#GUESS WHAT THE EMOTIONAL CORE OF THE ENTIRE THING WAS

[lloydfrontera]

if i think too long about the ending making lloyd leave the home he worked so hard to save behind along with the new found family he sacrificed his life for so he can move to a place he has no emotional connection to where he only knows two people (one of which is actually following him from the aforementioned home) in order to make him get a standard "have a wife and children" 'happy' ending i start wanting to bite people not gonna lie

[moonrpg]

rewatched mop ending it still made me cry 👍 some thoughts in the tags

[help-itrappedmyself]

Summoning Game Show Part 6

Masterpost

“You had me going for a bit there, but that was pretty good.” Danny admits, clearing the screen away. “How come you know so much about space?”

“Learned some of it in school.” Red replies, hand coming up to rub the back of his head. “I do some work in the sciences now, engineering, and I’ve actually had to go to space a few times for the gig.” The hand lowers as he shrugs. “ Plus, I just like to know things.”

Danny has stars in his eyes now. “You’ve been to space?”

“Oh. Well yeah, I’ve had a few missions. Miss Martian has a ship that the team took.”

Danny’s expression light up even more and Red looks back at his brothers in confusion. “You know a Martian?” It was whispered in awe, Red could barely hear it, but he nods in response. 

They stand there for a minute, Danny just staring at Red in some mix of amazement and awe before he shakes himself out of it. 

“Right! Well, that’s awesome.” Danny nods to himself and then forcibly turns to face the screen and changes the subject. “Last thing then! You get a letter for the puzzle!” 

The puzzle appeared on the screen again with a wave of Danny’s hand.

“ I would like H, please.” Red Robin states.

“What a fantastic guess, there are three H’s!” Danny is trying to resign himself to the fact that he’ll actually have to deal with being King after this. Red was super smart, he doesn’t think he’s going to get out of it at this point.

“Alright, that’s all the letters you will be getting. Before you take a guess at the answer, I am required to tell you that it is a Proper Noun. Please decide who among you will be solving the puzzle.

Red turns to face his brothers but they all just wave him off, motioning for him to go for it. “That’s me, I guess.” He shrugs, turning back to Danny.

Danny nods “Okay, all you have to do in order to meet the Ghost King is solve two puzzles! First the word puzzle, you have 30 seconds.”

A timer starts counting down on the top left of the screen. 

Red mouths words to himself for 10 seconds, then asks, “High King Phantom?” 

More confetti appears on the screen as the solved puzzle appears.

Danny makes a weird face. “That’s correct!” 

There is a lot of clapping and laughing coming from the ghosts in the stands, but it stops when Danny shoots them a glare.

“Alright, last thing.” The podiums disappear and Red steps back towards his family. “The king has been here the whole time, and you will get your meeting with him, as soon as you identify him. You have one guess.” 

Hood, Robin, and Nightwing all turn to each other to start whispering, but Red just tilts his head at Danny.

“Well, It’s you isn’t it?” Red asks and his brothers all turn back to stare at him. Danny tilts his head in response. “Well you were the first one here, so you’re the only one that’s been here the entire time. And you’ve been running the show, everyone has listened to you. Also, your shirt has a P on it, inside the D, but I figure that if the D stands for Danny, then the P would have to be Phantom.” 

Danny just leans back and groans.

When Danny straightens back as his outfit starts to change, he gains a crown and a cape, his ears turn more pointed and he has fangs now. “So what did you want with me? Is it healthcare? Because we do have a doctor that Hood could see.”

“A doctor?” Hood questions.

“Oh geez you don’t even know do you?” Danny starts rubbing his forehead. “Well, you’ve got to get that taken care of, it’s stunting your core development.”

“ Get what taken care of?”

Danny sputters. “The ectoplasm?!” He waves his arms in Hood’s direction. “It's so old and stagnant and worn out and your core isn’t old enough to make its own ectoplasm yet, so you should really supplement until your core finishes.”

Danny can see that none of them know what he’s talking about and he just shakes his head. “I can’t believe you don’t even know. Haven’t there been mood changes, random bursts of emotions, followed by sluggishness? Aren’t you tired?” 

Now everyone is looking at Hood who grumbles. “Well, yeah. But that’s been happening since I died.”

Danny nods as if that makes perfect sense and Dick really would like an explanation. Red and Robin are also just nodding, having noticed the mood swings themselves.

“Relatable, but condolences. Anyways, we could help with that, but I take it that wasn’t why you tried to summon me, so what did you actually want?”

“Nothing that is more important than Hood’s health, if you can help him.” Nightwing interjects.

“Oh. Well, technically you won, so you have the right to an audience to at least ask for whatever else you wanted.” Danny turns and waves in the direction of the stand, motioning someone down. “But If Hood would like to forfeit his right to the audience, he could have a checkup with Frostbite while we meet?”

Hood nods. “I’ll do that. This… Frostbite will be able to explain?” 

“Probably better than I could!” Danny says cheerily as he turns to the Yeti heading towards them. “Frostbite, Hood here needs a checkup, if you could help him correct the malnutrition so his core can grow.” 

Frostbite nods, “You can come with me, Sir.” 

“Bring him back here when you guys are done!” Danny shouts after them as Frostbite leads Hood away. “Now, you guys can come follow me and we’ll sit and talk.”

[romantique-dreams]

IT'S GONNA KILL ME - E.M

summary: your parents just happened to not be home, and hawkins' infamous sex-god needed an outlet for his anger, but pink rooms and relationships were not his thing.

wc: 3.8k

it's gonna kill me vol. 2 (here)

warnings: 18+ minors dni! spit kink, swearing, unprotected sex, p in v, choking, fwb (kinda), fuckboy/mean!eddie, making out, dom(ish)!eddie, creampie, masturbation (m&f), nipple play, petnames. that's all i can think of, but please let me know if you find more!

You could sense the way every time you would give Eddie a kiss, his body would go rigid. It wasn’t hard to ignore—he didn’t like physical touch when it came to purposeful intimacy. It was a routine for the both of you though; you’d meet wherever he saw fit, went inside, laid on the picnic table, leaned against the stall door, or sprawled out on the floor of his van. You would fuck like rabid animals, swap each others stash, and go your different ways. You were almost positive his heart was ripped from his chest. It was possible his core could have been filled with cement, with each ventricle plugged, or nerve endings severed to prevent the dreadful emotions from slipping in or out. 

“Where are we meeting tonight, hot stuff?” You sniggered over the other end of the phone.

“God dammit, how about you not call me that, yeah? And, well, my uncle is home.”

 Eddie hated pet names outside of making you feel good during sex. 

Your eyebrows pulled together while thinking of something. He was going to hate this. “You’ve never been to my house, what about here?”

“No can do,” his vowels were drawled out, “Pink, girly rooms, not my thing. Major turn off. Besides, your family is way too into each other, ‘makes me sick.” 

“Dude, get over yourself. Do you want to get your rocks off, or what? My parents aren’t home, I’m alone, no one will even see you pull into my driveway. I’m plenty far enough away from the main road.”

Eddie’s entire being shuddered thinking of being caught with you, and having to go through the ‘is this your boyfriend?’ conversation.

The line was silent until Eddie muttered under his breath.

“Alright, fine. I’ll just come there.” He hung up. 

“Love you too, sweetcheeks,” you sneered and slammed the phone down onto the receiver. 

Eddie went as far as shaving. He had a sex-god reputation among the girls in Hawkins, and there was no way he was going to lose that title due to being unshaven on one of the worst weeks of his life. He splashed some aftershave along his jawline, and rubbed some on the freshly shaven skin below his belt, a hiss escaping between his teeth. He dressed himself in a black and white flannel, the top two buttons undone, his mane framing his face and cascading down his back, with his infamous bulge-hugging black jeans. Regardless of anyone wanting to admit it at Hawkins, he was some goddamn eye candy. The metalhead placed himself in the driver seat of his van, he ruffled his flannel, and smoothed down the collar. He started his van, and drove off.

You had dressed yourself into a tight tank top that accentuated the apex of your breasts just right, and pulled your hair to the crown of your head in a ponytail held up by a tattered scrunchie that was tradition to use while sucking him off. It was in no time that he was pulling up to your driveway, hearing him stroll down the winding trail that led to a hidden house away in the woods. 

You closed your eyes and inhaled through your nose. You could feel it again. Why were you nervous? It wasn’t as if this was going to be different than any other time, it was merely a routine—each position and touch just another item checked off on the list. You and Eddie were each other's relief. While others meditated, you guys fucked. 

You gathered yourself, picking up all the sentiment that had seeped out onto the floor beneath. “”Sup, bitch?”

“Just here to fuck your brains out, I guess.” Eddie shoved his hands in his front pockets. 

“You should try taking a girl on a date first, sheesh.” You stepped out of the way and bent down, signifying royalty entering your humble abode. 

“Um, how about try shutting the fuck up?” He snipped back towards you while kicking his shoes off. “You know I don’t do that, I like getting to the point. Less hassle, less attachment, freedom.” 

“How do you even keep a girl around? Going on a date and actually having fun isn’t that barbaric to you, is it?”

He turned to you, eyes narrowing. “Let’s just say my skills make up for lack thereof in the dating department, ‘kay? And are you trying to go on a date, or are you trying to come? Because right now it seems like you want me to take you out and spend my hard earned money selling to minors on you. You gettin’ all mushy on me? Do I need to end this?” 

You shrugged with a sly smirk. “Believe whatcha’ want to believe, honey. Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

Eddie was taken aback. Was he really making that up because he wanted to, or did it just seem like you wanted to?

 He took a slight step towards you with his mouth pressed into a firm line, his jaw clenching tightly as the muscles moved under his pale skin. “Can you stop with the pet names, for the love of god?”

“Mmm—, I’ll think about it.” You shot him a finger towards him and then scratched your chin with a half-assed pondering look on your face. 

“You piss me off, you know that?”

“It’s what I do best, right?”

You were putting up a facade that didn’t feel like you, clearly. You enjoyed the banter between the both of you, but sometimes you wanted it to be laced with something for one another. You just wanted him to have some sort of care in the world, the smallest hope wanting it to be for you. 

“You’re insufferable.” 

“Yeah, yeah, I know. You tell me all of the time, can’t forget.”

“So, are you going to show me to your bedroom, or are we just going to sit here holding our dicks in our hands?” He peered at you, sticking his head out with an annoyed look.

“Well, considering you’re the guest and all, and I’m a nice host,” you jabbed his chest with your finger that was still hanging in the air. “I was going to ask if you wanted water or anything, but you can’t wait to get into my pants, so I’m assuming you aren’t thirsty.” 

Eddie’s wall faltered, a brick crumbling and dropping to the ground. He stepped back from you while he fiddled with the metal around his fingers. You were just trying to be nice, that’s all, but all he could do was take his anger out onto you at the end of a long week. Wayne was on his ass, business at school was slow, and the shop had a month's wait that was filled with cars needing to be fixed. 

“I mean I could use some water, sure.” He was quick with his words and rounded the couch next to the entryway of your house. 

“Alright, I’ll be right back, ‘kay? Don’t get too impatient.”

His wall was reconstructed and his posture firmed. The couch was too hard, it was too sterile in here, it looked like no one even lived in here. His hands rubbed up and down his upper thighs, too uncomfortable to lean back. He was out of his element. These events never happened anywhere but his house. He didn’t have the comfort of his home to be able to keep up the crassness of his persona.  

You scurried yourself off to the kitchen to fetch a glass of water, hair trailing behind you as you turned the corner. You began to realize the neverending roller coaster of emotions you had purchased a ticket to when you first endeavored in this risque escapade with Eddie. He gave you whiplash with his constant demeanor changes and his vulgar words. 

You were quick to return to the living room with the glass of water in hand. You stopped in the doorway noticing his unyielding silhouette, he was sticking out like a sore thumb in your living room that was littered with family memorabilia. Eddie had told you once a small snippet of past life; the desolation of it all as his mom worked countless nights at the hospital, while his dad was out doing ‘business deals’, or so he told him. You could do nothing but hurt for him as he opened up to you. Although you were both stoned out of your minds, you appreciated the small intimate moment you’d cherish between the two of you. It had been the only occurrence, yet all you tried to do was get to know him from then on, and he never budged.

“Alright, order up!” You slid him the glass of water across the coffee table. 

“Yeah, thank—,” He began monotonously.

“You’re welcome my kind sir.” You bent before him and curtsied.

Eddie was quick to gulp down some of his water as you sat down next to him, setting the cup down after with a content exhale. He was still sitting upright, his back never touching the sofa behind him. This was not him, nor will it ever be. He didn’t do the cordial conversations in the living room, or the witty flirtatious remarks, or the talking stage in the first place. He was there to liberate all of his pent up emotions into you and get out. You were his release, merely but a short hour of his day. 

 You were quick to place yourself next to him with a raised brow. “Why do you look like you have an actual stick up your ass right now?”

Eddie turned to you and glared as he gestured between the two of you. “Because this shit is stupid, that’s why. I don’t want to be here longer than it takes to fuck you. Get in, get out. That’s all I’m here for, so can we get this show on the road?”

Your heart twinged within your chest. Was it really that bad to actually spend some time together without fucking your brains out? Was it oh so terrible to not be around you without your tits out? Those were questions that were meant to be left unanswered, unaccounted for; because in all honesty you couldn’t stomach the actual truth.

You clicked your tongue against your teeth and motioned towards the stairs. “Yeah, you’re right. C’mon, my room is upstairs.”

You briskly walked away, leaving a scrambling Eddie behind you as he followed to your bedroom. Without hesitation you slammed the door behind you, immediately removing your clothes from your body. Your blood was boiling, pumping hot beneath your skin and fuelling the fire that was burning. You grabbed Eddie by his broad shoulders while your fingernails dug into the fabric hanging off of them and stood him in front of you, following by undoing each button on his flannel. Your jaw was tightened and your eyebrows were low, pupils growing in size from the anger that resonated within you. 

