#re rambling

[possessionisamyth]

Okay, so I figured out my issue with the latest surge of ship fics with Leon in it, most specifically when it involves Chris or another man (as Luis fics have made a huge jump to challenge Chreon numbers).

Often times for the sake of creating drama, angst, hurt/comfort, whatever you decide to label it, there is a blatant removal of Leon's agency. By this I mean, suddenly he can't defend himself from physical threats. The reason for this being the author decides to give him a trauma flashback or some kind of sudden crippling anxiety so that Chris or Luis or whoever can play hero.

Now why this bothers me in particular, on top of the follow up babying he receives in order to be stable again, is that this narrative decision almost always comes off as condescending at best. Or an egregious misunderstanding of his character at worst.

This isn't to say Leon can't have trauma that reflects in a way where he is struggling mentally. He does have this. He has his vices in which he handles them too which we've seen like lashing out or drinking. It just this specific scenario being set up doesn't work in fanfic for me, because at some point the shift turns into making Leon the author's voice box and not a character examination. I want to know what part of Leon's years of training and fighting bioweapons, trauma included, would suddenly make him incapable of physically fighting back. His response post RC has never been freeze or flight, it has always been fight, so why are people giving him the freeze reaction?

I think the only time I've seen this executed in a way that made sense is when there was a distinct power imbalance between him and the assailant. Meaning Leon's method of fighting back is quite literally removed from him due to bureaucracy. Even then, that only works with people in the government who hold jurisdiction over him. More often than not, this is not the case with fanfic that make this narrative choice.

Now, I know we are all piggy backing off of each other when it comes to fanfic ideas. We inspire each other and get plot bunnies from even just a line or two from a fic we're reading that makes us want to write fic of our own. What I don't understand is why this particular facet of writing Leon is such a phenomenon.

Is it because they don't want to write a fight scene? Is it because they have a misunderstanding of Chris' character where he always has to step in and "kiss Leon's booboos cause Leon can't do anything without a man." Is it because they're just projecting their own emotions on a character who has shown some pretty bad depression tendencies and isn't a woman? Is it because they're relying on old yaoi tropes that have become so ingrained in shipping rhetoric that they don't even realize they're doing it? I could think of a dozen reasons and not have a real answer.

All I know is that, it's not great to read 1 morbillion times. I'm not saying there can't be a breakdown. I am saying Leon holds onto his emotions too tightly to let it inhibit him from getting out of the situation first. Because there's a lot more to play with of Leon fighting a panic attack, or a break down while in a physical altercation where he holds his own. I just barely see anyone do that ever and everyone wants to be boring about this. And before anyone says "write what you want to see", let it be known my first venture into this fandom was doing exactly this. I just don't know why no one else is. I'm baffled by it!

[reborrowed-archive]

another poll with a 50/50 chance I just do what I want anyway

[inkedinserendipity]

just finished re-reading all systems red and the way martha wells' narration directly tracks murderbot's thoughts is, like, diabolical in retrospect.

because on my first read-through, i'll be honest. i did not remember the presaux crew at all. pin-lee and gurathin show up in exit strategy and i, remembering nothing about those two except ":D! presaux friends!" expected them to be like "omg hey murderbot!" because i figured the presaux crew would be excited to see their secunit again. i did not remember pin-lee's temper or gurathin's skepticism. because the presaux crew kinda blurred together for me in the first book. because that's how murderbot saw them too!

all systems red has the most en media res of all en media res beginnings. not just because it starts in the middle of an action sequence, but because it also starts in the middle of an emotional sequence. the survey has been happening, for, what - a couple of weeks? - by the time asr starts. murderbot has already met the crew. they have already formed impressions of it. but, crucially, it has formed almost no opinions of them*.

it's been watching media and half-assing its job. and at this point in murderbot's journey, and therefore its internal narration that forms the text, a human is a human is a human. it is not invested in their work, so we don't hear about the start of their survey. it literally starts paying attention to them when they are in danger and when they start to realize that it is a person, because that is when murderbot has to start paying attention.

