#i will die on this hill tyvm

[haysprite]

Yippee, Susie Headcanon time! This isn't even close to all of the HCs I have for her, just like with the other three, but some of em are like super specific or are Joey/Susie related (which I'm saving for later teehee), but this'll have to do! As per usual, this is my interpretation of her character, blah blah blah, whatever, let's get to em <3

• AuDHD REAL (y’all should expect this by now)

• Has a special interest in plushies/stuffed animals and the 80s/90s My Little Pony shows/toys

• Is really quiet and shy when you first meet her, but once she grows to like and trust you, her personality shines a lot more! She’s a lot more talkative, bubbly, and loves to mess around with you!

• It takes her a while to warm up to people, though, and often finds it hard to trust others unless Julie or Joey are already friends with the person

• Looks up to Julie big time, who’s always been her cool, older role model

• She’s a BITER lmfao, it's her main way of showing affection as off putting as it can be for some people. It’s also a great way for her to get people to back off, since who tf wants to get bit. Tries not to do it as much since she got her braces, but sometimes she just can’t help herself

• Will hide her hands in her hoodie sleeves and whack the hell out of people

• Was really insecure about her braces at first, and got teased about them quite a bit at school. She still gets insecure about em every once in a while, but Julie, Joey, and Frank all make her feel a lot better about having them, so she tries to have fun with them by choosing fun colors every time she gets her bands replaced

• Has an extensive plushie collection! Her favorites consist of a lil black n white cat, a seal, and a worn out teddy bear

• Also has a collection of MLP merch, most of which were gifts from Julie

• Rarely ever seen without a hoodie or some sort of jacket on, both out of comfort and cause she gets cold very easily

• Her room is covered in random art supplies just laying about, and her desk is stained with a shit ton of paint

• Rarely ever stood up for herself when she got bullied, she just had a really hard time with this, so most of the time Julie or Joey would come help her out. Being a part of The Legion helped her gain a bit more confidence outside the mask, however, so she started standing up for herself more often

• Has the most energy of the group, and is practically always bouncing in her seat wanting to do something, whether it's just talking to her friends or going out and actually doing something

• Despite all her energy, though, she will CRASH at the end of the night, and it is IMPOSSIBLE to wake her up until morning, as she’s a very heavy sleeper and will sleep through just about anything

• Owns a lot of clothes with cats on em :3c She just really loves cats

• She’s a nail biter, so Julie started painting Susie’s nails so that she’d stop biting them as much

• Heavily dislikes the holidays, since they tended to feel super lonely and depressing for her growing up. She just felt like she got jipped for most of them, and got pretty jealous seeing how happy other people compared to her.

   • Struggles a lot in school, so she tends to get Julie’s and Joey’s help a lot, and sometimes they’ll have little study sessions just to help her out. She excels in her art and English classes though

• She knows a little bit of French! She’s not at ALL fluent, but she can read, speak, and understand some here and there

• Either has to work in dead silence or with her favorite music on, there is no in-between

   • Whenever she’s not at school or out n about with her friends, she loves to spend time alone in her room working on her art 

   • Has a little diary that she writes EVERYTHING down in, including some of the most insignificant details about her day. Nobody’s allowed to look inside it, not even Julie. She made the mistake of bringing it to school once, and just barely managed to grab it back from some girl who snatched it from her before the girl got to read any of it

 • Hates coffee with the PASSION, she thinks it's absolutely disgusting. She’s not a big fan of tea, either, but she does enjoy milk tea

• She enjoys reading, and has a few books that she loves to reread over and over again

• Loves to bug her friends a lot, and will find little things to do that’ll annoy them without making them upset at her

• She tries REALLY hard to fit in, especially within The Legion, and wants to prove to her friends how cool she actually is. Of course, the other three already love her dearly, but sometimes she doubts herself and thinks she has to try harder despite not even needing to try at all in the first place

• After finding out that Julie liked Frank, she bugged Joey to get him to tell her if Frank liked Julie back. After getting this confirmation, Susie annoyed the HELL out of Frank nonstop about this, and always called him out whenever she caught him staring at Julie or somethin, much to Frank’s annoyance

• She was the one who made the friendship bracelets for the group, and she was SOOOO excited to give them to everyone, since she spent quite some time making them

[thesaurus]

// a brief note on the underrated bliss of drinking domestic cans of beer that have been cooling on the porch

// I see your holiday cocktails and raise you… a coors light

[chernabogs]

ames you are COOKING (or should i say, planting???lol) SO HARD with the flower language prompts, 😭💖💞💖💞✨✨am really out here sobbing and crying over them like im watering these flowers with my Tears lol

so here i am requesting for these prompts: rosemary, begonia, pink camellia, dark crimson rose, purple hyacinth, blue salvia, zinnia

i picked these based on your initial tag about Maleficia and zinnia flower,,,, I SEE THE VISION so im requesting it now lol but also picked on prompts that reminded of Meleanor and Malleus,,, 😭i think therapy bills should be forwarded to Draconias instead, istg all they ever do is be in grief and loss /lh😭

if its too many, please feel free to choose whichever prompt you like and take your time in writing !! ☺️💞🌹✨✨

Ohhh I did my best here I promise LMAOOO. I tied in some easter eggs with other works i've done (namely Monody, Stasis, and Labours Gained). I hope you enjoy my absolute monstrous dump about Maleficia, whom I will die on a hill for tyvm

EMPTY CHAIRS

Inc: Maleficia, Meleanor, Levan, Lilia, Malleus (whole gang wow) WC: 4.2k :))) Warnings: Just some death, but I swear it ends on a happy note this time. Flowers: Begonia (How ghosts help the living live a little), Pink Camellia (Where I notice your absence the most), Dark Crimson Rose (The grave I visit everyday), Purple Hyacinth (The worst pain of my whole life and how it healed… multiple times) , Zinnia (The seats at the table and how they eventually became empty… multiple times) Summary: Moments where Maleficia was convinced her family was cursed, and a few times she truly wished this to not be the case.

