That a common enemy through invasions is a way that people might choose to unite, and encourage their new culture to value brutality? Because you don't like the idea of Clan Culture's XENOPHOBIC BATTLE CULTURE affecting surrounding communities??

Could YOU, maybe, be doing this "woobification" thing I keep hearing about? Can I play this stupid game too? What's our stupid prize? Can it be a lollipop? Do we get stickers

TL;DR, ok.