and this is why i remembered almost nothing distinct about the presaux crew. there are a lot of crew members, but murderbot spends very little time thinking about them as individuals. so the narration tends to skim over their distinct personalities, because murderbot doesn't really consider them* at all!

and then of course we come to exit strategy and network effect, and the contrast could not be more clear. now it's got opinions about everyone, and because it has a better grasp on their personalities, the narrative does too. oh yes that's arada, wibbly bulwark, the human murderbot trusts to not be overconfident and ignore its advice. that's gurathin. it doesn't like gurathin. that's pin-lee, the combatunit of lawyers, well-dressed and sharp-tongued. and of course, that's ratthi (tag: bestie!!), who stays in the car because he will get himself killed by something.

and of course, there's dr mensah. but she was always an exception.

*dr mensah is, as she always is when it comes to murderbot, an exception to this generalization. that's tag: intrepid explorer like blorbo from my shows! that you're talking about. even when murderbot mostly tried to avoid humans at all costs, even murderbot paid attention to her. from asr to now, that has been and remains perfectly true.

[ashlinxsloves]

"Guys.. guys, is it obvious I have daddy issues?" I says as I look at the men I am obsessed with......

[cathyartie]

Haven’t heard from our good friend Jonathan for a while, are you okay in there bro? Blink twice if no.

[questwithambition]

Something incredibly satisfying about knowing your craft and the confidence that goes with it. Just the casual “yeah I could make that”. Want a band tee? Yeah I can embroider my own with the lyrics I want. Bridesmaid dress too long? Yeah I can hem it. Need new slippers? Yeah I can crochet a pair (and give them bunny ears). And of course it’s not perfect but nothing beats that feeling of being able to craft your own solution with your own two hands

[wolffallsintodanmeihell]

haven't heard from my penpal Jonathan harker today 😔 hope he's doing fine at the count's

[writingwisterias]

Together

Vendetta!Leon X AFAB!Fem!Reader

Warnings: SMUT, MNDI, Angst, Drinking, Nightmares, Hurt/comfort, Friends - Lovers, Near death experiences, PTSD, Depression, Alcoholism, Unprotected Sex, Needy Sex, Missionary,

Summary: The beauty of change is acceptance it will always happen. Leon's a man of many secrets but after one to many close calls he finally breaks needing you to help hold him together.

Words: 4k

Thank you @shymoob for beta reading again ily, also sorry in advance I just needed him to have a big cry....

Salvation. That's what he heard over and over again in Spain. Whispers in his head as he felt the parasite spread throughout his body, infecting each one of his nerves. It was a promise he would be eager to take now. Salvation from his sins. From the lives he couldn't protect, for the people he couldn't save. All of them now forever linger in the creeping darkness of his bedroom; the moonlight that filtered through his blinds wasn't enough to keep them away. It felt wrong to pray for something good as if he should even be given that option when he feels like all he has done was wrong. Mistakes that could have been prevented, saved people that didn’t have to die for him. 

Leadership was something he always rejected, the responsibility of everyone's lives felt too much. Maybe that's why when it was one of the few times he was in charge, an entire squad of eager people behind him – died. It wasn’t his fault, there were forces out of his control but that just felt like an excuse now. He’s been through too much, repeated a situation twice, fought off literal nightmares that should have stayed as sketches in a horror movie storyboard. 

Shouldn’t he have learnt by now? To expect things to go wrong, prepare for them. 

You didn’t deserve this, this man he had turned into. It was never what you expected him to grow into when you were younger. In college where you bunked together after a bad day; spending the night holding each other as you stared up at the ceiling wondering what the future had to hold. Pinky promises to always be there for each other no matter what. 

Life wasn’t that kind however. He knew that now, it was never going to be kind to him. He was a fool for thinking it would be. Even more of a fool that he now stood at your front door. 