A mother's love for her child is like nothing else in the world.  It knows no law, no pity.  It dares all things and crushes down remorselessly all that stands in its path.

Their family may be cursed. 

For many decades now Maleficia had toyed with the possibility of such a matter in her mind. It had first passed briefly with the death of her father—the second monarch to take over after the initial uprising—and the subsequent death of her mother a few weeks later. No one was surprised when she went. Her grief for the loss of her love had been so profound that it had flooded Briar Nation, drowning both cattle and crops in her dismay. Maleficia had postponed her own coronation as the cleanup occurred. It felt ill-boding to be crowned while bodies were floating down the mountain pass. 

The thought had returned once more when her husband vanished at sea, leaving her with a newborn hatchling on her own. Her love had been a strong headed man with adventure burning in his blood—it had been what drew her to him to begin with. That, and he was the only ex-sailor she knew who was bold enough to try and hold her for ransom. Wiping the deck with him had captured his heart—and the fact that he had been a dragon settled the Senate to a degree. But the sea is a fickle mistress, and although her love had skill and he had drive, even the most knowledgeable of sailors can never predict its next move. 

She had not flooded Briar Nation like her mother had, and she had held herself together before her people, although the empty space in her bed and at the dinner table deepened the wound nightly. It was in the quiet moments alone when it was just her and Meleanor that she felt his absence the strongest. 

In the beginning she loathed him for leaving her. Whenever she cradled their daughter as the hatchling shrieked and protested, blowing flame, and biting for flesh, she loathed him. Whenever she dealt with the Senate or another disaster befalling the Nation, she loathed him. 

But when Meleanor learned to fly, learned to run, and shifted into her two-legged form for the first time, the hatred began to fade. Because although he had vanished into the mists on a voyage destined to fail, he had left her with the greatest treasure she could ever have—and for that alone she could hold no ill will. 

Perhaps this sentimentality is why when Meleanor dragged a thin, sickly-looking bat into the halls of Black Scale, Maleficia heard her out.

“Please let him stay!” The princess had asked, green eyes wide as she grasped her mother’s skirts. “Please, mother!”

The other child had shrunk behind Meleanor, but shadows could not hide the burning defiance in the boy's eyes—a gaze of confrontation, and one that nothing truly innocent should hold. This is why she lacked the heart to say no. She quietly hoped that Lilia, as she would name him, would be the one to slay whatever reaper was following them—that the burning anger she had seen would ignite a fire that would cleanse the family of its suffocating misery. 

With the presence of Meleanor, Lilia, and eventually Levan, the silent table Maleficia had sat at for so long soon became a place of raucous conversation again. Although she found herself scolding the three children more than once (especially Levan for his non-subtle attempts at discarding food), the lingering warmth she would feel as she gazed at the trio made her confident that this family curse was on the bend. 

Naturally, it didn’t last. 

The first time she heard of the Silver Owls, Meleanor was 200 years old and more focused on warding off suitors than an unmarked ship. Maleficia had allowed her daughter to indulge by instead consulting with an advisor alone in the dark of her office. The concern lingering in the advisor's words would grow to haunt her.

“Perhaps it is temporary?” She posited, trying her best to remain optimistic on the matter. Plenty of people came and went from Cape Sunrise. A single unmarked ship with a few scraggly sailor’s was not something she felt the need to stress over. The advisor seemed doubtful on the matter.

“But they have tools. Items designed to dig up our soil,” they had insisted, but Maleficia dismissed the concerns with a wave and a blase response. 

“Let them try. They will not be able to break the first layer of our land.” 

___________________________________

The first one to leave the table had been Levan. There were many soldiers and nobles who vanished before he did but, selfishly, he was the first one that Maleficia really felt the absence of. Levan had grown up from a non-confrontational child to her son-in-law, a general of the princess and a father to the future heir. His compassion had not faded despite the years of war that now tore the Nation apart. Maleficia knew this by the way she came across him one night, cradling his egg so gently while murmuring against its shell. 

When he had noticed her, he had not corrected himself; if anything, he held the egg even closer. They had not exchanged too many words that night, but she sat next to him on the bench in the gardens, the silence speaking volume of her support to his decisions. 

“You will return.” It was not a question—it was a demand. Her voice held the authority of a queen who had seen many, many losses in her long life. Levan had remained silent for a moment longer as his lips brushed against the shell of her grandson's egg. 

“Always,” was the promise he made, and the last words Maleficia heard from him. When they didn’t receive notice for several days after he left, the conclusion was drawn that he was either dead, or the closest one could be to it. Meleanor held herself well in lieu of this information, as had Maleficia. 

But the empty seat felt an ill omen. 

___________________________________

The next one to leave the table had been Meleanor. When she was younger, she used to rest her head on Maleficia’s lap as her mother had fixed her hair. She would ramble on about her day and what she got up to with the two boys in the nonsensical fashion that many children do. Maleficia had listened with amusement, although her mind had always been half-focused on what she needed to do for her meetings the next day.

