#it’s like crappy robot writing

[sensei-venus]

I need someone to actually go back and rewrite all the Karate Kid books, like right now. I just got done reading the second book along with the side movie book The Next Karate Kid.

They are just… bluh!

I need someone to actually go back and write it with feeling and description. They where so bland it’s not even funny. I’m actually mad. Wtf.

[animezinglife]

I have one rule.

One.

No AI.

It's in bold and all-caps on the first page of the syllabus.

Guess what I had a student use.

[riddlesb1tch]

Bad Day

Cazriel x reader

summary: you wake up feeling crappy about yourself and your mates talk you out of that mentality.

warnings: none!

a/n: this is my first time writing a Cazriel fic so please lmk how I did! thanks :)

You’d woken up this morning to an empty bed feeling especially shitty. Both your mates were already gone for the day by the time you had awoken and honestly, you were glad about it. You didn’t think you had the energy to smile and greet them today with your chirpy attitude and sweet good-morning kisses. Your heart was simply too heavy for that. Why? You did not have an answer. It was just one of those days where living with yourself seemed like a burden, a day where you wished you could freaky Friday into someone else, and have a new body, voice, personality, and experiences just for one day. 

Sadly enough, that was impossible, so you hauled yourself out of bed and went to the bathroom. Your hair was as messed up as a bird had built a nest in it, your skin seemed pale and lifeless as if you’d risen from your grave, and you had dark circles as if you hadn’t slept in a month. Overall, you felt like crying at your appearance. 

And you did.

Involuntarily, tears sprung to your eyes, and you closed them to relieve the stinging. You would not allow the tears to fall. If they don’t fall, they don’t exist, you told yourself and carried out the rest of your morning routine with robotic movements. You knew that comparison was the killer of happiness, yet you couldn’t help when thoughts of your beautiful friends appeared in your head. How do they look first thing in the morning? You wondered. Certainly prettier. Like sleeping beauty did in the forest; beautiful enough that the prince wanted to kiss her. Even you wouldn’t spare yourself a second glance first thing in the morning. You wondered why Cassian and Azriel always said you were the most stunningly beautiful female they had ever seen. Surely, they were lying. 

Sighing at yourself, you stared at the outfit you had chosen for today. An incredibly unremarkable fit comprised of one of Azriel’s t-shirts that reached your mid-thighs and some loose shorts. You weren’t planning on seeing anyone today. 

However, people seemed to have other plans since, as soon as you exited the bathroom, you heard the voices of males talking in the living room. Cassian and Azriel were back. Not only their voices but the golden string attaching your souls sang in bliss at the proximity. 

Feeling a little happier, you headed into the living room. They sat on opposite couches, conversing about some dinner coming between the High Lords of Prythian when you walked in. Their heads tuned to you with beaming smiles which you couldn’t help but reciprocate. 

“Hey, sweetheart,” Cassian boomed chirpily, coming to approach you. 

He hugged your waist tightly, lifting you off the ground completely and spinning you in a circle. Normally, this tactic would result in a fit of giggles and laughter and telling Cassian to put you down, but today you did not have the energy so you simply smiled. 

Cassian set you down with furrowed brows and Azriel approached as well noticing your unusual behaviour. 

“Are you feeling okay, angel?” Azriel asked, coming up behind you. 

You nodded timidly, mumbling a quiet, “I’m fine” but of course, neither of your mates believed you. You could feel they were trying to reach you down the bond but you had blocked your feelings from them to spare yourself from having to explain. 

“If you’re fine, why aren’t you letting us in?” Azriel asked. “Angel you know you talk to us, right?” he said softly, rubbing your back in support. 

You looked down, not having the bravado to look them in the eye while you admitted you didn’t feel fine. 

“I just kinda feel like shit today,” you muttered, fidgeting with the hem of your shirt. 

Azriel and Cassian shared a look with one another before Cassian gently held your hand. 

“Come sit with us, princess,” he said softly and led you to the couch. He sat down and pulled you onto his lap, one hand staying on your back rubbing comforting circles with the other stroking your thigh. 

Azriel took a seat next to Cassian, facing you with empathetic eyes. 

“Tell us, angel. Why do you feel shitty?” Azriel asked.

You simply shrugged, looking down at your hands. “Woke up feeling this way and it's not going away. I guess it's just one of those days.” 

Azriel hummed in understanding. 

“But,” Cassian said. “What is making you feel shitty?” 

“Me,” you whispered as tears sprung to your eyes. “Because I don’t like the way I look.” You buried your face in your hands to hide the onslaught of tears. 

Azriel and Cassian’s hearts broke. Cassian held you tighter to his chest while you cried in your hands, kissing your head. 

“What's not to like, angel?” Azriel asked. He pulled your hands away from your face, bringing them up to his lips. “Look at you, you’re beautiful,” he tilted your chin up so you’d make eye contact with him. 

“I’m not-” You took a deep breath. “I’m not as beautiful as Feyre, or Nesta, or Mor,” you said quietly. 

“Well, of course not!” Cassian sounded slightly outraged but what he said broke your heart and confirmed your suspicions. “Princess, what is it that you always say about people? No two beauties are alike. You have a beauty completely unique to you. No one can replicate it, imitate it, or upstage it, princess,” he said softly now, firmly kissing your temple. 

“Exactly,” Azriel agreed, grasping your hands in his own. “Only you have that stunning smile and beautiful laugh, and those pretty eyes that shine like the stars on Starfall, and that perfect body that houses your soul. No one else can be what you are, angel, so stop comparing yourself to them.” 

Your mates’ beautiful words brought a smile to your face and lifted your spirits. You smiled at the two males, slightly nodding at their words. 

“Thank you,” you said. 

“No need to thank us,” Cassian firmly kissed your cheek. “We’re always here for our girl.” 

That brought a genuine, beaming smile to your face, and you could tell by their expressions, Azriel and Cassian were completely smitten by it. By a smile only you had. 

[talesfrommedinastation]

My redneck neighbor Doug's interpretations on various 'Bad Batch' characters: Side Character Edition!

I'm chuffed that everyone thinks my neighbor Doug is funny: he really is a gem. I had no idea we'd bond over Star Wars and crappy weather, but here we are.

Naturally, I had to bother him about other characters that showed up on The Bad Batch, so, here we go!

Phee Genoa: Ah-ha, that there’s Church Lady. You know her, she’s got a big square in her pocketbook and you don’t know if it’s pound cake or a brick, because the Lord saves but He can’t help you in the alley when you’re in Treme and the streetlights just turned on. She has two ex-husbands who are both preachers and they turned to Jesus because they are so scared of Church Lady in court. 

(So I guess he’s saying Phee has raw WHO DAT energy, for my Saints fans out there)

Cid: Looking at this fat lizard bitch makes me hungry. I call that one Houma-BBQ because I’m guessing we could feed a whole parish fire station based on the size of her tail. I wish she’d shut up, she reminds me of my mother-in-law. 

Cad Bane: Homeboy looks like a Sesame Street character who teaches Big Bird about concealed carry laws. I call him Gun Safety Muppet. I don’t like him because he shot my Wife and I’s Boyfriend on the other show and his robot needs to be tossed into a wood chipper. 

(“I’m not gay, but Jenny and I…well, we would make an exception to that man. You ever see ‘Deadwood’? Man is fine. I’m not GAY.”)

Fennec Shand: That’s The Chick that’s in Everything. She was on ER and Boba Fett and I think a Marvel show too? I like her. Hope she kills Gun Safety Muppet and hurls his blue ass into a dumpster. 

Howzer: That’s my niece’s boyfriend, Jorge. We all love Jorge, nice guy, owns an auto repair shop and always remembers plates and napkins for the cookouts after church.

Gregor: Jorge’s cousin, Manny. Met him once at Christmas in Miami, nice guy, only drinks brown liquor and insists everyone arm wrestle him. But he’s got a good job as a PE teacher, we respect education, come on now. 

The Martez Sisters: Aw, man, it’s Jorge’s Unemployed Sisters. I hate it when they show up for Christmas and get into fights with my momma. 

(“Doug, you know they’re not related to the clones at all, right?” “Says who?” “The PLOT?” “Eh, they’ll change it, just watch.”)

Mayday: Aw, I liked this guy so much! That’s Sassy Park Ranger, he’s the type that gives you your camping permits, warns you about the bears, and then is all disappointed when you don’t properly stow your food and the bears destroy the campsite. I need to go back to Little River Canyon, that place was pretty. 

Lt. Nolan: THAT STUPID BLOND JACKASS. (Doug was so enraged by the guy he had nothing else to add. Damn.)