The rain drenched him, his dark hair sticking to his face. His body ached, his chest covered in bruises from things he couldn’t lie about anymore. The secrets that he kept from you for years were threatened to spill out tonight, perhaps that's why he showed up here. It didn’t matter how hard he tried to protect you from this backpack of trauma that he shouldered everyday. It would just be another thing he was going to fail. 

It was late, he intended on going to a bar finishing the rest of his vacation deep in the bottle like he started before it was interrupted. His knuckle was curled hovering in front of the wooden door that separated him from you. From your embrace and kind words, the distraction he had pushed away for so many weeks in favour of a crappy resort with alcohol.  The distraction he should have leaned for in the first place. He couldn’t help it, pushing you away. He didn’t want to stain you with the blood on his hand. 

He knocked. Just once. His hand hidden in his pocket quickly, hiding the scrapes that decorated his fingertips. 

You wouldn’t answer, normal people were asleep at this time. People who weren’t plagued by nightmares like he was. Maybe he could sit here instead, looking out at the plants you decorated the porch with as he waited until a more reasonable time. The rocking chair in the corner looked cosy enough to sit there for a while. 

He didn’t get a chance to make up his mind, not when you opened the door. A gasp leaving your lips as you looked at him. “Bar fight?” You asked, your warm fingers examining his face, touching the cold skin of his cheek. He flinched slightly, the bruise that still lingered was tender to the touch. “You should see the other guy,” He joked. He was always good at that, getting a laugh out of you whilst using his humour to hide the turmoil inside.

You guided him inside, held his hand tightly like he was going to suddenly decide to leave. It had been months since you had seen him. The last point of contact was a blunt text about being out of town, nothing unusual in terms of news but it was the bluntness of the text that had planted a seed of worry that spread throughout your brain. You trusted him and knew his work was intense. 

He had never been the same since he left for Raccoon City to start at the RPD, returning to you a few nights later with a hollow look in his eyes and some crappy excuse as to why he returned. You knew something was wrong then, with how he was now flinching at the sound of the weather, at the sound of dogs barking or if you walked too loudly throughout your apartment his head would shoot up with alarm. The day that he returned was the same one that he shut you out, kept you away from everything that went on inside in an effort to hide the fact he had changed. That he wasn’t the Leon you knew before. 

“Do you need anything for the bruises? Or have you already treated them?” You asked him, ready to grab the first aid kit if he needed it. You watched as he gave you a delayed response, a small shake to the head. He sank onto the sofa, the cushions swallowing his form in comfort. With his blank expression it was clear his mind was elsewhere, stuck in some far away world that you didn’t know if you could pull him out of. 

You sat next to him, laying your hand on his gently. It was only then being this close you could see the struggle he had in his eyes, the inside fight he was going through. “Leon, we aren’t kids anymore. You can talk to me” You whispered. His hand was stiff as you held it, your fingers ran along the back of it in soothing circles, going over the new scrapes and playing with the older scars that littered them. Each one holding a story you knew nothing about. 

“I– want to but I can't,” He whispered, his eyes never leaving your hands. Leon flinched at the sound of your sigh, your gentle frustration. He knew that with some more prodding he would have caved this time, and spilled everything he has kept inside for years in some babbled mess. You never pried for information, instead you smiled softly at him guiding his face back to yours. 

It hurt him to feel all this pain, it came crashing against him wave after wave. Suffocating him in a tight grip that it was always too much, nothing worked as well as alcohol to numb it even for a short while. However tonight, this was the longest he had been sober, his hands shaking with the need to fill them with a glass of something but instead they held onto yours. Tightly. 