Eddie looked down at you quizzically, both hands beside him in the air to surrender. He didn’t mind the idea, but your abruptness startled him. You never took initiative when it came to starting these moments, but he wasn’t complaining. 

You continued on with your mission; unbuttoning his pants next and removing them, completely taking his flannel off of his slender body. You were already shirtless and pantless by now, only remaining in your bra and underwear. You placed both of your hands onto his bare chest and shoved him down onto the bed, straddling him instantaneously. Your bra was gone within seconds as you ground your hips down onto his confined length, slotting your mouth above his. Hot, sweet breath was fanning against his cheeks as you stared at him with intensity. Eddie was the first to connect your lips together, with each eager kiss ending in you both gasping for air. 

“Goddamn, baby, what’s got you all riled up?”

First he’s mean, now pet names?

“You, asshole,” you spat at him as you slid your hand into his boxers, only after you spit into your hand. Your anger was evident in every movement you made. 

A sharp inhale was heard from Eddie as your velvety hand that was slick with spit connected with his now swollen cock, precum beading at the tip. You gave him quick pumps to his mid-shaft as you could feel it twitch beneath while your hand grazed the under ridge of his head. His head was thrown back, his hair cascading down to either side of his while his Adam's apple bobbed with each gulp he took. A carnal instinct was building within Eddie’s aura, he attached his lips to yours once more, savoring the sweet flavor of your saliva against his taste buds. 

Eddie wasn’t about to be the one taken control of. You made him come to your house, you made him come into your room, you were the one making him only think about you. He flipped the both of you in one fluid motion, a guttural groan escaping his lips as he pinned both wrists down against your duvet cover. 

“I’m going to set the record straight for ‘ya—,” He paused as his hair tumbled down to cast a shadow over your features, “I’m in charge, not you. It’s bad enough we’re at your house, in your room, got it?”

You were quick to submit, curtly nodding up at him, lips forming into a pout.

“Good, wasn’t taking no for an answer anyways.” He shrugged, pulling your bottom half to the edge of the bed. 

Eddie was quick to have his hands on you, making sure to let his hot touch linger on your skin. He danced his fingers down your side, harsh squeezes being made to each malleable part you held, sure to leave imprints in your delicate skin. Your lip was pulled between your teeth and you exhaled short breaths through your nose. He continued his expedition down to your puffy core with one slender digit trailing up between your folds and collecting your arousal. He replaced his now slick finger with two others rubbing abrupt circles into your clit, his other finger slipping between his lips and releasing with a pop. 

“Y’taste so fucking sweet, ‘ya know that, baby?” He cooed, a harsh contrast to his actions.

Your legs squirmed beneath him and your eyes shut tightly as crinkle lines formed by your lash line. Your body was jerking with each of Eddie’s swipes over your bud, electricity shooting to the end of each neuron in your brain. There was one thing about Eddie you couldn’t deny, when he said his skills in bed made up for where he was lacking, he wasn’t wrong. He was so good at making someone feel good. He knew just what made you give yourself up to him, and what left you wanting more. He could read you like a book, and had memorized each word with sticky notes next to each quirk that made you come in an instant. 

While his left hand was working his other had traveled to your throat, fingers wrapping around to the nape of your neck. The veins in your neck were bulging and you could feel the air becoming harder and harder to breathe, your air supply was being cut off now. Eddie could feel your rapid pulse that was bounding beneath his calloused hand, a smirk of satisfaction resonating on his lips. Your climax was building, but interrupted by his fingers sliding into you with an embarrassingly wet squelch.

The metalhead's fingers slammed into you with force, the edges of his fingertips were curled to graze the spongy spot with each entrance and exit. Your eyes were now rolled to the back of your head and your jaw went slack, mouth dropping down to touch your chest as you propped yourself up on your elbows. Gasps and chokes for air, slapping skin, and your arousal being spread beneath you were the only sounds heard in the room.

Positions were eventually switched and Eddie was soon enough plunging his aching cock inside of you. You swallowed him whole, each thrust inwards being met with a clench of your slicked walls. 

“God, you’re so fucking warm, fuck—,” Eddie cooed, pussy drunk already.

This was one thing you had over him. Your whole being when you were intimate had him intoxicated, so inebriated to the point you could get him to do anything for you. You wanted him to eat you out? Done. You want him to finger you a certain way? Done. Whatever it was, he was at your beck and call. You knew you were special compared to the other girls, the way he paid extra attention to all your curves and delicacies, but also sold to you for free on the side. You were higher on the totem pole compared to the groupies who hung around The Hideout.  

Eddie’s thrusts picked up in pace and depth, giving your cervix slight kisses with each dive into you. Your lips attacked the soft alabaster skin of his neck while your nails did a number on his back—scraping harshly, leaving puffy trails of red behind. Little did anyone know it, but you owned him. You always made sure to leave marks, whether that be just for you to see, or others. 

“Shit, baby. Y’gonna leave me lookin’ like a leper when I show up to school tomorrow,” he grumbled against your neck, syllables emphasized by his plunges. 

“That’s okay, god damn—, that’s fine. Gotta let them know I’m your favorite,” you hissed through your teeth, whimpers trailing behind. 

Eddie’s smirk glistened in the dim light of your room and he nipped at your neck. “You caught me there, you feel so fucking good compared to anyone else, mhm.”

Your orgasm was rising in your lower stomach, only noticeable from the immense heat flowing throughout your body, while pleasure kissed each overstimulated neuron. Your muscles were tensing; all the way from your calves to your jaw, the skin above going rigid. As Eddie continued his relentless pace your hands were entangled in the mess he called his hair, harsh tugs ensuing after. 

Eddie had come to the decision to really set you ablaze beneath him. His ring clad hand found its way around your neck once again, only applying pressure to the sides, making sure to be careful of not cutting off your airflow too much. How considerate. His mouth attached to your pebbled nipples, and gently rolled them between his two front teeth, while contrasting with brutal bites to the supple surrounding skin. He finished with his free hand moving to your clit, the sad, pitiful bundle of nerves that ached for him.

It wasn’t long before you were overstimulated.  “Eddie, ‘s a lot, c’mon,” you choked out. 

“Ah-ah, what did I say? I make the rules tonight sweetheart, fuck‒,” he grunted with a particularly gruff thrust into you. “I came here, this is my night. Do you understand?”

His words were succeeded with a splat of saliva from Eddie that landed on your tongue. You were quick enough to savor his taste sucking on the remnants dancing on your tastebuds. Something about him tonight seemed so primal, so salacious. You couldn’t help but succumb to him and nod your head. 

“Thatta girl.” His pace accelerated significantly to the point you were sure he was tearing you in half.

He raised an eyebrow towards you and released his hand from your throat to snatch your chin between his pointer finger and his thumb. “You’re gonna let go for me in just a second when I tell you to, okay? I want you to come so hard on my fucking cock while I come inside of you. I’m gonna let you have all of my sweet stuff, and make you all sticky and shit. Y’gonna feel so fucking dirty, ‘mkay?”

All you could do was nod, you were desperate. You were already robbed of your first orgasm, and each thrust of his was bringing you closer to the brink of your release. It was becoming painful, tears brimming at the bottom of your eyes. You had known from experience what it was like to come when Eddie had told you not to.

Eddie replaced your newfound necklace, his hand, and smirked. He had already angled your hips slightly upwards so your bottom was off of the bed, and your spongy spot was being hit with a relentless amount of force. Lewd sounds were filling the room—nothing but slicked symphonies and desperate whines were to be heard, and Eddie was the director of it all. Surely it was the most sinful orchestra you had listened to. 

With each dive into you, your breasts recoiled and your eyes screwed shut. A layer of sweat was visible now as small droplets formed at your temples and above your lip. You could feel it. Your orgasm was approaching and you were hoping to god his was too, practically praying on your hands and knees to have some sort of relief. It was as though angels were singing to you when you finally heard him speak.

“Go ahead, baby, come for me,” he gasped out as his own release came.

Your body jerked as the wave of consolation consumed you. With toes curling, hands ripping at the sheets beneath you, walls convulsing, and your back arching you were letting out the unholiest of sounds. Wetness pooled beneath you while Eddie’s potent seed covered your gummy walls. 

Eddie’s hips slammed into you a few more times until he was hopelessly rocking into your sticky hole, the both of you riding out your orgasms. He fell completely forward while small wisps of his mane tickled your neck. He let out a shudder and slowly pulled himself from inside of you. 

“Good, huh?” He chuckled and laid himself down next to you, a content sigh coming after.

“It was mediocre.”

This wasn’t a common occurrence for Eddie after your visits. He never laid down next to you, instead he was lighting up and ushering you out the front door as soon as you were dressed. 

He looked over at you, bewilderment covering his soft features while he slid closer. “You’re bullshitting me.”

“Great catch, smart one,” you quipped as you rolled your eyes. “I wouldn’t have came if it wasn’t mind blowing, ‘ya know? I have high standards after all.”

“As if you’ve ever been with anyone besides me,” he grinned. “Your standards are literally me, idiot.”

“Whatever.”

Eddie stood himself up from the bed, legs a bit wobbly as he carried himself over to your vanity. He bent down to inspect the damage done to his neck and back, gently tracing his fingers over the love bites that were beginning to form. 

“Looks like I’ll only be exclusively seeing you for the next week, my dear. Can’t have my other babes knowing I let you give me these, no one gets to mark me up.” 

Did he just say that? 

There was a strange feeling residing in Eddie, he wasn’t sure what it was. Did you just break through to him?  There was no way you had steam rolled the wall he built for himself when he was around you. It was secure, strong, fortified with every emotion blocker known to himself. Was it really all that bad? 

Eddie pinched the bridge of his nose between his pointer finger and thumb as he let out a shaky exhale.

There was no way Eddie could possibly indulge himself in this mess, he couldn’t. Relationships weren’t his thing, or were they?

a/n: this was a whole process of writing, i apologize if it isn't my best! i have been very busy and mentally ill LMFAO. i hope everyone enjoys it tho! i'm very insecure about this one hahahads. i went through and proofread it myself, so i'm hoping there are no mess ups, but if there are please feel free to let me know! likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated!

[artsavi]

god. uh. myhouse.wad, huh? I have, frankly, way too many thoughts about this entire mod. Please bear with me as I try to ramble my way through them, I ended up going off under the read more.

I’m going to be honest, this game felt like an extended, emotional fetch quest for me until this point. Don’t get me wrong, I knew that all the items had emotional and memorial impact, but...this one got to me. This moment hit me like a fucking truck.

For those of you who don’t play Dungeon and Dragons, sessions get long. On average they can run anywhere between 4-6 hours, but I myself have played longer, with the longest taking the cake at almost a half day, or roughly 11 hours. A lot can happen in a session, and most of it is just...joking around. The phrase “roll for intercourse” is a reference to an age-old running gag of players trying to seduce an NPC for whatever reason. It’s funny. It happens so often it’s a meme.

But finding it here...it really hit me. This isn’t just a reference to a well-known meme. Tom and Steve sat down and played D&D together, spending multiple hours in a day to play sessions, likely with other players but always with each other. And this phrase? It stuck out, it’s a moment that stuck with Steve for one reason or another, and my only guess is to say it’s because it‘d become an inside joke. And...you can’t help but wonder what it was. If Steve had been DMing, or if he’d been the one trying to seduce the NPC much to Tom’s chagrin, or...what.

And that at the core is the devastating part of myhouse.wad. The more I sit and think about it, the more I think about it, the more I realize this map is chock full of inside jokes, and we as players will never understand them. Because it’s not meant for us. These are things we’ll never have context for because one of the people involved is gone now. And the more I think about it, the more the realization hit that this entire map is not a game and really, truly is a memorial.

Do you remember when we played with Legos together? Do you remember when we played video games? Drinking milkshakes in the basement, sharing a pop? Our inside jokes? Roll for intercourse. Pumpkin Rick. Shrek chasing after you. Do you remember when we got married? I do. The house does. The house loves you. I love you. I miss you.

This map reads like a conversation, someone reaching out to someone else. You can’t help but wonder who is reaching out to who, though.

You know, I was talking to some friends on Discord about this map, and one of them brought up something interesting that I agree with. myhouse.wad draws clear inspiration from House of Leaves, but there’s a distinct difference between them. They both have heavy themes of grief and closure, but where House of Leaves is mysterious because of the layers and layers of unreliable narrators, myhouse.wad is mysterious because of you’re only ever hearing one side of the conversation. House of Leaves makes me feel like I’m intruding on something that no human should ever know. myhouse.wad makes me feel like I’m hearing part of a conversation through a wall.

Either way, there is one thing that both works share: This is not for you. It never was.

You know, I kind of wonder what their D&D campaign was about, if this moment was enough to stick out as an inside joke. I wonder what their sessions were like. I hope they had fun.

[tobiasdrake]

And then Steve's ending sucks and is bad.

Steve's ending infuriated a lot of Stucky shippers for obvious reasons. But. Like. Here's the thing: From a filmmaking standpoint, the Stuckies are right. Sending Steve back in time just doesn't work for multiple reasons, both in and out of universe.

This is going to be a longie.

#1 - Time Travel Doesn't Work That Way

The first problem is the in-universe one. This ending is so busted that the directors and writers actually have separate interpretations of what happened, and they're both wrong.

According to the directors, Steve created a parallel timeline where he's lived with his Peggy. He used the time machine to return to this timeline and go to that bench, but only once he was super old for, uh, some reason?

Problem is, according to this movie, you can't do that. You can't make a new timeline without removing an Infinity Gem from it, and also making new timelines is bad, remember? Further, the film gives no indication that Steve time traveled here. He doesn't appear on the Quantum platform. He's not wearing his time suit. He's just chilling on a bench, staring at the horizon.

The reason the film gives no indication for how Steve arrived here is because of the writers' interpretation: Steve arrived in the past of this, the main timeline. Steve himself was Peggy's mystery husband back in Winter Soldier. Old Steve has always been here, waiting for this moment.