Senator Chuchi: Why does this lady make me want a blue slushie? I’ll call her the Sonic Special. They need more Sonics here in the north, they really do. 

Cody: That’s Obi-Wan’s Boyfriend, he’s sad all the time. We know why. (Confirmed that Doug is a Codywan shipper and I don’t know what to do about that)

Royce Hemlock: Is that Jimmy Neutron after he grew up and became one of those guys that’s on the internet all the time writing creepy things? It’s Jimmy-the-Scientist. He looks like the type of person dogs get weird around.

Rex: That's Rex. He's a king. Respect him.

[zahri-melitor]

Batman v Ra's Al Ghul, by Neal Adams: A Bronze Age fever dream of a comic, written in 2019-2021.

Neal Adams caps off his over 50 year career with DC comics by...them letting him write a book for the first time in a decade.

Now, Adams is famous for his Bronze Age artwork, not his writing, and it's deservedly so: this is not the comic you would pick up if you were interested in award winning writing. But I have to say, it's actually something far more fun than 'good writing'.

I think the easiest way to describe the incredibly wild vibes of this title are 'Adams writes a multiverse Bronze Age time travel AU fic', where the cast technically consists of a modern set of characters (Dick is Nightwing and both Tim and Damian are Robin), but all of the characters are drawn, talking and acting like they just walked off a page in 1974 or so.

For assistance, that's: Dick in the yellow with the very 70s black vest; Tim in the blue t-shirt; Damian in the red t-shirt; and Bruce in the suit. You end up keeping track of them in this title by their haircuts.

Bruce and Damian here cannot remember anything about being Batman and Robin; Dick and Tim appear to have shown up with a fantastical story that cannot be proven (as I said, this has INCREDIBLE reality hopping AU vibes).

Some of the characters have been mindwiped. Some of the characters are robot duplicates. A whole list of characters Adams helped create show up largely because he created them (seriously Kirk and Francine Langstrom show up for a couple of pages mostly to give Dick and Tim an airlift into a difficult to reach entrance to the Cave). Nobody sounds particularly in character at any point, but that's not really a problem in this comic, because what it really is is a giant jolt of Bronze Age style writing nostalgia direct to the brainstem.

They don't make comics like this anymore and reading one written in the 2020s like this reinforces why.

Deadman's brother Aaron and sister Zeea show up; his brother is busy pretending to be an alternate Australian version of Batman called Marvin O'Hearn, and his sister is a psychic running around in the most 70s outfit imaginable controlling things and mindwiping Bruce on Ra's orders.

(And yes, if you too just asked 'Boston Brand has siblings???' the answer is 'kinda sorta but definitely not these two', however given Adams was writing Boston in 1968 at one point he's got as much right as anyone else to claim there are additional siblings)

There's a group who PRETEND to be the Court of Owls but secretly are a group of industrialists called The Money who want to control the world via paying for legislators, judges and industry (and yes I realise that sounds exactly like the Court's thing, but Adams was almost 80 when he wrote this, he can have an expy Court if he wants one).

Bruce pretends to be Matches for a good chunk of the back end of this comic and it actually acknowledges that Matches Malone was a real gangster before he died and Bruce stole his identity (something other writers and the fandom often forget), because Adams wants one more spin with the character he designed.

There's also a moment in the sixth issue where one of Ra's pet scientists tries to sell a panel of Gotham execs on a perpetual motion machine based on electrolysis as his replacement for the current Gotham power generators and at this point I lost it giggling at the portrayal of Ra's as a cheap charlatan.

(There is also a sneaky joke that only works if you know what British salad cream is; there's this sequence of the kids talking about Alfred making sandwiches with 'crappy salad dressing' instead of mayonnaise, only this tray has been made with mayo...and it's a hint that Alfred has been replaced by a robot. I laughed; I suspect it might be non-obvious to American audiences)

This is not a comic to read if you are interested in 'main continuity' or 'coherence' or even 'good writing'. However if you want some wild antics that feel like someone's 3am fanfic AU written in pure Bronze Age vibes and to see the last work of one of Ra's Al Ghul's creators? Give it a chance. You'll never be able to predict what's on the next page.

[edupiii]

im distraught by the fact Murder Drones is ending, so to make me (and possibly you) feel better, here are:

Some Random MD Character Head Cannons!

Most of these are goofy silly and aren’t really that important, but I wanted to share them anyways :3

　　*･゜ﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*･'(*ﾟ▽ﾟ*)'･*:.｡. .｡.:*･゜ﾟ･*

Uzi 🦇

- uses she/they pronouns but is fine with being referred to with other pronoun sets. however, they don’t like to be referred to as it/it’s since this set was used in a derogatory way towards her when they were younger (still sometimes is)

- has autism + ADHD but is not accommodated for it in school

- her guilty pleasure anime is Ouran High School Hostclub (kiss kiss fall in love!)

- had a My Little Pony phase when they were younger and even made a pony sona. When she’s tired and can’t sleep, she puts on their favourite mlp episodes and listens to them while they fall asleep

- is a Warrior Cats kid

- listens to hyper-pop and scene music along with their usual rock, goth, scream-o and night core songs

- is a passionate artist but has kept her sketch books and digital drawings hidden from others ever since they were mocked for drawing “cringey stuff” in elementary school. They still draw when she has free time and she has become more comfortable sharing their art work again (though mostly only with N)

- has multiple fursonas

- also has a crap tone of ocs with super traumatic backstories

- loves to watch crappy horror movies because she laughs at the dumb choices the stupid human protagonists make. however if N is ever over for a sleepover, she’ll refrain from suggesting any scary movies since they know he doesn’t like horror

- they were picked on for having a unconventional name at a young age, but when she found out it was the name of a firearm, she began to believe she had the coolest name out of all of their peers

- knows all of the FNAF game and book lore and will talk about it if given the chance to

- wants tattoos and piercings but thinks they would look weird or bad on her since they’re a robot. to compensate, they occasionally will put super cool stickers she finds on her plating

- has extensive knowledge on Pokémon types weaknesses and strengths

- writes and reads fanfic

- after Nori passed, young Uzi would try to talk to Khan about mechanical engineering just so he would pay attention to them

- Uzi and Thad were decent friends in kindergarten and elementary school, however they grew apart due to their differing personalities and social groups as they got older. Uzi believes that Thad did this on purpose to preserve his popularity. Thad is not aware of this belief.

- already had intrusive thoughts before the Solver was activated, but they became more aggressive and disturbing after it awoke

- despite enjoying getting work done in silence or listening to music, they find that she works better when N is nearby talking about anything. it’s like a comforting white noise

- has a bad habit of challenging V to anything and everything. this is simply because they know V won’t back out, guaranteeing a fun yet quite spiteful competition for the two

N 🐶

- mainly uses he/him pronouns but is open to multiple pronoun sets

- has ADHD and social anxiety

- whenever he hears classical music, his anxiety spikes a bit as it reminds him of his time in the Elliot Manor

- knows how to slow dance but isn’t very good at it

- before Tessa repaired him, N was originally discarded due to his lack of boundaries with humans (aka, speaking casually to them/out of turn), and his clumsiness

- is the fastest of the DD trio

- he doesn’t really enjoy anime as much as Uzi does but he really likes western cartoons like Adventure Time, The Owl House, Craig of the Creek, etc.