His eyes were so sad, like a puppy that had been scolded for doing something wrong. “I understand, would you like to shower and stay the night instead? I think I have some shirts and sweatpants I stole from you” You offered, your weight now leaving the spot besides him to stand and hold out your hand. A lifeline, a slither of hope. At least that’s what it was for him. Leon smiled slightly before nodding and following you. He watched as you rummaged through your wardrobe, holding out the clothes and a towel. “You didn’t just steal my clothes but also my favorite ones” 

“Can’t help it when they are comfy” 

He had showered before he came a quick one so that he didn’t smell of sweat and blood like he did when he sat on the helicopter. However, being surrounded by the smell of your shampoo and bodywash sounded perfect right now. As he welcomed the warmth of the shower spray, Leon found himself thinking of Arais’ reasoning. 

Let the world burn for what it did to mine. 

In some twisted way he understood the man – not enough to destroy the world himself, his moral compass was too strong to resort to that. But instead following along with the thought of what if something happened to you? He knew he would then struggle to know what to do with himself. He really won the jackpot with you, everything he did was to ensure you never saw the horrors he did. To not be reminded of their gruesome features when you sleep, you deserve to live in the warmth of this house. A safe place you had created not only for yourself but for him as well. 

You have always been there to cheer him up and help him, whenever it was offer a place to sleep when the boys at the orphanage he shared a room with were mean one night, sneaking him through your bedroom window just to hold each other, or during college when you would be on the sidelines encouraging him to beat his best time as he ran around the track. 

You were the cheerleader he needed, the sunshine in his cold, dark world. 

The clothes you had given him were slightly looser on his body, most of his muscle he had gained in his 20s now shredded by his poor upkeep. Most of his fulfilling meals came from you, the pasta dishes were always his favourite. 

When he approached the living room he spotted you pulling out the sofa for him, struggling to keep the fitted sheet on the corners as you adjusted the next one. It was amusing to watch, it always was. The blue flowers that decorated the linen were always a perfect mixture of the two of you. He used to grimace at the sight of the feminine bed sheets but today he didn’t seem to care. Not when he smelt your wash powder as you shook them out. 

“There, do you need anything else?” You asked him, your arm touching his forearm guiding his attention away from the bed back to you. He still wore the sad look, his face now pink from the hot water. Few of the dark strands still fell over his eyes, but he looked somewhat refreshed and that was enough for you. Leon muttered a small thank you before shaking his head. His hands awkwardly at his side waiting for the hug you alway gave him before bed when he would come to visit. It was all about the little things with you. 

You felt him cave when your arms wrapped around him, his body sagging against yours, his arms trapping you close in an attempt to hold you into him. “Are you sure you are okay?” you whispered into his shoulder, squeezing his form tightly like you were attempting to pour your love into him that way. He didn’t respond. His silence was enough of an answer anyway. 

With yet another soft smile you pulled away, cupping his face. You watched as he pressed the cheek further into your hand, subconsciously chasing your touch after rejecting it for so long. “Goodnight” He whispered, pressing his lips against your soft skin with a timid smile. 

“Goodnight leon” 

He watched your frame walk away towards the bedroom, listening for that soft close of the door watching the light that slowly leaked out across the hallway floor disappear, leaving him now again in the darkness. The sheets were comforting at least when he slipped in them. He would stomach the springs and divots in the sofa to be surrounded by the scent of you. The pillow was always too soft for him, his head sinking down far too much for his liking but as exhaustion crept in he didn't care. His eyes shut slowly, succumbing to the darkness and for the first time in years doing it sober. 

The whimpering is what you heard first, quiet and muffled through the door of your bedroom. You knew what it was, who it was coming from. You were quick to get up, wrapping your robe around yourself as you quickly ran to see him. The lamp that flickered on awoke him from his dream, half of his body hanging over the edge of the sofa, his hand touching the soft rug. You watched as his eyes widened in realisation before he shot up scooting away from the edge before curling into himself. Leon brought his knees to his chest, his arms wrapping tightly around them. It broke you to see him like this, to watch the broken man that tried so hard to hide it from you despite the tears that ran down his eyes. 