The regret of not giving Meleanor her full, undivided attention sunk in deep when she felt her daughter’s magic cut off. The bond in their family was intrinsically woven to allow them to get a sense of whether the other members were still alive. If asked, Maleficia might say it’s something of a dragon trait. Most of the time it served to be a blessing to allow her to know her family is alive and well. 

When it cut off mid-emergency meeting, the abruptness had been so profound that she nearly collapsed then and there. Her breath had hitched, her words stuttering to a stop as she stared wide-eyed at the Senate members surrounding her. At first, she hoped it was simply a fluke—a disruption in the magic—until she didn’t feel it return and the horrible, tar-like panic of a mother when her child goes missing welled up in her heart. She was tearing out of the room before any of the Senate members even had a chance to speak, screaming for her guards and her soldiers to tell her what was going on at Wild Rose. 

Her daughter, who spent her childhood running through the forests and laughing in the face of suitors. Her daughter, whose hair she would braid and then re-braid again when the girl somehow got burs in it. Her daughter, who was set to become a mother herself and experience all the precious moments Maleficia had. 

Her daughter, whose body wasn’t even recovered at the end of it all. 

___________________________________

The final one to leave the table was Lilia. In wake of the princesses passing, Malleus’ egg was put in the cradle tower, and Maleficia was designated to spirit him into hatching. She felt the faint connection of their magic from within the thick shell that guarded his body. His warmth, the subtle movements he made; they were all indicators that he was still alive and well despite his tumultuous arrival.

But Maleficia didn’t know if he would oblige. Hatchlings often needed the love of both parents to be shepherded forward—and Maleficia, now over eight hundred years old, already felt the strain of her magic from the conflicts going on in her Nation. There was no doubt that she held love for her grandson—but a lingering fear that her love wouldn’t be enough burned in her mind. This is what made her turn to Lilia, to send him on his quest around the world to try and find an additional means to bring the young prince forward.

For the first few decades, it worked well. Maleficia held the egg on a nightly basis and poured as much of her love and magic into it as she could. The egg consumed it all in a greedy fashion, demanding more every time she returned to the tower. One would think that Malleus was starving within by the way he pulled, and tore, and ripped at her powers to fuel his own development. 

Then he ceased feeding. She recalls the first night it happened; everything had been going well, until the connection was suddenly severed, and the green glow within the egg dulled back into a faint tint of color. Maleficia had initially dismissed it as a one-off event. Until it happened again, and again, and again. 

There’s a curious sense of panic that fills someone when they do everything they can to no avail. The panic she felt came in the form of a privatized breakdown in the tower. For many decades now Maleficia had toyed with the possibility of a curse in her mind. Now, she was beginning to consider that it was not her family who was cursed, but rather just herself. 

First it came for her father, and her mother shortly after. Then, when it grew hungry again, it ate through her husband and that of her daughters. Then it came for Meleanor herself, and now whatever reaper followed them was looming over her shoulder as she held Malleus’ egg and begged him to take something. 

Pleas fell from the lips of a monarch as she rocked the egg, stroked its shell so softly, whispering to just eat a little more, just take a little more. But the egg had remained as cold and aloof as it had for several nights now. Her desperation mounted in an order to Baul to summon Lilia back—to slay whatever reaper was following them before it pried the last of her bloodline from her hands. 

Her hopes of his role as the vanquisher of death came in an explosive hatching that she was informed of after it occurred. When she requested for Lilia to be brought to Black Scale to be reinstated in his role in his efforts, the Senate had then informed her that Lilia Vanrouge would never step foot in the capital again.

And so, in a span of mere moments, the final seat was emptied—and Maleficia found herself alone once more. 

___________________________________

Grandchildren are the best reminders  of the beauty and innocence of childhood.

When Malleus was first brought to her after he hatched, she didn’t want to touch him. The purple hue of his stomach and the way his green gaze darted around, drinking in the new world he emerged to, reminded her so much of Meleanor that she wanted to laugh at the cruel irony. The hurt that smouldered in her heart ignited back into a flame that found her turning a cold shoulder to the hatchling. 

“Go clean him. He has amniotic fluid all over.” She remembers ordering, voice deceptively calm for the turmoil happening within. The wet nurse that was hired obliged as the hatchling shrieked and protested the frequently changing environment around him. His cries made Maleficia clench her jaw tighter as she stared resolutely at the battle plans drawn before her, her hands gripping the table enough to turn her knuckles white. 

A few times she went to him in the beginning. The encounters lasted only as long as Maleficia could tolerate seeing how similar he looked to Meleanor before she would depart and leave him in the care of his wet nurse once more. Guilt fought with anger in her heart about the circumstances that she found herself in and her inability to overcome them. She could feel the ghost of her daughter chastising her in the corner for being so cowardly in her approach. 

The breakthrough arrived when Malleus became ill. Grieves—a fever-like condition that affected fae children in particular—resulted in Maleficia sitting with her grandson one night as the exhausted wet nurse was excused for a long overdue break. She held him on her lap in the dark as his small form fought his fever, whispering how the stars that looked down from above were the eyes of the people who loved him, keeping him safe in this world. Her voice had cracked as she spoke, and it was only when a small whine left him did she realize she was hugging him tight to her body. 

“I am so sorry,” she had choked out, unsure if the apology was for the hold she had or the neglect she had given so far. “Please forgive me.”

Malleus had twisted in her arms, small wings fluttering before he settled himself down and began to doze. He had already forgotten what upset him to begin with. She wished it would always be that way—but she knew that was nothing but a vague hope. 

