#(i hate planets we should blow them all up)

[konfizry]

as Rena's consumption and hollowing progressed over the millenias(?), it is quite possible (near undeniable in fact) that its mass decreased drastically enough for the Twin Planet System's barycenter to shift from an equidistant point between the two planets to one that is closer to (and maybe even contained within??? if the phenomenon is extreme enough) Dahna. i call this the satellization of Rena. the press is deliberately keeping silent about this issue and

[germiyahu]

This phenomenon of so called Leftists throwing up their hands at the tiniest pushback, or criticism, or suggestions on how to not actively be antisemitic needs to be studied. Because what do you mean instead of just accepting that an antisemitic troll claiming to be on your side said "Zionist Occupied Government" and denouncing this and moving on with your life... you double down, defend, and deflect. It's classic DARVO, but like, when people are very patiently and slowly explaining how this is a literal KKK Nazi white supremacist fascist phrase, it's not enough? You don't care?

It's clear that the "pro Palestinian" left have been fully infiltrated by fascists, both Western fascists who have always been nakedly antisemitic and are finding the perfect avenue to mainstream their Jew hatred... and Islamist fascists who simply never cared that Jews are a global minority group that has faced oppression and violence in multiple different continents, they don't care about social justice or fundamental human rights. It's not part of their intellectual tradition.

The "pro" Palestine movement has been captured by people who have decided that a) Palestine is emblematic of all of the problems of the world, and that b) every Jew is worth sacrificing to correct these problems, because c) if Palestine is emblematic, aren't Zionists responsible for everything then?

Now the prevailing thought is that someone should be able to call for violence against Jews, someone should be able to harass or even assault Jewish Americans, because bringing it up, complaining, taking a stand, that's the equivalent of telling them you like children blowing up, you like hundreds of thousands of people being homeless and food insecure, you like prisoners being detained in Guantanamo conditions without due process, where anyone can torture them as revenge even if there's no proof they're an actual Hamas member.

Is there a reason they argue like Republican Fox News addicts? I guess that kind of explains how easily the "movement" is falling apart to literal fascists.

They say "nobody cares about your hurt feelings ZIONIST!" if you mention literal stabbings and firebombs. They say "but we should talk about how pervasively synagogues indoctrinate the vast majority of Jewish people with Zionist ideology." They roll their eyes because "don't you know Palestinians are suffering 200x what these cushy American Jews could even imagine?" Facts don't care about your feelings uwu~

But at the end of the day, they care a lot about their own feelings, much more so than the facts. They feel entitled to hate all Jews all over the planet, to secretly revel in antisemitic rhetoric and acts, to want to take out their impotent frustration and despair on any and all Jews they'd like. This is very much about their feelings and not any Jewish people's feelings.

They've been waiting for this, or many of them never cared at all. Now it's finally Leftist to quote Nazis and openly make fun of Jews who are getting stabbed. Now it's finally Leftist to call for incinerating all of Israel and maybe we should consider a lot of Diaspora Jews too, you know they can't be trusted! Oh but don't forget to honor the victims of Hiroshima and Nagasaki, innocent civilians should never have been targeted by America's vicious imperial violence!

The fact that it took this substantial contingent of watermelon twitter less than a year to go full mask off like this... is that revealing or troubling?

[ckret2]

Chapter 56 of human Bill Cipher probably not about to be the Mystery Shack's prisoner much longer:

Bill and Mabel wrap up their impromptu lesson on the second dimension, while Ford and Dipper wrap up their final preparations for Bill's execution.

Dipper peeked in through the door to the gift shop. When no one acknowledged him, he cautiously meandered across the living room toward Ford, straight between Bill and Mabel without either of them glancing at him; they were too caught up in Bill answering Mabel's question about how to see through walls with the fourth dimension.

When Dipper was nearly out of the room, Bill suddenly focused on him. "Hey stinky, what have you been up to?"

Dipper jumped. "What?"

Mabel laughed. "Yeah! You smell like burning hair."

"You smell like nightmares," Bill corrected.

Ford muttered a curse under his breath. Ford hadn't noticed a smell, but Dipper's soul had fallen into the Nightmare Realm—did its distinctive scent still cling to him? Would Bill realize what it meant? If he did—

Dipper swallowed hard. "I... was... having a nightmare?"

Bill considered that. "Ask a stupid question..." He shrugged and turned back to the grid he'd been adding notes to.

Dipper sighed in relief. He joined Ford in the entryway to watch the lesson in bafflement. Under his breath, he murmured, "Has this been going on a while?"

"At least the last fifteen minutes." That was how long Ford had been watching. He'd learned a couple things about higher dimensional physics even he hadn't known.

"Wait," Mabel said, "Bill, I get it! You don't look through walls, you look over them!"

Bill's face split into a wide grin. "Explain it!"

"It's like, if I was floating above the second dimension, I could just see over all the walls! But Flatworlders don't even know what 'above' is, so they'd think I was looking through the walls somehow! So there's got to be some kind of fourth dimensional place 'above' the third dimension, right?!"

"On the money, star girl! Give yourself another sticker!"

"YES!" She'd run out of facial real estate for stickers, so she slapped it on her headband.

Bill beamed proudly at her. "How come your brother's the one with the straight A's, huh? You could blow him out of the water if you wanted."

Mabel's smile immediately disappeared.

Dipper hissed between his teeth. "Oooh." Under his breath, he said, "Mabel hates people saying things like that. I should go rescue her." He crept back into the room. "Hey! Bill!"

Mabel turned toward Dipper. Bill only glanced askance at him. Flatly, he asked, "What."

"Uh..." Dipper skimmed the papers coating the room for anything that he could talk about, and focused on the ringed planet behind the TV. He pointed at it. "Is... that Flatworld?"

Bill shrugged apathetically. "Sure, you can call it that."

"Why are all the countries off the planet?"

"Do you think we lived underground?"

Mabel perked up. "Dipper! The shapes live in outer space! In between their home planet and the planet's rings! They only use the planet for vacations and underground science buildings and stuff."

Dipper asked, "Underground science buildings?"

Bill sighed and turned away from the grid, giving Dipper a look that said I'll give you my attention, but I won't like it. "Research facilities. Like wave pools, particle accelerators, and solar farms. Gigantic equipment like that is more stable anchored in bedrock."

(Ford remembered, suddenly, over thirty years ago, Bill telling him that he ought to dig out a subterranean cavern for the interdimensional portal. "A big machine like this," he'd said, "you want that anchored on all sides by solid rock. It'll be a lot more stable that way." Ford had never dreamed that was a trillion-year-old cultural artifact from a dead civilization.)

Still studying the map, Dipper asked, "How do you tell where your country's borders are if you're just floating in empty space?"

"How do you?"

"We use... rivers, and..."

"And sometimes you just make them up. It's not that complicated."

"Were they all as oppressive as the country in Flatworld?"

Bill gave Dipper a withering look. "This isn't a politics class, kid."

(Ford cast a dubious look at the blood-red letters reading "ANTI-MONARCHIST ANARCHISM".)

Dipper scowled, crossed his arms, and looked over the map again. "But, wait—if you were floating in outer space, and you could just... float up and down between your planet's surface and the ring, then why isn't there anything further out than that? What was stopping you from floating all the way to that moon?" He gave Bill a challenging look, as though he'd uncovered a logical fallacy that undermined the whole map.

Bill rolled his open eye. "This is what you get for coming late to class." He pointed his crayon at his star student. "Shooting Star?"

"They did float all the way to the moon!"

Dipper's shoulders dropped. "Oh."

"It was a big extreme sports bragging rights thing," Mabel said. "Like climbing Mount Everest! Except first you have to get through the rings without dying! And it'd take like thirty years to fly there and thirty years to get back!"

"Approximating the human years," Bill said.

"So they couldn't go until they invented cars, because they're fast enough to get through the rings without getting hit and it only takes a year to drive to the moon, but that means you still have to carry enough supplies for two years, and—"

"Hold on," Dipper said. "Cars?"

"Yeah!"

"But there's no ground! They're flying around in the air! They don't have wheels, do they? What makes a car different from a rocket ship?"

"Um..." Mabel looked to Bill for help.

Bill said, "Firepower." He drew a rocket sailing up toward the moon at an angle, its fiery trail cutting through the planet's rings. After a thoughtful pause, Bill added, "I know a guy that used to work at an observatory on the far side of the moon."

Dipper said, "So what happened to your world?"

And there was that hesitance, that guarded look Ford had remembered seeing whenever Bill got too close to teaching Ford enough for him to recognize the danger to his dimension. He turned away from the kids, busying himself with refining the shape of the moon. "Do the math. I'm over a trillion years old! Stars burn out, universes go cold. Your planet will barely last twelve billion years. That's the way planets go."

"Well, if you're so powerful, why didn't you just—I dunno—keep it alive?"

The crayon snapped in Bill's hand.

Mabel gave her brother an irritated look—"Dipper, don't be mean,"—but it turned to a worried look when Bill rounded sharply on them both.

Bill snapped, "Who says I didn't, smart aleck?"

"Wh—I—"

"It is alive, thanks for asking. I made sure of that."

"Then where is it—?"

"Do you think I let you sit in here so you could ask stupid questions?" Bill planted a fist on his hip and pointed toward the door. "All you've done is derail the lesson and bring up stuff we covered three hours ago. Scram, kid."

"What—? But..." Dipper looked to Mabel for help.

Mabel shrugged. Dipper sighed, got up, and trudged out of the living room to join Ford in the entryway, giving him a forlorn look as he did.

Ford muttered, "I used to get kicked out of classes for challenging the teacher, too."

Dipper snorted. "Did he ever kick you out of class?"

Ford thought. "No—but why would he? He needed me to think I was his star student."

Although one time Bill had woken Ford up at two in the morning in the middle of a dream during the portal's construction, because Ford had forgotten some measurements he'd taken in the basement and he hadn't left his notes somewhere one of Bill's eyes could see them. And then, once Ford had retrieved his notes, the irritation of being woken had prevented him from falling back asleep and returning to his Muse.

They'd laughed about it the next night.

"Do you think his world does still exist?" Dipper asked.

Ford shook his head. "The Oracle said he destroyed his dimension himself in his pursuit of power. I trust her more than him."

They stood outside watching as Mabel asked Bill if there was any way for a normal human to see into the fourth dimension without busting their eyeballs. Bill started illustrating a way to grind glass to refract light from several minutes in the future, before abandoning it halfway completed to start explaining to Mabel how regular three-dimensional refraction worked. Ford recognized the unfinished illustration. Bill had included it in his miniature grimoire, too.

Voice low, Ford murmured, "You can't tell your sister we're ready."

Dipper nodded. "She'll be heartbroken."

Ford remembered having the exact same thought that morning. He squeezed Dipper's shoulder. "I suppose I won't be going with her to that concert in Portland tomorrow."

####

"... and that," Bill concluded, "is why the Time Giants banned sixth-dimensional tourism. But by then the damage was done—which is why there's only one survivor left."

Laying on the floor, staring at the ceiling, Mabel said, "I'll never see balloons the same way again."

"Nobody ever does." Bill clicked shut his marker and dropped it on Mabel's chest. "So that covers the last fifty billion years of local politics! Did that answer your question?"

Mabel paused. "I don't remember my question."

"Good. I don't either." Bill sat on the floor beside Mabel and crossed his legs. "Anyway, you owe me fifty grand. All the info I gave you today is worth at least a year of college classes on this planet."

"Pssh, yeah right!" She paused. She sat up. "Wait. Really?"

"I might've skipped a few names and dates and formulas—but sure! We covered all the important stuff!" Smugly, he said, "So, still think I think you're dumb?"

Mabel stared at him, and then around the room at all the papers coating the walls, covered in Bill's handwriting. "You did all this just to prove I'm smart?"

"You proved you're smart. I got a captive audience for the afternoon. Quid pro quo!" Bill grinned. "I wasn't kidding earlier! You've got twice the brains of any of the other morons you'll share a classroom with. I'm surprised it's your brother on the honor roll instead of you."

Mabel's smile faded. Oh. "Yeah," she grumbled, pulling her knees to her chest. "You and everyone else." This wasn't much better than Bill thinking she was stupid: now he had expectations for her.

She'd heard it a million times, any time she did anything intelligent. You're so smart too, why aren't your grades better? Why don't you make grades like your brother?

Because Mabel liked art, music, motion, and stories (and usually not even the stories they read in English class); and Dipper liked—or at least was good at—math, science, and history. Because Mabel's brain fuzzed over with TV static when she tried to read a textbook, and the static got louder the more she was forced to reread it to "study"; whereas Dipper could read a chapter once, retain everything that mattered, and then skim it a second time right before a test to remind himself of the important names and dates. Because Mabel's bulb was just as bright as Dipper's, but hers had faulty wiring, making it flicker on and off outside her control; and she could only get it to glow steadily for things her brain was interested in; and she couldn't choose what her brain was interested in; and school wasn't on that list.

But how did she explain that when her parents were disappointed in her C+ test because Dipper came home with an A? When they told her she just needed to apply herself, how did she explain she was already applying herself five times harder than Dipper and still trailing behind him when the whole family knew she had just as much brains as him? It might have been easier if she actually was stupid. At least then they'd know she was doing her best. But she wasn't doing her best.