You didn’t call out to him, only walked in front of him. Your hands a firm touch on his knees as you brought his attention back to you. “Oh leon…” You whispered as bought him close to you, cradling him into your chest as he cried. Finally cried. After so many years of holding it together. He seeked your comfort like an injured child would to a mother. Claimed your body as his source of comfort whilst he wept. His tears weren’t silent, no matter how much he tried for them to not be. The sobs that left his lips were sure to be heard from outside the house. 

You didn’t ask him to explain or lift him away from you to wipe the tears away. Instead you held him closer like you were trying to squeeze them out of him. Drain him out of any bad emotion so you could refill him with your love instead. His sobs soon turned into small hiccups, his shoulders shaking off the final stray whimpers. You had questions, they lingered in the air and rightfully so. It wasn’t everyday that someone you loved, someone who was always so strong like Leon, broke down like this. 

He could feel the shake of your chest with every inhale you did, the shiver in your breath as it exhaled over your neck. He shouldn’t have come, he should have gone to the bar and drank himself to sleep there. The shakes didn’t stop, it was getting hard to breathe now. It wasn’t just the numerous near death experiences he encountered last night, it was all the ones before that. All the times he failed and almost failed to return back to you whole. Unchanged.

He felt you tug at him, pulling him away from the sofa silently. Leon flinched as you turned off the lamp, your hand tightening around his in response as you led him down the hallway into the softness of your bedroom. The door trapping the darkness away. 

Leon stood in the center of your room, watching with small sniffles leaving his lips as you turned on the fairy lights around your bed frame. The warmth glows off them, illuminating the room enough that you could still sleep. You pulled back the bedsheets for him, an invitation for him to join you. It was familiar the feeling as he tucked himself in, one arm under the pillow the other laid on top of the duvet just a hairline away from you. Leon looked into your eyes, he was sure he was blotchy with leftover tears. The skin becomes red and blotching following the tracks they left behind. 

Yet, despite all of the sadness that radiated off him, the warning sign that he was too much for you to handle. That he was too broken to be healed, he found himself leaning in towards you. Laying close where your pillows met, the crease being the only thing separating the two of you. 

It was only a few breaths of silence before you leaned in, tasting the dried tears on his lips in a soft kiss. He didn’t register it at first, thinking it was just some pretty after dream he often got after the nightmares. He still chased it when you broke away, whimpering slightly as you moved back. You didn’t realise how much he needed this…needed you after all these years. 

Your fingers laced with the strands of hair that ghosted the nape of his neck, trapping him in a kiss again. Your lips desperate and needy as you fought for each other. His hand pulled you closer, his body dominating yours as he pushed you into the mattress. “We don’t have to do thi-” 

“Please”

Leon’s beg was pitiful, he should be pushing you away not drawing you in closer so your smell suffocated him. He didn’t deserve the softness of your fingers as you pulled his shirt above his head displaying the fresh bruises that littered across his torso. “I’m an agent” He spoke between kisses against your neck. It was hardly the time to talk about this but he needed to, needed to get it out into the air as you pulled him closer. Let him into your heart as if he wasn’t already trapped in it. 

“I have been for years, since I came back from Raccoon city…I was forced to do this” 

It was hard to concentrate on his words as his fingers ghosted over the nipples through your tank top. Tweaking the small buds as his lips ghosted the words on your skin. Your breath hitched as he finally pulled the top above your tits, exposing them to the cold air of the bedroom. “I survived that night” He said as he kissed along your collarbone creating a trail towards your breasts. “I survived spain, rescued the president's daughter” 

Another kiss on your nipple, you tugged him closer, suffocating him with the soft skin of your chest. Your smell calmed him as he worked his tongue around your nipple, circling the bud with insane precision. You whimpered when he pulled away again, your grip keeping him close as you guided him to the other breast. “I tried to save people, to stop them from dying” 

Your heart broke at each confession, at each secret he revealed of his hidden life. The one that you would have supported him on, helped him work through his moments. “I’m proud of you” You spoke softly, lifting his head, trying not to whimper at the sight of his messy face. “You shouldn’t be, people have died on my watch…I get people killed” 

“Am I dead?” 

