#he must experience the horrors organically

[skyefeys]

playing ace attorney with a close friend - he knows my favorite character's name is franziska but that's all - and we had to pause during turnabout goodbyes before we both go home for break. now whenever we talk about the game together this is what my brain looks like

[transbookoftheday]

Trans Horror Podcasts

My post about trans horror books last year was much more popular than I expected, and since I've recently fallen in love with fiction podcasts and audio dramas, I thought I'd make a post about trans horror podcasts as well.

If you like trans horror, please give these a try - especially if you enjoy listening to audiobooks!

Hello From The Hallowoods:

Come walk between the black pines! In this award-winning queer fiction podcast, an eldritch narrator follows the increasingly connected residents of the forest at the end of the world. It's a bittersweet story that explores queer identity, horror genre tropes, and finding hope in humanity's last moments.

Hello From The Hallowoods is my absolute favorite podcast! If you only listen to one podcast from this list, please make it this one - it's so beautifully written and super queer! Also: season 4 starts today!

Trans main characters include:

our nonbinary eye-affiliated podcast host

a nonbinary "Frankenstein's creature"

a transmasc ghost

a genderfluid storm witch

a trans woman who can visit other people's dreams

multiple characters using neopronouns

Camp Here & There:

Good morning, campers! Camp Here & There is a weekly horror comedy podcast tuned in to the loudspeakers of a small midwestern sleepaway camp plagued by supernatural terrors and natural disasters. Sydney Sargent, resident camp nurse, cheerfully reports on all the terror we must face with a big smile. Let’s hope there’s nothing weird about that!

Sydney is a trans man.

Dos: After You:

Things have changed. Deck has fallen in love with someone who isn't human, and leaves a hungry house behind to see him again. Will he be waiting for you? The world has changed… but what about him? Dos: After You is a queer urban fantasy/horror audiodrama available in both English & Spanish

Deck is a trans man.

Jar of Rebuke:

Follow Dr. Jared Hel's journey as he works to re-discover his forgotten past and finds his place within the small Indiana farm town of Wichton and the cryptozoological organization he works for called 'The Enclosure'. These audio journals, and other recordings, dive deep into Midwestern US cryptids and folklore while also telling a mystery about identity, queerness, neurodivergence, and community.

Jared is nonbinary.

Spirit Box Radio:

Spirit Box Radio is an award winning, horror audio drama podcast about a radio show for enthusiasts of all things arcane. Follow Sam Enfield a former postboy with no experience in the arcane arts, who finds themselves forced to take over running the show, following the disappearance of the previous host. Sam soon discovers there are more than ghosts haunting the show, and finds himself amidst a mystery which threatens everything he knows about the world beyond his tiny basement broadcast studio, and maybe even himself.

Sam is a trans man.

The Silt Verses:

Carpenter and Faulkner, two worshippers of an outlawed god, travel up the length of their deity’s great black river, searching for holy revelations amongst the reeds and the wetlands. As their pilgrimage lengthens and the river’s mysteries deepen, the two acolytes find themselves under threat from a police manhunt, but also come into conflict with the weirder gods that have flourished in these forgotten rural territories. This is a world where divine intervention takes place through prayer-markings scratched into stumping-posts, and offerings are left squirming to die in the flats of the delta. This is a world of ritual, and hidden language, and sacrifice. This is folk horror, and fantasy, and a dark road trip into the depths of unusual faith.

Faulkner is a trans man.

The Magnus Protocol:

The Magnus Archives 2: The Magnus Protocol is the prequel/sequel/”sidequel” to the internationally renowned Magnus Archives podcast. The Magnus Institute was an organisation dedicated to academic research into the esoteric and the paranormal, based out of Manchester, England. It burned to the ground in 1999. There were no survivors. Now, almost 25 years later, Alice and Sam, a pair of low-level civil service workers at the underfunded Office of Incident Assessment and Response, have stumbled across its legacy. A legacy that will put them in grave danger. If this intrigues you then it is our pleasure to welcome you to the Office of Incident, Assessment and Response. Make sure you pick up your badge at desk and report to your line manager before sitting down. Oh and stay away from I.T., seriously.

I'm not sure if Alice is canonically trans, but her voice actress is a trans woman.

[thechekhov]

Chekhov Reads Dungeon Meshi: CH47

I would like to thank Ryoko Kui for this.

I really love how, despite being antagonistic with Chilchuck, Izutsumi seems to like Marcille and him the best out of all the rest.

You know they're Japanese pancakes with that amount of air padding them out.... 😂

You know, it's interesting because if I remember correctly, taste is the oldest sense we have. Basic organisms surviving in water needed to be able to taste the environment in order to allow it to move away from acidic water, or dangerous environments. So it's curious that their taste is no longer working while their other senses remain.

....sounds like it was maybe less of the...power.... and maybe more of the fact that his old childhood friend was growing old?

....... y'know. Just suggesting...

To fight a trainer with a powerful pokemon, you must first capture a powerful pokemon yourself.

AIEEEEE~

I was JUST about to say "man, this kid seems to be a genuinely good leader! His people don't fear him and he has a good head on his shoulders. I sure hope nothing bad happens to him!"

And here we are.

Oooooh a forest? Or one of those water places.

Update: One of those water places. A cistern.

Her charm wore off! And now she can experience unspeakable horrors of being known in a vulnerable state.

Someone get this poor man some google maps.

Laios, why do you look.... less than thrilled with this information?

Oh, his Fixation Sense is tingling, that's why.

Oh? Rare Senshi moment of stubbornness?

Mayhaps even.... A BACKSTORY?

When the party is in Analysis Paralysis and the DM says 'roll initiative'

Marcille is taking this Crazy Future Girlfriend thing to all new highs.

Is he afraid of birds? Or lions? Or both? What is happening here? It makes no sense. It would be delicious! Senshi, stop that's like 60 kg of chicken wings, easy!

BONUS:

Here's the thing. They aren't like, twins necessarily. But I do think that Falin, while she's just as weird as Laios is, makes herself approachable to people. She cares about ghosts as beings, instead of seeing them only as a scientific anomaly.

But other than that.... honestly I feel like Toshi wouldn't fall in love with a female Laios either.

Marcille and Falin being MORE likely to go out to the dungeon as women makes sense somehow. Though I am amused at how femme-leaning all elves are naturally.

I think these gender twists are all pretty surface level but given that it's a conversation the party has in real time... I get it.

[raz-writes-the-thing]

Unbidden (Doctor Who One-Shot)

Dark!Tenth Doctor x GN!Reader 18+ (no smut) / requests are open

Summary: The Doctor's gone too far this time.

Fic type: thriller/horror- please note there are descriptions of gore, violence and dark shit. no smut. I mean it, this is dark. Please heed the warnings.

DW: @nyxiethesimp @quickslvxrr @midnight--raine @blueberry-sunshines @stevekempscocktails @go-bonkers-go-foolish @peytonpenguin37 @yeethaw13 @complimentary-breadbasket @thekirbishow @stilestotherescue @madspads @catlynharper@merrilark @jaziona92 @yeehawbrothers @mochabonesblog @iguirisu  (send an ask to be added to a tag list!)

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You’re in shock. You must be. There’s no other explanation for the way you’re shrieking and laughing and crying all at the same time. You can’t even hear the noises coming out of your mouth- you’re just… distantly aware of the burn in your throat and the tears streaking through the grime and the muck and the blood on your cheeks. 

It’s spotty. All over. All over you, all over him, all over the ground and the walls. Red, crimson Dalmatian patterns that in almost any other situation would look like a pretty art piece. It still was, you supposed. 

And it was like he hadn’t even noticed your reaction, bringing the blade down over and over and over and over into the now corpses’ chest, blood splattering everywhere with every single movement he made. Each time the blade came down felt like a physical blow to your chest. Bang. Bang. Bang. 

Gods, he must be twenty stabs in by now, there’s nothing left but a big gaping cavity that reminds you of something you’d see in a cheesy zombie movie where his ribcage and upper organs used to be. But this isn’t a two-bit movie full of laughs and cheap effects. This is real. You can smell it. You can smell the gore, the iron, the horror. You can fucking smell it. You didn’t realise stuff like this would smell. 

It feels like an out-of-body experience as you tear your eyes away to look down at your hands. They’re shaking uncontrollably, and as he rips the blade out of the corpse again, another splatter of blood appears over your fingers along with a chunk of organ that could be anything from heart to lungs to a kidney. You can feel your eyes bulging. You still can’t hear anything. Not even a ringing in your ears or a bassy vibration. Not even the jack-rabbit pump of your heartbeat.

 

There’s just… nothing. You can’t hear anything right now.

 

Distantly, you’re aware of the Doctor slowing down and eventually coming to a halt, giving the corpse that had been a person some fucking semblance of peace, finally. Your gaze filters unbidden through your outstretched fingers to find him watching you, something dark and ravenous in his eyes that scares the absolute fucking shit out of you. 

You stumble back and away from him when he makes a sudden move, blade dropping to the ground in a sticky clatter. He’s covered in blood. Head to fucking toe. His white button-up under his pretty suit is unsalvageable. It’s almost black with blood, and it sticks to him in a way that you shouldn’t be paying attention to right now. You’re pretty sure it might be your brain trying to focus on literally anything else but the reverse Pollock on the ground in front of you. 

The Doctor is up and cornering you in seconds. You barely have a second to register it before you’re stumbling backwards and he’s pressing you into the wall. Your hearing comes back with painful clarity all at once, and the Doctor’s voice suddenly has sound to go with the movement of his lips. 

“See what I do for you, love? Oh yes, all for you. You’re mine, darling, I won’t let anyone hurt you.” 

You don’t mention how for a moment there you genuinely thought he was going to gut you, too. He’d probably like the sight of your organs slipping through your fingers, actually. He’d probably find it hot, and beat off over y- no, stop it. 

He wouldn’t hurt you… right? 

You circled his neck with your arms, feeling the drops of blood seep into your sweater and cling to your skin. He was still murmuring sweet nothings into your ear, and if you were elsewhere, you might actually find them comforting.

But all you managed to let sink in as your eyes watched the blood pool larger and larger around the body on the floor was that you were his. 

And he would never, ever- let you go.