- very much dislikes horror in any form (have it be in a movie, video game, book, etc)

- likes to watch nature documentaries, however he skips the bits when an animal dies or is hurt because he feels bad for them

- doesn’t enjoy loud noises or shouting, however he makes an exception for Uzi and V when they yell out in excitement

- knows an ungodly amount of information regarding dogs, wolves or just canines in general. he will start talking about them if ever given the chance

- he doesn’t always understand some things Uzi talks about but he listens anyways since he enjoys her voice and company

- brings V out to social gatherings in the bunker in an effort to get her more aquatinted with the colony and make the workers feel more comfortable around her. However his efforts are in vein since by the end of the party, V is standing against a wall gabbing with Lizzy and every other drone is avoiding her

- N has tried to learn about football so he could play with Thad and his team, but he didn’t understand the rules in the slightest and worried about tackling Worker Drones and potentially hurting them

- when him and Uzi first had a sleepover, he wandered around her room and asked about all the trinkets, plushies, books and posters they had

- draws whenever he gets the chance and gifts his doodles to his friends

- isn’t very good at fighting games, but loves playing games like Stardew Valley, Animal Crossing and Spiritfarer

- whenever at sleepovers, N tries to get everyone (usually Uzi, V, Lizzy, and Thad) to play Just Dance or do karaoke of Disney songs

- vocal stims words he thinks sound interesting

- he often feels as though he speaks too much, so he usually apologizes when talking about something he likes or just knows a lot about. Uzi and him have actually developed a thing where if he feels like he’s been talking for too long, he will give her a thumbs up to which she will respond with two thumbs up, letting him know that he’s good to keep talking and doesn’t need to apologize

- really wants to find out where all the immortal dogs had been put so he can go visit them

V 🦊

- uses she/her pronouns but she is okay with they/them pronouns too

- has generalized anxiety disorder

- when she was a worker in the Elliot Manor, she kept quiet to avoid upsetting or disturbing any of the humans around her. even when spoken to, she would speak as little as possible

- before Tessa repaired her, V was originally discarded due to her poor vision and skittishness around humans

- always found her maid uniform to be stuffy, irritating, and incredibly hard to move in, hence why now she doesn’t wear pants or anything constricting

- remembers the entirety of her Solver transformation but isn’t able to remember much of her time being possessed by the Solver

- she is physically the strongest of the DD trio

- whenever she is introduced to someone new (have that be through N or Lizzy), her first response is to try and intimidate them by saying unsettling things or bringing out some of her weapons. this is her way of judging the individuals character and helps her decide if she actually wants to be around them or not. due to this way of introduction, her friend circle is very small and many workers avoid her as much as possible

- tries to avoid affection or comfort from others as much as possible since she doesn’t know how to physically or emotionally react to it

- also try’s to avoid comforting others since she doesn’t believe she’s very good at it (she’s not good at it but she’s learning lol)

- thanks to Uzi, V now likes to listen to J-Pop and vocaloid

- whenever she is genuinely complimented she sputters a bit but will quickly respond with something along the lines of “i already knew that” or “and it took you this long to notice?”

- V is still unsettled by Uzis wings and tail as it is a continuous reminder of her own transformation. she’s become a lot more used to them being present but they still cause her to twitch uncomfortably

- doesn’t enjoy parties or sleepovers but if N, Lizzy or Uzi invite her to one, she has a bit of difficulty saying an honest no. she’ll suffer through the social interaction to make the few people she cares about tolerates happy

- unlike N and Uzi, she enjoys hunting for her oil and feels embarrassed when it is given to her in a canister. in private, she will go out and hunt for a bot or two from a different colony, however she doesn’t torture her prey like she used to

- V will occasionally put on her prom dress and strut around in it because it makes her feel good

- she isn’t very good at video games, but if challenged to a fighting game, she can’t say no

J 🐯

- uses she/her pronouns (trans women btw)

- experiences imposter syndrome quite frequently and when this happens, she will become more strict with her peers in hopes that the overcompensation will cause others to not question her authority or ability. This applies to both her time in the Elliot Manor and her time being the DD trio leader

- acted as Tessa’s main assistant at the manor, helping her keep on schedule and debriefing her on the days tasks. despite her attempts to keep Tessa on track, J found both herself and her human companion getting sucked into whatever nonsense Tessa wanted to do

- before Tessa repaired her, J had been originally discarded due to her unwelcoming attitude and overly strict demeanour

- J likes to draw but she doesn’t/didn’t often have the free time to sit down and doodle

- has the most difficulty remembering what happened at Elliot Manor since she is the most in line with her original programming

- is the main strategist of the DD trio

- would practice her monologues when she flew alone and would try them out on unsuspecting prey

- pitched the idea of keeping count of kills to V, which created a not so friendly competition between the two. N attempted to join but would forget to track how many kills he got during each hunt

- once on Copper-9, she found herself getting homesick fairly often. despite her workaholic tendencies, she misses the days of goofing off with Tessa

- J has a large skill set when it comes to her arsenal. V prefers her claws and blades while N prefers his blades and guns, but she doesn’t prefer one weapon over the other(s) because she is well versed in using all of them

That’s all for now!

　　　　　　　･:*+.\(( °ω° ))/.:+

[wasted-women]

ROUND 1C, MATCH 3 OUT OF 8!

Causes of Death & Propaganda Under the Cut:

Tara Maclay

Cause of Death: Shot in crossfire

Propaganda:

Ok so idk if she actually counts but I'm submitting her and please throw her out if not. Here's why I think Tara was fridged: the sole purpose of her death was to further the plot and cause pain to other characters. Now, because it's Buffy, these other characters were women. So her death was only to cause pain to her girlfriend (ex-girlfriend? They were broken up but mending) Willow, cause her to relapse into magic, and then make her essentially the big bad of the season. All of this was then to cause Buffy, the protag, to have to fight her best friend and be told she needed to either stop her or kill her. So while Buffy and Willow are both women, Tara's death was solely to cause them pain as significant other and protagonist and to further the plot. (It's also bury your guys and Joss Whedon sooooo). Tara literally was killed sloppily for no other reason than as a plot device in a desperate "well we already killed our protag and brought her back to life, how do we raise the stakes from here" ploy necessitated by crappy writing. If she doesn't count, again please throw her out, but I feel like she counts as fridging esp when looking at how Joss Whedon rights Buffy in this season to essentially bc a self insert of man pain but as a woman.

this is the only lgbt example I can think of but it definitely counts imo. link to death scene here (scene starts a minute into the video, with obvious trigger warnings for death and blood and gunshots): https://youtu.be/01NxsKojYyM?si=dxZvcvOhp3x6S8ha

Stuffing a woman in the fridge is one thing, but stuffing a queer woman who was one half of a beloved same-sex couple on a TV show famous for its strong female characters for the sake of drama while enforcing negative LGBT+ stereotypes in the process is really something else.

Her girlfriend, Willow essentially plays the role of the man in the relationship. Tara dies to facilitate her villain arc. Xander is also sad about her death and he is a man.

Mako Mori

Cause of Death: Exploded in a helicopter

Propaganda:

The Mako Mori test has been proposed as a "better" version of the Bechdel Test (which I'm well aware of the bechdel tests point and common misuse) she has a full, rich arc that is not romance oriented in the first movie. Also she pilots a giant robot. In the second movie she's textbook definition fridged.

Daenerys Targareon

Cause of Death: Stabbed by her lover for becoming a tyrant

Propaganda:

I'm just. I can't believe she hasn't been submitted yet. Classic example of end game fridging, where she *had* to be killed by her male lover to bring him pain and Man Tears TM. Clearly it effects him (sad) more than her (dead). Now obv Dany had a whole plot prior to this, but her death itself is such a classic example of fridging that I have to submit her, it legit only happened for a stupid "plot" to bring Jon ManPain. It was a death so stupid that GOT, what once was a cultural touchstone, isn't talked about except in how bad the end was

[numbuh-1507]

Some time ago, I made a journal (https://www.furaffinity.net/journal/10927368) stating how I’m getting worried about what might happen in the upcoming Jellystone! crossover special.

Basically, Joesanchez has told me that, due to the “mean-spirited” nature of the show, the episode might end with all of the 19 universes featured on it being erased from existence forever. It doesn’t help that 1. it’s named after a DC crossover event that did the same thing; 2. in real life Cartoon Network lost their studio and their website, so the special ending with all the classics being purged could be sort of a “Reality Subtext”.

Besides, DC already eliminated the 2003 Teen Titans series in the recent animated adaptation of Infinite Earths, so it’s not out of the question that Warner Bros is willing to greenlight this special not to celebrate Cartoon Network, but to tell everyone “Here, Robot Jones’ world is gone forever, which means we don’t have to make a sequel or reboot of it ever. Tough break.” This will be the ultimate “Torch the Franchise(s) and Run”.

The worst part is that the crappy CN shows such as Steven Universe and Gumball are not part of this special, which means they’ll get to survive even though they don’t deserve it. We will have to endure more of their beanmouth styles and crappy tumblr fanfiction writing that makes Hazbin Hotel look like a masterpiece in comparison. At least actually good shows were also spared like Generator Rex and Infinity Train… which isn’t saying much considering their real life fates.

Of course, there is the possibility that I’ll be proven wrong and the special has a decent ending (for Jellystone! standards anyway) that will do these characters justice, and I’ve wasted my time drawing this and writing this rant about your precious CalArts Style crap. But for now, it looks like it’s curtains for Dexter, Aron City, Cow and Chicken, Townsville, Peach Creek, the Time Squad, Samurai Jack, Robot Jones, Endsville, Bunny Island, Sector V, Foster’s, Camp Kidney, Charles Darwin Middle School, Ben Tennyson, Marzipan City, Stormalong Harbor, the Land of Ooo, the park and 18 years of continuity. It’s the Super Genesis Wave all over again, and this time is personal.