She got it from everyone. From her parents, day in and day out; from aunts, uncles, and grandparents; from teachers she'd taken by surprise with a particularly passionate essay; sometimes even from friends. Why aren't you making A's like your brother? So why shouldn't she hear it even from Bill Cipher.

Bill leaned back in surprise when Mabel curled in on herself. "What? I'm calling you smart, kid. Most humans like that."

Mabel shook her head, pouting at the floor. "Forget it. It just—it doesn't matter what my stupid grades are, all right?"

He stared at her in bafflement for a moment; and then said, with a tone of growing horror, "Oh. Ohhh. I sound like your dad."

She hated how much he knew about their home lives. She never knew when he was going to reveal he'd combed through one of her most shameful memories. "Just forget it," she repeated. "I just don't make grades like Dipper, okay?"

"Kid, I didn't mean it like that. I..." Bill floundered for a moment. It was weird to see him struggling for words. He leaned forward, cheek in hand, putting himself eye level with Mabel. "You know—I don't think I'm fond of your brother."

That dragged a small laugh out of Mabel. "Really? You hide it so well."

"I know! I'm a real gentleman," he said. "So when I say 'hey, why aren't you getting A's,' I'm not saying you should be more like him, ugh. I just want to watch the alpha twin trounce that little nerd."

She laughed louder. "Bill! Be nice, that's my brother!"

"And you have my eternal sympathy."

"Bill!" She punched his arm. "I don't want to compete with him, though. Even if I try a zillion times harder, I'll never get grades as good as his." She sighed loudly. But Bill was watching her, full attention on her face, expectant, so she continued: "I don't want to be a slightly worse Dipper, I just... want to be a really good Mabel! And—and maybe a really good Mabel is just okay at school. It's fine if I just... graduate with C's and go to some boring local college to get a boring degree for a boring job... while Dipper goes to some... big, fancy stupid technical college... or..." She trailed off, chin in her hands, staring at the carpet.

"Or while he gets private tutoring from some genius with too many PhDs?" Bill said wryly.

Mabel didn't answer, trying to swallow around the lump in her throat. "I know he wouldn't have actually left me behind."

Bill grimaced, sucking in a breath between his teeth. "Yeeeah, no, he would have," he said. "Sorry, kid. If it weren't for Weirdmageddon, he'd have taken the apprenticeship."

Mabel's stomach flipped. "Oh."

"So, you're welcome," Bill said.

Mabel socked him again, more seriously.

Bill just laughed. "Hey—if it helps, he woulda been worse off for it! He made the right choice sticking with you."

"Really?"

"Would I lie to you?" He paused. "Poor choice of words. I'm not lying to you. He'll be better off suffering through a middle-upper-class Californian high school beside you than he ever woulda been hiding in the woods catching gnomes in butterfly nets."

She nodded. That was some comfort. Even if, in another life, apparently Dipper would've ditched her.

Bill gave her one of those long, piercing looks he sometimes did; and then he nudged her. "Hey. Don't worry about school—that's your parents talking, not you. And don't worry about what your brother does. Let him bust his butt at a big stupid technical college! Flunk every class and draw flowers on the SAT bubble sheet! You'll have plenty of your own things going on, and your dumb grades won't matter for any of them—"

Mabel flung her arms around Bill. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "Hey. You're gonna be fine, kid." He leaned his head on Mabel's, one shut eye pressed to the crown of her head. "I—know it's hard. But you'll be fine."

She didn't know how he could know it was hard. He already knew everything, it wasn't like he ever had to worry about grades. But—the fact that he cared (that he cared) meant a lot. "Thank you."

"Buuut, if you ever decide you do want to be an honor roll kid, call me up! I can give you some advice."

Warily, Mabel asked, "Study tips?"

"No way! What a waste of time!" Bill rolled his eyes. "But I can teach you how to cheat."

####

After Ford told Stan and Soos the news about the Dontium, he headed downstairs to fuel up his Quantum Destabilizer. It had been waiting on a worktable in his study for weeks, the corded power adaptor Fiddleford had made plugged in where it usually took fuel, its empty fuel tank laying nearby.

Fiddleford had said the adaptor he'd invented only gave the destabilizer enough power to act like a common laser—not enough to completely destroy matter and energy. It was insufficient for the job at hand. Ford unplugged the power adaptor, carefully coiled it up, and slid it into a storage pocket in the destabilizer's carrying case.

He picked up the fuel tank, retrieved the milk jug of NowUSeeitNowUDontium, and poured it into the tank, eyes never wavering from the jug until every drop had been poured inside and the tank re-sealed. He triple checked the destabilizer's safety before he plugged in the fuel tank. Then he put the destabilizer in the carrying case as well, and shut and latched it.

As he headed toward the door, Ford spied Flatworld laying on his desk—Dipper must have left it downstairs. He picked it up... and then sat down, studying the cover. It showed a square with arms and legs peering through a telescope.

How much did the book really matter? The kids must have cracked open something in Bill's psyche by reading this book, with how talkative he'd been today—Ford suspected he'd learned more about Bill's world in less than thirty seconds of staring at the crayon drawings in the living room than he had in all the years he'd known him. He itched again to start recording revelations in his journal.

Would Bill have been this forthright years ago, if Ford had remembered more about the book then and asked about it? Or was Bill only willing to share so much because the Pines already knew the truth about his cruel intentions and he had nothing more to hide? No, that couldn't be it—just a year ago, long after he'd revealed his plans, Bill had been willing to guardedly confess to Ford that he'd "liberated" his dimension, but nothing more. The only descriptor he'd given of it was "flat." He hadn't even shown Ford an accurate illustration of his home world.

Then was it because he'd died since then—a ghost desperate to share his life story before he dissipated completely? Or was it just because Mabel had asked?

If Bill had been honest when he'd said he wanted to be Ford's friend... then, Ford supposed, it was possible Bill was also sincere in caring for Mabel. No, Ford was sure that was sincere. How many times had he seen Bill lost in thought, staring at the friendship bracelet she'd given him?

Ford idly flipped through Flatworld, choosing a passage at random to read, wondering how much he'd remember.

SQUARE. Most illustrious Sir, I can observe plainly that you are a Circle, though I know not by what magical means you have found an ingress into my dreams. Would your Lordship deign to satisfy the curiosity of one who wishes to know the identity of his esteemed Visitor?

SPHERE. Your question is more difficult than you may realize. To begin with, I am not a Circle, but rather a Sphere, the definition of which I shall explain to you in due time; and you, my humble pupil, if you exercise the full extent of your intellectual and rhetorical capacity, I hope shall be the Square who changes Flatworld. 

SQUARE. Your Lordship both honors and confuses me. I shall strive to be worthy of your high estimation, but I am naught but a mere Quadrilateral and know not how I could contain the potential to achieve such a feat.

SPHERE. I see I have gotten ahead of myself. I shall explain the purpose of my visit. I hope to find in you—as being a man of sense and an accomplished mathematician—a fit prophet to receive the Gospel of Higher and Lower Dimensions, which I am allowed to preach to only one brilliant mind in a century. 

SQUARE. Pardon me, my Lord, if I am speaking blasphemously in my ignorance; but would not a messenger from beyond this Plain who delivers Gospels to Prophets be better described as an Angel?

SPHERE. You may refer to me as an "Angel" if you so wish, as my nature is not so different from the creature you call such. However, I have come not to offer a revelation of the truth of the Higher Dimensions, but to bless you with the inspiration to discover the truth for yourself. In this manner, I am less like unto an Angel than I am to a Muse—

Ford threw the book on the floor.

####

When Ford headed back upstairs, he resolved to tear down all Bill's crayon drawings and throw them away, lest he give into the temptation to waste the rest of Journal 5's pages meticulously cataloguing them.

But when he reached the living room, the walls were bare, with no sign the papers had ever been there aside from some stray crayon marks and a little extra damage to the wallpaper where the tape had peeled up, and a faint smell of smoke.

Ford followed the smell into the kitchen. There was a cast iron skillet on the dark stove, embers and the last few strands of smoke trailing up from it. Bill was sitting at the kitchen table in the dark, staring out into the night, nursing what looked like the second cider can of the night.

"What's all this?" Ford asked.

Without turning around, Bill said smugly, "I knew you'd be back to try to get those papers."

"Wh—? I was coming to throw them away."

"In the middle of the night?" Bill scoffed. "Please."

Ford frowned at the skillet. Well. Temptation removed, just like he'd wanted. Although a petty part of him was miffed that now Bill thought he'd been coming to rummage through his detritus for secrets about his home world, rather than seeing Ford confidently throw it in the trash. "How did you get the stove on?"

"Oh, is it on?" Bill asked innocently.

Ford double checked. It was not, and the knobs to operate it were still removed. But it radiated heat as though it had been; Bill hadn't just dropped the papers in the skillet and ignited them there. (Which would have been an entirely new concern.) Ford checked the cabinet where they kept the stove knobs—all still there. If he asked Bill how he'd achieved that, he'd probably just profess ignorance.

Fine, Ford had plenty of other questions he wanted to ask. "How long have you been able to levitate objects?"

"You mean like this?" Bill lifted his empty cider can, tapped it twice with his index finger, and left it suspended in midair.

"Yes, like that."

"I don't know what you're talking about. I can't do that," Bill said.

Ford sighed in frustration. "Was it the eclipse? You said you were—what was it, 'better at floating' than us? Did it... unlock something? Or have you always been able to do this?"

"This is what I used to like about you, Stanford. You're so curious. You come up with the most interesting connections between things. Sometimes connections I'd never thought of! And you keep—asking—questions. Even when nobody answers you." He finished his second can, used both hands to crush it, and left it floating in the air next to the first. "You used to be such a good student."

You used to be such a good teacher, he wanted to shoot back—but that was a lie. Bill had never been a good teacher, he'd just pretended to be one.

He'd been a good teacher to Mabel today.

Why isn't he always a good teacher? Why had he chosen to be a poor facsimile when he could have chosen to be the real deal? Why hadn't he been better? Why hadn't he been better? Why did they always seem to have these conversations in the middle of the night?

"Why are you..." Ford spread his hands helplessly, gesturing at all of Bill, everything he'd ever done—golden god of infinite wisdom, poisoned by lies and cruelty, trapped in a slowly rotting body. "Why are you like this."

Ford wasn't expecting Bill to get out of his seat and round on him so fast. He didn't even see the blow coming before Bill punched him.

Ford seized Bill's wrist and only barely caught himself before he broke it.

Bill didn't even acknowledge Ford's grip. "I'm so sick of you." His voice was hard as iron. "If you ever ask me that again, I'll burn down this shack with all of us inside."

Ford stared at Bill. He let go of his wrist.

Bill silently swept around Ford and out of the kitchen.

"I'm sorry."

Bill's footsteps fell silent. After a moment, he muttered, "Might've overreacted."

Something about the grudging not-apology hit Ford harder than a proper apology ever would have. He remained standing in the kitchen until long after Bill had gone upstairs.

The cans had fallen at some point during Bill's departure. Ford knelt to pick them up. Experimentally, he tapped one twice, and let it go.

It fell to the floor again.

It occurred to him that, depending on what happened tomorrow, those might have been the last words he'd ever say to Bill.

####

Bill shuffled to his sleep spot under the attic window, flopped unsteadily onto the cushions, pulled Journal 4 from its hiding spot, and carefully stuck the gold star Mabel had given him earlier that day to one of its pages.

And then he filled half a page with all the things he should have screamed at Ford.

####

Mabel came into the bedroom, shut the door—it had been patched earlier that day by Soos—and flopped face up on her bed. Staring at the ceiling, she said, "Dipper I know everything now."

Dipper was already under the covers, eyes shut. "About what?"

"Bill."

"What shape was his dad?"

Mabel paused. "I know almost everything about Bill."

"Pfff."

"But I do know his mom was some kind of supermodel or something! He says that's where he got his good looks. I don't know if he's actually good-looking by Flatworld standards, or if he just has really high self-esteem, but if his mom was a model I guess he could have inherited whatever Flatworlders think is good-looking—"

"How do you know he's not lying?"

"Why would he lie about that? I'll never meet his mom."

"To make his family sound cool?"

Uncertainly, Mabel said, "I guess." After a pause, she loud-whispered, "Did you read Flatworld?"

Dipper figured he wasn't getting to sleep any time soon. He pushed his covers down and sat up. "Yeah."

"It was really messed up, huh?"

Dipper thought about it. "I... guess it was, yeah." He hadn't thought about it much earlier—he'd been trying to wrap his head around the math and visualize the fourth dimension, and then his quick tour of the Nightmare Realm had pushed it from his mind completely; but... "The author's really obsessed with dead baby shapes, huh."

"You remember those old 70s cartoons with singing numbers we watched in class to try to teach us multiplication?" Mabel asked. "I was expecting it to be like that but for old timey people. Not about shapes getting executed for having short sides."

"Or squares getting locked in insane asylums for heresy if they tried to say the third dimension existed."

"Or major sexism against lines."

"Yeah, what was that about? Did they really think lines went around stabbing everyone to death just because they're pointy and they could?"

"I don't know, maybe lines really did do that. If I kept being told to shut up because my head was too skinny to hold a brain, I'd stab my husband too."

"I guess that makes sense." Light through the attic's triangular window illuminated the room a deep gray-blue; but as Dipper watched, the room darkened as a cloud covered the moon. It was probably going to rain tomorrow. "And... this is where Bill grew up?"