She loathed Meleanor for leaving. Whenever she cradled Malleus as the hatchling threw his tantrums, blowing flame, and biting for flesh as all children seem to do, she loathed her. Whenever she dealt with another part of the war or signed another treaty alone, she loathed her. 

But when Malleus scrambled onto her lap mid-Senate meeting, chased after courtiers, and flew for the first time (admittedly, into a flock of pigeons), Maleficia loved her. Because although like her father she had vanished in an ill-fated decision, she had left a small reminder that she was never truly gone. Maleficia could comfort Malleus, could see the ghost of his mother in his clever little eyes, and for that alone she could hold no ill will. 

Meleanor’s death had proved to be far worse than anything else—but her gift of the small dragon in her lap felt like the first steps towards recovery again. So, she had kissed between his horns that night and promised to herself that she would do all that she could to give him a future free of the misery that plagued their family thus far. 

___________________________________

In the aftermath, she spent time with him whenever she could. Via dinners, via having him sit in on meetings, via walks in the gardens—whenever she could, she would be there. However, despite her newfound presence changing some things for the better, she remained unable to quell the curiosity that burned in her grandson's mind. 

She found him in the mausoleum once. He was standing on the toes of his mother with his small hand touching her stone-carved face. Maleficia had not been to the mausoleum since the boy hatched so many years ago. The raw memories still stirred in her heart and seeing him look up at his mother with such a gaze of innocent adoration did nothing but unsettle her more. 

When he noticed her, his face had lit up into a smile as he hopped back down and pointed up to one of the other statues. “This is grandfather?” 

Maleficia’s gaze slid to where he was pointing. A strong jaw, a dangerous glint in stone-etched eyes, and a faint smirk painted the picture of the man she had once loved and held so dearly many years ago. Maleficia nodded. Malleus, taking this as encouragement, then ran back to the other statue he had been touching with his small hands. 

“And this is mother?” 

Again, Maleficia nodded. The painful similarities between Malleus and his mother were more apparent when they were side to side. If Maleficia were to squint, she could mistake Malleus as a younger Meleanor: the same horns, same hair length, even the same streak of mischief that got both into so much trouble. 

Malleus had hummed thoughtfully before stepping down again. “Do you miss them?” 

A deceptively innocent question. Of course she missed them. All she had left of her family was one grandson and three empty coffins: a husband at sea, a daughter in the hands of humans, and a son-in-law somewhere in the moors. “I do,” she offered back. “I miss them greatly.” 

Malleus had asked her why, then. Children like him were filled with innocence and wonder about the world. He had no knowledge of the bodies that were lost, or the tragedies that had predicated his birth. Her reply did nothing but fuel an unease in the boy, for moments after she offered it, he ran back to her and threw his small arms around her waist.

When he hugged her, he clung with a ferocity that was baffling for his size. Her hands rested on his head and stroked his hair soothingly as she had done with Meleanor many times before she guided him away from the tombs and the memory of family he never met.

She should visit them more often now. 

___________________________________

She rediscovers that there’s a privilege in watching someone grow. Lilia’s gradual return into their lives helps ease the stress of raising a child again in her older age, which is partially why she turns a blind eye every time Malleus slips out of the palace to visit the man. She’s honoured to observe in a more passive manner the way her grandson changes and grows as a person. She watches him go from spiteful towards humans to more amiable with the arrival of Lilia’s adopted son. As he grows before her eyes, she begins to see less of Meleanor and Levan in his features and more of just Malleus—the quiet, albeit arrogant, boy that was hers. 

Time goes by faster as she ages alongside him. One moment he’s clinging to her skirts, and the next he’s off to NRC, and then finally, 178 years have passed like the blink of an eye. She used to bemoan how slow time was—and now she wishes it to ease off a bit.

She’s sitting in the gazebo in the gardens for reprieve, a novel in hand as the screaming of insects choruses a song for her amusement. The aroma of flowers surrounds her and for a moment she feels utter peace in the world. The summer is ending and there are no celebrations or events to concern herself with. For the first time in what feels like eons, Maleficia Draconia can breathe. 

The sound of someone approaching puts a pause in this. 

She lowers her book to peer over at whoever is coming, hoping silently it isn’t an advisor or a courtier seeking out an audience on the sly. Fortunately, the sight of two horns and a scowling face turning the corner nullifies this as she turns back to her book. 

“Finally decided to see the sun?” She muses as she hears him stepping onto the gazebo platform. She waits for his response, but only comes to feel surprised when Malleus kneels by where she sits and does something that he hasn’t done in a long time now—he places his head in her lap. At his age, his body is too tall now to really kneel efficiently at her side, but by the gods does the boy try as he hits his head right down. Her hand comes up on instinct to brush strands of his dark hair behind his ear as he looks over the gardens, his shoulders tense with stress. 

They’re silent for a moment, listening to the sounds of screaming insects from beyond before Malleus speaks.

“The gardens look atrocious.”

Maleficia raises an eyebrow as she lowers her book to look at where he’s staring. Her hand continues to stroke his head soothingly as she huffs a soft laugh. “Our groundskeepers are going for a more ‘untamed’ look this season.”

“I have counted twenty-six thistles in the minute I have been here.” Malleus shoots back as his hand comes to rest by his face. “It’s late in the season. They might be growing lazy.”