That's actually worse than the directors' explanation. The movie has been very clear on the point that you can't directly change the past. Even after they prune the timelines, Loki didn't actually escape in 2012. That never happened. The events of the Time Heist never happened, from a historical perspective.

The internal logic of Steve's jaunt doesn't work out, no matter which way you slice it.

#2 - The Future is Scary and You Should Run Away

The second problem is what it does to Steve as a Man Out of Time. The white-hot core of this character direction is that he is an old man living in a world he doesn't recognize, and having to adapt to changing times. That's something we all have to deal with eventually.

So what is Endgame's final statement on Steve's efforts to fit into society? It's that he can't. Trying to live in this world he doesn't know is a futile gesture. In the end, Steve gives up, sinks his head in the sand, and rejects modernity. He embraces the shallow image of a woman he once loved was attracted to and lives out the rest of his days in a reactionary fantasy world.

I guess there is no value in changing and growing to adapt to the new world around you. What a shitty ending.

#3 - To the End of the Line

And finally... yeah. I'm sorry to tell you this, but the Stucky shippers were right. Not necessarily about Steve and Bucky's relationship being canonically romantic. But about Steve and Bucky's relationship being the driving emotional throughline of the entire Captain America trilogy.

In the end, this ending is the epitome of the problem with the way writers write platonic relationships versus romantic ones. Throughout the trilogy, Bucky is the most valuable and important person in Steve's life.

Steve defied orders and officially joined World War II, venturing deep into enemy territory alone, for Bucky. He was ready to die for this man. He laid down his shield and accepted the Winter Soldier's violence out of love for the man behind his eyes, and that sheer unrelenting loyalty brought him back from the monster he was programmed to be. Steve went to war with the Avengers out of love for Bucky.

And whether you take that love to be romantic or platonic, it doesn't change the fact that this is what drives the films. Not Peggy. Never Peggy. The films occasionally pay some attention to Peggy and Sharon, but they aren't actually interested in using these characters as characters.

(In fact, they're so disinterested in Sharon that she drops off the face of the universe in Infinity War and Endgame. Not even a namedrop. The moment the filmmakers decided to send Steve back to Peggy, Sharon ceased to have any value as a character and was consequently erased. They do not care about these women and their stories. The Carters are just the obligatory love interests.)

Instead, Peggy is merely the symbol of what could have been. She represents the life Steve lost, but is barely treated as a person in her own right. She's just a picture in his wallet that he can pine after. She doesn't move the story along, and his feelings for her rarely amount to more than Steve being sad for a little bit and then continuing along with what he was doing.

And this is how it always is. The best friend is the diehard series-defining relationship that moves mountains and saves the universe. And the girlfriend is just there, getting little focus or development. Steve and Bucky prove their importance to each other again and again, but no attention is paid to why Peggy is important. "She's a woman. He's a man. What more do you need?"

I'm not, personally, a Stucky shipper. But "I'm with you to the end of the line," still meant so much to me. This was the emotional core of the Captain America trilogy, right up there with "I can do this all day." Steve suddenly quitting on the future, quitting on Bucky, and running off to bury his face in Peggy's bosom felt like a betrayal of everything the films have ever told us about these characters. Peggy just wins. Because we need to marry him off somehow if we're going to tie up his journey!

It is neither a joke nor an exaggeration to say that the trajectory of Captain America throughout the MCU was ruined at the very last possible second by the straight agenda.

[jakeyt]

Covet: Chapter 11 (Sneak Peek)

a/n: this is only half of what this scene is in chapter 11... buuuut, this is a scene that has been imagined for a hot damn second... and i kind of went crazy with it when it came time to write it. soooo, here's a (long ass) sneak peek of the scene that's been planned as a reunion of sorts for our two (angsty) romantics <3

i hope it's enough to tide you over until chapter 11 drops. and, ohhhh friends.... chapter 11..... it's a doozy (that includes something that many have been itching for... what could it be?)

buuut, until then, here is your little taste (🤭) of chapter 11!!

Warnings: smut (18+ MINORS DNI); oral (f! receiving); pregnancy; insecurities; anxiety; slight jealousy, i guess?; pregnancy hormones out the wah-zoo lmao (emotions, libido, etc)

-🌼🌼🌼-

“Oh, so you didn’t get it out of your system with Maya that night?” You clipped, not ready to just ignore the fact that you’d had to suffer through that shit. How damn livid you’d been. 

“I was angry, and she was there for me,” he explained, before sighing deeply. You could imagine he was shaking his head with the action. “But I was thinking of you. You and your beautiful fucking body that’s growing my kid.”

God. You felt your core flex and continue to drip with arousal at his words. You were not in the mood to be the one in the right anymore. You didn’t want to be smart about your choices. . . you wanted his mouth on you and you wanted to let him do whatever the fuck he had in mind. 

It would be one time. 

And. . . .  it would technically be him helping you to benefit the baby. . . the less stressed you were, the less stress the baby felt. And God only knew how fuckin’ stressed you were lately. 

And there was only one way–one person–you wanted to relieve that right now. 

Fuck morality. 

“Who’s to say you’ll want me when you actually see me like this?” You genuinely wondered. 

You couldn’t believe you were actually giving this fucking idea any substance. There really was no way it could end well. 

But your thoughts just kept trailing to how it could end well. . . very well. . . With you moaning his name as you finished against his tongue or around his cock . . .just for tonight. And, dirty as it would be to her, technically Maya did tell him to help with whatever you needed, so it wasn’t entirely against her wishes. 

Although, you were one thousand percent sure this was not what she meant. . . . at all.

“Try me,” he challenged, voice rasping with the two daring words.

You were in no place to turn him down for such a thing. Your body was in no place to deny his help much longer. So, with wobbly legs and weak knees, you stood up. Your ass tingled, hurting just a bit and you were trying so hard to not somehow slip on any water on the shower floor. You decided to lean against the opposite wall, holding on to the plastic bar built into the middle of the longer wall, adjacent to him. 

It was clicking that he was about to see your naked body in a way he’d never seen it before. . . you needed to make sure you looked as good as you could with puffy eyes from crying and a red face from the heat of the shower.

So, you did what you could and bent one wet leg at the knee, thankfully feeling silky smooth from your shave. You worked to accentuate your curves, in a body that didn’t always feel like your own anymore. You wanted to cross your arms over your chest, but knew the pressure would hurt like a bitch if you did that. The other option was tucking them behind your back, so that was what you did, holding the plastic bar in the wall with both hands, pushing your chest up a bit with the action. 

You couldn’t conceal the whine that slipped from your lips when you crossed your thighs, pushing them together, adding a little bit of pressure where you needed it so badly. 

But, no matter how much your body felt literally pulled to him, you couldn’t help asking. . . “Are you sure about this?”

“Um, yes,” he said, no doubt in his tone at all. Though, after he said it, he paused, ready to await your words. “. . .Are you?”

Guilt was what you should’ve felt in this moment. But, right then and there, guilt was as far out of the window as it could’ve possibly been. This felt real. Natural. Nowhere near wrong any longer – only right. So fucking right. 

So, if he thought it was okay, so did you. 

“Yes,” you breathed, whining on the word without warning, your legs having rubbed together once more. Your swollen chest was heavy with each breath you took, waiting for him. 

“Let me see you,” he beckoned. 

Needing the curtains gone from between you, but scared to move and end up falling, you huffed, snorting a bit at the thought of falling again. Pregnancy and POTs were not a good combination for a clumsy-ass like yourself. 

“I’m afraid I’ll land on my fuckin’ ass if I move,” you explained, a little giggle following the words. “Um, c-can you–?”

And before you could even finish the request, the thin barrier between you suddenly vanished and. . . standing before your naked, wet body. . . was him. 

Your eyes didn’t instantly find his face, suddenly shy in front of the man who’d seen you naked so many times before. So, you focused fully on his body. He was still fully clothed, but completely there, right in front of you. 

And, from what you could tell from the outline of his dick in his dark jeans, he was definitely wanting you. He wanted to help in this special way. . .

“Oh my god,” he rasped, so low in his throat. 

Instantly, you snapped your glance from where you’d been eyeing his body to see his face. He was staring at your legs, which still looked as they had before the baby, for the most part.

But, very slowly, his eyes trailed from your legs, all the way to your midsection – a part of you that had definitely changed. Round as could be at 17 weeks along, his expression became primal; his stare, so hungry for what his eyes were feasting on that you felt it with every harsh beat of your heart.

You felt extremely vulnerable in his presence, under his gaze. Felt weak at the sound of his voice. The way you were bared completely to him, and him liking what he saw. . . made the blood in your veins red hot. 

The blush crept up on every part of you – your cheeks and chest, burning. You felt yourself becoming restless for him, your heart beating so quick you felt almost nauseous at the way his eyes had darkened. His lips stayed pursed as his jaw flexed. You felt your chest react further, as your nipples peaked at his nearness. As if sensing it, his eyes moved to watch your fuller chest, your breathing hitching on each breath. 

Time was moving in slow motion. 

And the way he bit his lip, as he finally locked his dark eyes with yours, would forever be etched in your memory.

“Holy fuck,” he breathed. “You are so—.”

The heavy beat of your heart was lodged in your throat, your breath catching. “Kiss me, Jake.”

And without question, he was stepping over the ledge of the bathtub, still fully clothed, until his boots were sloshing in the shallow puddle of water that swooshed to the drain. His hands found your body soon, chilly against your heated skin. He held your waist the best he could with the new addition of the baby bump, but still managed to hold you in such a way that you felt like he was in charge. The way he held you reminded you that you were nothing more than putty in his strong hands. 

He started leaning in, his grip on you, so firm, steady, sure. . . . 

The last time you’d seen him so close to you had been far too long ago. The night in the kitchen when you’d spilt the water, it had been too dark – and you’d been turned away from him. But, you were not turned away right now. Quite the opposite. 

No, right now, you could see every detail of his plush, pink lips as he leaned in further to you. Your heart fluttered in your chest. 

You were ready to feel his lips on yours. 

He was close enough for you to see the stubble coming in above his lip. Though, suddenly, his hands dropped from around your waist and his eyebrows dipped as he started backing away.

No no no no no please –.

“I–I can’t–,” he shook his head, now drenched from the spray of the shower. You followed his action, backing up, too, your eyes looking over his body as he stood before you, unmoving. Just far enough away to not touch each other. 

He wasn’t getting out completely, but he’d distanced himself.

Was he already regretting this? God, your heart started to split in your chest. . . you’d opened yourself completely up, only for him to decide against this – against you.

“Do you not want me?” You asked, voice mixed with hesitation and hurt. Your line of sight landed on your own feet, refusing to look at him. “Because, fuck, Jake – I told you! I told you we shouldn’t have– but now you have me fucking shaking and — goddammit, Jacob! It’s not fair for you to get me to admit those things and then bail as soon as you–!”

“Y/n,” he growled your name, commanding your eyes to land on his. His stare was no different than before. The irritation was flaring, again, though. Just a bit. You could tell. He stepped closer by one step. “I’m not going to fucking bail. I told you I wanted to please you and I plan on keeping my damn promise. I want to taste you so badly. . . I just– ugh.”

Your pulse was pounding in your ears, your chest hot and your heat clenching at nothing. . . You didn’t know how to respond. 

You continued to buzz with anticipation that wouldn’t dissipate in the dense, humid air of the shower. Doing the only thing you could do, you decided to admire what was in front of you. 

His shirt was opened to the middle of his abdomen on what you knew to be a chilly December evening, daring him to catch a damn cold. 

But. . . the sight made you anything but cold–no, seeing his perfectly toned chest heaving and soaking wet. . . it made your entire body flame. His shirt was light blue, the water soaking through the material to make it nearly transparent. It gave you a glimpse at everything beneath his shirt. . . You saw his toned pecs that you needed to put your hands on again. You needed to feel the smooth skin of his chest–with your hands, tongue. . . anything. 

Needed to feel him. 

So, you did what your body told you to do at that moment. 

Taking one wary step forward, you reached your hand out slowly, letting him stop you if he needed to. But, he didn’t stop you. When you glanced up at his face to read his reaction, he was watching your hand move, mouth agape at the action. You could feel his warm breath on your cheek as you took one more step towards him. Without any more thought, you placed your delicate hand on the exposed part of his tanned chest. And, daring to feel more, you slid your palm underneath his button-down shirt to feel one of his toned pecs.

His breath caught at the motion. 

It felt like home to be touching him like this again.

His chest flexed under your hand with the sharp intake of breath. Your breath was choppy, too, not daring to breathe too harshly to scare him away. This moment felt so eerily similar to a moment so long ago – that damn game night. The moment you’d been dared by a stupid ass card game to touch him.

But this time–this time felt worlds different. 

There was history–a baby–between the two people in this moment of time and you knew how to read his body. 

So, it was no surprise to you when he took a step forward, nearly meeting the front of your body with his. You knew it was going to happen before it did; you knew that his hand would reach up to touch your chest as well. 

You watched his hand as he followed through. Though, he didn’t touch your breast like you expected. No, he balanced his hand right above your heart, where it beat furiously for him. 

“Jake,” you begged, his name saying everything you couldn’t say. Your thighs rubbed together of their own accord, desperate. “Please.”

And there it was. His hand immediately went to hold your full, sore breast. It was like a weight was lifted off your chest, literally. You were finding that the only relief your chest could find was from his touch. 

Your legs continued to work at creating friction with every movement of his gentle massage on your breast. The way your chest heaved, nipple so sensitive and taut beneath his palm, your body was pleading for more. Still. You needed more. His hand moved away from the nipple and he held the underside of your left breast.

“Jake,” you were whining, outright. It was pitiful as hell. But – you couldn’t give two flying fucks. 

“I–I can’t kiss your lips,” he explained, voice gravelly and low above you, floating directly to your ear. You looked up, waiting for him to continue. There was more he wanted to say, it was obvious. “That’s–I have to keep something that is unique and sacred to my relationship. Does that make sense?”

“Yes.” It did. It made complete sense and you admired his feeble attempt at saving something for her. . . but, you couldn’t help that it cracked your heart the slightest bit that you weren’t able to feel his lips against yours. 