"Yeah," Mabel said quietly. "Some details are different from the book, he said so. Like he told me colors weren't illegal and peace-cries were just a dumb etiquette thing. But..."

"What about the executions? Or—or triangles being treated like servants by everyone else?"

"I don't know. He didn't want to answer questions like that. He talked about stuff like dance clubs and gardening in space, but he got super mad when I tried to ask about the serious stuff."

"Maybe he got his power as part of some... triangle uprising? And then he went crazy and decided to destroy everything?" Dipper was thinking, again, about the Axolotl's half-remembered prophecy. That maybe Bill was here to help them against some threat even worse than him.

"I can see why he destroyed his dimension," Mabel said.

Dipper winced, "Okay, but—sure, it was bad, but that doesn't mean his entire dimension deserved to die."

"No, of course not," Mabel said quickly. "But like I get it. If all that was going on."

"If it was. Just... how much is different from the book, and how much is true?"

"I don't know."

The room fell silent again.

"Welp," Mabel said brightly, "I've got the rest of summer to get the whole story out of him! Goodnight, Dipper!"

Dipper's stomach flipped with guilt. "Yeah." The rest of summer. Mabel left for Portland in the morning. "Goodnight."

He lay down, pulled his sheet back up, and stared at the ceiling.

Friday, 11:00 p.m.

####

(Next week's chapter is exactly what you think it is. But before we get there, I'm looking forward to hearing what y'all think about this week!)

[saphronethaleph]

Sekrit Documents

Olek Taks groaned.

“Oh, no,” he said. “Not again.”

“What’s not again?” his superior asked, looking across the office.

“What do you think?” Olek asked. “We’ve gone viral. Again. Space Thunder is the number one trending topic.”

Miles Hark rubbed his temples.

“Of course we have,” he said. “Is it too much to ask that it’s because of our latest update?”

He paused, amending his statement.

“Is it too much to ask that it’s because our latest update is something people actually like?”

“Of course it is,” Olek replied. “Number two is ‘leak’ and we’re seeing all the usual memes again.”

“All right, what is it this time?” Miles asked, going back over to his chair and leaning back with a creak of adaptive servos. “What was it last time, anyway?”

“Last time was the Tie Advanced, wasn’t it?” Rocomora said, not looking up from her screens. “Someone complained that we hadn’t correctly assigned shield strength values and posted the entire technical manual for the thing.”

“No, that was the time before last,” Olek told her. “Last time was the Incom T-65, the X-Wing. That time it was the manufacturer’s documents, someone was arguing that it should be killing off TIEs one on one because of its better all-round stats.”

He shook his head. “I’m pretty sure someone got fired over that one. Or arrested.”

“Am I getting mixed up?” Miles said. “I thought the last big argument was over the AT-TE and that wheel droid.”

“No, that was months ago,” Rocomora told him. “Easily. That guy was saying that the later model AT-TE walkers from RHE had the point defence system, and after eighty posts of flamewar he put up internal GAR documentation showing it. Even though we’d specifically only included the early model AT-TE precisely so we didn’t have to include the PD system for balance reasons.”

“So… one of the clones, right?” Olek asked. “They must have been the leaker!”

“Yeah, but how are you going to tell which one?” Rocomora asked. “They all look alike!”

Miles groaned.

“I hate how often we have to have this discussion,” he said. “So what was it this time?”

Olek was scrolling through the forums, now, and he clicked – then winced.

“Uh,” he said. “It’s about campaign mode.”

“Oh, no, not the persistent campaign mode,” Miles said, putting his head in his hands. “This is going to be about the gungans again, isn’t it?”

“Worse,” Olek replied. “Some poster or other said that there’s no way the Empire should be losing any planets, because if they lost them they’d just blow up the planet.”

Miles laughed.

“What, really?” he asked. “What kind of nonsense-”

He stopped.

“Oh, no,” he said. “Oh, no. You’re not saying…”

“Yep,” Olek agreed. “He posted complete technical specifications on this giant kriffing battlestation that’d take a week to cross on foot, accompanied by a picture of the thing. And now the thread’s growing at three pages a minute.”

“Why is it always us?” Miles demanded of the air. “Why don’t the idiots at Galaxy of Spaceships have to deal with this?”

[gremlin-bot]

The Trials and Tribulations of Summoning Your Boyfriend

This is based on this prompt from @stealingyourbones !  Hope y’all like it!

AO3 link!

Tag list-  @bewitched-forest @half-dead-ham @eyesofcrows

Tim wasn't up in the watchtower much. It's the Justice League's base and he had his own city and team to take care of (even if said team is a branch of the Justice League and he shared responsibility of Gotham with his family). All of that is to say that when he and other available members of the League were called to the watchtower, it was bad.

Tim was expecting a world ending threat. What he wasn't expecting was a summoning circle and a portion of Justice League Dark to be there. John Constantine and a summoning circle always means bad news, it's even worse that Zatanna and Captain Marvel are there helping. What kind of threat is it to warrant this? All of this is topped off with superman wheeling in a projector to the training room they are all set up in.

Bruce steps up next to the projector. He looks extremely tired, not that most people could tell but a bird knows the bat well. As Bruce turns on the machine, Constantine takes his place next to him with a book bound in leather that holds pages that glow a slight green. 

"I called you all here because of this creature attacking Central City." Projected on the wall is a blurry image of a black dragon with a purple underbelly, its whole body glowing.

"Justice League Dark was able to identify it as from a place called the Infinite Realms. They have advised us to not engage and to evacuate everyone we can from the whole city. The Flash has started that. Half of you will join him, as indicated by folders Superman is handing out. The other half will be here to help with the solution that Constantine is handling."  

As Bruce directs those in the evacuation group, Constantine takes over the debrief. "The beast in Central City is a bitch to take care of and the solution is even worse. You boy scouts are here to make sure everything doesn't go completely tits up. I hate to say this and hate fucking doing it even more, but we are trying to trying to summon the Ghost King." 

At that point Tim tuned out a bit. Usually he wouldn't have but he actually knows more about what's happening than Constantine does. Looking back at the creature still being projected, he can vaguely recognize it now. How did Aragon get out of the realms? Especially without being noticed by Da-

Tim was pulled out of his thoughts by Dick, who apparently was dragged here as well, brushing past him with a smirk. What a dick, going out of his way to mess with him. He really should get to where he was needed. 

Taking his place near the top of the summoning circle, he noticed how it was actually set up. It was wrong, completely and utterly wrong. The array was correct. It showed the right constellations and had the right places connected but the candles aren't on the circles that represent the planets, nor was the offering placed correctly. This wasn't going to summon anything. Too bad that Tim was going to let them try anyway. It's better than trying to correct it and explain why he knew it was wrong, plus where was the fun in that.

The other heroes settle into their places. The ones left were the Justice League's big three , the JLD members, Conner, Dick, and Tim himself. They all looked a little nervous and on edge in their own way, from Superman's clenched fists to Dicks never moving smile. Besides Tim who was a bit more relaxed than he really should be. He really should hide it a bit better.

Constantine reading from the book starts the summoning. Latin falling heavy from his lips, a wind that should not be possible in a satellite blows through the room, the candles' flame turns neon green. Everyone holds their breath as the chanting stops. The candles flicker once, twice, and nothing. The room quickly reverted to how it was before. The tension in the air could be cut with a knife.

"Bollocks." Constantine deflates. "Looks like this didn't work, we must have fucked up somewhere." 

"Why don't we explain how we set it up and go from there." Zatanna offers, gesturing for everyone to gather around her and Constantine. Tim stays back and waits for the rest to be distracted by figuring out what went wrong. He can tell that Bruce and Dick have noticed his distance from the others but they haven't done anything yet.

Once the distraction is set, Tim moves in front of the correct offering section of the array. Removing his glove and taking out a birdarang from his belt. He can hear the moment everyone notices the actions he has taken and the one about to come.

"Red Robin, step away from the summoning circle." Bruce demands with concern hidden in his voice. 

Tim doesn't listen. 

In the moment before anyone can get to him, Tim slashes his ring finger on his left hand. It wasn't deep per say but it definitely wasn't a paper cut. Blood flows out of the wound (almost like a ring), hitting the floor inside the offering ring of the array.

Several things happen at once. First, Dick who was the closest and was trying to grab him, stopped in his tracks along with everyone else. Second, the summoning changed. The first offering was ejected from its place, the crystals shattering. Candles slide at high speed, settling on the represented planets, their flames changing color. The summoning is like a loaded spring trap now. Tim grinning, sets the trap off.

"Alnilam, my love" dropped soft and sweet from Tim's lips with a crawling static buzz. Everyone could hear the buzzing honey intertwined with those words despite their low volume.

The stilled room stirred, yet no one but Tim himself had moved. A cold fog rolls out from the array, blowing a light breeze with it. The static can be felt in their scars, healed bones, all the near misses, and clipped hits. All close calls of the past haunt them in this moment. The room's lovely held in tension snaps as the soul deep buzz is pulled from them into the array. It spills into a Lazarus, toxic, death, neon green pool with small rippling waves that crest with reflection of the space that engulfs the watchtower. This rippling pool stretches upwards. Everyone struggles to move as they inch closer to Tim. As the liquid barely reaches the tall ceiling of the training room, gravity seems to take hold. It sloshes down, turning into a cool fog on impact. Leaving a being in its wake, that is kissing Tim's offered bloody hand.

Danny is in his full king garb. A black metal crown floats above his head surrounded by light similar to earth's aurora borealis. White hair glowing starlight complementing pale blue skin, that blushes the prettiest cyan, not that anyone but Tim can see that. Jewelry hanging from pointed ears and slender neck. His suit is hidden by a long cloak cut from the barrier between realities. The outside is the space outside the satellite with the interlining of a swirling Lazarus green peaking out as the end floats upward. 

Tim is grinning like a love struck fool and he knows it. This is so worth the lecture he will be getting from both Bruce and Dick. Danny raises his head, blood staining his lips as they stretch into a fanged grin just as love struck.

"Hey Red, uh what the fuck!?" Dick's voice snapped the two boys out of their own world and back into the one with everyone surrounding them with looks of concern and from certain people, bone deep exhaustion. Danny drops Tim's no longer bleeding hand, allowing Tim to turn to fully look at the group around them. Tim's grin is now one of mischief and secrets yet to be spoken. From the look on Bruce's face if Danny wasn't behind him he would be out of the watchtower and locked in the manor despite not living there anymore. Too bad that Constantine could give less of a fuck about what's going on between Danny and him.

"Your highness, we called your assistance because one of your subjects is causing trouble in the moral realm and-" as Constantine told and worked out what was going on, Danny moved so he was behind Tim, his arms loosely wrapped around Tim's neck and chin resting on top of his head. Danny was floating off the ground to do this. 

"Oh! That's Aragon, give me 10 minutes and he'll be out of your hair. There is no payment needed, I insist. But before that –'' Danny’s legs float up, flipping him to face Tim upsidedown. A grin that only means trouble for Tim sets on his pretty face. “Red, Babe, Love. You could have just called me if you wanted me to meet your dad and his superhero friends!” 

“Danny, I swear to the Ancients if you disappear –” Tim couldn’t finish the hollow threat as Danny gave him a peck on the cheek and disappeared from sight. Leaving Tim to the heroes, one being Bruce ‘Tim is my little princess’ Wayne and another is his very protective brother. 

Tim looks at his family members in the room, and wow, yeah he is not escaping the interrogation when they get back to the manor. Bruce is approaching him swiftly and looks as if he is going to grab him and never let go. Dick is no better, he has a shit eating grin with his wrist computer up and is already typing. Everyone is going to be there for the interrogation and Bruce's coddling, Tim just knows it. He's going to make Danny go back to the manor with him, he is not doing this alone. It's the least his boyfriend can do after leaving him to deal with this. It was still worth it, even if he has to flee to the Infinite Realms after all is said and done. He’ll just become a trophy husband for Danny and avoid his family at all costs in doing so.

"Red Robin, would you please explain what your relation is with the King of the Infinite Realms." Bruce is definitely in mama bear mode, he was never going to be let outside of the manor.

"I think there are more pressing matters at hand here, like how King Phantom is on his way to Central City and we have yet to inform anyone on the ground." Tim is stalling and everyone knows it, but he's not wrong.

Bruce grumbles about not knowing the king's name but still steps away from Tim and starts relaying the relevant information to the evacuation team. Dick is leaving him alone for the moment, probably waiting for more privacy. Conner on the other hand is trying to hold in his laughter at the situation he got himself into. Tim just glares at him, even if Conner can't see it under the domino. At this point he doesn't care what the rest of the League thinks, he just wants Danny back so they can face Bruce and the rest of his family like he (they) has been avoiding. 

Danny was quicker than his self-imposed time limit, taking 7 minutes instead of 10. Giving just enough time for Bruce to almost give an on the spot interrogation, almost being Tim's saving grace. Unlike Danny, who decides to drop his invisibility only after wrapping around Tim's torsos, his head and arms taking their previous places. 

"Your ghost problem is taken care of. I'll be taking Aragon back to the infinity realms, along with Red Robin here." Danny casually says, like it isn't kidnapping.

"Wait, what." Tim said in shocked silence.

"Well since you summoning me got me out of a meeting with the observants, it's a perfect time to go on a date, you know like all of our dates." Danny is saying these things on purpose and he better get them out of here quick before Bruce tackles them.