 “Nonsense. You know how hard working they are. You spent ample amounts of time with them when you were younger.” She fails to hide the smile teasing on her lips with this comment. Malleus’ temper tantrums had landed him in more than enough problems in his youth. Problems which were often rectified by a gentle lesson of how hard it is to fix up his messes—garden destruction included. 

Malleus deigns her with a unprincely snort in response. They fall back into a warm silence as she keeps her hand on his head and returns her attention to her book. She knows that something is on his mind, but she retains her silence both to give him an opportunity to speak, and to enjoy the moment that they’re having. In the privacy of the garden, they can get away with this rare display of familial affection. 

She feels him sigh as his eyes flutter close before he speaks up. “Do you ever feel… unease?” 

“Unease?” She hums quietly as she turns a page. “On many occasions I have, yes. Unease tends to go hand in hand with some of the things I have dealt with.” 

She knows he doesn’t mean in the sense of his royal duties. Malleus is an unusually quiet and introverted boy—but she had noticed him being more so the past week as summer began to inch towards its end. He opens his eyes and sighs again before withdrawing to sit back on his knees. 

Maleficia wisely closes her book and sets it down before affixing him with as stern of a look as she can muster without chuckling. “Sighing and moping in the corners does little to aid me in providing advice.” 

Malleus’ gaze goes upwards to stare at the ceiling of the gazebo before his expression drops to a pout. “I am feeling reluctant to return to NRC.”

“Oh? And why is that?” 

Maleficia quietly reaches her hand out to brush his bangs back from his forehead, revealing the scale pattern beneath. Malleus’ eyes flutter shut at the gesture as his pout remains present.

“Three years have passed now, and I have yet to feel included in the school environment. Spending my days with those I already know from here hardly feels like an efficient use of time.” His jaw clenches. “Every effort I make to form any sort of connection to others feels like it’s a pointless endeavour at this rate.”

“Malleus, you must be patient with these things. It takes time for people to warm up to the likes of us. You must simply continue being yourself, and the right people will make the effort to get to know you. I understand it may seem upsetting right now, but you must simply keep trying your best.” A faint smile touches her lips despite the worry gnawing at her heart. She wishes she could do more, but she also understands that these are things he must figure out himself. “You’re going to this school to gain new experiences and see the world beyond our little Valley without the Senate looming over you. Things will work out in the end.” 

Malleus’ body seems to relax at her words as he opens his eyes again. His expression eases to his usual neutral look as he nods slightly. “... yes, I suppose you are correct.”

“I often am.” She pinches his cheek lightly, causing the scowl to immediately return to his face as he jerks to avoid her grasp, making her laugh in turn. “Besides, are you not excited to see Lilia, Silver, and Sebek more often again? Well. More often than you do already.”

A pointed look has him averting her gaze as she picks her book up again. His demeanour reminds her of Meleanor, but the similarities no longer ache when she considers them. This was Malleus—her grandson, not his mother, nor his father—and she was eager to see the person he was still destined to become. “Now, you should be packing, should you not? We don’t need the crisis we had last year where we were all hunting down books for you last minute.” 

Malleus groans softly before rising to his feet and brushing his pants off. He presses a brief kiss to her forehead, coaxing another smile from her lips before he pulls away. 

“Yes, grandmother,” he grumbles with all the moodiness of an embarrassed teenage boy, and Maleficia can’t help but feel happiness at seeing it. Cursed or not, she will continue to enjoy these moments of joy as long as she may have them.

[final-milf-ratchet]

I just wanted to say that post was about Megs, Shockwave and even Breakdown but now I need to be enlightened about Magnus right now if you please

No u r so so right abt all of them being bottoms too just please look at him

Look at him and tell me he doesn't have a massive rack. Like. If you stood too close he wouldn't be able to see you over his chest. (Obv no one beats shockwave as the president and founder of the big titty committee but I think Ultra Magnus could be a good candidate for perhaps vice-president or treasurer)

And like. Let's be honest. If you told him he had nice tits he would be soooooo embarrassed it would be SO cute.

Also, listen, I think we can all admit that every tf character has some continuity where their design sucks. Ultra Magnus, however, is nothing but BANGERS throughout every continuity where they show him (even animated and I will die on that hill tyvm) my personal favorite is TFP just cause

LOOK AT HIM he's literally got an hour glass figure (I choose to see it gives ultra Magnus even bigger boobs lol)

Animated ultra Magnus?

Literally has little hand holds for someone to pull on while their fucking him! I could go on forever but I shall rest my case here. For now.....

[leorawright]

oh my goodness!! hi!! can i get a romantic matchup for tf2??

my name’s sammie! i’m bisexual, use she/her pronouns and im an isfp 4w5, slytherin, and on the gemini/cancer cusp. initially i am a little stand-offish and a bit judgmental of everyone (given my BPD) , but i slowly warm up to people over time. i feel my emotions very very strongly and as a result can quickly jump to conclusions or overthink situations. i guess im pretty sensitive all around. this also means i’m pretty damn anxious over everything lol but i usually manage to pull through. i am very protective and defensive of people/things i love & can, and will, die on a hill for them. im prone to a bit of jealousy if i really really like someone unfortunately and may be a little clingy because i don’t like being alone and prefer to be with people. my humor is very pessimistic and sarcastic and i prefer people who understand/share that kind of humor. i look out for my friends and try to take care of them as much as possible (reminding them to go to sleep, helping them do their work, etc). i worry a lot and am always making sure they’re okay. i normally give out solutions rather than comfort when people come to me for advice but i generally am kinda okay at comforting people. i enjoy debating and yapping (go figure) because i am very opinionated & competitive and love to share my feelings/opinions/etc. i am a little stubborn though as i either see things as really good or really bad so it may take a little while for me to open up to new ideas but i am not entirely closed off to it. i love collecting silly little trinkets & knives, listening to 70s-90s punk rock music, going outdoors to various different places especially concerts, playing video games & watching movies, gambling on card games, and writing/reading. but i am really open to doing anything!! no matter how risky it is!! i have a soft spot for cute things & animals and my favorite has always been cats. as for what i enjoy in partners and friends i guess someone who can keep up with me and my emotions, who can listen well when i need someone to talk to, and they don’t take things TOO seriously.

hope this is enough! tyvm <3

Demoman!