[silaswritesthings]

heyy im asking again for scara x yandere reader *bats my eyelashes at you*

could you do one inspired by "The Dismemberment Song" by Blue Kid😻😻

Summary: On Scaramouche’s pathway toward godhood, you worked in the shadows cast by his glory. You were an assistant of Il Dottore but a crucial one especially after you were granted the opportunity to work with the rising god for two weeks during his divine preparations. Too bad the God in question had no ounce of gratefulness , or anything at all, to spare for you and so you worked through your bitterness and guilt for having the harbinger be so vulnerable in your hands.

Starring: Wanderer/Scaramouche

Genre: Yandere, horror

Warnings: dismemberment, reader is not stable, experiment , dottore (yeah he needs a fucking trigger warning)

Author’s note: I really tried to make it come out and I accidentally made a part two 🧍‍♀️ so there’s that. I’ll probably post it in a fee days because i’m away from home rn and my wifi is shitty. I hope you enjoy the read and I hope this is at least similar to what you were hoping for! Enjoy <3

Word count: 859

“I owe you the utmost gratitude for your expert execution of my research. I would not expect anything less from my most capable student.” The Doctor’s words to you were eloquent and purposeful as you walked together through the dim hallway. Fluorescent runway lights glared down at you, and your hair cast shadows onto your face.

Your shoulders were tense from two things: The first, the remnants of snow on your coat from the snezhnayan winter outside and the second being your anticipation for Dottore’s next words.

“Your hard work rewarded us with success,” he said. “Scaramouche responded very well to the treatment and we have reached a very big milestone in my research.”

Your gaze lowered at these words. You could not say you were disappointed but at the same time you were not delighted, not when you were returning back to the same laboratory without the ability to reign power over The balladeer that you had previously for two weeks.

The days you spent alone with him were more aggravating than Scaramouche himself. The constant hum of the machinery connected to the harbinger throughout did nothing to help preserve your fragile sanity. Instead what kept you together was your handling of the harbinger’s puppet limbs and connecting them to various cords filled with a dark purple liquid that Dottore refused to dive deeper into when you inquired about it’s composition.

Who cares though? Scaramouche was never kind to you, he would not spare you a single glance, not even a spiteful comment no matter how much you tried to force a reaction from him.

Even then, under your mercy, he did not react. He neither reacted when you chained him to the table as you explained the steps in the procedure nor did he react when he watched you inject his body with a chemical that would shut off his consciousness.

However, your disappointment faded to bliss when you reached the most anticipated part of the two week procedure: the separation.

His skin was soft, his body lithe but cold. He reminded you of a corpse and this comparison made it easy for you to handle his body parts like scientific instruments. The ball joints were perfectly rounded and you thought; the electro archon must have been a genius for being able to create such an advanced being. On the third day of monitoring his body parts, you had enough courage to trace your fingers over his bodiless hand.

He was in pieces.

Even though his limbs were seperated but he didn’t bleed. He had no organs like any human you’ve seen and dissected, he was something different. A puppet: that’s what the doctor would call him but but the term never left your lips in fear of dehumanizing the one person who reminded your heart to beat. By the fifth day you had been comfortable enough to confide in a detached head about your grievances:

“You make me suffer without doing anything.” You said as you noted down a few things. “Sometimes I wish to be on the receiving ends of your cruelity because it’s something.” You turned to face his head, his eyes closed as expected and he remained expressionless. It was easier to appreciate his beauty like this, you thought. “But you give me nothing and I hate it.”

He was in pieces.

His demise was supposed to uplift you and give you a moment of victory, but it filled you with dispair. Scaramouche, even in his vulnerable state and in his demise, was able to make you feel more human than you ever had… because there was not a single day of that fortnight you went through without battling a mix of intense joy and despair.

He was in pieces… and only you could put him back together.

Dottore kept his gaze ahead of him in the face of your obvious silence.

“You do not seem delighted,” he began, “Does the survival of my test subject displease you? I have noticed your ongoing feud with him, so that would not be peculiar in this case.”

“I’m satisfied with our success.” You noticed you were nearing the laboratory. “Is the harbinger conscious?” You asked, feigning disinterest to whatever answer he would give but you hung onto his every intake of breath, you would not miss a single word.

Seeing Scaramouche in that state did feel unnatural. His lashes brushed against his pale cheekbones. His soft hair sometimes rising on its own because of the electrical currents he was exposed to throughout the entire procedure. A head without a body.

He was in pieces and you were glad that you put him back together in the end.

“Why would he be unconscious when he was conscious the entire time, hm?”

How you wished you could tear him apart again.

Your guilt bubbled over into anger the moment you registered his words and this was as soon as you entered the laboratory. Scaramouche’s eyes met yours, his expression smug and egocentric.

He tilted his head to the side in mockery. “What’s with the long face?”

[turbulentscrawl]

Reminders of the Horror (Norton & Edgar)

warnings: character death (you), descriptions of heavy gore (I mean it. the Norton one is p bad), angst, lots of blood and pain

Your ears are ringing.

There’s not really any reason for them to be. All things considered, the wall coming down wasn’t that loud, and neither was your screaming. But your ears are ringing like you think Norton’s must have during that horrible event so much like this moment. Aside from the volume, everything is exactly as he’d described it on those late, sleepless nights. The dust, the dark, the agonized cries. (Yours.) Somewhere in your scrambled mind, you’re sure Norton sees the ghosts of his spiteful coworkers littered about him, but it’s just you there, trapped under the rubble of the asylum’s collapsed walls. You’ve seen single portions of wall collapse at the church, but never anything like this. Fools Gold had somehow managed to bring down an entire section of the sprawling building. Right on top of you.

You’re wailing and screaming for Norton, and he’s just sitting there, mere feet from you, paralyzed. His face looks like a dead man’s.

“Norton!” you scream, almost incomprehensible. His name leaves your lips along with all the air in your lungs, the rubble crushing everything out of you. You’d never dared to imagine what this kind of death felt like. Never wanted to experience the horror of it. And the pain is beyond words. Every cell in your body screams wrong, wrong, pain!

The rubble continues to settle, shift, and somehow it all gets worse. Your bones give like fragile chalk. Your abdomen shifts, squeezed from the bottom-up like a tube of toothpaste. When you open your mouth again, blood and bile gush forward, followed by a bulge of something horrifically organ-like that chokes your airways. You claw a desperate hand towards Norton, and he reacts only by numbly pushing himself away.

His back hits the far wall, still staring with unfocused eyes, and through the window above him you spot Fools Gold amble into frame. He’s grinning, albeit tightly.

“Don’t mind him,” the Worse Norton says, stepping through the window. Stepping on Norton like he’s an insect. Stepping right into the pool of your liquified viscera. “Sorry, babe, you know I wasn’t aiming for you. Just trying to give that one a hard time. That sure looks rough, though. Let me help you out real quick.”

You’re crying, but there’s no air to sob. Only bloody, salty tears as your feel yourself about to burst from the mouth. Fools Gold raises his pickaxe—perhaps the one mercy he’s still capable of giving—and brings the heavy point down on your head.

There’s so much blood. Your blood. It’s unnerving despite Edgar’s assurances that it’s good.

From your position, though, it’s hard to see how this is good. Only you two are left in this match against the triplets, and you’re only meters from the exit gate death’s door with a porcupine’s worth of metal thorns lodged in your body. The wrecked wedding venue does not help the mood, and freedom being so close by is but a taunt. You have a win at hand, if only Edgar would flee. Edgar, though, is determined to drag your mangled figure out with him no matter how much it cost.

And it was costing a lot of hurt. The spiks caught in the dirt, in the cobblestone, and pulled on your flesh and muscle, poking and swirling around inside your bruises.

“Go,” you gasp, hiccupping in pain. If he’d go, secure the win, you could die faster too. The pain would stop faster. “Go, Edg—go. I won’t…last. Go.”

“You need to tough it out,” he says through gasps of strained effort. His soft face is twisted with determination. He is not a strong man to begin with, and the added weight of the spikes is only making this harder for him. His skin and hair are dripping with blood, sweat, and mud. “I told you I can do this. Just deal with it a little longer.” In the not-so-far distance, you hear the familiar metal and cloth of the triplets shifting out of their dreaded Breaking Wheel.

“Ed,” you sob, crying dirty tears. Everything is blurry, indistinct. A bubble of blood comes up with your next scream of pain, “Go!”

“I am not afraid of death,” Edgar snaps at you. “Least of all for a situation like this.” Suddenly, he drops you and his hands are all over your body, your wounds, on the ground. Touching until his fingers and palms are running with rivulets of your blood. Then he starts smattering it about his last blank canvas with a desperate speed you’ve never seen utilized for his creations. A mania-like joy overtakes his eyes as he smacks, pokes, and smears your blood into something to distract the Hunter.

“It’s perfect,” you hear him say. When he grabs you up again, you jolt with a scream and realize, foggily, that you blacked out during his creative process. And will black out again, despite the pain’s best efforts to keep you conscious. Edgar starts dragging you again, somehow, miraculously making it to the door. When you look up, you see the triplets there, looking over a propped painting in the aisle. They’re shaking, then howling. With rage.

They grab the canvas and launch it in a tantrum towards your now-immune forms stepping over the invisible line. It clatters in front of your fading eyes, allowing you to see, barely, the butchered forms of the triples painted in your blood. A daring threat from the painter holding you to his chest as you’re swept back to the manor, where you can die and rebirth in peace.

[dilfartist]

Jojo’s reaction to Insecure Chubby reader saying “I’m not pretty.”

A/n: I think some of these characters are ooc. Especially Giorno. Anyway enjoy!

Jonathan joestar

You weren’t very confident when it came to your appearance. How could you be when everyone around you teased you for your weight. You didn’t fit London’s beauty standards; people would remind you of this constantly. The last time you confessed to a man, he laughed in your face and insulted your image. It wounded your self-confidence greatly. You’ve stopped trying to find someone to love you: you’re too scared you’ll be bombarded with taunts again. You've given up on love entirely.

Your friends, on the other hand, tried desperately to find you a man. They were already married and felt that you were lonely without a partner. During your weekly hangouts, they mentioned a ball hosted at the Joestar mansion. They suggested you accompany them to the party to find a partner. Though you had no desire to go to the ball, They managed to convince you to come with promises of fun.