All of these belong to Warner Bros. Discovery. Art based off a panel of DC’s Infinite Crisis.

 “24 hours, 7 days a week, from now to the end of times”… which turned out to be 2024.

You must be wondering though, why is Yogi crying? You’ll see soon enough.

[choking-on-ice]

South Park College Headcanons

I lost power for most to the day today, so I sat at a coffee shop and just killed time writing down headcanons for every SP character I could think of.

there's alot of them, but hopefully somebody out there finds these fun

Butters

Gender fluid / non-conforming

Saved up enough to move into dorms away from their parents

Autistic and very gullible still

has learned to stand up for themself and their friends better

Got fed up in senior year and spiked Cartman's drink w/ laxatives and locked him outside at a house party

Ppl secretly fear them a lil after that

Kept their baby face and a bit of chub

Still plays for Stan's death metal band

has a strange relationship w/ Kyle (who's grappling w/ some denied queerness)

still an absolute sweetheart

drinks at parties and smokes w/ friends, even tho everyone assumes they dont

their parents still totally suck

Kenny

revolving door of jobs cuz he gets bored easily, but is always selling weed on the side

Ran into more drug problems through highschool after his troubles cheesing

Went to rehab with Tweek and Stan, got clean, and is closer to them than ever before now

Butters stood by him at the peak of his addiction and now he would (and probably has) jump in front of a bullet for him

Joined the robotics club in HS

Pursuing an engineering degree w/ an academic scholarship

Still works as Mysterion, just w/out the undies over his pants

thinks it's funny to cockblock his friends

is kind of a player, but not a dick abt it

flirts alot, thinks it's fun to flirt w/ Tweek and Butters bc they never grew immune to his BS like the others

the idea of one of them reciprocating any flirting is terrifying to him tho

cuz he has a massive inferiority complex and lives in denial that he has real romantic feelings for anyone

ultimate rizz

Stan

Still fronts his death metal band

hopeless romentic

Bonded w/ Tweek over their crappy home lives when Tweek starts delivering to Tegridy Farm

Grew closer w/ Kenny when he found out he was in the same rehab program as him and Tweek

stronk farmboy, also p tanned which juxtaposes his alt style

Opens up to smoking weed in college now that he's sober

emotionally intelligent

NOT emotionally communicative / available tho

bottles stuff up

only knows how to vent when drunk, then later thru music

Kyle

jaded w/ a chip on his shoulder

prone to knee jerk reactions

throws hands at the drop of a hat

usually throws the first punch

kept playing sports after hs - football in college and basketball recreationally

did debate w/ wendy in HS

still bffs with stan, even tho they dont have many shared hobbies anymore

Craig

autistic

rizzless

doesn't rlly need game tho cuz he's only had eyes for Tweek, and Tweek's a mess

monotone + flat expression intimidates some people

has rep of being an asshole, it's only half true

is considered rebellious, but he just sees it as doing what he wants to do not what other ppl want him to

slow to anger, has never thrown the first punch

grew up to be tall and broad like his father at his age

his dad pushed him into playing football, after HS he only plays bc his friends are on the team and doesn't care much about winning

likes old school indie music, underground shows, and obscure bands, isn't pretentious about it tho

when Kenny tells him about the Tweek's drugging Tweek (and the rest of town) he loses it and has to get talked down from strangling Mr Tweek

Tweek

autistic + adhd

loves deathmetal, hardstyle EDM, death rap, and hardcore music in gen

bonds w/ Stan in late HS as he makes deliveries for the coffee shop up to the farm

Kenny and him are acquainted since Kenny delivers ingerdients to the shop

loves fantasy - LoTR, D&D, etc.

Trans FtM (cuz i am and i project onto my faves lol)

Finds out from Craig and Kenny that his parents have been drugging him w/ meth in the coffee since he was a child

spirals after this and has trouble trusting people, questioning everything and everyone in his life

becomes rlly close w/ Kenny and Stan when they all attend rehab together

moves out before HS even ends, couch surfing for the summer until he can move into the dorms

sobering up lets him gain some weight and he begins to look less sickly

I have more on the other characters, but I have arthritis and typing this much killed my fingers already. Hope u enjoyed if u got this far

[slashersgostabbystabstab]

Hold

I took a break from writing Xenomorph stuff and decided to play some DBD. To my surprise, I encountered a Singularity who (thanks to my username Singularity Plz <3 ) sacrificed everybody except me. Even wished me a Happy Birthday in endgame chat. It delighted me so much I couldn't stop smiling, so I wrote a fast and crappy fic but was too sleepy to actually post it.

It was written super fast under the influence of complete elation so as I said, it's no doubt crappy like literally there is no editing lol. I'll pump out better fics when I actually sit down and give myself a decent amount of time ^^

Reminder that short fics for Seven and Hux are always open!

Words: 1618

Out of all the killers you could have picked as your partner, you just had to go and choose the one that was guaranteed to give you little to no affection. Emphasis on the “no” part of that phrase. He was sure to never give you a sweet nor ardent kiss, let alone hug you properly with the limbs he constructed onto his body. Hell, he would never provide any comforting words if he miraculously tried to. It just wasn’t in his programming nor newfound awareness to show any sort of sentiment. 

But even with chances as low as yours, you really did try for his affections no matter how much of a beggar it made you seem. Thankfully nobody else was ever aware of your foolish advances. 

And foolish was how somebody may have referred to you as if they had become witness to the sight involving you and the egotistical robot you called your partner. While his grappling claw fiddled with the various buttons on the panel belonging to the cloning hub, you were seated beside him with eyes glued on his form. As you gave him your most intent stare that explored every region of his anatomy, Hux stood almost completely still with what could be considered an equally fixated stare. And he never once paid any mind to you. 

Hux never took notice of the way you watched him struggle with the machine’s panel, only being aware that your presence was in his own. If anything he made sure to push your attendance to the back of his CPU; at least that was what his inner voice tried to convince him on. And you could admittedly say that you didn’t mind it one bit, this being one of those moments where being with him was almost sufficient. 

Nonetheless you remained sitting on your crate with your eyes never tearing away from him. From the entirety that was his self-made, perfect body. A smile was present on your features whilst your chin lay on the palm of your hand that was supported by the other arm that was crossed. With how lovingly you gazed at the murderous machine, you once again thanked the Entity that no killer was in your radius to see this. Let alone a fellow survivor. 

Let alone Hux’s surveillance. 

Had the word foolish been in his vocabulary and had he been paying attention to you, you were sure he would have voiced his opinion on your pathetic ogling. But alas, he somehow did not have his eyes everywhere and did not once realize that you had now inched closer towards his figure. 

You unfolded your arms to instead place them on your lap, smile widening just a tad bit more before you took another few inches off the distance between you and him. With this new proximity you took the opportunity to glance down at his modular hook that dug into the metallic flooring of the colony ship. The robot always stood in the same exact spot every time he worked on the cloning hub, having caused a dent in the ground only visible when his hook moved from said location. 

Your eyes followed up the sharp weapon ever so slowly to admire every bit of rust, and dried blood, that coated it. Not paying much mind to those bits of his claw, your eyes resumed their trail to the rest of his limb that entangled his flesh around the machinery. Seeing as Hux still disregarded you despite your intense observing, you cleared your throat loud enough to call out to him. But the only thing to come from Hux was the whirring sounds of his machine parts moving, signaling that he had not gone into sleep mode. Meaning he intentionally was keeping his attention on the cloning hub’s screen. 

You gave another clear of your throat with a slightly faltered smile, but in no way did your sense of determination fluctuate. So you subsequently removed your hands from your lap to lift yourself off of the crate, spinning around until you were facing in the same direction as Hux. Even then he only moved his claw that continued to do Entity knows what on the hub’s panel. 

Having spun your body around, you scoot even closer towards Hux with your right hand placed on your side. And although your left one mimicked the other, this one instead slid over the crate’s surface in an inconspicuous manner. 

Finally you turned away from Hux, but you did so in a playfully unknowing way as though you never took notice of what you were doing and instead stared at the hub’s screen. Once your hand reached the edge of the crate and began to hover in the air, your fingers cautiously reached out to where you knew Hux’s claw was positioned. 

Still watching the cloning hub, your fingers bit by bit stuck together before clasping onto the hook’s back side. Perhaps not the smartest decision, but it was the only comfortable way of holding the claw without it being awkward. More awkward than it already was, at least. 

The corners of your lips shot upwards at the contact while you still looked away from Hux, even when he instantly shot a look in your direction due to somehow having felt the hold on his hook.

“What are you doing?”