Try not to tell jokes when he's drinking something because he can and will choke on whatever he is drinking

He's always happy to explain situations if you jump to conclusions

He's a great listener and gives some pretty good advice if you're looking for any

He's also pretty open to new experiences, so concerts, card games, whatever you want to do with him he's happy to try

Please remind him to sleep, he probably needs it

[hallasimss]

your tags and commentary for kmik literally always make my day 🥹 i literally will sit there refreshing until a post gets some halla love 😭 i’m so glad you’re enjoying it and thank you so much for bein so kind and takin the time to watchhhh 🫂

very late to this ask but you are always welcome—tbh i'm the kind of person that talks incessantly whenever i'm watching a series or specific films so KMIK is just an extension of that experience to me. only difference is there are tags to ramble in + i am heavily invested in where this goes (as i've said before, i think) bc Dan deserves all of the happiness in the world that we can give him and i will die on that hill, tyvm

[actual-bill-potts]

🤔 and 🔥 for the Silmarillion ask game! (I will shamelessly enable WIP procrastination)

oh hell yes, tyvm <3 <3 <3

already answered🤔 here, but just for you here's another one: Finrod can't taste bitterness very well, and finds things like green tea and dark chocolate and dandelions very bland and unenjoyable. He also has an enormous sweet tooth :)

🔥Give us your hottest Silm hot take. Oh you KNOW what I'm going to say: BEREN DID NOTHING WRONG. ever. in his life. i will die on this hill and what's more i will kill on this hill.

"beren should have gone to find his mother and people instead of following his father/after his father's death" - no he should not have, first cuz he had no guarantee they were alive and second cuz he was being actively hunted by morgoth and had a price on his head as high as fingon's. The most caring thing he could do for the (possible) remains of his family was to stay the hell away from them so Morgoth would leave them alone.

"beren was wildly presumptuous to dare to love lúthien/creepy for following her around in the forest/should have broken up with her when thingol told him to" - first off who gave elu thingol internet access. second off do you really think lúthien - you know, lúthien, famous overthrower of dark lords and spurner of fëanorians, ring any bells? - would have put up with any creeper nonsense from beren? i think not.

"beren should have just run away with lúthien" - oh yeah? run where? remember that price on his head? well guess what, it's doubled, because now thingol is also hunting him down. on a more serious note: I think Beren leaving on the silmaril quest is his way of "soft" breaking up with Lúthien. Beren knows that without Thingol's approval, he can offer Lúthien nothing. He has no home, no family, no safe place to raise children - and if she makes a drastic break with her family because of him, she will live to regret it when Beren inevitably dies and leaves her completely alone. Lúthien is the only bit of happiness or hope that Beren has had for years: after she is ripped away, it honestly makes complete sense that Beren would set out on a suicide quest.

"beren shouldn't have asked finrod for help getting a silmaril" - first off, the text never says that he did ask for that help. for all we know, all he asked for was a map. and also - beren has been driven out of any safe place, shelter, or home he's ever had. he is completely alone, friendless, and in despair. finrod and nargothrond was his only hope of a friendly face or a place of shelter: of course he sought finrod out!

(cont) second off, I think it's a patently absurd reading of the text to suggest that beren is knowingly asking finrod to go to his death, even if he does ask for help getting a silmaril. he grew up at the very end of the Long Peace, during a time of (probably) very high tensions, growing darkness, and isolation as each kingdom bolstered their defenses. it's entirely reasonable to believe that he doesn't know the whole sordid history of the silmarils, just that they're gems that morgoth prizes highly - which would be a pretty cool thing to steal! beren alone held dorthonion against morgoth for years, and then managed to pass into doriath: both incredible feats. it's not actually outside of the realm of possibility that beren with a team of elves could successfully infiltrate angband.

(cont again, this is off topic but it's another hot take i have) should finrod, who knew more about the politics at play and had seen morgoth's power firsthand, have told beren no? maybe. i think people make this out to be far more simple of a choice than it actually was, though. thingol knew exactly what he was doing when he asked for a silmaril; and finrod knew thingol knew. asking for a silmaril isn't the kind of thing you do when you're willing to be talked around. the most pragmatic thing for finrod to do would probably have been to just offer beren shelter in nargothrond (not luthien; he can't endanger his alliance with thingol when his people might need to flee to doriath); but beren wouldn't have stayed. given that, i think it was entirely reasonable for finrod to offer support and help, and ask his people to stand behind him. Everything that happened after that was an argument that spiraled wildly out of control (under the influence of the Doom of the Noldor probably...remember that the Noldor are fighting all the Valar in Middle-earth in one way or another, not just Morgoth).

and the final one, the kicker that i see a lot: "beren committed genocide against the dwarves of nogrod" - he...didn't? in fact i feel like he was the only one who reacted kinda proportionally during the ruin of doriath. thingol is an asshole (bad) - the dwarves kill him for it (bad) - the elves kill them back (...not entirely unreasonable? but bad) - the dwarves perform a FULL SCALE INVASION OF DORIATH (what the hell, seriously) and kill A LOT OF LUTHIEN'S PEOPLE - and then beren and lúthien, hearing that the dwarves of nogrod took an ENTIRE ARMY to LUTHIEN'S HOME and KILLED HER FATHER and SLAUGHTERED HER PEOPLE and are now leaving with LUTHIEN'S STUFF to do who-knows-what, attack them right back. which...is fair. in my opinion.

no h8 if u disagree with my beren opinions. but boy do i have them

[baked-potatoes-rule]

farming 1.0.1

Achievement : A Seedy Place

These two would fight over who's the top and I will die on that hill. Hold my monocle tyvm.