"You are a menace!" as Tim says this, ectoplasm begins to pool at their feet, spreading out making a barrier of open space around.

"A menace, you love!" Danny lovingly teases as a low rumble ripples from his core making Tim smile. This is the last thing the heroes hear before the couple drops out of the mortal realm and into the one of the dead.

[eunseoksimp]

Sandstorm ; Hong Seunghan

Pairings: Bf!Seunghan x Gf!Reader

Genre: Angst, Break up

Warnings: toxic relationship, use of swear words, suggestive content and mention of sex. reader is extremely insecure and seunghan is low-key manipulative.

Description: The complexities of a tumultuous relationship between two people who love each other but struggle to see eye to eye. They attempt to compromise and reconcile but realise that with each other, they are like a violent sandstorm.

Based on Sandstorm by Mereba feat JID.

“we were low, we were high, jekyll, hyde”

‘all i’m asking you to do is trust me. for once.’

it wasn’t uncommon for you and seunghan to be arguing, only this time you thought it would be able to wait till after your 6 year anniversary dinner.

you loved hong seunghan, with every fibre of your being, but lord did he get under your skin.

the honeymoon phase of your relationship was bliss.

rarely would you argue, just eager to be wrapped up with the other, letting your bodies do the talking.

but that was years ago, a distant memory.

it wasn’t like you enjoyed fighting with seunghan, no you hated it actually.

you would feel like you were slowly losing your mind, being gaslit as you struggled to keep your words tame.

‘trust. you? how could i trust you when you let her rub all up on you,’ you were practically seething, nails digging into your palms as you desperately tried to hold your tongue.

‘oh come on. she wasn’t rubbing herself on me at all. you always do this baby.’

there it was.

seunghan had deep issues with establishing boundaries with other women.

at first you found it weird that he had a particularly high number of female friends, but you brushed it off due to his friendly nature.

you soon came to find out that this was all a mistake.

he was always adamant, ‘that girl was just trying to be friendly’, ‘i swear she’s a childhood friend, there’s no way she would have feelings for me.’

but you knew. you weren’t blind to the way these girls all looked at seunghan.

it was the same way you looked at him.

and he let them, often times even encouraging them and it caused you to go insane.

‘just drive and stop fucking talking,’ you could tell he wants to say more, but the look you give him gets him to shut up, and makes the drive back to your shared apartment relatively silent.

when you got back you practically flung open the front door, kicking off your shoes and heading to your kitchen to pull out a drink.

‘you shouldn’t drink when you’re mad,’ seunghan stood by the enterance, your shoes in his hand as he watches you.

‘maybe you should stop making me mad then,’ you retorted back, ditching the shot glass and raising the tequila bottle to your lips.

it burnt as it slid down your throat, but did nothing to quell the pit of fire in your chest, furious at your boyfriend.

‘that’s enough,’ you didn’t even notice when he was by your side, as he snatched the bottle from your hand, screwing the cap back on and placing it on top of the cupboards, out of reach.

‘give it back,’ you sounded like a spoilt child, folding your arms.

‘no turning to drinking when you’re upset. we’ve talked about this.’

the tone of his voice did something to rile you up as you stepped closer to him.

‘don’t talk to me like i’m a child,’ you poked his chest, knowing how much it annoyed it.

‘it’s getting kind of frustrating watching you blow up over nothing and taking it out on me,’ he spoke to gritted teeth and you scoffed.

‘nothing? so that girl didn’t try to slide you her number with the bill.’

he was silent, trying to come up with a rebuttal but you didn’t let him.

‘honestly i’m getting sick of seeing you let girl after girl do whatever they want with you. what kind of boyfriend are you?’

‘the kind that puts up with you. nobody on this planet would be able to put up with your bratty attitude,’ your face fell at his harsh words and he could tell he struck a nerve.

‘you know i didn’t mean that babe i’m sorry. i just wanted us to enjoy our anniversary and not fight,’ he felt bad watching you sniffle as you blinked back some tears.

‘i hate when you say stuff like that,’ you mumbled, playing with your fingers.

in an instance his arms were around you, and he bent down to place a kiss on your lips.

‘my sweet girl, forgive me?’

it was hard to say no when he said it like that, when his eyes bore into yours, his palm massaging the flesh of your hips.

you nodded, still honestly not over it, but you figured there would be no point in arguing about it tonight.

‘good girl. let me fuck that attitude out of you.’

you believed that those moments when you were under seunghan, his arms either side of your head, chain dangling over your face, were when your chemistry shone the most.

he would whisper sweet nothings, about how your pussy belonged to no one else but him, about how good you were taking him.

‘look at you angel. such a good fucking girl,’ he enunciated each word with thrusts, your whines only egging him on.

‘eyes. open,’ he would demand.

he told you that looking into your eyes, watching as you struggled to keep them open, how you could barely look at him as your mouth fell open was a sight he wanted to remember forever.

eye contact during sex was a big thing for him and was always enough to finally send him over the edge, hugging you close into his chest as he filled you up.

eventually you would forget about whatever argument you might have been having, letting him trace shapes on your bare shoulder, kissing every single mark on your body.

‘just fight the feeling, it’s all we do. Inside it’s killing me, baby.’

‘it happened again?’ yunjin asked, and you cowered under her sharp gaze, nodding.

‘i told you that boy was bad news bestie. constantly surrounded by women, you can’t think that was all a coincidence.

your best friend, yunjin, was not the biggest fan of your relationship.

she was there for the many nights you would break down in her arms, body shaking as you sobbed about how inadequate and unnatractive you felt.

she was always on the other end of the phone as you rambled on about the girls that would constantly throw themselves at your boyfriend, and moreover how he did virtually nothing to stop them.

‘girl..’ yunjin’s voice trailed off and you knew what she was going to say.

‘i’m not doing it yunjin. i can’t break up with him,’ you protested, violently shaking your head.

sure seunghan sometimes made you want to stick his head in a blender.

but he was yours, and you were his, and you wouldn’t want it any other way.

these were the conflicting emotions that you both felt towards each other.

there was the want to fight your feelings, the mention of breaking up not foreign in your most heated arguments, but it would truthfully kill you both inside.

other people thought they were crazy, friends and family finding it hard to comprehend why they were both holding on to a relationship that caused so much pain, but you just couldn’t help yourselves.

‘yunjin is not your biggest fan right now,’ you teased seunghan later as you both sat at the table eating dinner, chatting about each others day.

‘i wish you would stop involving your friends in our problems,’ irritation was clear in his tone and you were suddenly in a not so playful mood.

your smile dropped and a scowl settled onto your face.

‘seriously hannie, i’m allowed to talk to my friends about my feelings. the same way you told sungchan when my whining was becoming too much for you,’ you were bringing up old situations, but your point still stood.

‘dont bring that up. i apologised for that already,’ he sighed, spoon now abandoned as he sat back.

‘all i’m doing is highlighting your hypocrisy,’ you always had something to say, always had to have the last say and seunghan was growing tired of it.

‘sure, forget i even said anything. are you done?’ he stood up, changing the topic as he planned to escape to the kitchen, using washing the dishes as an excuse.

‘walking away because you know you’re in the wrong. sounds like some shit you would do,’ he paused in his tracks placing the plates down on the counter top.

‘it’s always one thing or the other with you. if it’s not a girl, it’s my actions,’ he mumbled, but of course you still heard him.

‘maybe if you stopped doing things that would make me upset then we would not be having these issues.’

‘here we go. is it my fault that your ex cheated on you, why do i have to shoulder all of your frustrations,’ his voice rose a little, something he only did when he was really mad, but he had managed to really piss you off.

‘fuck you hong seunghan,’ you stormed off into your shared bedroom, slamming the door and only reopening it to throw out a pillow and some blankets.

‘i don’t think i’ll be able to sleep next to you without strangling you. take the couch,’ and then the door was shut again.

in the recent year, he had become accustomed to finding refuge on their couch, seeing as you were kicking him out of your room more and more.

he was past the phase of shouting at you to stop being ridiculous, or standing outside of the door demanding to be let back in.

there was just no point.

so he continued what he was doing, washing plates, wiping the stove clean, re arranging the glass cups.

he grabbed a granola bar and some juice from the fridge before settling on the couch, turning on the tv, flicking through channels for something to watch.

this lasted for about three days, neither of you speaking to the other.

he would leave breakfast out for you before going his own way, folding your laundry and leaving it outside the door.

you would make sure to make dinner when you got home first, both of you on opposite sides of the couch as you ate in silence.

you would notice him struggling to moisturise his back and be behind him in no time, reaching the spots he couldn’t.

all of these things were done without any words, and only worked because you knew each other so well.

six years being in a relationship, seunghan knew your body language like the back of his hand, and the same was said for you.

if you let out a little huff whilst trying to reach a bowl from the top shelf you would instantly see the extra arm extending above your head to help you.

after a meal you would rub small circles on your stomach and he would already be in the kitchen, water boiling as he got out the bags for your green tea.

when it got to saturday, one of the only days in the week where you would both be in the house, you realised how much you missed him.

the birds were chirping, the gentle lull of the music playing from your speaker as you leaned on the counter, tapping your foot as you waited for the hot water.

seunghan comes up behind you, head resting on your shoulder as his arms come around your waist.

you stay in this embrace, taking in each others air as you swayed from side to side in a soft rhythm.

it was moments like this, something so domestic , no words needed, just pure displays of affection.

he would kiss the top of your head, lifting you to sit on the top of their counter top as he picked up where you left off.

you watched your boyfriend with adoration in your eyes as he reached for your favourite mug, making tea just the way you like it.

‘it’s hot,’ he warned you as he saw how eager you were to bring the cup up to your lips.

‘so are you,’ you joked, really just missing the sound of his voice.

all feelings of disdain melted away once you heard the sound of his deep, hearty laugh, and the way his eyes would dissapear as he smiled widely.

gesturing for him to come closer, you waited till he was in between your legs, hands on your thighs, before you latched your arms around his neck.

he gave you a quick peck on the lips, just missing the feeling of your skin under his fingertips.

‘i love you,’ you mumbled, heart thumping as he his hands now come around your bare waist.

‘i love you too, my angel.’

and just like that it would feel like you were both on cloud nine, spending the entire day by each others side.

you would watch different rom coms, making fun of the dumb female lead and the cringy male lead, seunghan sometimes trying to imitate them.

you throw your head back in laughter, clutching at his hoodie sleeve to get him to stop, gasping for air.

when you told him you were craving pasta he was quick to jump to his feet.

‘chef seunghan to the rescue,’ he grinned as he scurried to the kitchen, making a big show out of everything.

you got your phone out, recording every step as he would exaggerate the way he cut up his ingredients, or go on about his imaginary culinary expertise.

‘you know this all reminds me of the summer of ‘07. most of our chefs had retired for the night and i was supposed to follow,’ he had began his ministrations.

‘ but then, a lovely old italian couple comes bursting through the door. i need the greatest pasta one could ever taste he basically demanded.’

‘the only experience i had back then was the ratatouille movie but you know what, i had faith from the crew i would deliver. and deliver i did.’

you could no longer contain your giggles, bursting into hysterical laughter as you practically rolled around on the floor.

‘haters ‘gon hate. you wish you were as amazing as me,’ he flicked his imaginary hair over his shoulder.

‘it smells like the pesto is burning, chef seunghan.’

‘oh shit.’

telling you his fake stories had taken away all of his attention, and he soon forgot about what he had originally set out to do.

so even though the sauce was charred, you still ate with gusto. all because seunghan had made it.

‘can i just say you would make an excellent housewife. look at you washing those dishes,’ you said, a teasing glint in your eye.

seunghan gasped, before splashing water in your direction, the sound of your squeals like music to his ears as you tried to shield yourself.

‘stop, i’m sorry. fine you win, no malewife for me,’ you push him away, saying the last part as if you were actually mad.

you both often joked about seunghan’s passion for cooking and cleaning being the perfect formula for a traditional wife.

you would tease him about retiring him so he would sit at home looking pretty as he cared for your kids.

his eyes narrow, a hand snaking around your waist as he tugs into his chest.

you press yourself closer to him, his scent now in your orbit as you nuzzle into his sweatshirt, enjoying his scent.

‘this is nice, i wish we could stay like this forever,’ he murmurs, heart fluttering as he pressed a kiss on the top of your head, wrapping his arms around you just a little tighter.

‘come sleep with me tonight?’ you lifted your head from his chest to ask and he grinned, kissing you again.

‘i want to kiss you. properly,’ seunghan confessed.

"then why won't you?"

"the problem is..," he leaned in as he spoke to you.

"if i kissed you i don't think i'd be able to stop."

"who said i wanted you to?"

he paused and beamed at you, and then he smothered you in kisses.

on the mouth, your cheeks, neck, telling you over and over again that he loved you as you laughed and clutched him.

every time he said it, you felt the words wrap fill her up.

they wrapped themselves around you, providing comfort, making you feel safe and cherished, pushing out any doubt.

he said it like he meant it.

he said it as if it was common knowledge, a fact that had been proven by scientists before.

seunghan loved you.

and you loved him back.

just two souls full of love, unable to depart from each other.

but as was always said, there was a thin line between love and hate.

you had only lasted two weeks before your next explosive argument.

‘but then i remember that you got a temper and i got no filter.’