They took you out to shops to purchase a dress for the night. They lent you the money needed to buy a gown. Each dress you tried on only seemed to fill you with insecurity. It wasn't the gowns you had chosen, no, they were beautiful. The only imperfection you saw in the mirror was yourself. Looking around, you could hear the giggles and feel judging glances from the other women in the store. Were they laughing at you? Did you look that bad? Nevertheless, your friends managed to persuade you to buy the dress.

The night of the ball, you attempted to keep a low profile by standing In the corner of the ballroom. You dismissed your friends chastising about standing in the corner. You already knew no one wanted to dance with you, so why try? Halfway through the party, you found a comfortable chair near a window and sat down, admiring the Joestar gardens.

Suddenly your attention is caught by the sound of a group of women calling out to someone. They are greeting a man named Jojo. Wait, Jojo? Oh, one of the sons of the man who organized the ball. Jonathan Joestar. You watched as the women surrounded Jonathan, complimenting him and giving him all their attention, making many men angry. Jonathan was very popular among the ladies: you've heard women gushing over him countless times. You understood the hype. Jonathan was not only a very handsome man but a gentleman at heart.

Classical music began to play, interrupting the women. The women around Jonathan attempted to dance with him, but other men whisked them away before they could ask. You turned to appreciate the garden once again. However, you had the abrupt urge to turn to look at Jonathan again. Your eyes widen. Jonathan is looking at you with a smile, one of your friends is beside him pointing at you and whispering. You watch in horror as Jonathan inches closer to you with each stride he takes.

“Excuse me, Milady, would you care for a dance?”

You've lost your voice resulting in you nodding in response. For once, you feel eyes on you because of jealousy. Dancing with Jonathan is an experience, yet you find yourself becoming upset. Jonathan catches the change in your mood, “what's the matter, are you not enjoying yourself?” he asks softly. “No, I'm enjoying myself,” you reply, “It's just, well, I don't want you to force yourself to dance because you pity me.”

Jonathan gives you a look of utter confusion. “Pity? Why would I be pitying you?”

You glanced at the ground, “I'm not...as pretty as the other women attending. They all have slimmer figures than I do. Which is the reason no man had asked me to dance. You must have felt terrible for me.”

“Nonsense, who would fill your head with such lies?! You are one of the most beautiful women I've ever laid eyes on.”

Jonathan’s voice was soft, yet you could still hear the anger in his tone. You felt flustered. Jonathan was genuinely angered by the fact anyone would make you believe you weren't attractive.

You felt flustered. Jonathan was genuinely angered by the fact anyone would make you think you weren't beautiful. After the dance was over, Jonathan took you into the garden where you spent the rest of the party getting to know each other.

Joseph Joestar

Lisa Lisa let both the maids and her students have a day off. With both groups working so hard, Lisa Lisa thought it was only fair to let them have their fun. After all, today’s sun was unbearable. Even with the air conditioning on, you would still have sweat dripping off you like a popsicle melting. Caesar drove Lisa Lisa, Joseph, You, and Suzi Q to the beach for a day of relaxation.

Lisa Lisa found a less crowded spot near the ocean and right where the sun shined brightly. Joseph and Ceasar fought because Joseph thought it was funny to push caesar into the ocean while Caesar flirted with a couple of women. Lisa Lisa tanned, read a magazine, and drank red wine. That left you and Suzi Q.

Suzi Q looked away giggling from the boys fighting, “Even when we have a break, they still have time to fight.” She turned to you then paused, “Something wrong, Y/n?” She followed your eyes to Joseph eyeing a group of women in their bathing suits with a pervy smirk. You quietly mumbled to yourself “I wish Joseph looked at me like that. I don't even think he thinks I'm pretty.” you’ve had a crush on Joseph for a long time, yet you've never really seemed to interest him: well that's what you believed. Today you wore your maid outfit instead of a swimming suit because you hadn't had time to buy one. Suzi Q placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder, “He does, you just never catch him.” you let out a heavy sigh as a reply, “it seems to me, he's only into skinny women.”

Suzi Q desperately wanted to make you feel better. She looked around for anything to up your spirit, there she spotted a clothing shop. She smiled and tapped your shoulder, “Why don't we visit that shop over there, hm? I’m sure Joseph will be checking you out if you buy a swimsuit.” you thought about it for a minute, then looked back at Joseph talking with the girls, “let's do it!”

You excitedly enter the shop with Suzi Q. Immediately, Suzi Q rummages through beautiful racks of expensive swimsuits. She's going on about how pretty you’ll look in all of the swimsuits she picks. Meanwhile, you focused on the feeling of eyes on your back. You notice a group of women looking at you with disgusted faces. You were used to this by now, especially with all women's tv programs telling their viewers that plus-sized/chubby women would never find a husband, unlike skinny women. You made a face back and looked through swimwear with Suzi.

You found the cutest swimsuit/bikini/ burkini/swimwear and went to try it on in the dressing rooms. When you got it on your body, you instantly hated it. You felt so unconfident wearing it. Instead of continuing to shop for more, you bought the one you already chose not wanting to waste any more time on your day off.

When the two of you arrived back at the beach, you hid behind a near bar. You didn't want to be seen by Joseph. You watched from afar as Joseph and Caesar competed in volleyball competition. You take your eyes off them for a minute to order a nonalcoholic drink, you look back up and are confused.

“Let me guess what your thinking! “Wait a minute, where did Joseph go?” well I'm right here.” Joseph grins and flexes his muscles at the end of his sentence.

“Joseph.” you smile, “what are you doing over here?” Joseph smirks, “y’know I could ask the same, y/n. Today is a day when we are supposed to be spending time together. Why don’t you join me in the water before the sun sets?” you Instinctively pull at the towel hiding your body, “I would it's just...I’m not pretty in what I bought.”

Joseph’s smirk drops, “really? I think you’re too hard on yourself. Show me and I'll be the judge.” you reluctantly pull the towel off, presenting your swimwear and body to him. Joseph’s smirk returns. Joseph places a hand on his chin, “I don't understand how you find yourself unattractive, I'm extremely aroused by your looks, babe! I'm surprised you haven't caught me checking you out on other occasions.”

Joseph walked away leaving you stunned. He turned his head towards you before he was out of your vision, “Come on, let's play a game of volleyball! Whoever wins gets to decide where our first date will be.”

Jotaro Kujo

You’ve always had a crush on Jotaro Kujo. Ever since the trip to Egypt and getting to know Jotaro. You would never make it known to Jotaro. You were sure the last thing Jotaro wanted was his friend, who’s a girl, to have a crush on him after dealing with all the women who harassed him. Maybe he just wanted one woman to feel only platonic feelings for him. It had become hard for you during college since Jotaro offered you to stay with him in an apartment off campus.

You hoped by staying as far away from Jotaro as you could, you wouldn't let your feelings slip. To get away from Jotaro, you either went to the library or hung out with friends. On one particular day, you needed to study for an important upcoming test, so you went to the library.

While you studied, you were interrupted by a group of girls loudly whispering. Getting a glimpse of the group, you already knew these girls. They were the ones who followed Jotaro around. You hated them. You rolled your eyes and tried to get back to studying. The moment they mention Jotaro in their conversation, they caught your interest.

“You know what I overheard Jotaro saying?” one of the girls said, turning to the next page of her magazine. The other girls look at her with curiosity. “I heard Jotaro has a type!” the girls around started excitingly asking questions. “Apparently, His type is thin women or that's what I've heard. He isn't attracted to women with plump figures.”

You quietly scoff. You knew Jotaro didn't say that, she probably made it up. However, you couldn't stop the feeling of your growing sadness. Could it be true? Most men did prefer women with a slimmer body, did that include Jotaro as well? You close your library book and went to leave. You were surprised to see Jotaro waiting for you by a bookcase, watching you closely. Jotaro gestures for you to follow him.

You follow Jotaro out of the Library doors and into his car. “Why’d you come to the library?” you asked fastening your seatbelt. Jotaro starts his car by twisting the keys into the ignition, “I was picking up some take out for dinner and decided to pick you up as well. I don't want you walking home when it starts getting dark.” you thank him and the car ride home was silent.

For the ongoing days, you’d been gloomy. The thoughts of Jotaro simply not loving you because of your looks hurt you.

It was nighttime, and as usual, you were studying with the occasional breaks. This was your last break before finishing reviewing completely. You left your room and chose to unwind on the balcony for some fresh air.

You open the glass door that leads to the balcony, then walk over to the handrail. The atmosphere surrounding you is warm. It isn't too cold but it‘s not hot either. You enjoy the night sky filled with millions of shining stars and one full moon. The scenery is lovely. “Thought I'd find you out here.” a deep voice mumbles. Jotaro stands next to you, leaning against the handrail. The two of you stare at the sky, not saying a word. The silence is interrupted by Jotaro, “What's on your mind? You are not yourself.” the words are spoken in a gruff tone; many people would assume he was annoyed but being beside Jotaro for so long you knew this was his way of voicing his worry.

You realized if you dismissed his concerns it would lead you nowhere, so you needed to tell him or he wouldn't leave it alone. You sigh, pondering on ways to tell him how you felt. “You’ll think it's silly.” Jotaro turns to face you, his eyes scanning your expression, “I won't. Tell me.”

You figure you might as well tell him about everything you've kept hidden. If he's asking now and given you the perfect opportunity. You nervously start to talk, “Well, I've liked you for a long time Jotaro. I haven't told you because you might just want me to be a friend to you and I'm too scared of rejection. I’m not pretty because of my body and I don't think I have anything to offer to you. I thought if I just stayed away from you, hid my how I truly felt, my feelings would fade away fast. They haven't.” you couldn't look Jotaro in the eyes, looking anywhere else, afraid of his reaction.

A silence followed after your confession. You bit your lip cursing yourself, regretting your decision quickly.

“Y/n, look at me.” Jotaro softly spoke, convincing you to do as he instructed. Jotaro’s expression is soft and accompanied by a warm, rare smile. “Don't think that about yourself...” he pauses. He isn't a man of words, but he knew you needed solace. He just didn't know what he could say. “You look good to me, and that's all that matters because I...like you as well.”

That went better than you expected.