The tears were welling in your eyes all on their own–couldn’t stop them if you tried. Although, you couldn’t tell if they were from baby hormones or an honest result of the new crease left in your heart at him so obviously not being yours. 

He belonged to her – not to you. And the lack of kissing was a painful, blatant reminder of that.

Kissing him had been something so normal and familiar only a few months ago, you could have kissed him any time you wanted (well, almost any time. . . but still). And . . . you’d given that up. 

Given him up. 

So what could he do?

“What can you do?” Your voice broke with the wetness in your throat, a tear stupidly trickled down your face. 

His grip on your breast stayed firm, his hand kneading the supple flesh just right. “You okay, honey?” He asked, meeting your question with his own. He reached a hand up to hold your cheek and swipe a few more stray tears. “Shhh,” he hushed gently as his hand still worked to soothe your heavy chest. 

You sniffled, body sparking, growing goosebumps rapidly at the way he was stimulating you so deliciously. Your thighs worked hard to ease the throb between your legs. Playing it off the best you could, you offered him a half-assed response. “Don’t ask me why the tears are happening–it’s–it’s the baby hormones,” you sniffed again, willing the tears to go away. 

Thankfully, they did. And, after they’d subsided, he went to touch your other breast, your hand still on his chest, now clawing at his skin with each measured press of his hand at your aching breasts. Your hand trailed up to hold his neck, thumb smoothing at the flesh behind his ear. God, you’d missed holding him and you really loved that spot behind his ear. . . couldn’t explain it. 

“How does it feel?” He soothed, licking his lips once at a sigh you emitted with one particular graze to your tight nipple.

“So fucking good,” you grit out, your hand gripping gently at the roots of his long hair, darkened and soaking wet from the water flowing from the showerhead. “How do you know how to–? They hurt when anyone else holds them. . . but not with you– how?”

“I don’t know,” he replied with a hoarse chuckle. “I have been doing research on how to–,” he coughed, his other hand coming to join the one on your chest, doing his best to give equal treatment to both of your tits. And dammit if he wasn’t doing the best fucking job at it.

You gasped a whine at the additional pressure, his dark eyes finding yours as soon as you’d made the sound. The smile you gave him was bashful, cheeks flaring a deep pink in the soft moment.

He continued his words as he worked his hands so intentionally against your swollen, aching chest. “I’ve been reading on how to pleasure pregnant women– what to do to make them feel better. . . since your body’s changing and shit. And you told me that your tits have been sore, so I’ve been reading on how to help that specifically. I didn’t think I’d get to try it out on you – but, here we are,” he smirked, his eyes connecting with yours once more as he raised a brow. 

Didn’t think he’d ‘get to try it out on you’. 

You blushed, his eyes going back to watching your tits as he softly swirled a thumb on your nipple, you moaned, following his eyes with your own. God bless America. Watching him do it was worse. Your nerves were on fire and you felt your muscles tighten at your core, needing his touch in a million places at once.

“And, when pregnant women have sore tits, it apparently helps to massage them,” he continued, informing you of his research. “So, I thought I’d try that.”

“What else did you find in your research?” You asked, watching his hands move just so, his thumbs rubbing purposefully light circles around and over your nipples. Fuuuck yes.

“For sore tits or overall pleasure?” He pondered, eyebrow raising again as he caught your line of sight. 

“Pleasure,” you breathed, feeling his hands come to a devastating halt on your chest, smoothing over your sides before he dropped them. 

Goddammit, Jake. Don’t stop. 

“Well, I know that some pregnant women really like being touched and have a pretty high libido,” he paused, bringing his hands up to push his soaking wet hair back. Your hand dropped from behind his head. “But I also found that other pregnant women experience the exact opposite – have an aversion to sex.” He eyed you, squinting with a knowing smirk. “I could probably guess which type you are by how much you loved that just now, but . . . I want you to tell me. High libido or low?”

“Well,” you paused, your legs suddenly feeling like Jell-o. So, not wanting to fall or some shit, when he’d successfully pushed his hair back, you reached both hands up to wrap around the base of his head, your fingers working at your own massage on him. “I–I haven’t really felt a high libido for anyone but you. . . I don’t think I’d want it from anyone else right now. . . So, I don’t know what that makes me. High, maybe?” You pondered aloud, wanting his opinion of your predicament. “. . .If I only want you, a high libido for you?”

“Fuck. Are you serious?” You watched one hand reach between you to rub against the strain at his zipper. The other hand came to your hip, pulling you into him further.

He brought you as close as you could come with a new belly in the middle. He glanced down at the growing bump, his eyes gazing at it, so gently. He didn’t reach to touch it—not yet. . . Seeming to wait on you for permission, but not saying it. But. . . you just felt now was not the right time.

So, instead, you surveyed him.

The sight of him admiring your belly was almost too much to process. . . He was looking so carefully and affectionately — he got it. He felt it.

You sniffed, biding your tears the best you could. And at the sniff, his eyes flicked to you. . . His stare said something you thought daily.

That’s my baby, he seemed to say with only a simple twinkle in his eye. His dark irises became so light, his under eye circles seemed to disappear with the wonder in his stare.

He winked at you and sent you into a minor frenzy. As your heart worked to pick back up, he began moving his hand down to your ass to pay attention to the muscle you’d told him was sore earlier.

Your sighs filled the air, your senses overwhelmed by him. He rasped his next question, back on the topic from earlier, voice so low between the two of you. “You only want me?”

“Only you,” you confirmed, the honest words brushing against his face with your quiet, sighed response. 

“So, if I were to be wanting to. . . help you, you know. . . you’d say you have a high libido?” 

“So fucking high.”

“Thank fucking God,” he growled. And with one more push of his hand against himself, he moaned under his breath, and with one more squeeze to your ass, he grasped both of your hips, holding you to him tightly. Your belly, pressed between the two of you, still so foreign in a moment like this.

“Well, there are countless positions to try, but right now I can’t really–.”

“Don’t tell me you’re going to cut it off at all of the other shit, too,” you said, backing away from him, his hands dropping from you as you let go of his neck. “No kissing, so what’s next? What can’t you do? You never answered that.”

He started unbuttoning his sopping wet shirt. And when it was finally completely off, he reached up to drape it across the bar of the shower head. Your eyes tracked every. single. movement. The way his bicep rippled slightly with the stretch, the way his tanned abdomen flexed. . . every muscle, so beautiful in its prominence beneath his soft skin. 

When he was back from his task and looking at you again, shirtless and solid as a brick wall, you couldn’t help but let your eyes wander. He cleared his throat, bringing your attention to his face once more. The smirk on his lips and the way his eyebrow was arched pissed you the fuck off. Was this amusing to him?

“You think it’s funny? How turned on I am and you can’t do a damned thing about it? Even though you led me to believe you could?”

“Who said I couldn’t?”

“You just said you can’t–.”

“You didn’t let me finish, y/n,” he reasoned. “I was going to say I can’t do that right now because I need to focus on you before we get to sex.”

‘Before we get to sex’. . . was he planning on . . . more? 

Deciding to ignore that dangerous train of thought for the time being, you huffed, your arms still crossed at the top of your slightly rounded abdomen. “Well, I’m just confused.”

“The only thing I told you I can’t do is kiss your lips,” he reminded you, the calloused pad of his thumb coming up to briefly touch your plush lips. His eyes followed his action, your lips still pursed in annoyance as you challenged him with your expression and stance.

But you were wavering by the second, especially any time your eyes followed a drop of water from his shoulder, all the way to the waistband of his dark jeans. And every time you caught sight of the raging erection in his jeans. . .

“Y/n.”

Embarrassed and flushed, you flicked your eyes back to his face. You covered it up with indignance and frustration, your arms tightening in their position. “What, Jake?”

“I will do anything else you need,” he reassured, taking a tentative step towards you, boots clicking against the floor of the tub – where you’d managed to press yourself against the opposite wall of the shower. Your body betrayed you, your nipples once again peaking at his proximity. “And. . . I never said I can’t kiss other parts of your body. I can very much kiss you. . . elsewhere,” his eyes trailed to where your thighs were still pressed to relieve the persistent pulse of your center.

“Goddammit, Jacob,” you breathed with a roll of your eyes, arching yourself off of the wall towards him, just in time for him to meet you halfway. “You should have said that.”

His eyes bugged, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips until a bright white smile appeared in a laugh. “I tried! You didn’t let me.”

He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you tightly to him, your belly between you not letting you get quite as close as you used to.

“Then do something–please.”

He leaned forward, kissing behind your ear, right where you liked to kiss him. Then, he trailed his mouth down the column of your throat. He alternated pecks and open mouthed kisses, all the way to your shoulders, collarbones. . . You sighed, completely at his mercy. When he found your left breast, he gave it the most attention. 

He licked around the sensitive nipple of your left breast, mirroring it with the right. At which, he elicited a moan from you that quickly progressed into a very whiny wail. “Fuck! Fuck, yes!” You cried, grasping his wet hair, not sure how to stop yourself if you fell – your shaking knees were bound to betray you, you could feel it. “This is so fucking wrong.”

“I. Don’t. Care,” he growled against the wet, supple skin of your breast. Every word, emphasized with a lick around your tender, hardened flesh.

Your train of thought was halted as you lost all thought in your brain at him full-on kissing your nipples, rather than giving them little kitten licks. No, now he was giving them kisses just like he would your mouth. Tongue and all. You were going to finish from this alone. . . You watched him in pure astonishment, his eyebrows knit in concentration. Then, as if things could get any worse (better?) he moaned – the action vibrated against your skin.

Your hips jolted up into his. Both of you groaned in unison at the contact, his hard dick enticing you as you felt it, only a thin barrier of clothing between you. . . You felt yourself flex at nothing, your thighs feeling the wet result of your arousal.

You knew you were damn close to finishing.

“Don’t cum yet,” he commanded, mumbling around your nipple.

Of course he knew you were on the verge.

Your nipples, usually so fucking sore, felt like they were made of sparklers, electric under his soft mouth. “‘M not done yet.”

“But– I can’t– a-ah-ah!,” you moaned, your body beginning to lose its fight to stand up straight, near to giving out. “I can’t hold on for much longer, Jake. Please. I promise I’ll cum again for you,” you swore, your fingers lacing tightly into his long, chestnut locks. “Please, baby.”

The pet name slipped from your lips without thought of repercussion. But, you didn’t really care that you’d let it slip since it didn’t seem to deter him. In fact, it had spurred him on even more. 

“Not yet,” he bit out, his dark eyes meeting yours from their place at your full breasts. 

Then, he winked, making you throb from that gesture alone. Fuck. You were a goner. You weren’t sure you could do as he said. 

He went back to giving your body kisses, this time trailing back up to your face, little pecks covering every expanse of skin on your flushed face. Then, with one gentle kiss to the tip of your nose, he reached a hand up to hold your cheek.

His eyes held yours, open and vulnerable under his stare. So soft, he spoke to you with fervor in his tone. “I promise it’ll be better if you just wait, baby.”

Him returning the pet name didn’t help matters and only made you more desperate to fall apart.

So, rather than saying anything in return, you decided you’d try your best to follow his instructions. The only thing you could think to do was pinch your eyes shut and lay your head against the wall in frustration. “Fine,” you griped, hands tightening in his hair. 

His mouth worked, venturing down once again, giving sloppy kisses from your collarbones all the way to your hips.

Once there, his hands replaced his mouth and started kneading at your hips as his mouth kept moving downward. His hands did a stellar job at holding you against the wall to prevent a fall.

His hold on you was strong and intent. And, while holding you, as he simultaneously massaged your hips. . . it was fucking heaven. His thumbs moved and pressed with purpose, working the tired muscle at your joints. 

Fuck– he really had done his research to know that your hips could hurt like a bitch. And God knew yours did. 

“My hips– Jake, god. . . thank you,” you sighed, your eyes closing at the way your body felt weightless under his hands and mouth. 

Suddenly, his mouth was on your thighs, going back and forth between each leg until he reached your calves, his hands having to move down your legs with the action, still holding you upright as he knelt before you.

You opened your eyes, suddenly desiring to see him again, and you watched as he gave your legs unrelenting attention. 

You watched in wonder as he very slowly started to work his way up to where you needed him most. But, once he got there, he gave you a look that made your knees buckle. . .

Then, he began on you, wasting absolutely zero time. There was no warning for his mouth meeting your searing hot, wet heat. 

“Oh-oh-oh, J-Jake, f-fuck, yes!” You were nearly incoherent, but who would expect any different when you had Jake Kiszka making out with your wet and waiting pussy.

You’d been aching and waiting to have this again for so fucking long. . .The slew of curse words and moans that escaped your lips were useless, as they all came out as jumbled non-words. Utterly incoherent.

He was doing figure eights with his tongue, inching closer and closer to your opening, not even daring to edge towards your clit yet. Didn’t want you to fucking finish yet, goddammit. 

You clenched your jaw, a growl coming from your lips, unable to do anything but watch him. Your eyes couldn’t dare leave the sight in front of you. He was taking his time to lap at your folds, soaked and fluttering for him. Your hips jerked forward, not able to stop the way his lips and tongue were setting you on fire to the point of retaliation. 

You were trembling, your body not working on its own at all to hold you up. You were dependent on his death grip, now back on your hips, steadying you. He was pressing you so hard to the wall – you fucking hoped that he left bruises in the wake of his fingertips. 

He kept on with his work for a bit longer before the water started turning cold. Fuck no. 

And, of course, as if on cue, Jake backed away, wiping the corners of his mouth with the pad of his right thumb, his left hand still holding you to the wall. 

“I swear to god, Jacob Thomas, if you fucking stop because of some cold wa– oh!” 

He was back to licking up every bit of early release at your heat, flattening his tongue against your slit. You couldn’t catch a breath to finish what you were saying as he replaced his tongue with his fingers. He twirled his pointer and middle fingers through your soaking folds, until he met your entrance.

But, he stopped there. 