[seismicsight]

there's a twitter post that says any character under 5'7 is child coded, and that may apply to toph

I had to double-take at this one, because she IS A CHILD in the show. I guess this refers to adult Toph in LoK, who remains under 5’7” her entire life, to which I say “thank goodness I don’t care what randoms on Twitter are shouting about at any given moment.” Are folks really saying that every short person in fiction is child-coded, or just in some specific cases? If it’s the former, LMAO they need to touch some grass. If it’s the latter, then yeah there are probably some examples where this is one of MANY traits that -when added up- suggest coding to avoid the censors. But this alone is not a hill to die on.

Excuse my attitude, but I’m not interested in armchair literary analysis that ignores relevant context or advocates for censorship without giving people the tools to consume their media critically. I’m too old to engage in discourse of this nature with the kind of rabid self-assurance that chronically-online folks conjure up. While in this case, I’m sure there are examples of short stature (among OTHER things like voice, mannerisms, and personality) being used -particularly in the dark depths of the anime subculture- to appeal to the creeps in the audience… painting with a broad brush is not it, chief.

If this was applied to, say, real people, it breaks down immediately. Also, 5’7” is such an arbitrary, and frankly colonial yardstick for such discussions, since the average adult height varies wildly across different global populations. But that’s beside the point.

Does child-coding of “adult” characters happen in media? Oh yeah definitely, it’s sometimes blatantly obvious. And creepy. If it looks, sounds, and acts like a duck…

But do I think that applying a single, ridiculous requirement to determine this is useful at all? No. Short folks already get infantilized as is, they don’t need people screaming about every short character on TV too. It’s reductive and frankly, lazy.

TL;DR While I’m sure there are examples of subtle coding devices being used to pass a character off as “a child in everything but name” to appeal to the creeps, making up arbitrary and reductive ‘rules’ to suss out such things uncritically or in broad strokes does more harm than good. It’s like trying to identify a witch by whether a person has extra nipples (Google it) or sinks rather than floats when tied up and throw in a river. It’s not only an impractical and imprecise measuring tool that can yield false positives, but can be wielded against innocents by bloodthirsty zealots.

So yeah, I think Toph can be kept out of this conversation, tyvm.

[chocoenvy]

so what ur saying is Fischl has two new moms who are hazards to society ✍️

IM GLAD IM NOT THE ONLY ONE WHO SEES HER AS TRANS THOUGH LIKE MOOD. transfem fischl 🤝 transmasc bennet 🤝 transneu razor

but also the awkward family dinner with Rhinedottir + Alice and their other kids and Fischl's parents 😭

Alice has to physically restrain Rhinedottir from commiting numerous war crimes the entire time but she's just like oh that's just how she is :) isn't she just adorable :)

also Oz is her service animal / emotional support animal and ill die on this hill tyvm

n Fischl & Klee are best friends canon proves me right once again. Klee thinks she's really cool n looks up to her especially once she gets basically adopted by Alice & Rhinedottir. because now she has a cool older sister and she tells EVERYONE. everyone will appreciate her super cool sister or else🔪 - eros

oh my god chronically thinking of feral rhinedottir and unhinged Alice as her handler to make sure she doesn't commit mass murder

Bro i just want Fish to get the childhood she never got bc not to make this about myself I get so upset I didn't have the boy childhood sometimes, like bro i fucking hate gender roles but i WANTED that classic boy childhood man

So Rhine and Alice making Fischl the Princess she never got to be when she was little... I'm tearing up man. Rhine irl blocking everyone that makes fun of Fish or makes her uncomfortable or anything im <333

ALSO YES HI Oz is 100% the emotional support bird. I read Fischl's story on how she got her vision but it's been a while, I think he's a manifestation made by her vision??? Not too confident on that but either way he's her best friend! No matter what happens there's always Oz who will see her as Fischl, who will see her as a princess.

Meanwhile her parents don't understand why she wants to live out this fantasy, they gave her a good childhood, she should be grateful! But... it's not the childhood she wanted. It was good! But she just...wished it were different.

And that's what Rhine and Alice are giving her!

Klee is like "My sister is a princess!! She's so cool!!"

And fish acts all cool but every time someone calls her a princess or call her Fischl or any variation she just :> She thinks about it a lot

And then more and more people start doing it and soon it's a normal occurence and there's too many to think about-

and she's really The Prinsezzin of a faraway kingdom, one that Alice and Rhine are giving her. And her body, her personality, everything about Fischl that she once hated and ridiculed, are now something she can love.

Even if she's not "in-character" all the time, she's not ❏❏❏. She's still Fischl. She'll always be Fischl, because that's just who she is.