Josuke Higashikata

Today was Valentine’s day or more known as White day. A day when individuals either celebrated their love for their partner/s or confessed their feelings. You weren't too exhilarated about the day. Usually, on Valentine’s, you would observe as other girls have boys confess their love to them and give them gifts as an appreciation for what they received on Valentine's Day. You never really had the experience. You participated a couple of times, however, the boys never gave you anything in return, or they’d unhappily looked at you. You never really understood why boys didn't like you. You blamed it on many of your qualities, but you greatly inculpated your physique. You acknowledged the fact boys usually went for the skinny girls; It made you loathe your semblance.

As usual, you walked by a crowd of couples while dismissing the heartache you felt. It was the end of the school day, so you went to place your school shoes in your locker. You reached your locker, put in the lock code, then swung open the locker door. To your stupefaction, there was a pink note inside. Your heartbeat begins to increase. You slowly reach into the locker and pull out the pink piece of paper.

𝙿𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚌𝚑𝚘𝚘𝚕 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚕𝚕 𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜. 𝙸 𝚑𝚘𝚙𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 ❤︎︎

Your cheeks flush. Was this real?! On cue, the bell rang to release all of the students in the building. You jump slightly. Curious about the person behind the note and the opportunity of hopefully finding a boyfriend, you left to the back of the building. With each step that made you closer to your destination, your mind raced with thoughts of who your admire could be. A goofy smile was plastered on your face when you arrived at the spot.

You examined the sight surrounding you. You stood where many dumped the school trash. The horrendous smell of trash was covered by the fragrance from the cherry trees encircling the area, making it tolerable to stand and wait. It wasn't the most romantic place, but you could care less. You waited a couple of minutes until you heard someone from behind you awkwardly clear their throat.

Behind you stood Josuke Higashikata, the most popular boy in your school. Seeing Josuke, you instantly apologized, “Oh, I'm sorry, Higashikata. I was told to meet someone here. If you want, I can move out of your way if you’re meeting someone too.” Josuke’s lips formed into a nervous smile, his cheeks flushing, one of his hands rubbing the back of his neck, “Well, here I am.”

Josuke Higashikata, the boy who can have any girl he wants, the most handsome boy in the school, the hot delinquent that will beat the shit out of anyone who dares to mock his hairdo, the boy with a heart of gold, the boy you’ve been crushing on for a year; is the one who asked you to meet him at the back of the school. You can't even express your joy. Your cheeks are hot, your knees are wobbly, your heart is pounding in your chest, and you feel butterflies in your stomach. Josuke Higashkata likes you!?

Josuke bites his lip. You’re just blankly staring at him. Did you not like him? Were you unimpressed that he was the one who showed up? Were all those hours of practicing in the mirror, for this moment and what leads after, for nothing? Josuke nervously fumbles with something in his pocket, “I brought you something.” he places a baggie in the palm of your hands. You open the baggie taking out many lollipops: all are your favorite flavor. “Thanks...” you reply shyly. Josuke smiles, finally a positive response! “Do you know what the lollipops mean?”

Oh, right! There are different meanings to the candies given. You've forgotten which candies mean which.

You smile sheepishly, “I'm sorry, I've forgotten.” Josuke gives a reassuring smile, “that's alright! You’re a foreigner after all. Marshmallows mean I dislike you, Cookies mean let's Remain friends, and Hard candies mean I like you.”

“You like me?” you blurt out in astonishment. It was obvious from the start but hearing the words leaving Josuke’s lips was eye-opening.

“I mean, yeah! I've actually liked you for a long time and- why are you crying? Are you okay?”

You didn't notice the tears falling down your cheeks till Josuke pointed it out. You continue to cry, hiding your face with your hands in embarrassment. Josuke started to apologize for making you cry, confused about what he did to cause this to occur. “It's not your fault Josuke.” you sniffle, wiping away your remaining tears. “I'm not used to anyone liking me. Let alone someone I've also liked for a long time. I’m not very pretty because of my weight-.”

Josuke cut you off before you could add on to your sentence, “Not pretty? What are you talking about? You're gorgeous! Plus, I'm more of a fan of chubby girls than skinny girls. If you ask me, you look cute!”

Josuke finds a napkin in one of his pockets, “here, use this. I keep a napkin for Okuyasu since he cries a lot. I swear he gets snot everywhere.” you both giggle.

In the end, you and Josuke go on a date. The date was perfect, you loved every second of it. On the way back to your home, Josuke and you planned the next date. Hopefully, you’d eventually become a couple. (spoiler: you do!)

Giorno Giovanna

The house phone rings, echoing throughout your home. You sigh; you had just sat down and now the phone rings. You lazily arise from the couch leisurely walking to the kitchen. You pick the phone up, placing it to your ear, “Hello?” you answer in an annoyed tone. The person on the other side of the line speaks almost immediately, “Hello, Y/n. I hope I'm not disturbing you.” Your attitude vanishes, replaced by a small smile. “No, not at all Giorno! I'm always happy to speak with you. It’s just that today hasn't been the best for me.”

“I’m sorry to hear. I was going to invite you over for dinner but it seems like you’d like to be left alone.” Dinner? With Giorno? “No, I’d love to come over! I don't think there is anything in my fridge anyway.” you open your fridge, confirming your suspicion. “Great! I’ll send a trusted friend to pick you up.” You can sense a smile on his face implied by the way he spoke.

Knowing Giorno he’d bring you to one of the fanciest restaurants in Italy. You searched through your closet for anything fancy for you to wear. During your hunt, you caught sight of a golden box In the back. You drag the box out and place it on your lap. Oh yeah, this was the box you found on your doorstep a couple of days ago. You had been too tired to open the box and stuffed it in the closet. Inside the box was a (dress/suit) in your favorite color; you recognized it from a window display you may have stared at for too long. You excitedly dressed till you were happy with your look.

After getting ready for the night, you step outside your home only to be greeted by the sight of an expensive limo in front of your house. The limousine’s front window rolls down and out pops a tan man dressed in a chauffeur outfit. “Yo, are you y/n?” you nod, “I'm Mista, m ‘here to pick ya up.” Mista exits the vehicle and opens the back door for you. You thank him and enter. During the drive to the restaurant, Mista made you comfortable enough to engage in small talk. The car ride wasn't awkward as you thought it would be. You couldn't stop laughing on the way to the restaurant because of Mista.

Mista pulls up to the entrance, bidding you goodbye with the tip of his hat. The car door next to you opens suddenly. “I’m so glad you could join me, y/n.” Giorno greets with a kind smile. Giorno is wearing a snow-white suit with golden ladybug pins, his hair is down instead of being braided as usual. He looked very handsome.

Giorno grabs your hand and leads you to the back of the restaurant. You were confused, why weren't you and Giorno sitting with the rest of the restaurant? “I pulled a few strings which earned us a private table.” Giorno must have caught onto your confusion with such a fast reply.

The scene in front of you was lovely. A small circle table, dressed with a red tablecloth, a candle burns in the center creating a candlelight dinner. Four candles surround the table adding light to the darkness. The smell of the briny ocean is delightful; you could never get tired of it. “I didn't know you were taking me on a date, Giorno. I thought we were going out to catch up.” you teased.

Giorno pulls out your chair like a gentleman, “We could always turn this into a date if that's what you’d like.” You feel a blush creeping onto your cheeks. Giorno was never one to flirt, so what changed? “I wouldn't mind going on a date with you, Giorno. I’m sure you've had enough experience with other girls to make a date perfect.” It had officially become a date.

The date was near its end. You and Giorno were finishing up the night talking about each other's feelings. Who liked who first, what made you realize your feelings, thoughts on each other, etc.

“I’m surprised you actually like me, Giorno. I'm not used to anyone liking me,” you say twirling pasta onto your fork and then taking a bite. Giorno raises a brow, “what makes you think I'm the only one to have a crush on you?” You didn't see the need to lie to Giorno, so you told him the truth, “I, and many others, don't consider myself pretty. They only care for my looks, you on the other hand like me for my personality.”

Giorno’s natural expression turns into one of sympathy. Giorno reaches for your hand and stares deep into your eyes, “You’re beautiful in every way. You are attractive, trust me, I wouldn't lie to you.”

(I don't know how to end this one. The end.)

Jolyne Kujo

You’ve been Jolyne’s cellmate for a total of eight months. The both of you are close friends, even if you had a rough start. In the beginning, Jolyne was rude to you. You understood her reason for acting such a way; this was a prison. The majority of women here were not to be trusted. Since you were new, you were a target. A group of prisoners ganged up on you, harassing you for money. When you explained to them you had no money on you, they became violent. Before they could land a punch on you, Jolyne came to your rescue. She beat the group bloody till she was satisfied. Jolyne started to teach you what you needed to know In prison, commencing a friendship.

Right about now it's lights out. You’re bored in bed. You want to ask Jolyne if she's awake but you don't want to disturb her. You figure you might as well go to sleep- “Y/n, you up?” a familiar voice whispers. Nevermind. “Yeah,” you reply in a whisper as well. “Do you mind if I complain to you? You’re the only one I really trust to talk with.” You felt pride in the fact she trusted you. You climb out of bed and up the bunk bed ladder. “Sure, I don't mind.” Jolyne shifts to a sitting position creating more room for you.

She starts to vent about her father, and how he was never there for her growing up. Then the conversation changes. She speaks of the growing stress she feels building up every day. You listen until she's done with her rant. She appears happier getting her feelings off her chest. She smiles at you, “thanks for listening, Y/n. Before we go to bed or whatever, I have a question.” “what is it?” “What's on your mind? I know something is wrong.”

What's on your mind?

Recently you've felt insecure about your semblance. You overheard a couple of other inmates speaking about you. It wasn't hard to tell they spoke of you. They described every feature of you while spewing insults. If you thought them making fun of your features was hurtful, you wouldn't want to hear them speaking of your body.

You look down at you'd nails. A sigh escapes your lips, “It’s nothing Jolyne.” Jolyne frowns, “Y/n, you obviously have something important on your mind. Go ahead and tell me.”

You couldn't deny Jolyne with those puppy eyes she gave. “I overheard some girls making fun of my weight. I already know I'm not pretty, they didn't need to rudely remind me.”