And you knew why. He could tell you were cold – obviously shivering from more than his mouth and hands. 

He could read you so well. You didn’t know if it was because of the connection you had to him by carrying his baby or what, but his instincts of your impending reactions came incredibly quick in recent days.

As he spoke, he kept his fingers at your core, spinning them to continue eliciting stimulation. The calluses of his fingertips were the perfect addition of friction to your swollen heat. . . you bit your lip, your head laying against the shower wall. You could barely concentrate on the fact that he’d begun talking.  

“You’re shaking, y/n,” he clarified, as if you didn’t know. 

Which, in true fashion, pissed you off. But, still hazy from his ongoing touch, you closed your eyes to center yourself. 

When you leaned off of the wall the best you could, you opened your eyes. Instantly, it felt like you were going to slip with the movement. But, just when your foot dared to lose balance, his hold on your hip tightened. His fingers were still spinning against you, just on the precipice of entering you. So, you were sure he’d felt your walls flutter at the way he grasped you.

But, he didn’t say anything. He was too focused on your chilliness and your center, your body straight-up shaking from the now-cold water. Turning around, fingertips still tucked between your folds–still not fucking inside of you yet–, he switched the shower off. 

“Jake!” You complained for no reason whatsoever. Well. . . you knew why you were complaining. You were worried. “Please, don’t let this be the–.”

“I’ve kept my fingers where they are to show you I’m not fucking done,” he responded, tone equally lacking tolerance for your attitude. “Can you just be fucking patient?”

“You’re not being patient!” 

“How in the hell am I not being patient?!” 

“Your voice tells me so,” you argued, hearing the way it sounded ridiculous as soon as you said it. You shook your head, body shaking from the cool nip of the bathroom air and your soaking wet body. He was also trembling, his body nearly as wet as yours. 

He removed his fingers, further aggravating you. . . but you couldn’t stay mad for long as he was eliciting a gasp from you, yet again, within seconds. You watched as he removed his fingers from you, bringing them up to his mouth to suck your arousal from them. Closing his eyes and moaning in the process, his opinion of the way you tasted apparent. 

Holy fucking hell. 

“Taste good?” You asked, trying to sound snarky, but failing from the way your breath had escaped your lungs. 

When his fingers left his mouth, he slowly started to stand, eyes connecting to and never leaving yours. His grip on your hip not giving up a single bit in the process. Once he was standing at full height again, he slid the shower curtain open, eyes staying hooked on yours.

He grabbed the towel hanging on the wall rack, momentarily leaving your gaze. But, as soon as he had the towel in his hands, his eyes snapped back to your waiting stare. 

“Fucking delicious. You taste better than anything – always have. . . No other woman compares. But. . . it’s–it’s even more-so now,” he paused, releasing your hip and motioning for you to come towards his arms with the fluffy, waiting towel. You turned your back to him, his breath sliding through his teeth. “Your ass. . . Fuck it all.”

You giggled, feeling so incredibly wonderful for the first time in so long. Holding your arms out a little, he wrapped the towel at your back and handed you the rest to finish wrapping yourself. 

He kept talking as you cinched the white towel around yourself, your breasts not appreciating the way you tucked the material tight around your chest. You winced at the feeling, pissed with the fact that your body was so sore.

Jake’s eyebrows knitted together in worry. “You okay?”

You nodded grumpily. “Yes,” you grumbled. “It’s my boobs. They just hurt.”

There was no missing the way he bit his lip, licking them soon after before he responded. “I’ll help you feel better, baby. Don’t worry.”

The buzzing in your veins was impossible to ignore, and you didn’t trust yourself to give a valid response with how lightheaded he was making you feel. 

All you could do was nod, eyes hopefully communicating your excitement. 

“Anyway, I read about the taste of a woman’s release, too. . . when women are pregnant, they have the tendency to taste sweeter than usual. And I can safely assure you, it’s the motherfucking truth,” his voice was hoarse with the last sentence. He kept on, locking his Amber-brown irises with yours. “And it’s fuckin’ erotic that you taste like the sweetest thing while you’re growing my baby. . . I can’t even explain it, y/n.”

You were positively twitching, your body threatening to unravel at any given moment. Now warm from the towel, you knew most of your shivering was solely from him. 

“You don’t have to. I get how hot it is. Trust me,” you assured, your mouth dry from it hanging open at his words.

Swallowing purposefully, you shook your head before stepping out of the shower. And, once you’d towel-dried your body enough, you bent to tie the towel around your hair, turning away from him. As you made your way to the mirror, leaving him to check yourself, you realized just how red your face was. “Ah! God, Jake, I look like fuckin’ Elmo.”

He belly laughed at that, the sound making your tummy ignite in a swarm of happy butterflies. “No you don’t. Trust me,” he said, still giggling at what you’d said. “. . . ‘look like Elmo’. You’re fucking hilarious.”

Not able to help the laughter bubbling in your chest either, you turned to face him to enjoy the moment together. 

Well—.

You first saw all of his soaked clothes, in a neat pile ready for the laundry, next to him. His belt, rolled tight on the toilet seat. 

And, Jake, completely naked. 

Your body reacted immediately, suddenly ready for the most. Your tone was way too eager when an inward ponder was spoken aloud. “Are we going to have sex?”

Dear God, y/n.

He smirked, shaking his head as he leaned past your naked body to get in the cabinet under the sink for the spare towel you kept underneath the sink. His fingers brushed your ass in the process and you didn’t want to discuss how quickly his touch heated your skin. You turned away from him, leaning towards the mirror to check out the two pesky spots on your face that threatened a pimple. 

“Was that on purpose?” You shot the other question his way, followed by a statement of your own. “My ass has increased in size, just like the rest of me, so . . . wouldn’t be surprised if it wasn’t on purpose and just because it’s huge.”

“It was most definitely on purpose,” he replied, causing you to lean back so you could give him your full attention. The response made your cheeks blush crimson red, barely visible through your slowly lightening skin.

When you swiveled his way, you found him towel drying his hair, his dick still fully erect and tempting the fucking hell out of you. You bit your lip, and he continued on, eyes closed as he focused on drying his hair. God, he was so handsome. “And I don’t know what you mean by the rest of you increasing in size or huge. God. You aren’t huge by any standard, and all I’ve noticed increase in size are the three things I enjoy watching as they get bigger.”

You flushed, turning away once more to work on towel drying your own hair before you left the steamy room. You’d want the towel to wrap up in the chilly hallway. 

Suddenly intrigued by the fact that you were talking so openly with him, you kept going. “The Three B’s? Boobs, belly, butt?”

Jake was laughing again at that, his snort unmistakable, even as you were bent awkwardly at the waist to towel dry your own hair. “Yes,” he chuckled, lighthearted. “That is correct. Did you make that up?”

Damn, I missed this, your mind absently trailed. He was everything wrapped in one.

“I don’t know,” you smiled, your body buzzing with all things him. “You didn’t answer my sex question.”

“No sex,” he promptly replied. Your heart fell, but obviously being oblivious to it, he kept on. “I’ve got a job to finish tonight that doesn’t include my dick.”

“What if I want it to include your dick? Aren’t you doing this to please me?”

How had the conversation just picked up like you’d never stopped being the two of you? The awkward air that had persisted, on and off since the wretched day in the kitchen in August — it was seeming to float away day by day with his knowledge of the baby in your belly. 

But, before that line of thought could run off, he was responding to you. 

“Are you saying you weren’t pleased with what I started in there just now?”

“Of course I fucking was, Jake,” you rolled your eyes. “But, still–.”

“You just answered the question yourself.”

You huffed with a roll of your eyes.

“Would you just finish drying your fucking hair so I can continue eating you out?”

The way your body temperature rose inexplicably at his words was not something you wanted to admit to, so you went with a simple response to keep you on level ground with him, rather than a quivering mess. 

“Aye aye, captain.”

Another snort, followed by a chuckle. “Shut the fuck up.”

“We’re not naming our baby Black Beard,” you stated jokingly, standing up to full height, eyeing him. “I know you love pirates and I love watching the documentaries with you, but. . .,” you grinned at him.

“God, fuck no,” he wrinkled his brow, shaking his body in an air of distaste. “We don’t hate the baby. We love the baby.”

And, for the umpteenth time that evening, your heart rate spiked ridiculously high. 

He loves the baby.

-🌼🌼🌼-

a/n: hmmm... Reader is convinced it’s a one time thing. buuuut does Jake? how do you think things will go in the bedroom once we've left the bathroom? ;)

Taglist:

@joshym, @gretavanfleetposts, @alyson814, @fretaganvleet, @lallisonl, @writingcold, @gvfpal, @twinszka, @jessicafg03, @reesetrippingthelight, @sacredjake, @laurenlovesgretavanfleet, @gretavangroove, @222headedcalf, @dreamssingold, @carbondancingthroughtime, @raviolilegs, @way-to-go-lad, @jakekiszkasmommy, @katgvf, @objectsinspvce, @jaketlover, @vanfleeter, @thetroublegetssoloud71, @seditabets, @jakekiszkapunchmeintheface, @jaketlove, @ohgodthefeeling-gvf, @starcatcher-jake, @anythingforjtk, @lucimoo, @indigostreakmorgan, @gretavanbear, @katelynn-gvf, @alwaysonthemend

@aintthatapity, @bowievanfleet, @fwzco, @takenbythemadness, @cherry-icecreamsmile, @laneygvf, @hi-hi-hello11, @sinarainbows, @jakesbarbarian, @mybussyinchrist, @becinabubblegvf, @heckingfrick, @danigvf, @pinkandsleepy1934, @derrangeddumpsterfire, @klarxtr, @josh-iamyour-mama, @abby-gvf, @cassyface, @gretavansabotage, @sacredtheslay, @alienobsever, @hollyco, @age0fwagner, @raceb14, @stardustcatcher, @styles-canvas, @ladywhimsymoon, @earthgrlsreasy, @peaceloveunitygvf

@torniturntomyarrow, @joshsbonnet, @llrosee, @starshine-gvf, @itsafullmoon, @gvfmarge, @creadliz98, @mackalah, @lek-gvf, @carlyfleet, @profitofthedune, @mefiorini, @welllauragvf, @highway-tuna, @dont-go-home-without-me, @sarah-gvf01, @polemicandcontent, @ageofbajabule, @texas-bbq-pringles, @builtbybrokenbells, @sacredtheslay

(please remind me that you wanna be tagged if i forgot to tag you!)

[thatgirl4815]

Ray's Feelings

Ray's process of falling in love with Sand has such nuance to it that I think gets horribly overshadowed by his actions alone, not their context. Yes, Ray mistreats Sand. Yes, Ray has a lot to apologize for. But I think Ray is a broken person who has a lot to apologize for because he's in a situation that he is grossly under-equipped, both mentally and emotionally, to handle.

@victorialovesstiles' post here includes a great discussion of the moment Ray becomes fully aware of Sand's feelings for him in Ep8. Up to this point, I don't think Ray tried to pin down exactly how he felt for Sand because the situation didn't necessitate it. He and Sand were "friends," and that label was always fine with Ray, until it wasn't enough anymore, until Sand couldn't put up with it. Looking back on all of this progression, I'd argue Ray has had feelings for Sand for as long as Sand has had feelings for him, but he hasn't been in a place to confront them the same way Sand has. It makes sense given that Sand is the one in the bad spot, watching Ray chase after Mew. If their situations had been reversed, I think Ray would've had to contend with his feelings much more directly much earlier.

Ray makes comments like this that point to the depth of his feelings, but he never truly vocalizes them outright until later in Ep9. Ray realizing how happy he is with Sand and admitting to that is the first step in the recognition of his true feelings, that he sees Sand as more than a good friend who takes care of him and just so happens to sleep with him.

Ray's feelings are strong, but they are also delicate, as demonstrated by the fight at Sand's apartment in Ep10. This dialogue in particular:

Ray thinks he deserves to be upset for having his emotions played with, which says more than anything how much Ep9 meant to him. It's also important in the context of money, because Ray's self-worth is so heavily influenced by what he can offer other people: if nothing else, he has always had his wealth to fall back on. And here is Sand claiming to love him, but all Ray can see is someone who accepted payment. Every conversation they’ve about the separation of feelings and money is being put into question.

At the end of Ep10, Ray echoes his dialogue in Ep8. I personally like that Ray makes a point of saying how happy he is with Sand; what stands out to me here is that Ray is confessing this to imaginary Sand, so he's technically only really admitting it to himself. He makes me happy and I keep screwing it up. He does care, and he's always cared, but I can't do anything but ruin it. I was made to ruin things. Those are all thoughts that seem to lay at the core of his dialogue at the end of Ep10.

I guess my main point here is that we witness Ray returning to this idea time and time again that when he's with Sand, he's truly happy. Sand sees beyond his problems, beyond the brokenness. Even with how complex their situation is, there's something so beautiful about that simplicity. Sand makes Ray happy. That’s what it’s always boiled down to.

"I know now that you want nothing from me" -> I have a feeling this entire speech from Ray is going to form a deeper trust between Ray and Sand. Ray knows now that Sand is true. He knows that he has overthought everything. The reason why Ray skews the situation with Sand is because Ray is so used to viewing himself in a negative light, but he was clinging to the hope that Sand didn't see him that way. Even when other characters insult Ray for his behavior (which isn't entirely undeserved), Sand was always there to explain why he was wrong, to encourage him to be better. When it's Sand, it's about growth, not just recognition.

The ending scene in Ep10 is such a catharsis because Ray is finally coming to terms with the fact that virtually all of the doubts and complexities surrounding his relationship with Sand were created by him. But Sand has always been true. Sand has always loved him. And now that he sees that, he knows just how important it is that he clings to that love and never lets it go.