At long last you returned your gaze to his form, taking your time before your eyes met with his visor’s lights.

“What was that?”

“What are you doing?” Hux repeated, never once moving a single inch. 

“I’m just sitting here.” you gave a shrug before turning away with a tightened grip on his claw. “What are you doing?”

Just like moments earlier, you were met with a deafening silence that prompted you to look back at him with your same smile. Hux, despite the lack of emotions, gave you a stare that pierced right into your soul. Or it would have if you had been any other being that didn’t know him. 

“What?” you chuckled with a new grin before your eyes fell on your hand holding his claw. “Oh! Is that bothering you?”

“Yes.”

Hux’s immediate response had honestly caught you off guard, smiling face gone and instead replaced with wide eyes that looked at the ship’s wall with lightning speed. Your hand released Hux’s claw with the same speed before your hands were returned to your lap in a shame the robot was not aware of. Crazy how a robot could mortify you like that. 

“Sorry.” you mumbled with a clear of your throat, all confidence having flown out the window. “I’ll make sure not to do that again.”

“Why not?”

Now your eyebrows furrowed at Hux’s new question, making you turn to him with a blink of your perplexed eyes. 

“You just said-”

“Your directive never was to stop.” 

For a robot, he gave really confusing signals. He claimed the holding bothered him, but here he is saying he doesn’t want it to stop. Was he lying? Was he even capable of lying?

Nevertheless you gave a sigh, not sure if it was due to a newfound consolation, before your smile returned to your face. With this new relief in you, you reached your hand out to Hux and took hold of his modular claw once more. 

“This treatment is infernal.”

“Huxlee, I don’t even know what you want at this point.” You removed your hand from him again much to his disliking, causing him to finally turn his entire body to face you with his usual stare. At this, you crossed your arms with your smile remaining visible. “You want me to let you go, you don’t want me to let you go. And then you never give me a straight answer. Just how am I supposed to keep you happy?”

“I am not capable of feeling human emotion.”

“I know that.” you chuckled. “But I also know you won’t tell me to back off after this,”

No matter how many mixed signals he gave you, this was one thing you didn’t need any indication for. After standing up to meet Hux’s eyes, you took hold of his head before planting a quick kiss on the middle of his visor. And he, like many other times, remained still while his CPU recalculated just what had happened. 

“Holding…is acceptable.” Rang out his words from his voice box, making you grin at his sudden change of words. “Do not touch the modular claw.”

Was this another mixed signal, or a sort of threat?

“Human flesh is too feeble for a weapon such as that one.”

No, it was a warning. His way of looking out for you, even if it didn’t sound like it. 

“Then what can I hold?” you tilted your head to the side before Hux mimicked your action. However, his head snapped down soon after before you followed his gaze that landed on his projectile claw. And to your surprise, he lifted it and reached out to you rather than expect you to take the limb yourself. 

Your smile returned once more before you accepted his claw and met him halfway, holding his metallic fingers which gingerly curled around your own. With each of you now facing each other, you grinned up at the robot with a giggle before speaking again. 

“Are we just going to stand here holding…hands?” you blinked with a bit of a laugh, Hux merely snapping his head back in your direction. “Or…should we go out for a walk?”

“Strolling not necessary.”

Okay…guess standing in place was what it would be until he tired of it. Which, as much as he claimed to find your affections annoying, you learned would take a good minute to happen. It was just another one of his many ways of keeping you all to himself. 

You couldn’t help but laugh and shrug the strange positioning off, not like you hadn’t dealt with stranger things throughout this relationship. 

Hm. Maybe you could take things to the next step and try to hug him.

[duckprintspress]

Meet Aether Beyond the Binary Contributor S. J. Ralston

We’re entering the final week of the Kickstarter campaign for Aether Beyond the Binary, an anthology of 17 aetherpunk stories starring characters outside the gender binary, and we’re still going strong! As I write this, we’re $3,700 shy of our goal – an amount we definitely can raise, but the more help we get spreading the words about this project, the more people will know it exists, and truly that’s the single biggest barrier to hitting our goals: effectively spread the words. So, if you believe in this project, whether you’re a backer or not, we’d really appreciate you taking a moment to share/reblog/retoot/reskeet our posts about it!

Bluesky

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Thanks for all your support! Now, let’s introduce another of our contributing authors…

About S. J.: S. J. grew up in a distinctly weird, distinctly southern hometown, then hied out West for grad school before landing in Texas, where they currently work as a planetary scientist. They’ve been writing original works and fanfiction since they could hold a pencil semi-correctly, and continue to write both whenever possible (as well as still holding a pencil only semi-correctly). In their clearly copious spare time, S. J. enjoys hiking, tabletop RPGs, jigsaw puzzles, and enthusiastically crappy sci-fi.

Link: Personal Website | Tumblr

This is S. J.’s first time writing with Duck Prints Press. You can read another example of their writing by visiting their website to check out Anglerfish, a horror sci-fi story. 

An Interview with S. J. Ralston

How did you pick the name you create under?

It’s a line from the opening of the Aeneid that’s stuck with me ever since AP Latin in high school: “On account of the mindful wrath of cruel Juno.” It’s a synchesis, where the adjectives have been swapped from where you expect them to be; it’s Juno who is mindful and her wrath that is cruel, but rearranging them in such a way elegantly implies the relentless, vindictive onslaught that is to follow.

What do you consider to be your strengths as a creator?

Dialogue and dread.

What do the phrases “writer’s block” or “art block” mean to you?

The state of wanting to create but not having the intellectual raw materials to do it.

Are you a pantser, a planner, or a planster? What’s your process look like?

I would consider myself a plantser. Typically I start with an IDEA, writ large, center of the page. Then some key scenes will populate around it–dramatic moments, fun bits of dialogue, cool setpieces. At that point I get out my corkboard and red string and start trying to piece everything together, and if I’m lucky, the shape of the story will reveal itself to me. Sometimes it’s the classic parabola of rising and falling action, other times it’s been a ring, a tri-fold posterboard, a descending spiral, or a series of concentric circles. Then I fill in until the structure is complete and hope like hell that I can stick the landing.

What are your favorite tropes?

Found Family, Robots With Feelings, Enemies To Lovers, Destructive Romance, Kirk Summation/The Man In The Room

What are your favorite character archetypes?

Brooding Loner Secretly Just Lonely, Lying For Fun And Profit, Badass With An Obvious Dump Stat, Too Old For This Shit, Taciturn But Bizarre, Himbo

Do you like having background noise when you create? What do you listen to? Does it vary depending on the project, and if so, how?

I make a playlist for almost everything I write that’s longer than a few thousand words. Sometimes it’s for listening to while I’m creating (in that case, it has to be primarily instrumentals or I’ll get distracted), and sometimes it’s just for daydreaming to (in which case, the vibes must be correct, so I can construct AMV’s in my head).

Share five of your favorite books. (You can include why, if you want!)

Feet of Clay by Terry Pratchett – Eerie, funny, and poignant in equal measure; a police procedural done right.

Piranesi by Susanna Clarke – Lush with joy, curiosity, and love, yet still remarkably dark, with an ending that will nestle in your brain forever.

Artemis Fowl: The Opal Deception by Eoin Colfer – Fourth in the series and the absolute pinnacle thereof. A master-class in shit hitting the fan. 

Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation by Mo Xiang Tong Xiu – Everyone, down to the most momentary background character, behaves more like *people* than any I’ve ever read before and it’s *disastrous* and I *love* it.

The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde by Robert Louis Stevenson – The classic of classics. The horror of horrors. The transgenderism of it all.

What are your goals as a creator? 

(1) To write something that’s better on the second read-through than it was on the first, and (2) To write something that stays with the reader.

What’s the best advice you’ve ever received?

When you finish a first draft and you *know* you’ve got something really good, put it down. For a month, six months, a year; until the glow fades, or you’ve fallen in love with whatever you’re writing next. Then come back and re-read that first draft. Take extensive notes, diagram the plot, profile the characters. Notice the holes, redundancies, missed opportunities, and inconsistencies. Then open up a blank document and *start over.*

S. J.’s Contribution to Aether Beyond the Binary

Title: Razzmatazz

Tags: bipoc, body horror, butch, character injury (non-graphic descriptions), classism, dehumanization, eye horror, horror, humans are the villains, mechanic, minor character death, misogyny, murder (accidental), non-binary, non-human character, past tense, sentient construct (magical), third person limited pov

Excerpt: 

The thing was damn near unrecognizable, not just as Marilyn Monroe, but as human. People had tweaked the proportions through the years—amateur artists who couldn’t put down the paintbrush. That kind of thing was bad enough on paper, but seeing it in person made Skipper’s butthole clench.