‘you’re blowing this out of proportion,’ seunghan calls after you as you find yourself once again angry in your house.

what should have been a fun night for the both of you had quickly turned into grounds for yet another argument.

‘blowing what out of proportion? did she or did she not kiss you?’ your nostrils flared and your head felt hot.

anger surged through your veins and you couldn’t control your temper.

‘would you just listen to me. you know i would never do that to you, it just-‘

‘do i want to hear yet another excuse from you hannie? it’s always poor me i had no idea that the attractive girl i’m flirting with would take it the wrong way,’ you cut him off, a trait of yours he didn’t like.

‘i was not flirting. honestly can we act like adults. please,’ he pleads, but it only makes you want to be more childish.

‘i should say the same thing mr i couldn’t say no to her.’

‘here we go again,’ he massaged his temples, the stress starting to weigh on him.

‘yes here we go again. is setting boundaries so fucking hard for you.’

‘language,’ he speaks curtly, reminding you of how much he hated when you used harsh language against him.

‘don’t tell me how to speak. answer my fucking questions hong seunghan.’

‘i did set boundaries what do you mean? i very clearly pushed her away and told her to never try that again,’ he was exasperated, unable to understand how someone else’s wrongdoing was his fault.

‘great fucking job. setting the boundary after she already tried to stick her tongue down your throat,’ your tone was dripping with sarcasm, and you even started slow clapping.

‘be honest, you wanted to fuck her didn’t you?’

‘for god’s sake. can you stop,’ he was reaching breaking point, exhibiting great restraint so that he didn’t say anything he would regret.

‘that’s what this is about, isn’t it? you must have been having a field day, she was even wearing a cute little red dress, your favourite colour,’ you went on, your insecurities catching up to you once again.

when things like this occurred it served as a constant reminder that your boyfriend was attractive and that many girls would be willing to be in your place.

your track record with guys was not the best, one cheating on you with a close friend, the other a cousin.

you had a long history of being let down and heartbroken by men.

there was always a nagging voice in your mind that it was only a matter of time before seunghan followed suit.

‘i can’t do this anymore,’ he ran his hand through his hair, his body leaning on the kitchen counter.

‘ah so you can go back to minjeong. please don’t let me stop you from achieving your fantasies,’ you picked up your bag, searching for your own car keys, hoping he wouldn’t be able to see the hot tears streaming down your face.

‘here you go, running away from your problems instead of facing them. we can’t keep doing this you know.’

‘then maybe we shouldn’t anymore ,’ your words shocked him and he froze on the spot.

‘find a girl who isn’t as shitty and insecure as me, and maybe i might find one man that doesn’t feel like cheating on me,’ you chuckled bitterly, looking like a mad woman with one shoe on, the other in hand.

his chest was heaving at this point, his ears red hot as he waited for your next move.

‘do you really mean it,’ he asked quietly, his voice barely above a whisper as his eyes started getting glossy.

shrugging you slipped the second shoe on and grabbed your jacket, leaving an emotional seunghan behind.

‘so we’re like a sandstorm, when we get to blows.’

this was the nature of your arguments.

like a sandstorm they were intense, and volatile, like the blowing winds of conflict that brought about the chaos and the inability to find solace or resolution in each others actions.

emotional turbulence consumed both parties as they clashed.

they carried the pain of failed attempts to reconcile, living with the consequences that arose from playing with the dynamics of their volatile relationship.

underneath all of the bravado and spiteful words, lay a desire to maintain composure and restore harmony in the relationship.

as much as it didn’t seem like it, you hated it when you fought.

but there was great difficulty in achieving peace, your arguments normally escalating quickly and dangerously, leaning wreckage in your wake.

only this time you weren’t sure your relationship would stand the test of time.

deciding it was best to hear the opinions of someone you trusted, you headed towards a bar that you frequented, looking for its owner, your close friend.

‘it’s not normal to fight this much,’ shotaro, your greatest confidant let you know, patting the top of your hand.

you knew that. that the amount of times you would have your disputes, seunghan with his temper and you without a filter, it wasn’t healthy.

it was beginning to become a cycle, a few days of peace before the storm would come and shake the both of you up.

‘what do i do,’ you sighed, exhausted and hurt.

‘you know what you need to do.’

with shotaro’s words buried at the forefront of your heart, you returned back to your home.

the lights were off, the glow from the television screen illuminating your boyfriends eyes.

you both looked at one another, at the same stage of fatigue as you shrugged your coat off and found refuge in each other.

not another word was said that night, but the silence filled in for their lack of conversation.

and you spent the next two weeks like this.

hollow, lifeless versions of yourselves.

whenever a problem would arise he could see you using all of your strength to hold your tongue, turning the other way.

intimacy just wasn’t the same anymore, the both of you seemingly having a lot to think about.

there was no more laughter, or joking around with each other.

the light drained from your eyes, and you had to wonder if this was what life was meant to be like.

so tired of fighting that you lose your voices, instead trying to pretend like everything is alright.

you started to leave the house more, needing an escape from this prison that had been created in the place you used to call home.

seunghan would often have to come and pick you up, you letting out all your grievances by drowning your sorrows in alcohol, like you always did.

his arms would wrap around your waist, guiding you into your bedroom.

he would patiently hold your hair back as you emptied the contents of your stomach into the toilet.

he would sit on the edge of the bathtub, using one hand to hold you up as you soaked in the bubble bath.

when he would dry you up, sleep fast approaching your spent body, you would mumble some words.

it would always be about him; ‘i hate the way she looked at you, ‘i wish you didn’t go and meet up with her yesterday i know she likes you.’

but the words uttered from your mouth last night made him freeze, a chill running down his spine as his worst fear came true.

‘i don’t think i know how to love you anymore.’

it was obvious that neither of you were happy, but as selfish as it was, seunghan couldn’t imagine a life without you.

he met you at the start of adulthood, and now that he was nearing the end of his twenties, he couldn't see himself trying again with anyone else.

so he acted like you hadn’t said anything, the dull ache in his chest starting to become a part of him.

but try as he might, he just couldn’t forget it.

they said that drink words were sober thoughts, that the possibility that you didn’t mean it was low.

even at work now, it circulated in his mind, occupying every crevice of his brain.

head in his hands, he struggled to focus on the presentation due in a couple of hours, his screen stuck on the same page.

he felt his phone buzz, and in his dream like state, he viewed the message.

we need to talk. come home my love.

he leapt out of his seat, listing off some type of excuse for why he had to leave the office early as he practically sprinted down the company stairs and to the car park.

he was sure he had ran a couple of lights but he didn’t care.

his heart was thumping, chewing on his lip as the worst case scenario continued to play in his head.

when he entered your home, making his way to the living room he saw you in a similar state.

‘why were there so many suitcases?’ bile rose to his throat and he almost wanted to turn away, avoid the inevitable.

as he stood planted in his spot, you lifted your head.

offering him a weak smile, he could see how red your eyes were, your nose a similar shade and his stomach turned violently.

‘i’ll do better. i promise baby please,’ in an instant he was at your feet, clutching you like he was scared you would dissapear.

‘seunghan-‘

‘i know, you must have been so frustrated. it can’t have been easy, i just need to- i need to be better, i’ll do whatever you want,’ tears were starting to fall, splashing onto your jeans.

‘i love you, i love you so much. loving you is the only thing i need.’

biting your lip to prevent yourself from crying too, you lifted his head from your leg.

as hard as it was, you knew that the both of you couldn’t continue on like this.

‘take a piece of my love, we’ve been through enough stuff, probably need to grow up and away.’

‘my sweet boy,’ you used your thumb to swipe his tears, an intense amount of adoration and tenderness displayed on your features.

the tone of your voice, how soft it was as you cupped his face in your hand, it only made him more devastated.

‘these mirrors know our secrets. they’ve witnessed our wild, our highs spent riding the wind. and they watched as all the storms started circling our dunes. if they could speak, their voices just might crack and shake and shatter the glass into fragments.’

‘we’ve been through enough stuff, now we need to grow up and away,’ your shoulders dropped in resignation, struggling to let out what you wanted to say.

‘we can’t try one more time?’ he was defeated, desperate for a lifeline, something that would convince you to stay.

‘i don’t like the people we’re becoming,’ you whispered.

‘i was scared. that one day the hatred would overpower my love for you. that one day you’ll no longer make my heart swell, but burn with rage.’

it hurt, because they both knew it was true.

it was glaringly obvious that there was a need for the both of them to move forward, away from their now toxic situation and find peace.

they had both been through enough turmoil and the sentiment that it was time for the both of them to separate for their own sakes was shared.

‘i want to protect the love that we shared. i don’t want all of those fond memories to go to waste,’ you caressed his face, soaking him all on as if it would be the last time to do.

seunghan, although anguished, knew that what she was saying was right.

six years of being together, he didn’t want those good years to be marred by bitterness, to be trampled over.

‘i love you hong seunghan, enough to let you go.’

‘i love you, more than you would ever comprehend,’ till their final moments he was sure she still wouldn’t.

so even though it tore his heart into pieces, he let the love of his life press one last kiss on his cheek, before leaving, not one look back.

even though you didn’t make it to the end of his story, he will always have the corner folded down on your pages, because it was his favourite.

[leahthaynor]

Funny how antishippers act like they were the most morally people in this world but later they are the ones harrassing someone over a FUCKING. FICTIONAL. SHIP or/and telling them they are monsters, they are pedos, they are disgusting, they need help. PARDON ME, BUT IF YOU TELL A REAL PERSON TO KILL THEMSELVES OVER SOMETHING FICTIONAL, YOU ARE THE ONE WHO NEEDS HELP. YOU ARE THE MONSTER HERE.

"Anyone who likes a 'pedophilic' ship is a pedophile in real life and should be harassed". EXCUSE ME?

JUST SO YOU CAN KNOW, people can ship a ship and STILL hate those things in real life. We are not FUCKING IDIOTS. We KNOW the difference between REALITY and FICTION. I FUCKING HATE pedophiles and I FUCKING HATE PEDOPHILIA and I think EVERYONE who dares to hurt a child (and hurt a child like that) HAS TO BURN IN HELL.

And just because I ship certain """"·pedophile"""" ships that DOESN'T mean I don't condemn pedophilia in real life. I, as many others, like the bond between some people in a fictional story, and I like how their relationship evolves throughout the fics. BUT THAT DOESN'T MEAN I WOULD ACCEPT A TEENAGER DATING AN ADULT IN REAL LIFE.

Everything in a STORY can be AS BAD as it is in real life, but that's the thing. IS NOT REAL.

Just because a person likes """"pedophile"""" ships doesn't mean they support Pedophilia. And if we talk about """""pedophile""""" ships, let me ask a question. What do you think of terror movies? What do you think of gore movies, and many other movies? Because by your logic, no one should be allowed to write dark content or about morally questionable things.

Stephen King (and other terror authors) shouldn't be allowed to write terror stories, because by your logic, he supports killing in real life.

George Lucas shouldn't be allowed to write about Star Wars, because in that story the Empire blows up a planet, and by your logic, that means he support genocide.

See how STUPID do you sound with your arguments?

And I DON'T CARE about you harassing a real pedophile because being that is disgusting. BUT THE THING IS THAT MANY OF US AREN'T PEDOPHILES! Many of us are just HUMANS. MORALLY humans who only want to ship whatever we want in peace. We only want to ship whatever we want in FICTION. Tom and Harry, Vlad and Danny, Slade and Dick, and many other "proship" ships. All of them are CHARACTERS. They aren't REAL. They can't get hurt by their ship. And even then, you keep harassing us. You keep hating us. YOU KEEP SAYING US TO KILL OURSELVES BECAUSE OF THAT.

FUNNY AND IRONIC HOW YOU CLAIM TO BE A GOOD AND MORAL PERSON WHEN YOU ARE THE ONE TELLING A REAL PERSON TO KILL THEMSELVES OVER A FICTIONAL THING!!

[lady-djarin]

yes sir

din djarin x f!reader (drabble)

warnings: pure smut, semi-brat tamer din, outdoor sex, spanking, some degradation, teasing, p in v unprotected sex (wrap your willies!) 18+ minors dni GO CHILDREN GET OUT

word count: 1.8k

a/n: just a short drabble… tbh sometimes i hate writing the end of a smut story, i never know what to do lol. i just really wanted to write brat tamer shit with din, enjoy my lovelies!

* ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆　｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

Three days. You had been hunting this quarry for three days, non-stop. you were tired, covered in sweat and dirt and not happy. The tropical landscape normally would have been your cup of tea, if you had a large cup of spotchka instead of chasing a madman through the forest. You and your Mandalorian companion were growing impatient with this hunt but the bounty was large enough to make it worth it. He was wanted for trying to blow up a government building on Coruscant and multiple accounts of aggravated assault; clearly a gnarly guy. You knew he was no match for the two of you.

You two worked like a well oiled machine, complimenting each other in perfect harmony. He was the big strong brute force and you were the sly and stealthy one. You were both smart that’s for sure and that’s why this case was particularly frustrating. On the third day, the sky decided to open up and pour down on you as if you didn’t have enough issues. You both groaned at the first droplet, knowing what was coming your way. Almost as soon as the first drop hit your head, the next thousand rained down all at once you both quickly ducked into a cave nearby, just deep enough to shelter both your bodies from the downpour.

“Dank Farik…” The large man slumped down on the wall of the cave, a small thunk from his helmet hitting the stone. You did the same on the opposite side, your legs touching in the small space. “We just can't catch a break.”