And even if some ridicule her and say she's not the Prinzessin, and even if Fischl sometimes thinks she's not a princess and she's just some stupid girl named ❏❏❏ with stupid fantasies of living a happy life, Alice and Rhine are there. Even if she doesn't think so, she'll always be a princess to them <3

[tenya]

not embarrassed to admit that I smiled like an idiot when I saw the sparkles on castform lol

[redrobin-detective]

But, but, but Tumblr says KaiAo is Toxic and Problematic-

I literally don’t care. I love all the DCMK canon couples so much. I don’t even like the romance aspect of most shows but the idiots in DCMK drive me wild. 

I know you’re being teasing but KaitAo, like most of the main ships, have its problems but damn if the idea of Kaito/Kid the mythical untouchable phantom being caught and held down to Earth by the fiery daughter of the inspector out to catch him is asdfghjklsdfghvdsdfghjk so good.

[lesbianraggedyanne]

me logging in to find ppl advocating for the death penalty and vigilante justice like theyre in a comic book with no consequences for human life or rights

[tyrseward]

this just in: local fic writer cannot stop thinking about this post he made & has decided to make it canon to line in the sand. the concept will be in the fic, but this scene in particular will likely not, as i am still working things out for the dragons in this fic... but it’s still a fun little thing so i thought i’d share :) 

kyrsess is the green dragon pictured in my icon, size is not accurate to what’s written here (was drawn before i decided to bring more dragons into this story)

“Wait,” Merlin says, brows furrowed as he glances between Kilgharrah and Kyrsess. “If you’re barely an adult, how are you so much larger than Kilgharrah?”

Kyrsess’ lips quirk into something Merlin imagines must be a smile, and she watches Kilgharrah with bright, mischievous eyes.

“I am...” Kilgharrah says, with clear reluctance, “quite smaller than the average dragon.”

Oh. Merlin bites his lip, doing his very best to not burst into laughter. Though, Kyrsess’ full-body wiggle makes that difficult.

“Indeed,” she agrees, “my parents were closer to average size, and I still have a few years left of growing before I reach that point.”

“That’s...” he pauses, takes a deep, slow breath beneath the heat of Kilgharrah’s glare. “That is very interesting information.”

“I’m sure,” Kilgharrah responds, then stalks off, head held high. As though trying to appear taller.

Merlin breaks, muffling his giggles into his jacket sleeve. Beside him, Kyrsess looks far too pleased with herself.

“He’s quite tiny, really,” she adds, with another full-body wiggle.

He wheezes.

[endfght]

+ @hallowburnt   & .   chrissie  mackinley .   sc  \  not  accepting .

      𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐬𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧   𝐨𝐟   𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠   ( 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭 )   𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞  -  𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠   𝐠𝐨𝐚𝐥   𝐟𝐞𝐥𝐭   𝐟𝐚𝐫   𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞   𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫   𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧   𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 .      with  the  hewitt’s   dead   or   locked  away,   dean  had  no  further  ties  to  texas  aside  from  chrissie .   two  people  taken  from  them  far  too  early,   case  solved   far  too  late,   the  cannibal  family  would  no  longer  have  any   victims,   but  there  was  no  way  that  they  could  get  eric  or  bailey   back .   ❛   so,      𝐰𝐞   𝐝𝐢𝐝   𝐢𝐭 .   ❜   voice  dry  despite  thirst  quenched  by  beer  in  hand,   done  not  without  help  of  course,   but   their  job  well  done   nonetheless .   apprehension  came  and  went  like  a   flash  of  lightning   and  they  were  left  exactly  where  they  were :   the  balcony  of  dean’s  small  apartment  with  a  small  cooler  between  the  two  of  them,   ash  tray  rested  on  top .

      𝐛𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞   𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐝,      𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠   𝐬𝐢𝐩   𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐧   𝐭𝐨   𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐥   𝐭𝐡𝐞   𝐦𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭'𝐬   𝐬𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 .      they’d  spent   so  much   of  their  lives  devoted  to  ending  the  horrible  shit - show  that  the  hewitt’s  ran  in  texas,   and   for  what ?   the  gratification  of  seeing  it  come  to  an   end   seemed   not  enough .   all  the  time  spent  searching  for  answers  was  time   wasted   instead  of  attempting  to  start  something   new,   spent  hovering  in  the  past  instead  of  moving  on .   now  it  felt   impossible   to  let  go  of  them .   ❛   does  it  feel      𝒂𝒔   𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒕𝒕𝒚      for  you ?   ❜   breathless  laughter  falls  flat  in  the  air  as  he  musters  enough  courage  to  finally  look  over  at  her .   ❛   i  know  we  did  a   good   thing,   ❜   trails  off,   hand  raises  to  scratch   uncomfortably   at  his  jaw .   ❛   i  thought   gettin’  ‘em   would  be  different .   stupid-   i  thought  it’d  help   fill  that  hole   they  ripped  out,   y’know ?   ❜

[bisexualryder]

y’know part of me wants to say cullen develops a bit of a crush on olivia (before he realizes she’ll never be interested in the same way) bc i’m self-indulgent trash but part of me also wants to say “why’s he gotta develop a crush? why can’t they just forever and always be good friends and more like family and shit”.

then i remind myself i don’t need to impress anyone so like, fuck it, self-indulgence wins. and while yep they totally end up with a close, familial like relationship there’s an early stage where he’s blushy and awkward until varric spills the beans on what he heard the lady inquisitor’s preferences are bc he’s a lil shit that knows too much but also olivia is many things but subtle about anything, including her sexuality, is not one of em.