The dress and the curls were Monroe. The rest was something else.

“Shit my ass off,” Skipper said under his breath.

“Yeah,” said Charlie.

“This gets up and walks around?”

“She does.”

“Shit my ass off.”

Maybe it was a trick of the light, a too-heavy head on a too-thin neck, but the Monroe wasn’t staring across the aisle like the others. It seemed to be looking down at Skipper. It put out waves of dare-you-to-start-some-shit energy.

“Is it because they messed with the proportions?”

“Huh?” said Skipper, pulling out of the Monroe’s tractor beam.

“The reason she moves around so much. Could it be because of…” Charlie gestured to its whole body.

“Hell, maybe,” said Skipper.

The Monroe loomed like a landslide, just waiting for the rain. Skipper had a hammer on his belt. He felt like the Monroe was staring at it. If he broke the case, what then? 

[invincible-selfxmade-punk]

I'M OFFICIALLY OLD & I DON'T LIKE IT

@albrechtstarkarm

@elderberriesandarsenic @bitter1stuff

@gifsbysimplysonia

@allhailthe70shousewife

The abundance of technology and lack of humanity causes a longing for the past makes me feel like a fucking Luddite!

(Continue to read for Gen X bitching)

For the last couple of years, I have not been able to see that well through my current classes prescription. Every time that I would come close to getting a new prescription, I would face another eye surgery.

After the Corneal transplant, my surgeon refused to give me another prescription until a year had passed. Because, he said my eyes were changing too rapidly. In the meantime, I cannot see with this prescription at all. I only live about 7 blocks from my school and yet driving there every morning is. Terrifying, because I cannot see well enough. Every time I would go back for a checkup. I would beg the surgeon for refraction. Finally, the last time I wore the surgeon down and he said while he would not provide it. I was welcome to go to one of those cheap eyeglass places and get a temporary pair.

The place where I live does not have one of those places.

And it takes an act of God to get hubby to take me anywhere. So we waited until we were taking a trip to sea his mom, my MiL, four hrs away during Spring Break. And in an unfathomable display of generosity, he offered to take me on the way back to get my glasses.

We stop in Odessa and as luck would have it, there was a Stanton. Optical across the street from our hotel.

I go in and am given an iPad where apparently I have to write down my entire medical history by answering questions in a font so smallI cannot see it because my glasses are crappy.

It blew my mind that a place that people go to because they can't see was making people fill out their own paperwork on. Technology that was so small.

After playing around with it and having my information LIST 3 TIMES &HAVING TO START OVER, I figured out that I could adjust the font size---- but no one told me this.

In the end I had to just hand it over to my husband and have him fill it out!! All of this would have been completely avoided if they had an option for paper. RED FLAG #1

Because I didn't have an appointment. I waited about an hrs & a half. As people were going ahead of me, I am noticing the very young attendant that is taking them into the exam room is asking every single person the exact same saying set of questions quite robotically.

RED FLAG #2

Finally is my turn and as soon as I walk into the exam room red flags are going off AGAIN because nothing in that room looks like what you would need for a glasses refraction.

RED FLAG #3

As someone who has had to go to an ophthalmologist three times a year since the age of 5 ,I know these things.

So the girl who starts bounding off her questions. Did I want glasses or contacts?

How many hours did I spend in one of the computer?

I told her 5.

About 30 seconds later she says "Okay. So you say you spend about 10 hours in front of the computer?"

RED FLAG #4

I didn't bother to correct her and then she starts telling me about all the different type of lenses they have, so I ask her how much those lenses would cost and she tells me that she doesn't know. But after I get my prescription, I can discuss that with people up front.

So you only have one job --that you do with as much passion as an android and you know nothing about the other parts of your organization?

RED FLAG #5

She then tells me she needs to take a measurement of my eye, which I would understand for contacts but i'm getting glasses and i'm not sure she understood me when I told her this the first time.

So she tells me to look into this machine, which I've looked into many, many times and each time that I have. They have put the picture in focus for me.. This time the picture state blurry

The girl then announces that the machine could only take a measurements of NORMAL eyes and since I'd had so many surgeries & eyetrauma, it could not take a measurement of mine. And I would have to be referred to a doctor.

I'm thinking okay......... well where is he?

"Oh, there is no Doctor actually here because we don't do actual glasses examinations, we just do virtual glasses ambinations.

WTF IS A VIRTUAL EXAM???

Anyway, that's when I left.

[futureplayboibunnie]

‘’WICKED GAME PT.3’’

Dr Strange x fem! reader

- i am a whore. writing this makes me realise how much of whore i am. THE TENSION. THE ANGST got me gripping the table. i just had to put in the ‘who did this to you’ and i’m absolutely not sorry. enjoyyy x

‘’Stephen? What the fuck are you doing?’’

You couldn't believe the gall he had. That was a lie: you could believe it in its entirety. Stephen had the nerve to follow you and escort you as if you were this pitful and breakable object that needed to be kept behind bulletproof glass. You didn't need his protection and you didn't want him to fucking safeguard you like you were a rookie. You knew what you were fucking doing and his grip on your arm was becoming difficult to ignore. You decided to save the protestations when you got back to the motel.

When the door opened, you felt the silent judgement and resentment flow into your shared space. Stephen pushed you through the door and you gasped at his callousness, this was the straw that broke the camel's back. Fuck him, seriously. Why was he so hellbent on pissing you the fuck off? It was a desperate plea for attention but you bought into it anyway.

‘’You could have compromised my entire fucking cover. What were you thinking?’’ You challenged him as you kicked off your shoes, imploring him only fell on deaf ears but you were begging for some sort of answer from him. Stephen was rummaging around ignoring you but he stilled in his movements as his eyes met yours. ‘’And dragging me around like that?’’ Your couldn't hide your blatant aggression but Stephen couldn't care less. You were many things but you weren't stupid.

'’’You expect me not to check in on you? You were gone for hours, if you spent another second there anyone with eyes could see that you weren't one of them.’’ He replied cooly at you, so fucking robotically.

You threw your hands up in the air as protest, sitting yourself down at the dining table so completely confused and frazzled. What was he playing at?

‘’You expect me to not do my job?’’

‘’You expect me to not do mine and sit here waiting around for you?’’ Stephen quickfired as he watched you resume your defensive position.

‘’We're not having this conversation again.’’ You were exhausted of going through the same motions over and over again. The same conversation on loop like a broken record on the jukebox of a crappy diner. The same song singing the same tune. You took a breath and paused before you were going to say something unforgivable.

‘’I got...worried.’’ Stephen admitted through a mumble. His mind was running a million miles an hour and you were sat there looking for a reason, he didn't have a good enough lie or excuse to fool you with. Maybe being honest would save his skin- he was already on thin ice with you and it's literally only been two days.

Your eyes widened as you stared at him, you heart skipped a beat and to say it was unnerving would be a vast understatement. Stephen's blue eyes were radiating a sincerity, something genuine. He really got worried? You internally questioned if he could even feel an emotion such as worry.

‘’There's no need to be.’’ You said earnestly. It was profound for once. Your features softened and your voice was aching in truth.

Yeah, maybe you were telling the truth.

Maybe he could trust you.

But it was the other dickheads he couldn't trust, if you fell you would fall in deep and he wasn't sure if he could save you from it. The sheer idea of needing to save you shook him up a little. He would be in hot shit if something happened to you, he wouldn't hear the end of it.

Your insides were weaving together and knotting in patterns you hadn't experienced before and didn't have time to understand. Stephen being...worried about you- that's new. You hung your head low and bit your lip bashfully at the confusing sentiment, you let your lungs expand with a long inhale.

‘’Is this the part where we set boundries?’’ You tried your hand at breaking the chilly atmosphere and it did work. Stephen felt you thawing as you smirked a little.

It took a while but it worked, boundaries were set and you actually convinced him he'd be of more use at the motel and you out on the field- it took far too much grovelling than you'd care to admit though. You sat together discussing some strategies and plans. As much as it vexed him, Stephen let you do your field work, you would go about the seedy scenes climbing the hierarchy and being a dealer 'favourite"- it would easily get you to see who the major mob bosses and dealers were. This was definitely out of Stephen's range, if the universe was about to collapse in on itself it would be different- he could actually deal with that. But in this circumstance, he was more suited in figuring out who these people were and giving you the information you needed on your specific targets. And if you were gone for more than three hours, he reserved every right to look for you.