“Maybe if you stopped picking the hardest bounties we could actually get some of them done…,” you mumbled, only slightly to yourself.

“Me? You’re the one who suggested we follow behind and stay quiet instead of just jumping his ass in the first place!” You were both exhausted, and you knew it, but that didn't stop you both from getting in each other's faces. It's normally very civil between you both, some slight disagreements but nothing serious. You could recognise the anger bubbling up in your gut but didn't have the energy to stop yourself.

“Maker forbid I have any input! You're always the one deciding what we do and where we go next! Fuck, I’m so tired of it…” You got up and paced across the entrance to the cave, like a lothcat behind bars. Running your hands over your face you could tell the Mandalorian got up to meet you. He was on you in a second.

“If you’re complaining, I can leave you on this fucking planet for all I care!” Mando never curses, like ever. You knew he was pissed, especially the way his voice tore through the modulator and he was backing you against the stone wall.

“Maybe you should!” The air suddenly became wired, a tension running between you two. You were both breathing heavily, you could see it fogging his visor this close. The anger burned in your blood, so why was the only thing you could focus on the sudden need to have him touch you. Your body screamed for his hands to roam your skin, wishing his hand was around your neck. You were ashamed to say that this was actually turning you on.

“Don't try me, sweetheart,” his voice was a low rumble that you felt in your chest. Just as he went to turn away from you, you shook your head as you sarcastically rolled your eyes.

“Yes sir.”

He paused, his heart stopping as he smirks under his helmet. Sir? Why did he like hearing that so much from you? You had always been a little bit of a smart mouth but ‘Sir’? He never thought he would love one word so much.

“What?” He stepped even closer, pressed up against you entirely. “What did you say?”

“I said… ‘yes sir’,” you knew exactly what you did, but didn’t know if it would actually work, until now. He didn’t say anything for a moment, just tilted his helmet at you, pinning you down with his gaze. You started to worry that he might have taken it the wrong way but when his hand grazed up your arm, you knew you read him right. You had a feeling he felt the same as you but didn’t know for sure until now. Before you could even think, his large hand wrapped around your throat, just tight enough to make your head spin. Finally, the tension was broken and you smiled against his helmet.

“You're such a brat, you know that,” you smiled wider, knowing what was coming. “Am I going to have to teach you a lesson?” You felt your heart drum in your chest and your core clenched around nothing.

“Maybe…” The end of the word was strangled by his palm pressing on your vocal cords. The seams in the leather gloves were pressing deliciously into your delicate skin, somehow turning you on more.

Suddenly you were spun around, your hands flying out to keep you from colliding with the cave wall. His hands disappeared from your body for only a second before one returned to the back of your neck, and they were his bare hands.

“Unbutton your pants…now,” his voice was something you had never heard before, something almost scary. You did as he instructed, practically ripping the button and zipper off. Before you could push them down, Mando tore them down over your ass along with your underwear, the cold air causing you to jump. You thought that was as shocking as it would get but maker, were you wrong. Before your mind could register anything else, a loud crack split the air as his hand came down on your ass cheek. You shrieked in response, a sting left behind along with no doubt a large red mark in the shape of his hand. “You like that? Hmm? Like when I spank you for being a brat?”

Another slap. You were dripping, your slick coating your inner thighs as his hand came down on your ass another time. The hand around your neck was tightening with every spank. How could this man already read you like an open book, how could he know your every desire? Your brain was trying to think but all your body could focus on was the low grumble of his voice as he started to roam his hands over your soft skin, his fingers starting to trail up your inner thighs. Mando used his boot to kick open your legs, spreading them without having to ask. You moaned softly as he pushed on your upper back, bending you over as you were on full display for him.

“Mmm, look at you, so easy for me.” You were almost ashamed of yourself at how easily you followed his command, considering how much you fought him in every other aspect of your partnership. You were putty in his hands now, and he knew it. He reveled in the feeling of you relinquishing control to him, knowing that you were completely his in this moment. “You're so pretty when you listen, so obedient.” You were trying hard not to mewl at every word he said but for a man of few words, you wish he never stopped talking.

His fingers were grazing every part of you except where you wanted him most. You tried to rock against his hand when he got close to your clit, but never close enough to build any friction. You grew frustrated after not receiving enough attention on your clit, your legs already beginning to shake.

“M-Mando, please, just to-touch me,” you were trying not to sound too pathetic but the way he was teasing you, that was becoming harder.

“I like you begging for me.” Another loud smack on your ass earning a squeak from you. When all that came from you was a moan, his hand came down on your reddening skin again. “Do you want me to touch you?”

“Yes! Maker, please just– please, I need more,” you begged, begged for just one touch. Like magic, his fingers found your dripping center and circled your bundle of nerves. Your whole body sagged at the releaf, pleasure spreading in your veins like fire. He moaned, moaned, at seeing you respond to him and your slick on his bare fingers. He could tell that he was going to lose control soon, getting lost in the feeling of you. “Mmm, Man-Mando, more… I need more,” you whined again, hoping to get him to relent.

“Fuck– I can’t wait to be inside you,” you heard the sound of his zipper being opened and your whole body burned with excitement. You felt the large man shift behind you, his hands gripping your hips to keep you in place. “You want me so bad? Fine, I’ll give you what you want, but I want you to scream my name.”

“Yes Mando please, wha-whatever you want,” you were a stuttering mess, the only thing on your mind was finally feeling him inside you.

“No,” he stopped himself for a moment with his tip lined up with your entrance. “Din. My name is Din.”

His name. He gave you his name, his real name. You felt your head swim and your heart ache. Not only was he giving you your deepest desire but he was giving you a part of him.

“Din,” you liked the taste of his name. “I need you.”

A low grunt escaped his chest as he thrusted his hips forward, sheathing himself fully inside you. You both froze, the feeling so incredible and new, it felt like your world was turning on its axis. You had waited so long to know what he felt like, what he would fuck like. He was certainly not small, he was filling you up like you had never felt before. Once he adjusted to the feeling, he started moving his hips slowly before snapping them into your ass. The metal covering his thighs hit the back of yours and the cold bite of the feeling brought to your attention that he was still fully clothed and a helmet on his head. It felt almost wrong how much you loved it all; his roughness, the contrast in clothing and this all happening basically out in the open.

Your hands were barely holding you upright against the cave wall as he pounded into you. His length hit that perfect spot inside you every time he moved, causing the coil in your lower stomach to tighten again. Your knees began to shake, almost buckling under the pleasure of Din’s motions. As you started to slide down the wall, Din wrapped his arms around your body holding you tight to his chest, never ceasing to hammer into you.

“All this time… this is what you needed? Huh? This is all it took to get rid of that attitude? You fucking brat.”

You couldn’t even respond, you were done for.

“Use your words…”

“Y—yes…yes sir.”

You were sure that if anyone was in those woods, they heard both of your screams.

[liltaz-asatreat]

I just realized something!!!

So, at the end of The Suffering Game, right before they go up on the catwalk, I always found it an interesting character choice that Justin made to make Taako fight Magnus so hard about him going up on the catwalk to strut. Him allowing himself to be vulnerable and admit to being scared aside, I didn't really Get why Taako would fight so hard about this One Thing when this seemed like it should have been right up his alley.

Like, in the very beginning, he couldn't offer up his resume to Lydia and Edward fast enough after seeing them strut and perform down the runway, and before that, he was a showman, and basically his whole identity was shaped around that. Acting confident and showing off is pretty sufficiently baked into his DNA.

I thought at first it was because of the general shit day he was having being stuck in Wonderland and all that, and maybe this had been one of the worst days of his life that he could remember, but still like, he's had really shit days before. And in none of those days have we seen or heard of him backing down from a chance to perform, an act that also boosts his self confidence when he really isn't feeling it. And throughout Wonderland, no matter what the liches threw at him, even being almost killed by that machine, he didn't fight them or anyone about doing anything. He did what he was asked, bitching about it sometimes maybe, but he didn't even take a penalty at the wheel like Magnus and Merle did. I also thought maybe this was just the breaking point? That he was tired of doing what he was told that he really didn't want to do and would hurt him in some way just for the liches' entertainment?

And maybe that's all true, but then I remembered the last thing they took from him at the wheel: Taako's beauty.

This happened maybe 15 minutes before they approached the catwalk, considering they only went a few rounds in combat in the boss rush room, and each round of combat lasts 6 seconds, so losing that is still raw and fresh on his mind. Sure, he put up the illusion spell, and he didn't physically feel any change, but just knowing that he did change in some way and that he didn't have access to a reflective surface to see for himself what damage had been done had to have dealt a huge blow to his self confidence and his sense of identity. If he's not the most beautiful elf to ever grace the planet anymore, who is he?

He's a wizard. And a chef. But there are plenty of wizards and chefs out there. What set him apart was that not only was he the best at both, but his looks ensured everyone would love him.

Not to mention he only started to regain the chef identity back only a few months previous after the Chalice showed him he wasn't the one who poisoned Glamour Springs.

He wasn't feeling vulnerable enough to admit to being scared and fight about going up on the catwalk because of the liches. He was scared because he didn't know who he was anymore, and the idea of trying to act the same with only the flimsy veil of his illusion magic hiding who he truly is, a person, mind you, he still has not seem for himself yet, is terrifying and insulting. What if he can't put on a good enough show? What if everyone can see through his facade and hates him? He was already a fraud-show-chef-recently-turned-out-to-not-be-a-fraud-actually, and now he has to act like he isn't a fraud show personality in front of the people who already know the truth?

And Magnus could see what he really looks like now, and he's acting like everything is fine???

His whole world got upended yet again, and sure, Magnus and Merle are close enough to him again for him to feel like he can be a little honest with them, but that doesn't stop him from feeling incredulous with what Magnus is asking him to do.

He's just a wizard now. Maybe can reclaim the identity of a chef. And those two out of three main pillars of his former identity never felt so small.

[nortism]

doctor who liveblog pt 39

s7 ep13 nightmare in silver

- classic heads poking out the door one by one

- i’ve not seen classic who but that guy looks the amalgamation of all their doctors

- always the fucking cybermen

- hello warwick davis

- obviously they’re gonna wander off

- uh oh cyberman

- uh oh cyberbugs

- uh oh the cyberman got the little kid

- no blowing up this planet is good advice tbh

- uh oh half cybermen.

- uh oh he got cybered

- they really need a new companion handbook so clara can get how serious cybermen are

- oh that is quite a few cybermen

- oh no the most thing didn’t work

- porridge is the emperor?!

- i think i would have taken him on up on the marriage proposal

s7 ep14 the name of the doctor

- ayyy gallifrey

- oh the first doctor hello

- omg all the classic doctors

- impossible girl lets go

- MADAME VASTRA!!

- RIVER!! i’ve been wondering where she got to

- trenzalore sounds like an anti depressant

- JENNY?!!?!::)/£ NOOOOOO

- oh i don’t like these guys

- what do u mean an ex, u guys just got married??

- uh oh he’s crying, this is unsettling

- oh shit we’re going to the doctor’s grave

- the tardis always the most sensible person around

- oh giant tardis

- hello river

- RIVER’S GRAVE?!

- yay jenny

- oh this fucking guy again

- this is not good

- JENNY NOOOO

- strax omg

- omg clara no

- oh she said the line

- goodbye river

- ohhh the leaf

- this whole name business feels very much like a trans allegory

- hello john hurt as the doctor

mini episode - the night of the doctor

- i’ve been told there’s other mini episodes but this is the one that’s on iplayer

- not sure i got that but crazy stuff

the day of the doctor

- ooh the old intro

- she’s a teacher now??

- WITH BILLIE PIPER???

- also hello david tennant or whatever

- hello billie piper??

- is this meant to be rose?!

- wait she’s the conscience??

- ohhhhhh

- i forgot he married elizabeth i

- oh hello painted david tennant

- david what has happen to your hair?!?

- this is so silly

- uh oh zygons

- jack harkness mention!!

- NO CLARA!!

- yes then clara !!

- that’s a lot of dead children

- ofc the door was unlocked

- ALLLL THIRTEENNNNNN

- oh this is hype as hell

- ohhh the war doctor turning into nine

- i think i supposed to know who the curator is but i don’t

- that was a crazy crossover, i loved it. i just wish eccelston didn’t hate being the doctor bc i would have liked it if all three of them showed up

the time of the doctor

- oh yes fake dating subplot

- ohhh gallifrey

- oh great the silence

- the tardis should work by remote

- oh great the wall crack

- shitttt trenzalore

- oh he pulled a the parting of ways on clara

- how has he aged??

- oh he’s only got a finite number of lives, like a cat

- not again, poor clara

- oh he’s old old

- oh bonus regeneration power

- that’s not peter capaldi??