Jolyne comes closer to you, “don’t say that! You’re hot as hell y/n! Those girls are just assholes.“

Your face heats up, “You’re too sweet, Jolyne.” you grin. “What I'm serious!” she pouts. “Matter of fact, why don't you describe them so I can have a chat with them.

[inbarfink]

I mean, the thing that’s really amazing to me about the Rocky Horror Cult Phenomena is how much it fits with the themes of RHS. Like, Rocky Horror becoming The Midnight Movie and gaining this huge culture of callbacks and cosplay around it wasn’t like something anyone planned for or anything like that - it was a super-unexpected and strage and organically-grown thing and it just amazing how well it resonates with the movie itself. So many movies gain Fandoms that are kinda at Odds with What the Movie is Actually, so it’s really incredible that even with the Rocky Horror Fandom being what it is, it’s also so in-sync with the movie it’s based around in a strange way. 

Like, if you actually wanna think seriously about RHS, there are few major lenses of interpetation you can view it through: as a 70′s-style mockery of the 50′s, as a narrative about both the anxiety and thrill that comes with the changing times, as a Garden of Eden allegory starring a weird Reverse-God whose gospel is debauchery... but I think one of the biggest ones for me is how it is obviously a tribute to the experience of watching horror and sci-fi movies late at night - and the way these movies, however silly, can offer a sort of getaway from the restrictive, repressive environment of your everyday life. 

Like that is kinda what “Science Fiction/Double Feature” is literally about?

It’s about how much the speaker wants to watch a late-night screenings of science fiction\horror movies. And the verses are peppered with all of these vaugely sexual innuendos, it’s clear that this is at least part of why the speaker wants to go to the late night double feature picture show. Whatever it’s because sci-fi outfits allow for a bit more fanservice than your Regular Movies (”And Flash Gordon was there/In silver underwear”), or cause the thrills of the monsters can become strangely sexual (”And I really got hot\When I saw Janette Scott\Fight a Triffid that spits poison and kills”) or just for some midnight alone-time in the back row...

And in the stage version that line is usually sung by an Usherette character which kinda makes it like... it puts another layer of reality between the audience and the plot. Like, what is seen on stage isn’t a musical abstraction of Brad and Janet’s misadventure but a musical abstraction of the experience of the Usherette (and the cinema audience played by the Actual Audience) watching a horror movie starring Brad and Janet. In the Picture Show, this is replaced with just like... a lot of intentionally kitchy transitions and editing tricks to constantly remind the audience that This Is a Movie. Because regardless of the medium, Rocky Horror is in some way about the Experience of Watching Movies.

And this also comes up when the Criminologist speculates about the nature of reality - it is actually true that life is an illusion and reality is a figment of the imagination, because he is a fictional character in a movie. And Magenta’s verse in “Time Warp”

Like, I suppose literally in-universe she’s talking about her hobby of spying up on people in the castle (like she did to Janet and Rocky in ‘Touch-A-Touch-A-Touch-A-Touch Me’) but like... this is also about being The Audience? Like, the Audience watching the movie are the one who are sitting invisible in ‘another dimension’ and see everything that’s going on... and are being freed by fantasy. (and also it’s important to note that Magenta and the Usherette generally share an actress on stage, and in the Picture Show, share lips but not a voice).

I think you can very easily read Rocky Horror as being About how yeah these old horror movies are cheesy and stupid but they’re also, like, a place of escape from mainstream conservative culture, where you can allow yourself to celeberate the weird and transgressive. Even if it’s kinda bittersweet under the conditions that this transgressiveness always has to come from Monsters and Aliens, and that it was to always Obviously Be Bad, and it must be Defeated and Destroyed at the end - as both the protagonists and the audience must return to the daytime world of normalcy.

Even with Magenta kinda being the Usherette, I think the comperison between Brad and Janet and the Audience is a bit more important. They’re the one who transition from the everyday daylight world of social norms into the late-night world of transgression and release that is Frank’s Fantastic FuckCastle. I mean, that’s why they have so little agency in the plot, they are mostly just sitting back and watching the events unfold. That’s also why Brad seems to have adapted the “Dr. Frank N. Furter did nothing wrong” position by the movie’s climax (”What’s his crime?”). It’s kinda like he’s not really viewing him as a real life person within his own reality, but like a fictional villain. Which is also how Frank views himself - as we can see at the end of “I’m Going Home”. From an in-universe perspective, it seems like a delusion. but from our perspective he is 100% correct. There IS an audience of people watching that entire show unfurl and cheering for him. 

Basically yes I am saying Frank N. Furter is himself’s, Brand and Janet’s Problematic Fave

And then when Frank dies and the Servant Duo beams back to their home planet, it’s explictly not a triumphant moment. It’s not a moment of heroism or any sort of moral victory for normalcy over transgressivism. Like, Frank and Riff-Raff share a lot of the same rotten personality flaws - it’s just that Frank is confident and flamboyant about them while Riff-Raff is resentful and self-loathing. That’s part of why Columbia and Rocky had to die, to drive home the fact that Riff-Raff isn’t doing any of this out of concern for Frank’s victims or even really to go home. It’s purely about his own personal beef. And for Brad and Janet, the ending is really melancholy due to the way they have been stranded back in the ‘real world’. All of the strange characters are either dead or gone, the setting itself literally beamed off the planet. They’ve been changed by their experience, but now they’re back in this daylight world that they escaped from. Cause in the end, the Science Fiction Double Feature always ends. 

And you’ve got all of this, and then you look at Rocky Horror The Cultural  Phenomena and it’s like....... it became like the ultimate encapsulation of what it was tributing to begin with. The Rocky Horror Picture Show is THE late-night science fiction/horror movie event. Midnight Screenings carry this movie and this movie is iconic to Midnight Screenings. And it’s this place that allows you an escape from normalcy and a space to be transgressive - through shouting sexual and\or dark jokes along with everyone else in the movie theater and through being a space for experimenting with gender presentation and\or sexually provocative outfits....It really just became the extremely concentrated version of the experience it was trying to convey in the first place.

And the whole Audience Participation and Shadowcast phenomena really works to enchance the movie’s film of nonreality, which is I think Important to it. Like you know, when you’re sitting in a very rowdy movie theatre shouting profanities at the screen while a bunch of friends mimic the actors’ actions with a few cardboard props because they’ve seen the movie so many times they know them by heart - the murder and the cannibalism seems more and more unreal by emphasizing how much it’s Performance. But “Don’t Dream It, Be It” - already an in-universe Performance by the one character who knows there’s an Audience, feels just as real as ever. 

And it just, it FITS SO WELL TOGETHER, it’s amazing none of this was intentional or even predicted. It’s really just beautifully poetic that this fandom happened.

[docholligay]

The Metropolitan Museum of Art

This is when I'm supposed to tell you about the weight of history and what it is to see the human experience of the human experience all collected into a large building, and how it being labyrinthine is a part of the art itself, giving one the feeling of the human journey, up and down and backwards and lost, always lost, but surrounded by beauty and blah blah I'm sure it would have been very evocative and I'm clever as shit or whatever but honestly one of my FAVORITE things to do in museums is play games with myself. I like to pick categories, and find things that fit them, and here's a sampler of what I found

Something I’d like to steal: 

This punch bowl could very possibly hold two gallons of my sangria in one go, which would enable me to be an even better hostess, not having to constantly be looking to see if the sangria needs to be refreshed with the jugs from the kitchen waiting in the wings. There’s such an intensely organic feel to it, I just think it would feel good to carry this. I feel like I always pick a serving piece for this category--I always spend a lot of time in the functional arts--but in fairness, that’s the things I like and also, it sounds very frivolous to say that I love throwing parties, but it’s a part of connecting with my community, and I think, in some way, serving them. Genuinely, I would love to host something like a Sailor Moon mixer or something if people could teleport in. That’s what I do for my congregation, is basically catering for the shabbat meal. Anyway, I would use the SHIT out of this for the Shabbat meal, and also for parties. 

Something that moved me:

This is The Angel of Death and the Sculptor, and I must have stared at it for five solid minutes. My mom was wondering what in the hell I was looking at, and it was hard to describe. There is something so beautiful about the way the young sculptor is caught by his wrist, in the middle of his art. It will ever be unfinished, but no less the beautiful for that imperfection. The look on his face, as I moved around the piece in the corner of the Parisian-style square set into the Met, that horror and knowledge all in one. The Angel of Death cannot look him in the eye. He does what she needs to do, and then moves on, but that in no way means that each work is wanted, and this is not the act of calling an ill old man home. He was scultping the sphinx! He was doing greatness! But that matters not at all, when Death comes to call. I thought about it a lot then, if I had been alone I might have sat there and written down every fool thought that came into my head, but I wasn’t, and so I moved on, but it was lovely, and I was really touched by it. 

Something I learned: 

I did not know this kind of multi-shelved thing made to hold mostly objects was called an étagère! I had seen them plenty in interiors, but hadn’t connected a name to them.

The ugliest thing i saw: 

This fucking??? “Display platter”??? So it’s a platter, but you can’t use it as a platter because you have the ugliest fuckign fish this side of Billy the Big Mouth Bass over here blocking every useful part of the platter, joined by his good friend why the fuck is there a crawdad desperately trying to escape this place, and several venomous snakes circling the place. This looks like something my beloved and very sexy wife would buy at a garage sale for 2 dollars and put up in the garage because I deemed it too ugly to hang by the dead animal skulls in our house.

[genevawren38]

My Favourite Stories I Have Written, a Blog;

✨Wilbur & Technoblade, Wilbur & Techno & Eret [Twinsduo, Traitorduo, Royalduo]

✨38k The Last of Us AU

✨Wilbur-centric & Techno-centric

✨Graphic Depictions Of Violence & MCD

✨Chapter 2 / 2 (When You're Lost in the Darkness / Look for the Light)

🎵Atlas Falls by Shinedown

"Wil, maybe you are immune?”

“Just put a bullet through my temple Techno, be simpler than second guessing leading to me accidentally killing you.”

“I won’t do that as long as you remain healthy, let’s just keep going and wait out a few more days before I do something so permanent. Deal?”