Over the next few nights you were popping in and out, gathering more and more information on these idiots and you quickly became prominent due to the amount of money you seemed to have. In addition to that one of the dealer's easily thought of you as one of his favourites- you took his fancy and you used that to your advantage. He called himself Deisel. It made you want to laugh. What was his brother called, petrol?

But tonight everything fucked up.

Bigtime.

You were dipping your toes in the scum that would surely leave you dead.

While you were scoping the scene, one of the dealers caught you in a lie. Your heart was beating a million paces a second, if a ear was held next to your chest it would sound like a hummingbird. You were certain he was beginning to catch onto your scent- that you weren't to be trusted and that you had an ulterior motive, that you weren't as dirty as you made it out to be. It was clear when he threatened you with his pocket knife, your eyes were saucepan wide when you saw the blade shining under the steely starlight. You couldn't exactly bust his ass like you wanted to, your cover would be blown to bits but you started sweating a little when he clamped his free hand on your arm and placed the sharp end of the blade into your skin.

You struggled against him and you were about to wince out in pain, at this rate he would cut off a big chunk of the flesh in your arm. You were bleeding already and you could feel the indents of his fingernails pierce your skin.

Fuck. You could get out of his hold but then- Shit. There was no way out of this.

In the flash of light, Diesel's voice cracked through the air and in a matter of seconds he was inbetween you both and pulled you out of his hold. Thank God.

‘’Hey. What the fuck man? She's off limits.’’ He sounded pissed.

‘’I'm your highest buyer and this is how I'm treated?’’ You tried to play the game and throw up this facade of privilege and wealth, if the self entitlement was reeking off of you it was working.

‘’Hey, baby. I'm sorry about this, I wanna make it up to you. Lemme make it up to you?’’ Diesel offered you and you were inclined to take it.

‘’I'm listening.’’

‘’There's a private party a block away from here tomorrow night at 9. Empire City Casinos. Come with the money and you could get as many shipments as you want.’’

‘’Will the bosses be there?’’ You were internally wincing at the awaited response, hoping that you weren't giving yourself away too much. ‘’I want personalisations.’’

The guy infront of you tried to cut you up because of it.

‘’Yeah, they'll be there to discuss payments and their half of the cuts. This is the first time they'll be spotted in public for a while so you won't get any other chance.’’

Yes! This was the big sting. This could be over faster than you thought but to your surprise, you needed Stephen there by your side- you couldn't go it alone.

‘’I'll be there, mind if I bring a plus one?’’

You winced the whole way back to the motel, cluching your arm as the scarlet pigment of blood seeped into your clothes with a pained expression contorted on your face. When you swung the door open, Stephen's eyes darted up to scan you from the dining table. You were gasping out in pain as your eyebrows knitted together. Stephen attempted to bridle his scattered thoughts: how the fuck did this happen? Of course this would happen, he counted on it to happen. You were hurt.

‘’Stephen..’’ You croaked out only to be ended by a gasp when you started to peel off the layers of your clothes.

Stephen didn't think twice when he grabbed you and sat you down on one of the chairs, ‘’What happened?’’ He implored through wild blue eyes, they were dimmed and darkened by the sheer envisioning of someone putting their hands on you. He rushed about and grabbed the first aid kit.

‘’A dickbag was questioning me...’’. You grimaced as he helped you get out of your top until you were left in your vest. He pulled up his seat to be near you and inpect your injury, the cuts were deep and the blood was overflowing out onto your smooth skin. ‘’He doesn't believe me.’’

Stephen's finger's felt at the swollen area and you gasped- not at the pain...no. You've definitely felt worse pain than this but it was the jarring feeling of Stephen's hands on you. He was a force of nature unto himself and you imagined even the weather bowed down to him. He was a look at me wrong and I'll destroy you and everyone you care about kind of guy, and he'd do it looking so calm- and gorgeous- that you wouldn't notice your world burning down around you until you were already a tragic heap of ashes at his feet. You swiped the tip of your tongue against your lips.

When he saw the blossoming red marks of fingerprints...Stephen glare was black and his brain turned to noise, he was left in fuming silence as his eyes narrowed.

‘’Who did this to you?’’ He questioned deadly serious, no humour or amusement playing at his voice. Stephen wasn't sure if he had ever been this sincere in his life, all he could picture was some fuckwad with their paws on you, hurting you...

He hurt you.

Stephen's reaction to that was visceral...but he didn't like it and he didn't know why.

You stayed silent so he asked again, more intently this time through gritted teeth, 'Who did this to you?'

‘’I think his name was Cliff or something? I don't know it was something stupid like that.’’ You breathed.

Okay. He could work with that.

Stephen applied pressure to the wound and his fingers curled around your skin, and your crazy out of the loop mind latched onto how beautiful they were- they were scarred, faint lines adorned the skin around out it.

The scars he attained from his accident. The accident he never talked about. The accident that left a festering wound within the deep casms of his chest. You wondered if anyone ever even held his hand. Or kissed his scars. You plummeted the thought out of your head as quickly as it came.

‘’This'll hurt. Stay still.’’ He demanded, his face icy cold and hard when he poured alcohol on your wound.

A strangled cry ripped through your throat and your fists balled, they were white with agony and Stephen wasn't at all concerned.

‘’Aren't you magic or something? Heal me.’’

‘’That's not how it works.’’ Stephen wanted to but he couldn't, he didn't have the proper herbs to actually do it for you.

Before you could blink, he was already stitching you up. Thank God he was a doctor at least; he was patching you up quickly but he was tender almost with his movements.

Tender.

A strange sentiment for a man with the name Strange. You idled at the thought. Once he was finished, he cut the wire off but all he could think of were the prints of the man that laid his fingers on you. It was hindering his ability to look at you properly, let alone talk. Carefully, his fingers meanered down your skin.

Any other day the action would have made you jump in your seat but when his eyes flitted to yours, it felt like time itself stopped at his fingerprints. He prodded the bruising skin.

‘’That hurt?’’ Stephen asked lowly, his voice filled with grit and fortitude.

His voice. Damn his voice...damn him.

'’ Yeah...’’ You exhaled as your eyebrows tensed, he was feeling at your arm and deliberately hurting you, what was he playing at?

Stephen just wanted to know the extent to which your pain peaked at so he would give the same back to the prick who did this to you tenfold. He frowned. Your skin was soft, smooth and flawless- he questioned if all of your skin looked like that. Stephen didn't enjoy the way his wayward thoughts were heading, he had no hold over you.

But he wanted to. God, he wanted to. It was a hail mary of course, something pulled away from cruel, weightless and void fantasies but he just wanted to...make sure you were okay. When he was snooping, he got an insight into the softest and tender parts of yourself and it was compromising the way he was treating you.

Behind the brooding facade, with this new information about you he half-expected flowers to sprout on whatever ground you walked on and a coterie of singing woodland animals to trail behind you while you traipsed through meadows or whatever girls like you did. It was a bright sunshiney thought that split through his dark ones. Stephen pledged to never hurt another human, or to take another man's life- he already did it once and it broke him but this was different. You were the source.

‘’By the way, I got invited to the actual cause and all the fuckers we're trying to dethrone are there. I need you to come with me this time.’’ You were almost scared to tell him that you both probably have to deal with more injuries like this considering the high stakes tomorrow.

‘’Now you want me to come with you?’’ Stephen raised his brow cynically.

‘'Yeah, it's at a casino. Are you a gambling man by any chance?’’ Your inquiry wasn't ingenuine, you could imagine Stephen post-sorcerer spending all his silver surgeon millions on blackjack when he was a playboy. He nodded.

Gambling? He could gamble, he was pretty lucky at the card counting table actually. At least he could watch out for you. Poor girl, the world would eat you alive if you were the alone.

That's not his problem…right? The question quickly poured out of his head when he finally drank in what you were actually wearing in front of him right now.

A simple white vest, it was clinging onto your body like saran wrap, like a second skin. What really caught him off gaurd was the lack of a bra, he couldn't lie about the fact that he enjoyed the view. He could imagine himself lifting that cami, tugging your skin aside with his teeth and closing his mouth around those sweet, hardened-

He yanked himslef out of his alarming fantasy fast. What the fuck was wrong with him? This was strictly work, if he let himself think about you this way Tony would have his head. No fraternizing.

But these were just thoughts after all, thoughts no-one else could hear. There was no harm in that...

What made Stephen question his morals were that you were exactly his type. The kind of sophisticated, jaded woman he'd prefer in and out of bed.

Especially in bed.

Then he saw through it, he viewed you as innocent, doe-eyed and so sweet you could throw up after snooping through your room. A familiar, creeping sense of doom slithered around his neck and squeezed tighter and tighter, until oxygen ran scarce and tiny lights danced in his eyes. You've got him feeling fucking wired.