Leon looked at you, his eyebrows pinching in thought as his chest rubbed against yours. Your cores are needy for each other, waiting patiently for the pleasure that they seeked. “No,” he whispered. With a smile you bought him into a kiss, your hips grinding against his in a needy motion to feel his twitching cock. “Then I trust you to keep me safe. Just don’t keep me in the darkness anymore please…” You whispered against his lips.

It was only then his hips met your grind, pressing them against your clothed pussy pinning them to the bed. You watched him bite his lip to stifle a groan, his pupils growing darker as lust replaced the sadness. “I’m a bad man” He whispered. 

Your fingers pushed against the waistband of your pyjama bottoms, exposing your weeping sex to him. “Not from where I’m looking” 

Leon’s head dipped, clearly having a mental battle with himself before finally deciding to give in. To cross this line and let you inside again, it was only fair after all. He treated you like you were the only drug worth living for, an addiction he would never recover from. His cock slapped against his stomach as he finally exposed it. The tip eagerly beads pre-cum which he uses to work his sensitive cock. Each pump produces more for you in a steady supply. 

You gasped when you felt him notch himself at your entrance, his cock twitching against your hole spreading his pre along your folds. Leon brought you into a passionate kiss as he finally sunk himself into you, your warmth welcoming him like the hug he had always needed. The type he has never been selfish enough to take from you. His shadow loomed over you as he began to thrust. A low grinding motion, almost like he wasn’t ready enough to pull away. 

You had no idea how long he needed this, the release from hiding everything, the safe space to do so. Deep down he always knew it had to be you, the one he would grind himself deeper and deeper in such a vulnerable state. He thanked the heavens he was sober, so he could remember exactly how your walls felt as you hugged his cock, dragged him in further. Your grip so tight against his shoulders that you made your own marks along his back. 

As if he pulled out anymore of his dick you would change your mind and push him away. He almost cried when your legs wrapped around his waist trapping him there, pinning his hips closer to your own. His name became a chant as it felt from your lips in deep groans. 

The pain was welcomed compared to the aches in his joints that he still felt, pure desire willing him to take you like this. “You are so perfect” he whispered against your neck as his thrusts picked up, chasing the pleasure you were pleading him to give to you. “Please– leon” You whimpered as you arched yourself closer to him. Leon grunted in your ear, his heart beating wildly as he poured everything into you, thrusting his entire soul into your pleasure like it was the only thing worthwhile for him to do. 

You were his everything. The only thing he needed, you felt it with every twitch he gave you. His mouth sucking against the skin as he whimpered at the feeling of you. Sweat dampened his body as he finally chased the high. “I love you” You whined, pulling his head away from your neck as you finally kissed him. Tears pooled in his eyes at your words, his head nodding in agreement. 

Leon shifted his thighs underneath your ass, pressing you further into the mattress every thrust. In a pleading whine you finally orgasmed around his cock. The feeling was perfect, rejuvenating the energy he needed for his own finish. He needed you to feel the same warmth he felt inside, the same love that you offered him so gracefully. He loved you, he will always love you. He needed you to know that despite him changing, growing into a colder man, his love for you was the only thing that stopped him from freezing over entirely. 

As he unravelled himself inside you, fucking his seed deep into your warmth with a whine. He entrusted that your grip would keep together, that your hold on him would slowly close the wounds that had bled for too long. As they had become infected and leaked over his soul in an angry attempt to kill his spirit. 

Your chest greeted each other with each breath you took, unspoken words and confessions still lingering in the air, but in this moment he didn’t care. Not when you looked back at him with so much love. “I love you more” He finally whispered before pulling away to hold you to him like a weighted blanket. 