[sea-buns]

hey to a gorgug liker what do you think about his nightmare section from sophomore year? cause I feel like the horror there is less “ah my grandparents were racist” and more “fuck am I being a stereotype? are the people who hate me right about me?” cause wrt to his having to modulate between barbarian and artificer in fhjy it’s like. idk

oh boy do I have thoughts

Tbh, I had zero recollection of the racism stuff until reading this. It was just SO MINOR. His trial in the forest felt really lackluster to me. I feel like everyone else's really dug into an issue at the core of their character and his felt more like "everyone is getting a trial, what do we do for gorgug?" And idk if that was just a bad delivery/call on Brennan's part or if it could have been helped by Zac engaging more in it but it just. Didn't feel like anything. It was a lot more about the dice than the horror of the claustrophobia and the bugs and you've never fit in anywhere you live to make yourself smaller wherever you go you're just the loser who hits hard. Like yeah I guess there was an overarching theme of Gorgug gaining confidence in himself but it was done very poorly imo.

And I think his trial in the forest was wrong for putting such an emphasis on his intelligence. I think that would have been much better suited in fy, back when he was still being heavily bullied, but beyond that it felt like a quick and easy thing for them to grab. Yes, he had insecurities about his intelligence with all the complications with Zelda. But, to me, the focus of fhsy was his HEART. It put a spotlight on how his social circle has grown, and his bully is his friend now, and he's not alone anymore. His interactions with Ayda, the friendship book, trying to help Fabian, I believe in you spring break, it's Gorgug keep going. I made a post earlier in the season (including a great addition by another user) that I think articulates that emphasis on his emotional intelligence very well.

Fhjy HOWEVER. I think it's doing everything that sy failed at. It's giving him space to have an inner conflict. It's addressing lots of little issues and conflicts he's had over the campaign and combining them into one coherent piece. Like, guy was in a relationship pretty much all of fy, and then dealt with the fallout in sy, but I don't think we've EVER seen as much quality relationship development with Gorgug as we have in jy. He and Fig spent an entire summer together trapped in a tour bus and no season has indicated that bond and friendship more than this one. He and Riz have found something to bond over, meanwhile in previous seasons there was pretty much zero one-on-one personal interaction between them. Fabian expressed sadness over Gorgug leaving the Owlbears, because it was the only thing they had that was just for them to hang out and be friends.

Just with that, we're already doing leagues more with Gorgug's character than we ever have. And I haven't even STARTED on his barbificier journey, oh dear god lmao.

Gonna preface this bit with a post I made before the season even started. It was about Zac's steady improvement in his performances with every PC, and how I was predicting that it was gonna culminate into a Gorgug that does him the justice he deserves. It was initially supposed to be a criticism, but I got a little lost in the sauce of loving my boy lol. Still very relevant to the topic of this ask!

God, where do I START?? Addressing his relationship with rage? I'll be honest, I didn't think that would ever be used as a character arc. And I'm not even sure why I've felt that way. I just didn't think... I didn't think about how he might've had a dislike for his own rage. Like, the WAY he rages isn't bad by any means, but I don't think it ever crossed my mind how actually harmful his lessons to sing to combat rage were. No, I did not like the way Porter went about teaching him (a bit too unsupportive of his capabilities and reminiscent of shitty teachers for my liking). But his point about EMBRACING anger; that rage is not bad and does not— should not— need to be stifled. THAAAAT. That opened up such an interesting dialogue for Gorgug.

I do appreciate the beginnings of Gorgug's interest in artificing in fhsy. I think the crumbs of it back then did a great job of leading into his larger commitment to multiclassing. And I think what he's been doing with it this season is exactly what was lacking in his section of the nightmare forest. His trial was a puzzle, based entirely on die rolls, where his solution after failing even when he's assisted by the enemy is to essentially give up. I understand that facing their fears was the whole point of the trials, but his section came off as incredibly anticlimactic and unfulfilling. Just the fact that it was a trial based on stat numbers more than the development of the character itself.

Where junior year succeeds in actually showcasing his intelligence and the evolution of the worth he holds in himself is with the hands-on approach it takes. Yes, the academic rolls are still dice and stats, but there's a physical manifestation that wasn't there before. Gorgug is smart when it comes to getting his hands dirty. It is in the practical applications of his skills that his brand of intelligence shines the most.

And while, once again, I did not LIKE Porter's heavy resistance to multiclassing....I have to admit that I don't think Gorgug would have had such a boost in confidence without that struggle. Even if my boy had trouble expressing it to Porter verbally, HE STOOD UP FOR HIMSELF. Instead of simply rolling over and agreeing that he wasn't built for a technical class and it was stupid to try– he was DEFIANT.

The kid who said "I'm a dumbass. Eat me you stupid bug." took on FOUR CLASSES. Three school years worth of artificer simultaneously. AND stayed with the Owlbears. AND went along on party missions to help Kristen's candidacy. AND was always on deck to help the party with the overarching plotline.

AND HE ACED IT!!! THE FIRST BARBIFICER THAT THE AGUEFORT ADVENTURING ACADEMY HAS EVER SEEN!!!!! He is paving the way for every unprecedented multiclass that follows.

Just in comparison to who he was in the previous season, the amount of drive and self-worth he's gained is astounding. In my eyes, it's done more than enough to makeup for the way his development fell flat in sophomore year.

i hope this fulfilled the ask in the way you were hoping! i told you i'd get carried away lmao. writing a bunch about any of zac's characters is always such a joy. gorgug had always been my favorite of the bad kids but i always found myself wishing he went deeper, y'know? and now it's real. my precious anxious boy has been handled so well. and watching zac's growth as a performer has been such a blast.

thanks for the ask! :D

[sinorim-pisani]

tl;dr Linguistic anthropology except it's about Danny Phantom???

Wake up, new danny phantom obsession just dropped ya'll:

It's time to talk about GHOST LANGUAGE!!

But not the canonical Esperanto, which is a cool and interesting decision on the show's part.

I mean the idea that the ghosts have an entirely new form of communicating that sounds like static and space and ice and fire and everything a creature can feel, all condensed into what is essentially a massive creole language!

I'm a huge fan of authors who, when describing non-esperanto based "ghost speak", choose to take a more eldritch noise approach. Danny, for instance, when using the language of the ghosts, is often said to sound like all the noise of a wintery atmosphere; words like frost, ice, static, tingle, sharp, quiet and cold are employed to connect Danny's speech with his ghost core qualities. It is a fantastic way to bring an eerie and disquieting sense to Danny, and to indicate to us readers that ghosts have a unique and deeply ingrained method of communication beyond the use of human tongues.

To read way too much into something so little, I think that this could indicate that ghosts communicate with their cores! (I know, you're like Sinorim are we back to the ghost cores??) YES, we are back to how interesting ghost cores are!!

Big Question #1: If every creature-turned-ghost that spoke some form of human tongue throughout ANY period in human history, ended up in the Infinite Realms, how would they best be able to communicate?

In Danny Phantom, what makes a ghost a ghost (beyond the whole being dead thing) is their core, and their Obsession, which can be said to be an emotionally charged motivation that stems from strong emotional stimuli during life. Ghosts are creatures of feeling, of sentiment and emotion and memory, and all of those both factor into and stem out of a ghostly core. So to make a couple leaps: if a ghost could not communicate with a human tongue to its neighbor (who would be unable to understand the words), but they both have that commonality of a core and therefore a heightened sense of emotional minutiae, I would say logically the ghosts would then begin to develop a "language" based on feeling and sense. Multiply that effect by.....infinity, tack on a couple millennia, and you end up with a ghostly wordless creole language.

Big Question #2: Since a ghost's core, and subsequently their emotional cognizance and memory, is pretty much like a human fingerprint (individual and quite distinct), how would their language output be affected, and how would others actually be able to comprehend it?

This one is as easy as the difference between po-tay-to and po-tah-to, to-may-to and to-mah-to! What?? But that's just a joke, you say?? While it is a silly set of phrases, it also really concisely demonstrates the vast diversity of pronunciation, and is basically the reason why an international phonetic alphabet exists. Between pronunciation, accents, and the development of linguistic dialects, I think I can say that, at least on the comprehension side, a universal understanding of the Big Emotional Sentiments would have developed over time.

The interesting part lies in the idiosyncrasies of memory. A little side discussion - Danny has an ice core. Why? No idea! but I'm hazarding a guess that it may have something to do with his MEMORY and the emotions he felt when he died. Perhaps he felt the cold metal of the portal walls against him, perhaps the shock itself reminded him of the numbness associated with freezing temperatures or frostbite, maybe he felt a wintery sort of loneliness (it makes sense I swear), and all of that contributed to his development of an ice core. I can use Vlad as an example too, but I'll save that for another time.

So when Danny uses the Language of the Ghosts, he is understood by other ghosts because of a collective awareness of emotional sentiments. However, because of his ice core, which was determined by his individual emotional cognizance and henceforth informs his development, his form of ghost language will always be touched by his memory of the cold. When other ghosts hear Danny in their language, they'll not only understand what he is communicating, but they'll also be able to understand who Danny is, from the little touches of his cold memory that are infused in his communicating, once again thanks to his ice-based ghostly core.

And when humans hear it, they get super bad vibes because they can't understand the sounds and memories and feelings that the ghosts trying to broadcast to them!

I'm imagining poor Danny first learning he could speak the language, and then trying to show it off with his friends and being sad that it freaks them out when all he was trying to say was "You guys are the best" T.T

Good god this turned into an entire essay.

Does any of this even make sense?

Ultimately I just think that it's super cool that authors make Danny sound like the wintery freaky eldritch creature that he could be when he's speaking to ghosts XD

To be continued!

[banapsha]

The Art of Plot Twists: A God-Tier Guide

Hey there, sunshine(s) and moonlight(s)! Do you want to rock your readers' worlds with mind-boggling plot twists? Well, lucky for you, I recently met a mind reader in my basement and they told me you want to know this. Buckle up, because we're about to begin a journey into the abyss. Kidding! We are going to the Kingdom of Twistano-Turnano; narratives that'll leave jaws on the floor and minds on some walls. Strap in, grab your favorite snacks and let's get this party started. (I believe that one was too much, right? Coz’ who’s got time for any parties? Or am I the only one missing out?) 

What Makes a Good Plot Twist?

Let's kick things off with the basics. A plot twist isn't just about throwing in a random curveball– oh no, it's about shaking up the very fabric of your story. A meaningful plot twist should be a seismic shift in the audience's perception, whether it's through an unexpected event, a shocking revelation, or a philosophical awakening. We're talking external, internal, and philosophical shifts that make the audiences question everything they thought they knew. It's about changing your audience's reality.

The Three Types of Shifts: External, Internal, and Philosophical

The external shift– think unexpected deaths, hidden treasures, and jaw-dropping identity reveals. These twists are all about rearranging plot elements in ways that leave readers gasping for air.

The internal shift– this one's all about messing with your audience's emotions. One minute they're feeling all warm and fuzzy, and the next, BAM! You hit 'em with an event that leaves them shaken to the core. Just make sure to keep things clear, or you'll have a bunch of confused readers scratching their heads.

The philosophical shift– the granddaddy of all plot twists. This one's all about making your audience question their beliefs and perceptions. You take 'em from thinking they've got it all figured out to realize that maybe, just maybe, they've been wrong all along.

To really knock your readers' socks off, you gotta apply all three shifts. That's right, no half-measures here. Using just one or missing one entirely is just going to confuse the shit out of your audiences. Trust me, you don't wanna do that.

What makes a plot twist good?

Shock Value: First things first, a good plot twist needs to pack a punch. We're talking about leaving your readers reeling, jaws on the floor, and minds blown. If it doesn't make 'em gasp, it ain't worth it. The key is to not settle for the first twist that comes to mind. Dig deep, get creative, and find a way to really knock your readers' socks off.

Believability: Sure, we love a good surprise, but it's gotta make sense, ya know? You can't just say that the human we have been following around is a dog disguised as a pizza! Nope, we ain't gone believe that boy. Keep it real. Actually, the real(er) the better. Foreshadowing is your best friend. Drop hints, plant seeds, and lay the groundwork for your twist early on. That way, when it finally hits, it'll feel like a natural progression of the story. (Maybe show me a barking human to make me go along with the pizza dog twist.)

Impact on Characters AND Plot: A truly great plot twist doesn't just shake things up for the sake of it. It needs to have real consequences, affecting not only the characters but the entire storyline. Don't just focus on the shock factor – think about how your twist will affect your characters and your plot. Will it send them spiraling into chaos? Will it force them to confront their deepest fears? Make it count.

Variety in Tropes: Cliched tropes are good but if you can manage to twist it up, that's even better. Try to give us something we've never seen before. Surprise us, delight us, and keep us guessing 'til the very end. But don't be afraid to break the mold. Sure, some tropes are tried and true, but the best twists are the ones that defy expectations. Surprise your readers, challenge their assumptions, and leave 'em begging for more.

Timing: Timing is literally everything. You need to build up to the right moment for that twist like a mastermind supervillain. Keep your readers on their toes. Drop breadcrumbs along the way, build up the tension, ratchet up the suspense, and then hit 'em with that (do-do do-do) twist right when they least expect it. You gotta know exactly when to drop that grenade. Trust me, it'll be worth the wait.

Plot Twist Techniques:

Breadcrumbs: The classic "how did I not see this coming" twist. Make 'em scratch their heads and wonder, "How did I miss that?" Lay the groundwork for your twist by dropping subtle hints and clues throughout your story. It's all about planting those breadcrumbs and watching your readers play Sherlock Holmes.

Misdirection: The good ol' red herring. Lead your readers down one path, only to yank the rug out from under them at the last minute. Get 'em emotionally invested in a particular outcome, then flip the script and watch 'em squirm. Mix this with the breadcrumbs and you have a beautiful pie.

The False Win: Picture this – your characters are riding high, victory is in sight, and then BAM! You hit 'em with the ultimate plot twist: it's not over yet. Give 'em a false sense of comfort, then snatch it away like a cruel twist of fate. 

The Unprovoked: Ever seen a plot twist  that leaves you scratching your head and wondering, "Where did that come from?" That's the unprovoked twist. It happens out of nowhere, catching everyone off guard and leaving 'em reeling. It's unexpected, it's unpredictable, and it's oh-so deliciously twisty.