- oh he’s still cooking

- aww amelia

- AMY 😭😭

- oh the bow tie

- PETER CAPALDI!! i hope he treats clara better bc my girl has been through the wars

- tragic we didn’t get to see him looking awkward in the bow tie, that’s always my favourite part of each regeneration

[jupitermelichios]

so you've probably seen the news that riverdale ended with the main 4 in an actual, canonical, poly relationship

and that's amazing for a bunch of reasons, including the fact that the number of canon poly relationships on tv are miniscule and also it brings the number of canonically straight main cast members down to 1. Ethel is legitimately the show's token straight representation. love that for her

but to get the full impact of that news, you really also need to know that in order for the polycule to form:

Jughead's transdimensional angel girlfriend has to destroy multiple other timelines to create a new stable timeline for the polycule to live in. timelines destroyed include the one where jughead is immortal and trapped forever in a bunker underneath riverdale, and one where tony and fangs's magical timetravelling gay baby is fighting an evil wizard for control of a train full of evil ghosts

Jughead's magical transdimensional angel girlfriend then returns to the newly created main timeline, and restores the main cast's memories of all the other timelines, which she does by forcing them to watch the show riverdale. That is not a joke or a metaphor she even goes to the trouble to bring a colour tv back to the 1950s so they can watch in colour, except for Clay and Julian, because they did not exist in any of the previous timelines and they're sad about it and refuse to watch a show they're not in.

(Well, Julian technically did exist in the original timeline, but only as a ghost possessing a haunted doll, which doesn't really count)

(Also for some reason as well as the main cast, she makes dilton doily watch it, despite his only contributions to the show being a) dying as a human sacrifice in the og timeline, b) trying to blow up the planet and then dying because of it in the rivervale timeline, and c) gay kevin telling people he has the biggest dick in the 1950s tlmeline, and honestly, I feel like it would be kinder to just not show him any of that)

(ethel does not get to watch riverdale, because she did the only sensible thing any riverdale character has ever done and fucked off to a normal town to have an actual life, because as well as being the token straight character, she's also the token sane one)

After watching Riverdale, all of the main cast except Jughead and Betty decide it sucks and they hate it, and ask tabby to rewipe their memories and only give them the cute bits and not all the serial killers and shit, because the writers have run out of time for subtle metaphors and they weren't sure the audience had fully grasped that the entirely last season of the show is a weird metacommentary on the criticisms people have of the show riverdale so they're just straight up going to have archie andrews look straight to camera and say that the show should have been more like the comics

also I have no idea how only showing them the happy bits works, because that removes 90% of the entire plot so I assume they just have a bunch of completely out of context sex scenes and meals at the diner and nothing else. possibly also some musical numbers, idk if I'd count those as happy memories personally

Betty and Jug chose to keep their memories of the Gargoyle King and Betty's 2 long-lost secret gay serial killer brothers because they're edgy (and also because the writers are annoyed at all the people who say the show should be more like the comics, so they have the smartest characters say they liked the actually and everyone else is being a wimp about all the serial killers, because again, we have run out of time for subtlety)

Having had his memories restored, Jug's like "oh hi tabitha, my secret transdimensional angel girlfriend, I haven't seen you for months, I've really missed you. I'm so glad you're you're back. i love you so much"

And she responds by telling him that she'd chosen to write herself out of the timeline when she fixed in, and she has to return to the great big diner in the sky (not a joke, heaven is a diner in the riverdale universe and, it is heavily implied, also in our universe, so that's something to look forward to), so she freezes time halfway through kissing him and just nopes out of time and space. which is also how I would handle all break ups if I had angel powers tbh

since jug is now single, and all 4 of them just got multiple timeline's worth of fucking one another mainlined straight into their brains, the main 4 decide to all start dating

(they are probably inspired to do this in part by betty's sister, who in the new timeline is a burlesque performer who's stage name is Polly Amorous)

As far as I can tell from the last episode, they tell gay kevin about this and literally no one else, for reasons known only to themselves

also genuinely can't tell if this was the writers wanting a poly relationship for them, or if they just couldn't be bothered with the internet slap fights that would have followed them picking individual monogomous ships to be endgame

they also, hilariously, refuse to say that archie and jug are dating, I assume due to network restrictions, despite archie being canonically bi at this point, so betty's just like 'well sometimes I go to veronica's and we fuck, and the boys do... something we're not going to talk about'

the final episode of the show is a flash forward where as a now old betty is dying, jughead's ghost shows her memories of their teens, in which it's reveal that she has just straight up forgotten about being in a poly relationship

literally she looks at her teen self and is like "wow, I seem weirdly close to veroica jughead and archie" and Jug's ghost has to be like "because we were dating. how do you not remember that we were dating? what the hell? did I mean nothing to you?!"

also old betty specifically seeks out reggie and is like "hey you know how me and you dated, and you and veronica were together for years in multiple timelines, and you archie keep declaring your undying love for one another and nearly fucking, well we're all dating and we specifically decided not to invite you, sucks to be you" and walks away and I have no idea why she did it. justice for reggie

anyway RIP to the greatest television show ever made, it was so gay and so deranged and so meta, and there really will never be anything quite like it again

[pluckyredhead]

I am still reading my way through the Fourth World! Last time I talked about all the stuff published in the 70s; now let's talk about the 80s.

Kirby:

New Gods #12: In 1984, DC reprinted Kirby's original New Gods run and threw in an extra issue (not to be confused with Gerry Conway's New Gods #12) so that Kirby could finish the story. This was partially DC being nice and trying to give an aging Kirby money, and partially not because they refused to let him produce the ending he wanted, which was Orion and Darkseid both dying. After a couple scrapped versions, we got this, in which Orion goes down in a hail of laser fire. It's a real bummer, but at least he's extremely homoerotic with his best buddy Lightray first? (Oh, they're getting a whole separate post, just you wait.)

The Hunger Dogs: This "graphic novel" (it's only 64 pages but back then that counted) came out a year later and was the "conclusion" to the Fourth World saga. Once again DC and Kirby butted heads because Kirby really wanted to kill everyone and DC was like "But our IP!!!" In the final version, only supporting characters Himon and Esak die, which is sad but not going to do any damage to DC's bottom line.

It turns out Orion is not dead despite being riddled with holes (there's an intriguing suggestion that he has some kind of healing ability because he possesses the Life Equation, which like everything else in this book is presented with zero context or explanation), which is great because it gives him an opportunity to be homoerotic with Lightray again, although he has also been given an Obligatory Heterosexual Love Interest, Himon's daughter Bekka.

Anyway this book is baffling. Highfather blows up New Genesis (everyone survives) to taunt Darkseid, who is overthrown by the downtrodden masses of Apokalips. There's some shouting about the dangers of technology and maybe some anti-Cold War rhetoric about stockpiling weapons, but it's all so hysterically overblown - Kirby at his most grandiose - that it's nearly impossible to parse beyond "war bad." I do appreciate that Orion is able to break free of his rage and death wish and just...leave Darkseid behind, but the fact that he's emotionally mature enough to do that now comes pretty much out of nowhere. The art is extremely powerful, at least.

My final thought is that Kirby clearly gleefully ignored everything Englehart, Conway, et al. did and I love that for him.

Super Powers: Darkseid fights the Justice League. This was a comic created to sell a toy line and you can really, really tell.

Post-Kirby:

Legends: I've read this before, but it's great. If you like pre-Flashpoint DC, you should definitely read this, which introduces Amanda Waller and the Suicide Squad, sets up the JLI, and brings Wonder Woman into the post-Crisis DCU. Neither Orion nor Scott are present but this (along with the Happyland issue of the original Forever People) really makes the case for why Glorious Godfrey is one of Kirby's best and scariest Fourth World creations. And I will never complain about John Byrne art.

Forever People (1988): Blecch. It's definitely arrogant to read something and think "I know for certain that Jack Kirby, a man I never met who died when I was a child, would have hated this" but like. I'm right. And it's obvious from the very first page.

Basically, at the end of Kirby's series, the FP were marooned on a random, idyllic planet somewhere with no hope of getting home, so they embraced it as their new, hopeful future. This catches up with them years later, with Serifan (the sweet young kid) drooling and raving alone in the woods, Vykin (the only Black character) dead (he gets better), and the rest of them...living in yuppie paradise? Apparently the planet they ended up on was populated (missing the point) with "primitive" people (racist) so they decided to use Mother Box to forcibly "evolve" the people (SO RACIST) and were able to create...modern-day America? Literally why would they even do that, they're from New Genesis. Mark is mayor and married with kids, and Big Bear and Beautiful Dreamer are married to each other with a baby on the way.

Anyway a nebulous villain/evil force called "the Dark" undoes everything which brings Vykin back to life but takes away Mark's wife and kids (she's alive but still "primitive" and the kids were never born) and Bear and Dreamer's unborn child, which means the only female protagonist spends the whole rest of the miniseries clutching her stomach and going "my baby!" I absolutely don't mean to make light of pregnancy loss but this doesn't feel like a story about a three-dimensional woman experiencing pregnancy loss. It feels like a story that reduces a woman to a) whether or not she's having a baby, which is the only thing she cares about and b) the central point on a vague love triangle with Mark and Bear. SIGH.

Meanwhile they all go to Earth for...some reason...and then Mark gets possessed by the Dark and is evil for a while but then they manage to summon Infinity Man and Mark isn't evil anymore. And it's bafflingly revealed that they're all from Earth in the first place from random different historical time periods and Highfather kidnapped them as babies. Okay???

The Forever People are perhaps Kirby's purest and most optimistic characters, and this cynical take on them actively angered me even though I don't actually care about them at all. I've also basically never cared for J. M. DeMatteis's writing outside of JLI, and I don't like Paris Cullins's art, so this book just had absolutely nothing going for it for me.

Cosmic Odyssey: I do not trust Jim Starlin with the New Gods since I know he's going to kill them all off in 2007. This is...fine, I guess? Starlin really does not like Orion, who he has slaughter a bunch of innocent, brainwashed Thanagarians, and also be deeply bigoted against Forager. Everything else is...fine? It's basically all action. The only character who has an emotional arc is John Stewart because this is the story where he fails to save Xanshi because he's being an overconfident moron, but the moral at the end of the comic is like "Get over it already" so...that happens. It's fine.

But man, that Mike Mignola artwork is worth the price of admission alone. That guy's great at drawing.

Mister Miracle Special: The plot of this is that Barda doesn't want Scott to be an escape artist anymore because it's too dangerous, even though a) she's a warrior of Apokalips and b) he's an active Justice League member and she seems fine with that. So okay.

Mister Miracle (1989): Okay, so the basic premise here - Scott and Barda try to adjust to normal life in the suburbs - is good. And it's a spiritual spinoff of JLI, which is of course one of my favorite books of all time. But this book is like...imagine someone screaming "Iiiiiiit's WACKY!" over your shoulder constantly while you're reading. That's what reading Mister Miracle (1989) is like. Highfather wears a tuxedo! Funky Flashman shows up a lot! Scott fights a giant alien noodle! Some of it is actually funny, but most of it is trying so hard to be funny that it's just exhausting.

There are some interesting character moments in there. Scott, Barda, and Orion all get to call Highfather out. Orion mentions wishing he was closer to Scott. There are hints at Scott's depression and suicidal tendencies, which I find really fascinating. But all of it is always immediately overshadowed by ZANINESS.

Anyway, I think we as DC fans deserve a do-over with a new Scott and Barda book about their lovingly domestic (kinky) life together on Earth that is funny but not desperately mugging for laughs in every panel. And I think it should be set in Vegas where Scott has a residency. Call me, DC!

New Gods (1989): This book was mostly written by Mark Evanier (a couple issues were by Starlin), who was one of Kirby's assistants back when he was originally creating the Fourth World, so you might think it would feel the closest to a continuation of Kirby's vision. Instead, I am making it Exhibit A in my argument for why a character should never be assigned to a writer who obviously fucking hates their guts.

I mean, I don't know that Evanier hates Orion. But boy does he write him like he does. Starlin's Orion (who again, we get a couple issues of here) is a monster, but Evanier's Orion is just an incompetent idiot, forever slamming himself against the brick wall of his inevitably becoming his father. Almost every single issue has at least one character, often multiple characters, bemoaning Orion's absolutely unproductive violence and inability to learn or comprehend basic concepts that should not be at all new to him after living most of his life on New Genesis (i.e. justice, mercy, compassion). Even fucking Kalibak is like "Wow, you're a useless idiot." Kalibak! The king of useless idiots!

The comic is so into hating on Orion that it hates on him when he's not actually doing anything bad; at one point he walks into a nuclear reaction that's melting down in a desperate attempt to stop it before it kills everyone, and Big Bear is like "Wow, he's just like his father." REALLY, BIG BEAR? Show me the comic where Darkseid risks his life to save thousands of strangers. I'll wait.

This series also features:

a hawkish, bloodthirsty New Genesis military leader who keeps trying to overthrow Highfather, which both seems to undercut the whole point of New Genesis as well as Orion's uniqueness as The Angry Guy;

an Earth woman with the worst gaydar in the universe repeatedly failing to fuck an increasingly uncomfortable Lightray;

but then Lightray falls in love with a dead woman he never met?;

also Orion gets a crush on a bug lady and learns to stop being racist against bugs (she's not impressed and good for her)

and Lightray and Orion parade around Earth in the WORST fashions of the late 80s/early 90s, which is about all this book has going for it.

Anyway it was bad and I'm glad I'm done with it. Next up: the 90s!

[screamingfromuz]

weird how you reblog posts saying Israel was founded on genocide while also reblogging posts saying the IDF has some measure of honor. like did you see the video of how they shot an Israeli citizen thinking he was Palestinian? Yuval Doron Castleman wa shis name, and the video is not hard to find. the had his hands up in the air, and he was shot multiple times. this happened in the past 24 hours. was there a specific point where the state of Israel became good?

you talk about Jewish people feeling unsafe around anti-Israel talk, but do you ever wonder if people of color feel unsafe around you, and your excusing of ceuel and dehumanizing police forces?

you are very funny to me, you kind of people little anon. So full of yourself yet cannot comprehend complex concepts of grey morality.

