the thing is, for MCR death was always an external force. like, Helena, It's Not A Fashion Statement, even Famous Last Words, etc it's all like, death is this future, potential thing they're fighting back against. (side note: this is very much not true in tone for Gerard's solo album, which is... kind of heavy considering the timeframe it was produced/released and toured for in) but with FOB death has always been this thing right there, in the midst of them. it's a present haunting. I think the difference really comes down to: MCR is fighting death. FOB is breaking up with it.
if dust takes off his hood and scarf then nobody can recognize him. he has literally no permanent traits that make him recognizable (which actually kinds upsets me because,,,,, there is no physical representation of his character development from sans to dust BUT EAAHHHH whatever,,, we cope with it.) but in like a silly goofy comedic way. it's like perry the playapus ans dr doofenshirmst (incorrect spelling but only by societies standards)
dust with hood down and no scarf
killer: a sans?
he puts on the scarf
horror: a GENOCIDE sans???
the hood goes up
killer: DUST SANS AKA MURDER SANS AKA DUSTTALE SANS FROM HIT AU DUSTTALE?????
horror's skull breaks a second time on the other side from sheer shock
for months i genuinely wholeheartedly could not tell the 911 guys apart and this is so important for me to stress bc throughout my life i have prided myself on being able to tell twins apart really easily and liking being that person to connect faces to other things ive watched or honestly just seen in passing like i could track down a random commercial actress and shit and i mean i suppose part of that is not knowing their characters and they just twin all the time but i apologize still im aware that mans last name is diaz and now i feel like im sitting here laid up @ all the tumblr lesbians like haha damn so thats buck x eddie? that said idk if im like happy i know any of this.
killer should know about dumb video game meta stuff ike i-frames and animation cancels and critting amd breaking out of bounds and use it to his advantage in fights. maybe he learned it from chara in something new as a silly little thing to try out because theyre already teaching him all this bullshit on killing so whos to say a video game character cant learn a player's cheats?? he's already interacted and collaborated with a player before i think its fair he knows tricks on how to cheat undertale's fighting system
everything's all fine and dandy in a fight against killer (no it isn't) until you see him glitching around and somehow phasing through your attacks. he looks ridiculous but it gets the job done
Besties it might be so fucking over. If we get Bride Sharena it's so fucking over. Like I cannot even express how bad it's gonna be for me specifically.
okay i am so intrigued but all!! but as an avid horror fan tell me about the horror novelist!!
Hello Rachel!
Sadly there isn't nearly as much horror that the description might suggest, but Carlos is an up and coming horror novelist who nannies in New York! He works for neurosurgeon Gregory Hughes and looks over his two gremlins turned angels, Lydia and Ryan.
One day Ryan, for some reason, has a cat in his backpack and the cat escapes and climbs up a tree in Central Park. After finding out the cat belongs to the son of a New York senator, Carlos realizes he has no choice but to get it. Alas, he gets STUCK; thank god there's a super hot fireman who can help him down :)
Here's a little snippet that I've shared before but I left out the funniest part so I'm sharing it again:
“Ryan, you’ve got one more chance before I fix this myself.”
“How?” Ryan squawks from the other end of the fountain, his dirty blond hair looking more chestnut than golden due to the water that’s drenched it. “You don’t know how to swim.”
Carlos’ eyes cut to his sister as she chuckles, his face reflecting that of brotherly frustration. Luisa rolls her eyes before saying, “Look, I already apologized for telling him you can’t swim, what more do you want from me?”
“I want you to not encourage it,” Carlos replies as he swings one leg over the lip of the fountain.
He turns towards the teenage girl who’s posed with her phone in hand, stood in a fashion that implies she’s recording. “And I want you, Lydia,” Carlos continues, waiting until Lydia makes it clear she’s heard him. “To stop filming me for Tic Tac.”
“It’s TikTok,” Lydia corrects, her overly glossed pink lips pursing in disgust. Her father has recently given her leeway to experiment with make-up as long as it doesn’t cost over ten dollars, isn’t red and doesn’t have a name like ‘Better than Sex’.
“Whatever,” Carlos argues, yelping when his bare foot makes contact with the cold fountain water. “I’m your nanny, not your content.”