“...Fine.”

~~~

Wilbur and Technoblade's parents go missing, one after the other when their mother leaves for a routine outing and never returns leading their father to follow suit. Scared but determined the pair of brothers leave their safe haven to search, facing the horrors of the world they grew up in on their quest to find answers. Along the way they make a concerning discovery after Wilbur is bitten, with the tears of losing a close friend on their face the twins find themselves with more questions than answers on this long road they travel.

✨#mcytficfight Team Mushroom, c!Wilbur Soot & c!Technoblade & c!TommyInnit & c!Phil Watson [SBI / Sleepy Bois Inc]

✨12.1k W.C.

✨c!Wilbur Soot-centric

✨Graphic Descriptions & Canon Divergence

🎵Beside You by Marianas Trench

“I don’t know how to do this.” Wil admitted, looking down at the wrinkled hand he still held pressed to his scar. 

“If I know you, and I hope I do because you are my son, you have the strength to face this. Your inner core is pure hellfire, when forged right you could melt the very bedrock we stand upon if you believe it to be best. For you to even begin to accept how far your actions spread you must face the people it hurt the most. For you to get that determination you must see the pain you caused, then do your best to resolve it because your strength comes from those you keep near, fighting for ideals they believe in. You just care so fucking much about things, son, let those things be the ones you once held dear. After all, when you have good connections you can face anything. You might see forgiveness in the smallest places, but it will be a step forward nonetheless.”

✨#3SongsChal, c!Eret & c!Wilbur, c!Fundy, c!Philza, c!Niki Nihachu, c!Technoblade, c!Foolish_Gamers, c!Awesamdude, c!TommyInnit, c!Tubbo [Traitorduo, Prankduo, Divineduo, Royalduo, Eternalduo, Butterflyduo]

✨15.8k W.C.

✨c!Eret-centric

✨A tour of the Royal Archives

✨Graphic Depictions Of Violence & MCD & Canon Divergence

🎵WHERE THE SKIES END by Starset

Each space had its time and place, many combinations of conversations happened as they moved through their histories. Wilbur, Fundy, Tommy, Tubbo and Eret stood inside the Final Control Room as they exchanged apologies, the walls of death changing to mean one of reunions even moons later. Father and son eventually discussed their problems, turning into a family discussion when they moved to Wilbur’s Control Room.

Every place they stopped inspired the spark of forgiveness, from tiny to years old wounds, many things were talked about on this tour.

Tommy and Sam took a moment alone inside the copy of the prison cell the teen died in, coming out looking on much better terms. No more glances were traded between the pair, a tentative peace that would only grow stronger with the right sort of nurturing. 

A private moment happened between Ruler and shark totem when they approached the Egg, the Ruler gave themself the grace of the words the shark had told them time and time again, it was time to let go of the regret.

Each exhibit passed in much the same fashion, the people most affected discussing their experiences and talking about thoughts they held for years. When they stood in front of the desk once more, the tour completed, tension no longer crackled in the air.

Comradery had been forged among these broken soldiers who stood before them, each put through their own personal hells in their time spent here. The Ruler felt the lightest they had in years seeing the fire ignited in so many souls once more. 

This is what stories were supposed to do, to bring others together to listen to others words. To share wisdom and morals, to learn from what happened in the past and move forward into the future. Looking at each face gathered, Eret draws comfort that even through it all, they had said yes to coming today.

[The rest below the cut]

“if you find bones in the forest, sit a bit and listen. they are old and have some good stories to tell. maybe they’ll teach you a spell or two, or explain where the water on our planet came from.

✨#mcytficfight Team Phantom👻

✨Eret & Techno, Eret & Niki, Eret & Phil

✨13.4k W.C.

✨Eret-centric

✨Pirates & Sirens & SBI goodness

✨Forgotten by NateWantsToBattle

if you find bones by the ocean, run. don’t look back. run, faster, faster. the sea may love you but there are nights where she knows neither mercy nor science, and the bones warn you only once.”

~~~

Nightshade spent her whole life jumping from crew to crew, following the only magical item that might answer her lifelong questions about the missing part of herself. During her quest she ends up captured by the Shadows of the Abandoned crew who accepts her without condition and she learns to love herself despite the hand life dealt her and unlocks her true heart.

✨q!FitMC / q!PacTW [Hideduo/Fitpac]

✨12.3W.C.

✨q!FitMC-centric

✨Federation Happy Pills aftereffects & Canon Divergence & Romance

🎵How Did You Love by Shinedown

~~~

Finding love in the hints of shaky music and heavy aromas of roses, in the hesitant new beginnings of a starting courtship seeing the worst of each other and still accepting them no matter how battered or broken. They are both on their first dates and their forever partnership, forced together by horrifying circumstances but finding sanctuary in one another's arms and words.

Fit realises just how much Pac means to him after nearly losing him, dedicating himself to treasuring the one who trusted the anarchist to protect him, both healing along the way.

‘Tell me about Technoblade’.

✨q!Philza & q!Chayanne & q!Tallulah, c!Philza & c!Technoblade [Emerald Duo]

✨4.6k W.C.

✨q!Philza-centric

🎵Traveler’s Song by Aviators

The Angel of Death’s new charge commented a dear name to the ancient crow on the sign in front of him, a small blonde child looking at the avian hybrid with wide blue eyes filled with an ocean of curious questions. A dragon skull encased the top half of his face, held by some unknown force as wild gold curls spilled around it. His rose scaled wings were held close to his spine, peering up at the tall older blonde with an expectant stare.

“Oh Goddess, where do I start with that bastard?” Phil said with a wicked smile.

~~~

Philza tells Chayanne and Tallulah of Technoblade's adventures; from the beginning when they were teamed for Minecraft Monday to the Great Potato War, with a few more in between.

“Who are you?”

✨#mcytficfight team mushroom, c!Eret & c!Foolish_Gamers [Eternal Duo]

✨13.5k W.C.

✨c!Eret & c!Foolish_Gamers-centric

✨MCD & Graphic Descriptions & Canon Divergence

🎵creature by Half Alive

“My name is Foolish, I am here to stop the cult!”

The being proceeded to raise an eyebrow while staring at the demi-god, making him wonder why this brunette wasn’t ecstatic that someone friendly arrived and felt rather intimidated by their glare.

“Alright and how exactly do you plan to do that?”

Foolish opened his mouth to explain before falling short, realising beyond getting into the camp he had no clear idea on how to even stop the ritual from happening. Surprising the shark again they let out a rumbling chuckle, a small smile breaking out across their face.

Wilbur’s face doesn’t quite light up like it used to upon seeing them, early days of their country’s formation flashing to mind when they saw happiness when they spoke. Now he seemed hesitant, stopping before them. “Greetings Eret, off to a party?”

✨c!Eret & c!Wilbur [Traitor Duo]

✨3.6W.C.

✨c!Eret-centric

✨Regret & Canon Divergence

🎵Mykonos by the Fleet Foxes

A warm teasing tone sounded through his voice, one white curl falling down his forehead above his crinkled eyes. A hint of worry hid behind that liquid chocolate gaze but he seemed to be in a pleasant mood.

The Ruler laughs, holding the wine up for Wilbur’s viewing. “A party for one if you can believe it.”

“That’s a rather lonely concept.” Wilbur comments, peering at the label in the low evening light.

His reply stung, Eret tried not to let it dig too deeply as they tried to joke. “I am rather used to it. Just me and my bottle of wine, we will spend a lovely night together.”

“Feel up to adding another to that party for one?”

“Wil-Wilbur?” He stutters a bit, shuddering before reaching a tentative hand out to his son.

✨For meIIohisunsets New Years Fic Exchange Event 2022

✨o!Wilbur & o!Tommy, o!Wilbur & o!Philza, o!Wilbur & o!Technoblade [Crimeboys, Sand Duo, SBI]

✨5K W.C.

✨o!Wilbur-centric

✨MCD & SBI Inc as Found Family

🎵Blackbird by The Beatles

Concentrating, he let the blonde feel his cool dead flesh, looking at how his father has aged in the time past. A deep echoed tone rings through his sonorous voice, an eerie marker that he returned from beyond the grave for unknown reasons. “Hello Dad!”

Phil coos, reaching his scarred palm up to caress his son’s strong jawbone. “My son, what happened to you?”

“My own hubris.”

~~~

Wilbur is watching flying lessons between Philza and his youngest chick, Tommy, when the sunshine blonde gets a little too ambitious and the phantom rushes to his side fearing the worst.

[for the rest of the links my AO3 profile is here]

We May Have Lost Our Sanity (We Have Not Lost Our Humanity)

BOLAS BOLAS BOLAS!!!

✨q!Philza & Team BOLAS

✨25.5k W.C.

✨q!Philza-centric

✨Graphic Descriptions

✨QSMP Purgatory Lore Retell

✨Chapter 2/2 (Balance Exists That Calls Through the Abyss / In the Chaos I Create Again)

The Wise Crow Has Been Fooled (A Cage for a Cage)

"Crows remember human faces. They remember the people who feed them, who are kind to them. And the people who wrong them too. They don't forget. They tell each other who to look after and also who to watch out for."

✨q!Philza & Chayanne & Tallulah, q!Philza & q!Tubbo & q!Fit & q!Etoiles [Hardcoreduo, Veteransduo, Codebreakers]

✨7.4k W.C.

✨q!Philza-centric

✨QSMP Non Canon Tale

✨The Call by League of Legends, 2WEI, Louis Leibfried, Edda Hayes

~~~

My non-canon telling of the events from Phil's return to the QSMP after filming and learning of the eggs disappearance up until his capture by Cucurucho.

If the World Wants You Gone, We Will Fight the World

Picking back up his new scythe, his hands find familiar holds on the carved handle as he takes a few practice swings. It had been a very long time since the Angel of Death held a weapon such as this, the past few worlds only allowing him a sword or bow and arrow.

✨q!Philza & Chayanne & Tallulah

✨4.5k W.C.