I don't fully agree with everything I reblog, I reblog things I believe are important to talk about.

The founding of Israel has several faces that should be acknowledged. It was both a victory to an indigenous land back movement and offered a desperately needed sanctuary for hundred of thousands that would flee, and horrible disaster to another indigenous group. This does not contradict. For peace to exists we must acknowledge the co existence of those narratives. Horrible things were done in 1947-1949, by everyone involved (Britian, Israel, Palestinians, Jordan, Egypt, Syrian, Lebanon), and ignoring or diminishing it is foolish. On the other side, blowing it up is just as stupid and destructive.

using the correct term is important, as using the wrong terms might leads fools such as yourself to misunderstand the problem, and worsen the actual problem by "trying to help".

the IDF takes extreme measures to be careful with civilian life while simultaneously being careless with it. Again, both things are true as the same time.

Me saying that I do not consider the actions in Gaza genocide, does not mean I agree with all of them. as explained in this post (and it various reblogs), the use of the word "Genocide" is done as a way to shut down conversations and vilify Israel. The things that are happening are horrific and I hate it, I mourn every death. But as I refuse to call this a genocide, any criticism I will have will be either dismissed or twisted and used against me. For that reason, I limit my criticism to Israeli circle and the real world.

I saw the video, of course I did. And what do you want me to say? that it is horrific? That I knew that something like this was gonna happen at some point? The soldiers fucked up, they will be trialed for that. This are problems that stem from militarized society that I fight against.

Israel is a state. It is not bad or good in your simplistic moral scale, like any other country on the planet. But Israel is my home, and I would not abandon if even if it is fucked up in here. There have been 9 months of protests before the war, people are still protesting and sighing petitions and working to build a better future here, for all of us. just like the people in Poland and in Hungary, we want a better country. The point is that you don't care, you don't want Israel to exist. You are calling or erasing Israel from the map without understanding the devastating consequences of such action. You don't care about our effort and our criticism unless you can twist if to the support of the eradication of Israel.

what you fail to understand, is how much your "anti-Israel" talk is toxic, destructive and full of antisemitism. Of course we feel unsafe! you are not criticizing Israel, you are calling for it's destruction and to the horrible consequences to the Jewish people that will follow.

I have talked about this, many Jewish and Israeli talked about it, but the amount of hate a vitriol your kind spew, the silencing methods you employ does not leave a place to our criticism. Nuanced opinions of the systems of violence, the militarization of the Israeli society, about the ties between culture and crime, of neglect, those are swept aside as they do not satisfy your "Israel bad" criteria.

Understanding the actions taken and explaining them is not endorsing or supporting said actions. it's called having an understanding.

I understand that this ask is a result of your underdeveloped moral compass, and truly hope you would be able to develop a healthy one little anon.

You don't know me, you see fractions of me through a screen, pieces of opinions I share on this wretched hell hole in hope of a good constructive criticism, in hope that by speaking out people will feel less alone.

for summery anon, life is more complex then your little fanfiction version of it. I hope you grow out of this mindset.

[prettygoododds]

20 Questions for fic writers

Thanks @wellbelesbian for tagging me. Such fun questions! Tags below the cut.

How many works do you have on AO3

68! Wow, I did not realize this.

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

134,335

3. What fandoms do you write for?

The Carry On Series aka Simon Snow fandom aka Snobaz

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

When the Ink Dries

Can I Change My Mind (this one blows my mind, how it continues to stay at the top)

Namaste Away

Every Lover Has A Little Dagger In Their Hand

We're So Starving

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or Why not?

I try to, but I'm very bad at it. It's something I need to work on.

6. What is a fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

We Were Pity Sex, Nothing More and Nothing Less It doesn't even pretend to be kind.

Also, I'm Right Where You Left Me It's short, but cuts right to the bone.

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Most of mine do have a happy ending (when I go sad, I go hard). If I had to choose a few, I suppose:

Where Did the Party Go?

Believe

Namaste Away

8. Do you get hate on fics?

No. Had a few recommendations on how to tag a few works, or to make it more user friendly but everyone has always been very kind with those suggestions. The Carry On fandom is a really good fandom.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

I'm slowly dipping my toes in that water. I've posted a few works that have smut, but I'm still very tentative about it. I don't know what kind really. Regular?

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

I do not

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I'm aware of

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Not to my knowledge

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

I have not, but I'm not opposed to it.

14. What's your all time favorite ship?

Snobaz, hands down. It's the one I come back to every time. My comfort ship.

15. What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

I have 2 WIP currently and both of those will be finished. My other WIP not on AO3 are just sitting in my google docs, where no one can see them shivering in the corner, neglected.

16 What are your writing strengths?

Oof. I'd like to think I'm good at dialogue.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Descriptions and setting a scene. I'm working on it though, and that's the important bit I suppose *shrugs shoulders in Simon*

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

Not something I've attempted. I won't say I never will, but I will probably not unless I absolutely have to

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Somewhere, in the depths of fanfic.net are my abandoned Twilight fics. And that is where they will stay until the death of the planet.

20. Favorite fic you've written?

I have a few and when I'm questioning why I think I should be doing this at all, I read them to remember I started because I wanted to write the stories I wanted to read.

When The Ink Dries - I started this fic waaaaay before I ever posted it and it was the reason I decided to participate in my first Carry On Big Bang. It's my fic first born.

I'm Not A Pitch - This fic popped my AO3 cherry. I posted it before I could second guess myself. It's full of errors, but I wouldn't change anything about it.

Vibe Check - I wrote this in a few hours when I was feeling silly and it is still one of my favorites

Who Wants Ramen? - My friend and I giggled endlessly when I plotted this one out.

You Can Call Me Babe for the Weekend - I spend a lot of time listening to music and plotting out the story that a 3-4 minutes song can tell. 'Tis the Damn Season was an immediate movie in my head and as soon as I could plot it out and put it on paper (so to speak) I did.

And last but not least Sugar, We're Going Down Swingin - This is pure self indulgence. I got into hockey, I wanted the boys to be hockey players...bam, here's a fic with almost no hockey in it, but sometimes they talk about it.

I'm don't know who's already been tagged, so sorry if I double up:

@facewithoutheart @imagineacoolusername @artsyunderstudy @shemakesmeforget @ivelovedhimthroughworse @ionlydrinkhotwater @rimeswithpurple @aristocratic-otter @cutestkilla @blackberrysummerblog @nausikaaa @supercutedinosaurs @nightimedreamersworld @valeffelees @iamamythologicalcreature @shrekgogurt @ileadacharmedlife @martsonmars @you-remind-me-of-the-babe

[sir-phineas-lost]

MAWS S2 finale

The good:

The final fight

Showing Clark's dedication to non-violence. That sequence of him very calmly assessing the situation and doing really cool super-feats just to pull Kara into a hug is fantastic.

Staying true to keeping Lois and Jimmy involved

Finally bringing in the Sun-powered thing

Leaning into Clark and Kara bonding as kryptonians. This show is very good at developing releationships and showing why different character work together. Even if they never do the reconnecting with his heritage-bit having someone in his life that he can be fully himself with, including not worrying about breaking them because he didn't keep himself in perfect check, is interesting.

Speaking of different characters working together, I really do like how Clark and Lois resolve all their relationship issues. I love how pragmatic Clark is about the fact that he can fly to Gotham in a microsecond to be with Lois if need be and Lois still turns down Vicki Vale not only to stay with her friends and boyfriend but for her own reasons.

The Bad:

Brainiac just, doesn't work for me. At all. His design is really boring (when he isn't possessing Clark) and his personality is all over the place in a way that just doesn't make any sense. He is a complete drama-queen which doesn't mesh at all with his "I am following my prime directive of restoring the Kryptonian empire" schtick and his few bits of nuance (like his supposed fatherly feelings for Kara) go nowhere.

I really hate the revelation that he blew up Krypton. For a myriad of reasons, including several plot-holes.

It's unnecessary. There is already plenty of reason to fight Brainiac and it robs whatever this other civilization is of the responsibility for destroying Krypton. I know the general position on Krypton being destroyed has been "meh" so far but facing off against the people who annihilated their birthplace would at least be a somewhat interesting development for Clark and Kara in the future. Facing off against the people who fought a war but were about to announce a ceasefire, not so much.

If Krypton blew up because of Brainiac, why did Jor-El say it was because the empire finally picked a fight it couldn't win? Brainiac explicitly states that Jor-El knew what he was about to do so why would he program his holo-self to share false information?

If Krypton was on the verge of a ceasefire then why the fuck were those warrior-guys on Zero Day all geared up to fight and conquer Earth? It couldn't be Brainiac because he wouldn't have interupted his own invasion by blowing up the planet.

They somehow made Livewire's armor even more bulky and ugly. That is such an impressive feat I almost want to put it in the "good" list.

Speaking of which, all the villains from last season showing up to help should feel like a really cool and rewarding moment, except it isn't. Since there is absolutely no work done to develop them as characters it means nothing. Especially when they try to have playful banter about being friends now.

I know I keep harping on this, but all of the supervillains have really boring and ugly costumes and it is really noticeable when they are all in a shot together. Why are they all beige? Don't any of them have enough individual personality to at least accessorize?

Oh, and it turns out another downside to giving everyone the same "Kryptonian tech" explanation for their powers is that they all get the same weakness. Because why would we want our characters to be different from one another?

Sam Lane coming back to help goes nowhere. Him leaving again was a big deal for Lois but she doesn't interact with him at all. This wouldn't bother me so much (it could make for a good subplot in S3) if he wasn't right there at the celebratory BBQ chatting it up like he isn't a compulsive hardass and loner.

I sound more negative than I really am though. The good parts of MAWS are really good and they carry the show just fine. I just wish it was better than "just fine".

[suicidalgamergirl]

Emotional Support Vampire

Finally I get our vamp boy to arrive. Credits of this chapter are from this Fan Wiki.

https://forgottenrealms.fandom.com/wiki/Rite_of_Profane_Ascension

*****

“Vaness,” a voice chilled, “the worst a man can get.”

Not this. She did not want this.

She turned around, seeing her parents. They were giving disapproving looks at her.

“We made you go to a great university,” her parents said, “then you wasted it all on your ridiculous doodles in your notebook! You are such a disappointment.”

She wanted to scream. She wanted to reason with her parents. But nothing came out from her lips.

She then saw Ken looking at her.

“Dumb ugly bitch,” Ken stated, “too annoying for even a lay.”

She put her hands on her ears, trying to stop the voices.

But they wouldn’t stop. She found herself standing on a stage, confronting an audience that started heckling and hollering at her. Cowering, she still had her ears covered. Why were people like this?!

She was an adult! Their voices should mean nothing! She doesn’t have to listen to them!

“Die,” a voice rang to her as a command.

After hearing that word, the audience started chanting that simple three letter word. 

Die. Die. Die.

Kneeling on the stage, she felt a noose was placed around her neck. Maybe this was going to be how it must end. Everyone was right about her. 

She smelled a fragrance lingering around her as the noose was tightening around her neck.

Bergamot, a sweet lemony bitter orange. 

Rosemary, a herb she used in her cooking class to stuff meats that were going to be cooked. Also used for protection against demons.

And Brandy?

The hell?!

*****

The scent of that strong liquor woke her up. She had tears running down her eyes. She hated having nightmares. They made her feel childish. Made her feel like a failure as an adult. Made her feel that she deserved a pathetic life.

“Gods darling,” a voice said, “you’re finally awake.”

Darling? The minute she heard that, she flung herself out of the bed and fell on the floor.

Trying to get herself together, she stared at her bed. There was a pointy eared, skin as snow, and white haired gentleman with red eyes, looking at her. He is wearing a fancy embroidery outfit that has a set of red dragons across his vest. 

Wait a sec…

Pointy ears, red eyes, and pale skin complexion?

Holy shit! There was a certified vampire in her bed! She wasn’t going to be a juicebox today. She stumbled to get herself up. She didn’t have crosses and rosaries. Nor the occasional garlic. 

But she had one thing that could easily make this intruder meet his match.

The sun.

Heading to the bedroom window, she was finally going to take control of her life. She pulled on the curtains to reveal the glorious beams of the sunlight to fall on her bed. This vampire had finally met his match. He is going to become literal toast.

Nothing happened.

“You know darling,” he mused as he lay on her bed, “you could have been a little more creative with your death threats. Is this honestly how you treat your guests?” 

“Well e-excuse me!” she replied, “It’s not like I expect my guests to lunge at my neck at any minute! Or goes nuts after a simple papercut!” 

“Touche. Though, this is all your fault by the way. You just have to accept the consequences of your actions.”

“My actions? I tried to help…”

She stopped as she was dumbfounded by her words. That albino bat she found. Poor little thing that was being attacked by mean dogs that didn’t know any better. The little bat that was annoyed with her while she was taking care of his wounds. 

She fell on her knees, eyes still wet from her tears. What a dumbass.

“I’m such an idiot,” she said.

“Finally admitting your mistakes is on the path of self improvement,” he replied as he was starting to mock himself as a therapist, “you humans are very stupid at times. It might have been a miracle your species survived a millennium without them blowing the planet up.”

This was going to be a very long and interesting weekend.