Types of Twists: The classics

Identity Reveal: Remember the "I am your father" moment? Yes. There's nothing quite like the shock of discovering that a character's true identity isn't what it seems. Whether it's a long-lost twin or a secret agent in disguise, identity reveals never fail to leave readers gasping for air. Mix it up to make it newer and you have an even tastier sandwich.

Motive Reveal: Ever wondered why that one seemingly innocent character was acting so shady? Well, it's time for a motive reveal – the moment when all becomes clear and the true intentions behind a character's actions are laid bare. It's like peeling back layers of an onion, only way more dramatic. (Plot twist: This entire post has been written so you will buy my book, The Sinner and The Scarred from Amazon! It is available in both Paperback and Ebook formats but if you have Kindle Unlimited you can read it for FREE!)

Background Reveal: Behind every great character is a great backstory. Well, these backstories can also be great plot twists. (What? The hero's love interest is the villain's child. WHAT? The hero's love interest is the villain! WHAT? THE HERO IS DATING BOTH THE VILLAIN AND THEIR CHILD!!) From dark secrets to hidden traumas, background reveals add depth and complexity to your story.

Character Deaths: Sometimes, the only way to shake things up is by "killing your darlings." Actually, whether it's a beloved hero sacrificing themselves for the greater good or a villain meeting their untimely demise, character deaths are guaranteed to leave readers in shock and awe. Especially when done right. (Set the mood for a fun wedding. Then kill someone at the wedding. Kill the bride. Or the groom. Kill 'em both. Have them kill each other!)

Destruction of Setting or Important Elements: Say goodbye to the status quo, because we're about to shake things up with a little destruction. Whether it's a beloved setting crumbling to the ground or a crucial element of the story being obliterated, destruction twists add a sense of urgency and chaos to your narrative. (Burn your hero's house down. Extra points if their family was still inside. Minus points if their dog was in there, though.)

Timeline Shift: A timeline shift can turn your story on its head, sending characters hurtling through time and space or revealing shocking truths about the past, present, and future. (It will be a weird way to find out you’re adopted, you know?)

Surprising Events in General: Sometimes, you just gotta throw caution to the wind and hit your readers with something completely unexpected. From random acts of kindness to bizarre coincidences, surprising events add an element of unpredictability to your story that'll keep readers guessing until the very end. 

Special Ability Reveal: The moment when a character discovers they've got powers beyond their wildest dreams, things start getting out of hand. Whether it's flying, telekinesis, or the ability to talk to animals, special ability reveals add a touch of magic and wonder to your story.

Do remember when it comes to plot twists, the sky's the limit. But placement is key. Whether it's smack dab in the middle of your story or right at the climax, the timing of your twist can make or break its impact. 

Now, let's touch on what NOT to do. Forced twists? No, thank you. Unbelievable plot developments? Hard pass. And let's not even get started on the dreaded plot armor– nothing kills the vibe faster than a last-minute rescue by bad writing. (Leave a comment if you’d like to learn more about what NOT to do!)

In conclusion, mastering the art of plot twists is no easy feat. It takes careful planning (AKA outlining of the story), strategic execution, and a whole lot of creativity. So go forth, soldiers, and twist those plots until they're unrecognizable. But remember, with great power comes great responsibility – don't abuse those twists, and always respect your readers' intelligence.

Now, go forth and twist to your heart's content. Happy writing! 🌀✨

[rabbiteclair]

more Girls' Last Tour thoughts, which are admittedly mostly thoughts I had for the first time about five years ago only to resurface today upon having a long conversation about the series with a friend. this one is fully spoiler-y

as far as emotional suckerpunches go, I personally think it's like... [the entire Silence chapter] > [Chito's breakdown after she realizes the Kettenkrad's bricked] > [the end of the Art chapter] > [the end of the Life chapter] > 'the planet will finish life's long work and go to sleep as well' > [the actual end of the series]. This isn't a criticism of it, since I really like the end. I just find it kinda funny.

similarly I find it funny that this series, where every named character is strongly implied to die either during or shortly after its events, which is about 40% ruminations on death, containing the line "currently, you two are the only surviving humans of whom we are aware," is categorized as an Iyashikei. H E A L I N G. I mean I don't even necessarily disagree but goddamn.

One of the core dichotomies of the series, I think, is... it repeatedly makes it clear that people have done horrible things here, and the amount of deliberate destruction that's gone on is absolutely monstrous. They stumble onto nukes and giant war robots that can blow up a city, and there are destroyed tanks and giant craters everywhere. Basically everywhere they go is a former war zone. But it takes a really positive view of humanity. Outside of the attack on their hometown in the flashback, every single person they meet is nice and helpful. Any time it delves into human nature, the message is 'actually humans are pretty cool most of the time, and our basic drive is to take care of each other, not this survival of the fittest bullshit.'

which is one thing that I think sets it apart from a lot of fiction in this space? It never tries any kind of 'humanity is doomed in the long run because we're all violent animals beneath the facade of civilization' message or anything. Humanity rules, and it's a genuine tragedy that things have come to this.

kinda related, the series does a lot to make it clear how all of this is an unfathomably large tragedy. There are tons of background shots of entire abandoned cityscapes, there's the chapter with the mass grave, the gigantic library full of books, and so on. The actual scale of 'no, really, everyone and everything has an end sooner or later' gets driven in repeatedly. At the same time, it spends a lot of time on how something as small as destroying a single diary can be a tragedy in its own right, too. I guess I'm just kinda used to media that takes that kind of grand high-level view dismissing the small stuff as trite and unimportant when we could be putting up another number with lots of zeroes to say how many people died.

there are a lot of different ideas floating around on things like what it all means in the end, and whether it's meaningful to leave anything behind. The AI is overjoyed when she gets her chance for oblivion. The people in the graveyard have a statue to watch over them. Chito's attempt to leave something in the form of her diary is ultimately futile, and while she learns to find other meaning, destroying her diary and the books still isn't portrayed as a good thing. Other people are recorded forever in images and videos, and it's wonderful. Ultimately I don't think there's any one answer or message. Keeping with the general existentialist kinda themes, what matters is what the people involved find meaningful in that context, but that drive to create and preserve meaning for the future is both universal and noble.

while there's a lot to be said about the visuals overall... the fact that basically the only thing on the upper layer is a spiral staircase leading up into the air with no destination sure is some symbolism, huh.

similarly, while it wouldn't change the events any, symbolically I think it's very important that their long, ultimately pointless meandering journey that ends in death was upward, not downward.

on another level, though, it's kinda implied that the higher strata are newer/more recently maintained. So it's also essentially them moving through (and revisiting a lot of) human history to take their position at the very end.

Yuu's gun is never used for anything but target practice, and then she chucks it aside as soon as it's too much effort to carry. They use an old tank for a shower. They find a working military sub with nukes inside, and it's only useful because there's chocolate and a way to look at the storage on a camera. The one time they really fire a weapon, it's horrible, and the one thing they kill is portrayed as a tragedy. Even their helmets are mostly a running joke of 'oh my helmet totally would've stopped that falling building.' For a series that includes a lot of military stuff, it regards military stuff somewhere between 'disdain' and 'indifference.' Very 'the world is ending and you think a rocket launcher is going to be useful? Put that thing down and help me look for food.'

that said, the choice to give them a vehicle from WW2-era Germany is still a pretty damn unfortunate one. Considering the series's consistent stance against violence, disinterest in war, and casually disdainful treatment of weapons and military stuff, I'm comfortable saying that Tsukumizu almost certainly isn't a closet nazi, but still. At best it gives the wrong impression to anybody who hasn't gotten about a dozen chapters in and started thinking about the themes, and there's nothing the themes do with it that wouldn't work basically as well with any other military transport anyway.

the fungus things apparently being the inspiration for the god statues is clear enough, but just what their deal is remains surprisingly undefined. I've always figured they were genetically engineered or something, made specifically to clean up the environment. Which is itself a hell of a thing if so, deifying the creatures that basically symbolize 'maybe we can undo the harm we've done, and if that takes longer than we live, at least we'll leave something behind.'

I really don't know how to feel about the whole Shimeji Simulation connection. (if you aren't familiar) On one hand I feel like it undermines a lot of the series' messages to go 'oh but just kidding, everyone's fine and nobody really dies for good.' On the other hand, as somebody who's read/watched through the series about half a dozen times and really marinated in the despair, my primary immediate reaction is 'oh thank god they absolutely deserve this.' And it isn't like I haven't written multiple stories about characters embracing their imminent demise only to turn out okay against all odds in the epilogue.

Yuu's gay little run. this is still a thought

[adracat]

G Witch 22 thoughts

Banger episode this week! I loved every single minute. My only gripe was that it felt far too short. A pox on these weekly waits. Future binge watchers don't know how good they have it

Very much enjoyed the doubling down on QZ's destructive power and complete supremacy. No matter how many weapons/ships you have it doesn't matter because Aerial can just override them. It's a good establisher of stakes.

Mio burrito spotted. She is looking so rough here. Completely unsurprising she won't acknowledge Guel though. He had no sway on her even on her best days. Sorry, my guy. You lack Suletta's magic touch. Only she can play the Mio whisperer now

DEMI BARDING!! Big fan of that chonky suit after Asticassia ep so glad it's getting more use. I don't even care that I'm being manipulated into buying another kit. Secilia is a real one, glad she sat her butt down so the world didn't implode

This was a nice moment and gave Suletta closure on 4lan. He was someone she cared for, no matter how brief. That revelation about her list being Prospera's idea was a bit of a shocker tbh. I just thought she constructed it from the media she watched/read. The truth is way worse lmao. I guess it was meant to acclimate her to the school and therefore the dueling games for Aerial? Little did Prospera know that Suletta's dork charm would snare the heart of Delling's daughter immediately.

This was sudden but a joy to watch. I suppose Guel was tired of being Mio's ineffective secretary lol. But in all seriousness, this was sweet of him to arrange a duel so the lovebirds could be reunited. You've become a solid bro, Guel. Hope nothing dire happens to you.

Btw, I fully expect some fanfic authors to leap on a fencing au now. Pretty please?

This entire scene was so Utena I couldn't believe it. Well, actually the entire episode was littered with Utena but still. The baring of their mistakes. The acceptance of their faults. GOD this was so amazing.

I love how far Suletta has come in her development. Such an excellent change of mindset from viewing her time at Asticassia as a mistake to fully believing meeting Miorine was a blessing. She's so confident in her feelings

THEY'RE SOMEDAY TOGETHERINGGGG I see you Okouchi, giving us rabid Utena fans the good shit. This show is such a great homage in so many ways but this episode takes the cake! (Bit concerned that Suletta didn't verbally promise anything, just smiled fondly. Perhaps wistfully?)

This gave me such an unpleasant jumpscare though. The deliberate framing with Mio's bare legs followed by catastrophic bedhead freaked me out. I could have done without the Anthy reminder, thank you. Made such a sweet moment feel a bit horrific. I envy those who are oblivious to what I'm talking about

But this was so very sweet. I was getting misty-eyed. These babies have been through so much yet the truest thing is their love for each other. Their relationship remains the emotional core. Side note: Mio why are you the size of a housecat? Just how small was Notrette even

I'm glad I was correct in my read that Earth House doesn't truly blame Mio for Earth, only her staunch refusal to seek help. This was a nice little moment as was her brief words to Delling. Sleeping beauty certainly took his sweet time. I do wonder what he makes of this chaos?

Guel's reservation about Suletta heading to QZ is understandable but as she says, it's her choice. And Mio won't let anyone else decide Suletta's fate as she did before. Her quick death glare at Guel was so funny. Mans can only slap himself into complaince. Even when not engaged to Mio, he still obeys like a loyal sidekick lmao

Didn't expect this quick Shaddiq convo. I like how he recognizes instantly that Mio is better because of Suletta. It's very in character for him to accept Suletta's importance in Mio's life without resentment. I am wondering at the deal Mio makes with him. What could he possibly do for her? Perhaps it's Earth-related

At first I thought this was the sweetest thing. I still think it's sweet, but I also find the phrasing incredibly... weird. Not 'I'll always love you?' 'Always be with you'? Instead 'I will always be attached to you'. Could be nothing but it still sounds vaguely ominous. And it's coded in the genetic sequence of her tomatoes all things. The hell were you doing Notrette? Nice nod to mythology here though. Anesidora is an epithet for Demeter, an agricultural goddess, and Pandora. And like Pandora, Notrette unwittingly released evil in the form of QZ and possibly collaborated with Prospera to upload Ericht's biometric signature.

Aww farmer wives on Earth please! Still don't like Suletta only smiles when Mio declares anything future related. I get the rudest feeling she's not making hard promises because she's too aware of the peril. They look so happy here, so imma ignore the danger signs and just bask in their affection.

Mio forcing aside her own fear to support Suletta was so good. She was so relieved when Suletta broke Permet 5 alive, bursting into tears afterward. It was rough for me to hear Suletta gasping in pain, so I can't imagine how Mio must've felt. I don't ever want to see people claim she doesn't love Suletta ever again

I have thoughts on Calibarn's design (Utena spoilers) and place in the plot, but for this review I'll just say it looks neat. I wish it was a bit more unique, but it makes sense they need it to resemble its sibling plus its obvious Vanadis roots. That boom broomstick is super cool though!

I enjoyed Prospera's muted reaction here. She's surprised by Calibarn but not intimidated or angry. I'm sure she has complete faith in Eri's ability to handle this hurdle and her daughter's commitment to the plan. She must know Eri loves Suletta, but assumes it ultimately won't change a thing. For now, at least.

You know, I expected Lauda to lose it but I didn't expect him to be this stupid lol. You can't even use the damn GUND format idiot, you really think you'll beat your brother? I can't believe I gave him even the slightest bit of credit. Easily the worst character in the show. I hope Guel crushes him (and he doesn't get Guel killed in the process)

Petra deserves better 2023!