✨q!Philza-centric

✨QSMP

✨Demons by Imagine Dragons

Flaring his crow-black wings wide, chest hurting as his sky eyes catch the shorn secondary and primary feathers, he allows the moniker to possess him once more. Taking a deep breath as he closes his eyes, seeing battlefields soaked in blood by his hand, he opens them once more to look over this world he woke up in mere months ago.

~~~

Philza is invited to the QSMP Electoral dinner only to find his chicks there, the same chicks he put to bed mere hours ago. As the realisation happens that these are not the real Chayanne and Tallulah, chaos unfolds as two binary monsters suddenly appear.

Gentleness in the Absence of Violence (Despite the Abundance of It)

”We have not touched the stars, / nor are we forgiven, which brings us back / to the hero’s shoulders and the gentleness that comes, / not from the absence of violence, but despite / the abundance of it.”

✨gl!Charlie Slimecicle and gl!Ranboo

✨Generation Loss

✨2.7k W.C.

✨gl!Charlie Slimecicle-centric

✨Graphic Depictions & MCD & Non Canon

🎵Comfortably Numb by Pink Floyd

~~~

Loneliness smashed into the muscular brunette as Charlie walked past the abandoned storefronts, debris spread across long forgotten floors.

Left behind pieces when not needed, just like him.

Turning the corner of the hall that drew his attention, he freezes at the sight in front of him.

You Make Sure I Always See the Daylight

A Coffee Shop AU about Ranboo, a new student to the city and university, stumbling across The Crows Roost Cafe for some food and he finds so much more than that.

✨#mcytficfight team mushroom, Ranboo & Toby Smith, Ranboo & TommyInnit, Ranboo & SBI Inc [Bee Duo, Allium Duo, SBI Inc & Sleepbees & Friends]

✨32.2k W.C.

✨Ranboo-centric

✨Alternate Universe & Cafe AU & SBI as Found Family

✨Summary continued below

🎵Daylight by Shinedown

A feel good found family story, this follows Ranboo meeting Sleepy Bois Inc and some other recognizable faces, from someone used to being alone to then finding warm companionship served up with his favourite cinnamon vanilla tea.

This will be a multi-part fic telling of how having a support system, even found off random happenstance, can be the best thing that happens to someone.

A White Orchid Broken in the Rain

“You may not remember this, but all of us went through hell to follow your frantic steps. After you left us, when you begged for death which was given to you, we were left in the remnants of what you had done. They were only children, Wilbur, kids left bearing the transgressions of a previous generation’s decisions, something the ones after us should never have to face.”

✨c!Wilbur Soot & c!Niki Nihachu [Rain Duo]

✨11.3k W.C.

✨c!Niki Nihachu-centric

✨Emotional Hurt/Comfort & Graphic Descriptions & Canon Divergence

🎵If You Only Knew by Shinedown

She took a breath, breaking their gaze for a moment before meeting him once more. “You might not have liked any of the things that were said, but I see an element of truth in all of them. So many consequences of your decisions landed on us, the ones sworn to you. While you got death, Wilbur, we got living hell.”

Her words were harsh, her mind finally settled on anger as the words left her full lips. “I do not know how you stand here again today, but I do know every word I've heard so far is deserved. You had the unlucky experience of coming back from the dead to fill shoes stained in blood and its going to fucking suck for a while, but you must face each person you harmed before you can ever begin to feel better.”

[coralinnii]

Riddle Rosehearts (Frankenstein monster!Riddle x apprentice!Yuu)

genre: horror, angst

note: mentions of d*ath, mentions of heavy medical crimes and illegal harvesting,

summary: He was a monstrosity. A freak of nature and you fear the man before you, even if he was someone you once loved.

series index

It was a one-in-a-million chance for this to be a success. He was called a medical miracle who survived through incredible odds.

The son of the renowned Rosehearts couple was caught in a deadly accident, leaving him with non-functional organs and severely damaged nerves. First responders were sure he would be dead by the time he reached his family’s private hospital. But, Mrs. Rosehearts announced that her son was alive and breathing. He made it.

…Supposed something made it.

“My love,” the redhead lovingly caressed your hands as you sat by his private room, as per his request. You fought the urge to vomit as you saw his stitches on his arms that pull the skin together. “Thank you for visiting me. You must have been busy”

Typically you would be, being the apprentice to Riddle’s mother in hopes to gain experience in the medical field. It was how you met Riddle and you two began a relationship without his mother’s knowledge.

“Of course, I would” you forced a smile to which the boy laying in bed responded with his own, his grey eyes crinkled along his smile which stretched the scarring across his face.

How you wish to believe this was your Riddle. Despite the burns and scars, he looked exactly like your beloved and he maintained the memories of your time together. But your mind was sending alarms in you, telling you to wake up from your delusions. He was not your lover, but a monster.

A monster you had a hand in making as you listened to your mentor’s commands to sneak into the morgue at night. You were driven by love and guilt to save Riddle no matter the cost. Afterall, he protected you during that fateful day which led to his condition now. So despite your oath, you helped Riddle’s mother in retrieving organs to replace the ones that her son was missing.

Heart, blood, lungs, skin, eyes. You discarded your own morality to desecrate your former patients in hopes to revive your beloved. His death, be damned.

You were as desperate as they were, but even Riddle’s parents could see your wavering resolve and threatened to destroy you should you tell anyone of the crime committed in their hospital. To them, you were just a scared apprentice not willing to go against the Rosehearts family, unaware of your own hidden motives to save their son.

“We just need to find more skin to hide the scars, and he’ll be perfect just like before” your mother whispered to you as she eyed the patients that came into the hospital that day, finding the right “benefactor”. You tried your best to help those who came to the Rosehearts hospital, looking to be saved. But now, they are donors, whether they realize it or not.

But, the Rosehearts were right. You were weak and your weakness was tearing you apart with every moment you spent with Riddle in his room. Your guilt ate away at you whenever he pulled you into a hug, where you can hear his heartbeat from the heart you stole. One of his eyes was from a young patient who recently passed. You remembered how that same patient laughed with you when you mentioned how her eyes remind you of your lover. Instead of grief, you gave half-hearted condolences to the family while planning your visit to the coroner’s office to falsify records of her autopsy.

“Love!” Riddle called out to you, bringing you out from your spiraling thoughts. “Why are you crying?”

The revived man reached out to wipe your cheeks, where you finally registered the wetness of your face and your stinging eyes. Weeks of dissociating yourself from reality has finally worked against you as you physically reached your limit. His hands felt different from what you’re used to. You recognized the skin of his hands as the same you scalped from one of your visits to the cold morgue.

Tears continued to fall as you broke down in your seat, as the panicked redhead tried to console his lover, oblivious to the atrocities done by you and his parents, the very people whom he trusts with his life.

He became a monster, and so did you.

[nicolefirekitty]

putting my thoughts under a cut since my friend who knows nothing about kh will probably see this post:

Thinking lots about Roxas and Xion post Kingdom Hearts 3, though this is more focused on Roxas.

They're both just children who came into the world at (supposedly) fourteen with no memories, and therefore no knowledge or experiences, and now they're thrust into as normal a life a Keyblade Wielder can get after being trapped for so much of their short lives. Xion became almost nonexistent until suddenly becoming two people against her will, only becoming whole when Sora rejoined her minds. Roxas had his ENTIRE LIFE replaced, only to suddenly remember his previous life in a fit of rage.

He clearly remembers both lives at the same time, shown with Sora being sad when leaving Twilight Town and saying goodbye to the real Hayner, Pence, and Olette. As well as appearing in a black coat in the fight in The World That Never Was and the snippets of memories we get to see afterwards. So his mental state must be a disaster, remembering two very conflicting lives and a one of them wasn't even real. But it was real to HIM.

Four kids living in Twilight Town enjoying their summer vacation, but now Hayner, Pence, and Olette don't even personally know who he is. They're willing to befriend him, clearly, but these aren't the people Roxas knew, and so much of his normal, fake life is overlapping his life as an Organization Member, and vice versa.

It's probably also practically impossible for this fifteen year old with one year of TRUE life experience and no real memories to process this to explain the horrors he went through to others. Even his friends. Only Xion would really understand what it feels like to be two people at the same time, surrounded with nothing but reminders of everything he is and isn't. But would she truly?

I headcanon the Days Trio +Saïx/Isa made the abandoned mansion their home, so it must be even more torture to Roxas. Probably to Xion as well, but I doubt as much since she made her choice willingly; though she did kinda force Roxas to kill her but that's neither here nor there. Oh but he definitely remembers her body crystallizing in his arms as she shatters into truly nothing, not even memories remaining, it all being his fault.

Man, can't wait for that Psychology of Roxas video :)

My thoughts on Xion aren't all that organized and I feel I put down the gist of what I have for her so far in my ramblings above. I just really feel bad for her and hope she gets to have a role in Kingdom Hearts 4. I do headcanon she's extremely touch starved and will hold Roxas' or Axel/Lea's hand as much as she can though. Also that she avoids Isa as much as she can, out of fear, anger, and pure spite.

[indianamoonshine]

peace | joel x reader | one shot

summary: just a quick and sickly sweet idea.

rating: m as always. there is a bit of smut in this but mostly fluff.

joel presses a kiss to your inner thighs.

each one soft and slow - the kind of kiss that’s so tender it could bring tears to your eyes if you weren’t so caught up in regaining your breath. his eyes meet yours in the darkness, the water reflecting the moonbeams’ shine into his irises.

from this angle he still manages to look so powerful despite the fact that he was settled underneath you - two thighs wrapped around his head and trembling with a voracity that was probably unsafe for a rowboat. no - definitely unsafe for a rowboat. joel licks his lips like the cat that’s just gotten the cream; smug in every sense of the word.

it’s a good thing there wasn’t infected for miles. if there had been, they’d surely heard the way his name rolled off your tongue in a lazy, sultry moan like a dinner bell. you release one more satisfied sigh before swinging a leg off his face.

joel grumbles in protest, locking his palms around the meat of your thigh, and bringing your center back to his mouth.

you shiver from overstimulation, eyes slipping closed, and giggle breathlessly. “joel…”

“just one more minute…” he mumbles, pressing a kiss to your clit.

a slight buzz tingles against the base of your spine when he does and you wiggle against his chin. “you’re going to have to breathe eventually.”

he continues to lick at you as though he’s half-asleep, relishing in a taste he’s told you so many times he finds delectable in every sense of the word. personally, you couldn’t understand his hyper-fixation on going down on you; like it was his outlet or his ailment to a really shitty day.

you suppose then it must be like sucking his cock.

he finally parts from you (not without another four more kisses of course) and taps you lightly on the ass with calloused hands.