The silence that filled the room was comforting as you both came down from your high, your minds working too much for sleep to take you in its graces. “I almost died yesterday…flung so far I broke through a glass barrier and hung on the verge of life and death. I knew it was going to happen someday…but I wasn’t ready. Not when I hadn’t told you that I loved you” Leon admitted. It was scary to listen to these words, your heart skipping a beat at the confession of his near death. Realising that this was the moment that made him panic earlier, his body hanging off the sofa in a similar fashion you assumed. 

“Then don’t waste anymore time, I’m right here.” 

Instead of panicking, just like you always did, you offered him a space to talk. An opportunity to finally go through everything he has, to listen to every heart breaking moment he shouldered alone. In hopes that together, you could help him move on and finally begin the process of healing.

[ifmagicexists]

something about how tommy being buck's "most transformative relationship since abby" is something that's not only stated in the show by buck himself, but also something the narrative emphasizes over and over. like. buck spent a season with abby, falling in love, and the next entire season pining after her. and its the same with tommy! a season together and now pretty much the whole of season eight pining after him, with one key difference: tommy keeps showing up. over and over, a defining trait in their relationship at this point, buck asks for him and tommy is there: buck wants his attention and tommy shows up at his door; buck asks for a second chance at a date and tommy shows up and agrees; buck throws a bachelor's party for chimney and tommy shows up despite a shift; buck asks him to be at his sister's wedding and tommy fights fires to get there; buck gets sick/cursed and tommy is there; buck wants a funeral for a long-dead outlaw and tommy is there; buck needs a diversion against the fbi and the army and tommy is there, no questions asked

and i just think there's something so beautiful about that journey for buck, going from pining after someone who's long left him behind (multiple someones, it can be said), to pining after someone who can't stay away from him. and the journey from repeatedly being told both times not to reach out and to just move on, where with abby it wouldn't have made a difference either way, with tommy its only keeping them apart longer, because tommy will show up for him; he just has to ask.

[doing-something-unholy]

I was looking up what happens to laicized priests for potential ✨️character drama✨️ but i found this instead 😳

[reborrowed-archive]

most of my writing is just spinning its wheels in the mud going nowhere BUT

the half-faery is involved either way

[royalarchivist]

Jaiden: How did you guys even find out that, um... Chayanne's admin plays Cucurucho? [Reading chat] Ohhh, accidentally played the soundboard as Chayanne? That's hilarious actually. I wanna see the clip of Phil reacting to that.

Jaiden: I love– I love the way that Phil laughs, it's just such a hearty, genuine laugh. The few times that I've made him laugh, I've felt really good about myself! [Embarrassed laugh] Because he makes me feel much funnier than I am, you know?

Jaiden talks about silly QSMP moments and laughter. 💜

[ Full Subtitle Transcript ↓ ]

—

TRANSCRIPT

Jaiden: How did you guys even find out that, um... Chayanne's admin plays Cucurucho? Did they just tell- tell Phil? Did- were they just hangin' out? [Reading chat] "The same username"? Ohhh. [Reading chat] "It was a mistake"? ...Wait, what was the mistake? What do you mean "it was an accident"?

Jaiden: Ohhh, accidentally played the soundboard [Laughs] as Chayanne? That's hilarious actually. [Laughs] What di- what did he say, was he just like, "Ha ha ha"? [Laughs]

[Old clip of Bad, Fit, and the Eggs] Bad: –have one of the things I'm looking for. Chayanne: [Cucurucho voice] HA HA HA Bad: What was that? Fit: You heard that too, right? Chayanne: [Cucurucho voice] NO Bad: ...What the fudge was that. Fit: Wait–

Jaiden: [Reading chat] "He said 'no'" [Laughs] That's so funny. [Laughs] I wanna see the clip of Phil reacting to that. I love– I love the way that Phil laughs, it's just such a hearty, genuine laugh.

[Clip of Phil laughing]

Jaiden: The few times that I've made him laugh, I've felt really good about myself! [Embarrassed laugh] Because he makes me feel much funnier than I am, you know?