Ah and Eri peeks her GUND ghost form out to say hello before clashing with Suletta. This is an incredible shot, love the visuals as always. If it goes full Utena as I suspect, we'll see Eri break/override Calibarn. The name of a holy sword bashing at the Gwitch Rose Gate doesn't bode well. What that means for Suletta is anyone's guess, but I have faith she'll live. I fully expect her to get assistance of some kind. After all, the show has been telling us all along that working together is far better than struggling alone!

[dani-ya-dig]

OKAY I FINALLY HAVE TIME SO ITS TIME FOR DANI TO FINALLY RANT ABOUT THE SAM AUDIO!!!

Written as I’m listening to the audio again so I don’t forgor.

I think it’s been out long enough to avoid spoiler but I’m gonna put the cut just because this post is probably gonna be really long.

The beginning of this audio scares the shit out of me not matter how many times I listen to, like he is fucking ZOOMING. At least this time he has a reason to be zipping all over the place. Unlike in his “talking about the future” audio where that motherfucker used vamp speed up the stairs for no goddamn reason

Also I appreciate the fact that Darlin ran into Sam, fully shifted. They hit him first and only then were like “oh yeah I’m a giant wolf rn”.

CHRIST DARLIN! THE MAN JUST SHOWED UP LET HIM BREATHE BEFORE YOU JUMP HIM

Ugh love me a Sam reverse comfort audio. This is DELICIOUS

Circling back to Sam’s tendency to bury his emotions in the moment, and only allowing himself to feel them when he is in a safe space (cough cough Darlin)

“I guess that says a lot about what family is to me” STOPPPPPPP

“Apparently I’ve got a knack for landing myself in shit. And then sticking around long enough to get convinced it’s all I deserve” IM ACTUALLY FUCKING CRYING I HATE IT HERE. HE IS ME FR.

“I. Am not. A Solaire” DAMN RIGHT SAMMY! GET HIS ASS!

Sam kind danced around this part but I noticed it immediately. The way he kind of paused when he talked about William putting giving him a house as a form of trying to make himself more favorable to Sam. Sam worded it as him favoring stability and needing that. But also like… one thing that Sam talks about repeatedly in his playlist is how important the idea of home is to him. And William gives him a house… an attempt at giving him a home, so that the “home” is inherently tied to him in Sam’s mind.

I know it was well intentioned on William’s part but god it feels fucking grimy nonetheless

Sam might not think that William is and evil mustache twirling villain, but I do /j

Real footage of William Solaire rn

“I’m a healer. Not was. Am.” YES THE FUCK YOU ARE SAM!

No because actually Sam is so right. He IS still good. He CAN still help. I’m not 100% on the lord of vampire or how difficult it would be for a vampire of Sam’s age to externalize magic. But it’s pretty damn impressive that he can do what he can do even after his core was entirely replaced. He must have been a STRONG like super strong freelancer for that much of his powers to remain after his turning. But it’s also not just healing magic he can still manage even though that definitely would have been his specialty and the type of magic he studied the most. The other types of magic we have heard of him doing are also cleaning magic and earth elemental magic (WHICH YO???). Like that’s impressive imo.

Also we have all talked about Sam joining Shaw Security on night shift at this point. BUT!!! After Sam talked about how he wanted to be a healer still but only wasn’t because that wasn’t what the house needed from him. I hope that he gets hired on as Shaw Security’s professional healer <33

I don’t know how viable that would be. But I think it could work. I don’t imagine he would be patching up multiple huge injuries everyday so it could 100% work!! GUYS I SWEAR PLEA–

(Erik if you’re spying through your secret tumblr account give me what I want)

Sam will never have to go to another summit again 🤞

NO ONE WILL PUT THAT MAN IN A SUIT AGAIN!! HE IS FREE!

Sam and Darlin are so in love with each other. They deserve to be happy, just for a little bit. I need a moving audio with them. Them just packing up their shit <33

Okay did I love this video. Yes! It was Sam, so like that’s bound to happen with me lmao. But also like it was just nice. I enjoyed it. I hope Sam gets to find more of who he is outside of the house.

But also because my hyperfixated menace ass can’t keep my nose out of spoiler I KNOW THAT SAM BITES DARLIN IN THE BA AND I JUST COSSBDKDBX

Look I get why it happened logistically. It’s been a long time coming, and now that Sam’s out of the house of Solaire, they aren’t going to be facilitating his need for blood bags anymore. So he is gonna need to feed on something. It makes sense.

But I wish that decision like that regarding trauma Sam has around his turning would stop being made in the aftermath of very emotional moments. Like when he decided he was ready to go further with Darlin, I wish it would have come from a place of “Ive worked through everything that happened to me, and I love you, so I really want to take this next step” instead of “I’ve seen so many people die, and I have been reminded how fragile life is, and I am terrified of the thought of not getting to do this”.

Idk maybe it’s just me, but things like that don’t feel like decisions that should be made when you feel like life is crumbling down around you??

Also it brings up the logistical issue of, Erik didn’t explain that to the non-patreon listeners. So like… if it gets brought up in future audios a lot of people are probably gonna be a little confused, since I only know because I snoop through Sam spoilers.

Eh. But all in all, live laugh love Sam Collins and stay livin la vida loca I guess

[invested-in-your-future]

They had to take a breather to develop characters. Hard to do with Salem's threat looming over them.

Plenty of fictional works manage to cram good ol' character development in even the most tense of the situations.

Honestly its rare to even find a fictional fantasy or contemporary world where some threat isn't looming over characters or the world isn't ending. How would character development happen then if the characters are running out of time against unbeatable threat?

By realizing that narrative progression =/= time passage.

The cool thing about fictional stories and overall fiction, is that passage of time is completely up to the control of the writer.

A character can reflect on a lifetime of achievements in split second. An entire book can take place during the exact same single hour but from different perspectives.

And again, RWBY knows this. Half the V3 transpires in literally less than a day. The whole finale takes up barely few hours. Even in the bad volumes the narrative uses the convenience of skipping ahead quite often to "get past" writing specific bits of story or to not have to deal with things.

The show already avoided dealing with so many issues, both outwardly between characters and inward, that its all boiling over. It doesn't take a filler padding dimension to actually have characters interact or emote or actually self-reflect or to make all those Chekov's guns go off.

The fact that they genuinely thought "we need to take the characters LITERALLY OUT OF THE PLOT so we can deal with this "character stuff"" is damning for writers. Like it's literally treating CHARACTERIZATION OF YOUR LEAD CAST as nothing but a sidequest.

And as for them doing this to develop characters...

But. They. Haven't????

Like AT ALL?

V9 does touch upon on some of surface-level issues, but also avoids like majority of core issues the show has never dealt with.

It starts by establishing few SHOCKING facts

"Ruby is Traumatized" - well gee, who would have known, its not like that's literally been obvious since V3. Does she reflect on Penny? LOL. On her worldview kind of falling apart? LOL. On the nature of her relationship with her team and how all of them have changed as people? NOPE ITS ALL FINE YOU ARE FLAWLESS BBY, TRAUMA AIN'T REAL. YOU DON'T ACTUALLY HAVE TO DEAL WITH IT AT ALL.

"Blake and Yang have unresolved issues" - Yes. Again. V3. Final Scene. They have issues they have never really spoken about. Issues that were set up but then got no progression as the characters just stood around. And guess what? They don't in this volume either. The show just sidesteps it. Because the personal character issues ARE STILL IGNORED - Has Yang dealt with her aimlessness and identity search and actually processed her trauma, her conflicting feelings about her overall role, her mother, her sister and everything else that has literally piled up for years? NOPE. Has Blake actually dealt with the moral conundrum she was living? Has she figured out what exactly she wants to do? NOPE. Have they both faced abandonment issues they have? LOL.

"Jaune feels bad" - well gee, that's a new one. Its not like ~70% of the show's screentime is telling us this for some reason rather than focusing on actual lead cast. Its okay, any consequences he managed to somehow get will be undone by MAGIC.

And beyond that? Weiss? PFFT. Penny's unfortunate fridging? PFFFFFT. The actual progression of characters being the focus? PFFT. Here's bunch of new absolutely nonsensical lore that completely breaks suspension of disbelief instead. How do you like talking animals in goofy alternate dimensions run by a tree?

Its like whoever wrote this took cursory glance at like Volume 1 character moments and went "this will do"...and then the lore about magic tree gods was vomited all over the result

If anything V9 tells us they won't Develop characters.

Let me sum up what V9, intentionally or unintentionally, says:

"Self Reflection is bad. Having flaws is BAD. Good People don't have flaws nor have to deal with psychological trauma nor have to question the morality of their actions or nature of their world. A mean evil being whispering on your shoulder is all that psychological trauma is and as long as you just reaffirm that nothing you did ever affects you or defines you it will all go away, especially if you have magic god tree available to plot device you. Whatever good or bad decisions you made don't matter. People enabling your behavior, flaws and escapism is what it means to be a good friend. Even passage of time and losing years meaninglessly doesn't really affect you or change you because you are not allowed to change and will go back to normal via a plot device. Acceptance and understanding of one's emotions, thought patterns and problems, one of fundamental elements of therapy (or really any sort of healing) is BAD. You don't need coping mechanisms of any sort if you ignore issues being there! Actually exploring your relationships with others and any sorts of issues and trauma there is BAD and you should just pretend its all fine between you all. Even facing your trauma is BAD - you need to avert your eyes, listen to the voices telling you you are flawless and move on. After all there's Absolute Unchanging Truth of Right and Wrong. There's absolute definitive way to view the world and yourself. There's only the True Way To Be Yourself and the rest is Lies. Whatever trauma or issues you have stems from LIES. Who needs self awareness? Who needs change? Who needs any sort of progress if an unchanging(literally) Divine Higher Will can just tell you what you are supposed to do with your life next?

All of that stuff about facing your trauma, picking yourself back up and the necessity to keep moving forward because nobody else will do that for you and you need to persevere through hardships(You know the specific thing Monty Oum wanted to focus on)? Who needs that when Greater Divine Beings Tell Your Perfect Flawless Existences What To Do and you don't ever need to change or grow as people or face your trauma and issues"

The purpose of entire V9, the purpose of the Volume upon which the very fate of RWBY franchise's continued existence hinges is all about telling you that NOTHING IN THE SHOW MATTERS and characters won't ever change or develop and will remain exactly the same till the day they achieve their Purpose.

Its yet another volume that literally doesn't matter. Just like majority of the show past V3. Just pretending the lead characters figured out their issues offscreen is better than what V9 gives us.

[dustteller]

I just finished watching all the available episodes of The Apothecary Diaries, and I have to say that it surprised me!

The premise of an apothecary working for the emperor's consorts and solving medical mysteries is already a gun one, but the execution really elevated the concept past entertaining romcom to genuinely fantastic storytelling. It's not revolutionary, but it's certainly deeply endearing, and I really enjoyed how it found a balance between lighthearted comedy and acknowledging the awful aspects of sex work and being a woman/lower class in a world where neither are valued. It doesn't explore the darker side in detail, at least not so far, but it still does a fantastic job in making the horrible parts feel like a real part of the setting while still making the choice to focus on the women's joy even when faced with hard situations. I guess I just appreciate these things being openly discussed without immediately having it be a psychological story about dealing with trauma?

The characters are also soo good, and while most lack depth (its been nine episodes, so for a cast this big, that can be excused), usually their schtick is strong enough that it can easily carry their appearances. You also get the sense that while a lot of these characters do fill out comedic roles/archetypes, there's a lot more going on beneath the surface. Their schtick is fun, but its not all they have, its just there to help the audience familiarize themselves and bond with the charcaters while their entire personality is unearthed. The entire cast is genuinely absolutely delightful and reasonable and feel incredibly real while also being really funny.

The romance portion is also really really fantastic. Both Maomao and Jinshi are hilarious little freaks, and their dynamic is so fun to watch. Maomao is such a good take on the cold, blunt, genius character, who is socially challenged but very far from frigid. She's practical and logical while also keeping a very strong emotional core founded in empathy and genuine care for the people around her. Her obsession with poison is also pulling triple duty, as it 1) serves to break her cold facade and provides comic relief in the form of an ongoing gag, 2) gives the reader a strong understanding of her guiding motives/desires, and 3)gives her role as a medical investigator narrative justification. Of course she'd know what was used to poison someone, that's her whole thing! Jinshi himself is a counterpart to Maomao's colder tendencies, being very clingy and emotional. This show is not afraid of making him a pathetic little obsessed man, and it's all the better for him. Unlike other possesive and obsessed male leads, Jinshi manages to mostly stay away from the creep factor by being so uttely pathetic and cringe that he never really comes across as an actual threat. Couple that with him actually being very respectful of Maomao, only engaging in light flirting, and how he never actually wants to change her (most rapey MLs try to break the FL out of their feisty charcater or demean her for it while showing her how they're more powerful), and Jinshi makes for a very good love interest that also feels like a very safe comfortable person, which I feel matches the tone of the show very well. He's also as much of a freak as Maomao ("she wants to crush me like a bug <3333🥰🥰🥰), so they're very well matched there, too. He's such a petty loser, and that makes him a stronger character.

The story seems to be ramping up, and while I don't think it'll ever lose the lighthearted tone, I'm excited about how it already seems to promise a more in-depth exploration of the world it's set up the scaffolding for. For what it's worth, I also think the show has done a very good job at making the world feel expansive and mysterious, while also balancing that wholesomeness, which for a show centered around sex workers is quite the feat.

Anyways, long story short, I think the nine episodes that are out so far are really great, and the story thrives through how utterly endering it is. I am charmed by the world and the characters and what the plot has promised us, and while I don't expect it to revolutionize anime or whatever, it's still a masterclass in narrative shorthand and the act of balancing its heavy themes, especially when it comes to the characters themselves. There's so many of them that are so fun and memorable that I didn't mention, but who absolutely deserve their own posts, and that's only nine episoded into a comedy show, which I think goes to show how strong of a start this series has. Overall, I'd rate the show so far an 8/10, and I'm really excited to see what will come from the next 15 episodes.