“lay down with me,” he all but mumbles.

maneuvering in the flimsy structure was not without difficultly but you eventually manage to settle in beside him. it’s a tight fit but it’s cozy so you don’t mind. joel even made sure there wasn’t any spiders (and other creatures of course) before the two of you set out on the lake. it took a mouthful of convincing on his part - you didn’t trust dark waters - but you never doubted his capabilities in protecting you before.

you sigh, tilting your head onto his shoulder as the two of you gaze at the night sky.

you were a child when the outbreak happened - barely out of kindergarten and incapable of remembering anything other than horror. you can’t recall what the sky looked like then but those that do remember claim it was nothing like it is now. without the pollution, nearly the entire galaxy was visible and glistening in the sky. despite how many years have passed, it still takes your breath away.

maybe it’s just apart of the human experience to be stunned by nature’s divinity - even if it’s witnessed every day.

“it’s so beautiful,” you whisper.

joel hums under his breath. “sure is.”

the cicadas in the background are joined by the bullfrogs, their symphony organic and moving; like a tangible reminder of being a child during summer nights like these. in the midst of such tenderness, you weave his fingers with yours and ignore the way his hand flexes against your touch.

as though this were more intimate than fucking.

you suppose it is.

you want to ask him when the last time he felt peace was; when he last recalled feeling at ease or something other than reflex.

but nothing of the sort can escape your lips.

so kiss his cheek instead and hope — pray — that it’s enough for right now.

[callsign-relic]

GOING ABSOLUTELY FERAL FOR THE WHEELJACK PRED-CANONS.

THE WAY YOU WROTE THEM SCRATCHED AN ITCH JUST RIGHT IN MY BRAIN

///

two side things,

imagine wheeljack maybe is hanging round the autobots on earth with his little human, goes on a mission and takes a hit to his tanks, worriedly he spits up his little human to make sure they’re okay, they’re mostly alright but he just revealed that he has had a human in him….despite knowing primes thoughts (or in rebellion to ultra Magnus’s words)

—-

2nd, also I feel like some bots would try and mimic humans (what sounds like chirps/squeaks/etc to them) sounds and it would just sound like something out of an analog horror series to the human.

just a massive mech who’s hands stretched out to you in broken horrible English going

“help.”

“Please.”

“hello”

“don’t”

not even knowing what they’re parroting back to you.

-🪦

AAAAHHHHH OMG BOTH OF THOSE ARE SO GOOD!!!!!!!!

God omg imagine Team Prime’s horror. Wheeljack would absolutely still taste humans despite Optimus’ orders, especially if it’s to spite Ultra Magnus too.

“I ‘on’t see what the big deal is, commander, ‘s jus’ a human. They taste good an’ they feel good inside ya’. There ain’t no harm in that.”

“The harm in it, soldier, is you are actively end arguing a fragile organic species.”

“Pfft, right, cause Magnus here always has the brightest ideas on how to deal with those smaller than him.”

Afterwards Jackie’s forced to remove his human from his tanks, but afterwards he’s just doting on them (blissfully ignorant of their own fear) like “c’mon, those tight up bits don’t know what they’re talkin’ about. It ain’t so bad, right?”

And AAUGH THATS SO HORRIFYING BUT SO GOOD!! The poor humans would feel utterly disgusted, mocked even. It must be a horrible experience SHAGSHS

[queewp]

So, about your Infected Space AU, does that mean the turtles(Raph, Leo, Don, and Mikey) aren't brothers? Or, they are, but the two of them got infected just recently without having the rest knowing?

This somehow reminds me of a folktale I heard that came from other countries, of fae taking a newborn human child, and replace them with a changeling. I'm not sure whether I'm on spot though.

Your AU is pretty interesting.

They're all brothers!! Raph and Leo just got infected :)

I have drafted the actual scene- its just kinda bad and i plan on rewriting it lol:

They entered another door, Leo muttered to himself as he looked around. Disinfecting sprayed them, suddenly covering their visors in a thin layer of liquid. At least the place was somewhat intact. Raph huffed, shaking his head in an attempt to wipe it off. The doors opened again, leading down a hall with a glowing floor. From inspecting it, Leo realized it was above a large pool of magma. Leo shuddered at the thought of falling in and quickly shuffled forward. They entered another room, this one actually having a light source inside of it. 

Leo grumbled when he yet again, found no one. “You’d expect a place as large as this to have at least a dozen people,” Leo complained, turning his flashlight off, and letting his helmet compact back into the suit. Raph grunted, placing the box down on a table and doing the same. He was pretty glad when he could see clearly again. 

“Maybe they’re all in one spot?” Raph said, trying to sound hopeful, his voice sounding alot more organic than it had previously. 

Leo rolled his eyes, fists clenching. “I doubt that. There’s literally dust forming on this table, I don’t think they’ve been here in a bit.” Raph winced at the annoyance in Leo’s voice. “This is stupid! Why are we even in here right now, we should’ve left when we found no one at the gates!” He yelled, turning around swiftly. Raph’s eyes widened when a glass cylinder started to topple. 

“Leo- the glass!” Leo turned around and managed to save the glass from falling off the table. They both let out a sigh of relief, as he went to place it back. Ting. Something sounded, as another glass container fell over. Both watched in horror as it played dominos with the other fragile-looking objects on the table, and as dozens of items smashed to the ground. Liquid splashed onto the floor, and oddly shaped blobs laid on the floor.

The sound of glass shattering soon stopped, and the eerie silence of the place returned. They turned to look at the mess they made, a worried frown spreading over Raph’s features. 

“What are we supposed to do? Clean it up?” Raph asked, taking a step away from the mess. 

Leo rolled his eyes. “No one’s here anyways. These experiments must be ages old anyways. Let’s just leave.” Leo turned his back from the glass when he suddenly felt something slam against his back.

He let out a surprised yelp as he turned around to try and get it off, the creature slipping away from his grasp and sliding closer to his face. He gasped, as Raph tore the attacker from him, struggling to keep it in his hands. Whatever it was, it was dark pink, gooey, and deformed. It had tentacle-like limbs wriggling around, and it was producing a loud, high-pitched squealing. Raph screamed as it escaped from his grasp, launching itself onto his face. 

Leo's breath stuttered in his throat before he finally realized what was happening. He sprinted forward, tackling Raph in an attempt to get the creature off. It slipped through his fingers multiple times before he pried it off of Raph’s eye. It screeched, clinging onto his arm, an acute pain coming from where it was. He yelled, slamming it to the ground and backing away. 

He watched as the tiny monster tried to regain its composure, but was instantly interrupted when Raph’s boot smashed it. He stomped on it again, the movements of the creature soon stopped to a halt. 

[eretzyisrael]

Adeel Mangi is not a victim of “Islamophobia,” “bigoted smears” or anti-Muslim discrimination, as Timothy Lewis’s recent Philadelphia Inquirer op-ed asserted. The real reasons bipartisan senators, Jewish organizations and others oppose confirming Mangi as a federal appellate judge (one step below the U.S. Supreme Court) are the following:

Mangi was until recently an advisory director and repeated donor to a viciously antisemitic, anti-American, pro-terror organization—the so-called “Center for Security, Race and Rights” (CRSS) at Rutgers Law School; Mangi evaded questions and improbably professed ignorance about key matters (including antisemitism, terrorism and Middle East issues) that are likely to come before the federal appellate court; and Mangi has absolutely no judicial experience.

It is absurd to claim that a bipartisan group of senators oppose Mangi’s confirmation because Mangi is Muslim. The Senate overwhelmingly confirmed another recent Muslim nominee for a federal judgeship: Zahid Nisar Quraishi.

The majority of appellate judicial nominees have years of prior judicial experience and a record of judicial decisions that can be vetted. In public statements and letters, leading Jewish organizations involved in combating antisemitism, including: our organization, the Zionist Organization of America; Americans Against Antisemitism; StopAntisemitism; Students Supporting Israel; and the Coalition for Jewish Values (representing over 2,500 rabbis) noted that it is dangerous to elevate Mangi to a lifetime Court of Appeals judgeship when he has no judicial record to examine, which is not even to mention his alarming CRSS involvements.

Among other horrors, while Mangi was on CRSS’s Advisory Board (referred to as its “brain trust”), CRSS celebrated the Sept. 11, 2001 terror attacks’ 20th anniversary by hosting terror-affiliated speakers, including Sami Al-Arian, who was convicted for funneling funds, goods and services to the designated terror organization Palestinian Islamic Jihad. CRSS also hosted a group whose officials have connections to Al-Qaeda and Hamas networks, the notorious antisemite and anti-Israel propagandist Rashid Khalidi, and Israel-bashing BDS groups and leaders including Jewish Voice for Peace, Peter Beinart, Khaled Elgindy and Marc Lamont Hill (who was terminated by CNN for antisemitic comments).

Furthermore, CRSS’s website posted a resource guide listing and linking to numerous antisemitic, anti-Israel, BDS and terror-linked organizations, films, books, journals, “educational resources,” websites, podcasts and reports.

CRSS’s website also included CRSS Executive Director Sahar Aziz’s open letter praising and justifying Hamas terrorism and denying Israel’s right to self-defense while Hamas launched 4,500 rockets at Israel in May 2021. Aziz recruited Mangi to the CRSS advisory board. The Jewish Federation of Greater MetroWest New Jersey stated that “Aziz has regularly and consistently promoted vile antisemitic propaganda” on social media and elsewhere.

In addition to his own donations and services, Mangi obtained donations from his law firm for CRSS.

During his Senate Judiciary Committee hearing, Mangi repeatedly refused to condemn viciously antisemitic, anti-Israel CSRR events and statements by reciting this mantra: “I do not have the expertise or factual background to express views regarding the complex history of the conflict in the Middle East, which is irrelevant to my potential work on the United States Court of Appeals for the Third Circuit.”

Of course, condemning antisemitism and antisemitic Israel-bashing does not take expertise; it just takes courage. Moreover, antisemitism and Middle East issues are highly relevant to potential cases on the Third Circuit, including cases seeking remedies for antisemitic attacks and harassment on college campuses and city streets; cases regarding antisemitic boycotts; and cases brought by victims of Hamas and other terror groups under federal victims of terrorism and victims of torture statutes. Mangi is unfit and unqualified to fairly judge these important matters and should not be confirmed.