[Old clip of Phil and Jaiden] Jaiden: Oh, that's awesome! And then it– [She gets snagged by the machine] Jaiden: Oh– Ahh! Phil: Be careful! Jaiden: AAAAAᵃᵃᵃᵃᵃᵃ — [Her screams fade as she's dragged away] Phil: [Laughs] There she goes! [Hits his desk and laughs]

[Another old clip plays] Jaiden: [Singing along to "It's Been So Long" from FNAF] It's been so long, since I've last seen my– Phil: What is happening? [Laughs, then laughs more seeing Jaiden's mask] PFTTT– [Laughs] Jaiden: [Laughing] Phil: Jesus Christ–

Jaiden: It's just like, such a good laugh! I wish I had a– a like, more-hearty laugh. You know? You know what I'm talking about? My laugh is kinda like... Uh, you know how you guys compare Foolish's laugh to like, the... window cleaner? Like a– [Squeaky window-cleaning sound]

[Short clip of Foolish covering his face with one hand and making the squeaky laugh he's known for, slapping the arm of his chair as he keeps laughing]

Jaiden: I can't do it– [Laughs] It doesn't sound like that. I think mine is like... Because like, I do like, "Hee hee hee!" and I also like, breathe in, like– [Squeaky sound] You know? So I think– My laugh kinda just sounds like... Like, after you spray the window, and you're like, cleaning it. Like, wiping it down with a cloth. You know? That's what my laugh sounds like. I wish it was more of like a, "Ha ha ha."

[Short clip of Cucurucho saying "HA HA HA"]

Jaiden: But, I mean, I'm not complaining. I don't think– I don't think "laugh anxiety" is something that I wanna– is not a path I would really wanna go down. [Quiet laugh] It's like- sometimes, you just gotta pick your battles. [Laughs]

Jaiden: [Reading chat] "You have a good laugh" Thank you. [Quiet laugh]

[huginsmemory]

Been thinking about how Bill legitimately had a horrifying reason (the literal progressive disintegration of the nightmare realm that erases whatever it disintegrates from existence completely) to move himself and his crew into a new dimension. Like that's terrifying. And yet he never utilizes this to his favour. He could have been honest about this with Ford, and you KNOW as long as Bill didn't mention plans of overtaking the earth, Ford would've made the portal for him, both out of Ford's own interest and because Ford when faced with these big moral questions will pull through. But this is a card Bill NEVER plays because although he needs to leave the dimension, he cannot lose face. He can't put aside his pride and admit to the humility that he needs to flee from his dimension, that he's not actually all powerful. And so instead he pretends to be a muse and when Ford figures out something else is going on, instead of being open and humble and saying that his dimension is unravelling, Bill focuses on that he's going to over take earth, that he's actually been a monster all along, surprise Ford!

And part of it is definitely because Bill's built himself up on power and violence and to grovel and earnestly ask for help, to admit that he cannot stop the unraveling of his dimension completely invalidates that; showing vulnerability? Can't do that, even under the guise of lying to get his way. And part of it makes you wonder if it's also a form of self-sabotage, because underneath his deep denial Bill is guilty over what he occurred; he sees himself as a monster and so he'll be that monster, and having people recognize that feels good in the same way that pressing a bruise feels good. But it makes you wonder what would've happened if Bill even just was open about his dimension unravelling and had lied about overtaking the earth.

It's also interesting because although Bill has SOME charisma and can manipulate people decently well (as evidenced by his cult, and pandering to people's desires with Ford, Mabel and Blendin), he refuses to be vulnerable, refuses to not be true to his off-putting self, even when if he was just vulnerable of pretended to not be himself, to put aside the (false) pride he has in himself he would've gotten a portal by now. and part of me wonders if it's because it's this false pride that built on insecurity and denial on who he is he cannot drop that mask.

Further thoughts on this!

[lipglossanon]

Resident Evil Requiem (27 February 2026)

[oh-no-its-bird]

Every time someone without warning deletes their fic, an angel loses their wings.

[cathyartie]

“I love Lucy Westenra!” We all say in unison