‘’So, am I now going to live out the daily life of Natasha Romanoff? Secret spy and all that shit?’’ A smile tugged his lips upward. Was Stephen Strange making a... joke? What was even more unexpected was that you laughed, a real laugh.

‘’Yes, Doctor Romanoff.’’ You quipped and he let out a low chuckle. You suddenly felt a surge within you, you felt on top of the world making the disputatious and fractious Stephen Strange laugh. You felt special.

Stephen was ogling at you like a teenager. An unbidden image of a trail of sweat trailing down your skin into your cleavage flashed through his mind hotly. He set his jaw and refocused his stare on you, a dangerous rhythm pulsated behind his temple at the thought. He couldn't remember the last time he thought of a woman this way.

Stephen knew you were the type to expect sweet nothings and lovemaking in bed, no matter how much you were trying to hide it. You couldn't handle what he was into. His lips curved at the realisation- not enough to classify as a smile and not enough to broadcast his thoughts. He didn't do sweetnothings or lovemaking. He fucked a certain way and only a specific type of woman was into that shit. Not hardcore BDSM but not soft either. It was just two people using each other. Getting orgasms out of it. The woman always tried to change it up throughout and he gladly shoved the door in their face. He absolutely couldn't tolerate anyone who couldn't keep an agreement.

But...isn't that what he was thinking of this way right now breaking an agreement? He was a bold faced hypocrite but he'll deal with it later. Right now all he could look at was you. Fuck, you were attractive. You looked all sweaty and fucked out, hair tumbling down wildly like you were just finished cumming- these thoughts were laviscous and unrelenting. It was like a dam exploded and he couldn't bridle it, he couldn't push it back when you looked so damn good. It was a simple fact. It was objective. And there was nothing he could do to stop it. After that guy touched you, all he could think of was losing you again- he was reminded of how...necessary you were.

‘’You gawk often.’’You stated absentmindedly as you were absolved in the task of putting a plaster on your arm. ‘’Can you be useful and pour me some whiskey?’’ The way you weren't even sorry that you called Stephen out, now you were ordering about like he was your ward. But he was listening to you, he got up and grabbed two glasses and poured out the whiskey- like you were old chums chortling and conversing over drinks. He padded back to the table and offered you the glass which you took immediately and took a dreg of, the liquid burned at your throat but it was welcome due to the fact it related to the heated atmosphere.

‘’Have you always been this ballsy?’’Stephen blurted out of the blue when he ran his hand through his hair.

‘’I prefer it.’’You chided with a come hither look, a face bordering on flirt. That look could end lives, including him. You? Flirting? He liked it.

Maybe he could wet your body down with the whiskey and spend days licking it off you…Stephen sucker punched the thought out of the forefront of his mind.

‘'It'll get you killed.’’

For fucks sake! It was like he said the same thing every fucking time. Infuriating didn't even begin to cover it, when would he stop this incessant nagging? It was an earworm.

‘’I'm not as careless as you are, I mean look at this-‘’ You attempted to reach for his hand to prove of the physical reminders of his ‘carelessness.’

You yelped when Stephen grabbed you by the wrist. Your blood roared in your ears as he tightened his grip on your skin, not enough to hurt though but firm enough to know his stance and assert his authority. To let you know he could break you if he wanted to. You'd be lying to yourself if it didn't turn you the hell on because it did. Your eyes locked and the roaring intensified. Beneath those jaded pools of ice, you glimpsed a spark of something that sent heat swirling through your stomach.

‘’I'm not a toy.’’ He said, his voice a lethal and a concentrated dose of hard and soft. ‘’Don't play with me unless you want to hurt yourself.’’

"You won't hurt me.’’ You affirmed heavy lidded, like you were so damn sure of yourself.

A part- a very large part- wanted to bend you over his knee. Right here. Right now. He wanted to make you wear a short skirt, and then yank it up and find out just how wet you were from his voice alone. Stephen had seen the lust in those eyes- you were turned on and you didn't move away when you were.

He was finally admitting it.

He wanted you but it wasn't a sweet tender kind of want that he knew you were secrety longing for, but a dirty ugly kind of of want tainted and stained by blood and fury.

That spark crystallized into a pointy jagged anger. He was speaking to you like you were a naive child who would die tying shoelaces. And this was when your plan to escape started forming, he was being so fucking frosty but it was expected considering you were about to make a case out of his hands. The hands that he was desperately insecure over. You can admit you took it too far but you weren't going to apologise to him at this moment in time. You allowed him to hold onto you for a split second before you stood up from your seat and stepped back. For some reason, he had to tamp down the ridiculous and irritating urge to follow you but you just grabbed the whiskey bottle and retreated back to your room, leaving him in fuming silence. He was already thinking of ways to chastise the man who hurt you.

[mightbeorphanedidk]

Backstory rn i want details fandoms and all

HOOOOOO BOY

Alright sit yourselves down kids

IT STARTED IN 2020.

Dsmp phase, my first fic was a rewrite of the plot of the dsmp (self-insert ofc) with my own spin on things. I wrote it because quarantine and I didn't have much else to do, so I pulled up docs on my crappy windows 2010 model (it was so bad that upon starting it up, it would start overheating. Opening more than three tabs at a time caused it to crash) and began writing. Learned I loved to write, so I kept going with it.

2021 I had my hazbin hotel phase. Wrote a fucking like 400 page fanfic that was... (IM ASHAMED.) CHARLASTOR... I would say it wasnt them directly but it was, Alastor never stopped smiling and loved his mama, and "Charlotte" had her parents abandon her. The story was so shit. I tried to see if I could rewrite it, maybe change it a lot, but nope. So much shit happened that was so unnecessary I couldn't save it. I think the story was just me trying out different troupes and prompts.

HOWEVER, i did write shorter fanfics of the two (yeah i wrote a fanfic of my own fanfic fuck off okay leave me alone) that were somewhat OKAY. Like, they werent the best, but theh sure as hell had better structure than the first fic.

2022 i had a... actually what DID i have.. OH FJCK RIGHT

ENCANTO. THAT SHIT WAS SOOO BAD... I actually preordered a Bruno funko pop so thats cool. NOT RELEVANT. I MADE THIS BOMBASS STORY ABT THE CANDLE BEING EVIL AND IT WAS SOOOOO GOOD DUDE. LIKE SO GOOD. I LOVED IT.

And then i lost it. It’s gone. Actually i might be able to find it give me a moment.. found it. 200 PAGES OF DIFFERENT FICS I WROTE. There are 6 different stories in here. Christ these were actually kinda good

In late 2022 and all of 2023 i got into detroit become human. Uhh let me think.. OVER 1000 FUCKING PAGES OF THESE ROBOTS. 1000 pages, like 90 different fics, but only 23 were released. May release more. THESE WERE ACTUALLY GOOD. I LIKED A GOOD MAJORITY OF THEM.

And that brings us to 2024. What started as "hey dr facilier reminds me of Alastor ill write a fic" turned into a revisitation of my 2021 phase. Get me the fuck out of here.

Now, you may be asking "bruh didn't you write ur own stories tf" I DID! titles were never my strong suit but ill list the ones I wrote anyways

Edit: realised listing the titles was a risk cus i shared them w my irl friend LMAOO

1. Dark Romance, WIP

2. Action and sci-fi, completed, 500 pages

3. Slice of Life, never completed, 60 pages

4. Musical Story Attempt: 40 pages, never complete

5. Action, Dark romance, never completed, 120 pages

Ones I DIDN'T SHARE with her:

Identical Opposites (again, titles were not my thing lol): Romance, never completed, 300 pages

Thats it lol. Yeah every villian had their backstory DSMP was mine LMAOOO i blame you quarantine

Eh, but honestly, if I didn't get into writing, idk where tf i would be. Probably dead 💀

[ask-tt-fnaf]

put time travel into anything and it becomes better

hi

idea

this is a character ask blog for a goofy FNAF time travel au

I will also post comics occasionally

this au does not have very much lore so have fun and don’t take any o this stuff seriously.

it has time travel cus Henry like. time travel kidnapped them all and now they all have to live in 2020 with him for some reason

this is very early in its stages! advice for anything would be greatly appreciated and welcome!

#ooc- out of character. white text like this

#in character- coloured text (most likely orange or purple, but any colours are in character)

*this blog may contain some willry

these asks will be answered in comic form! *THEY MAY BE IN EITHER A STICK FIGURE FORM OR A MORE COMPLEX FORM! VERY RARELY WILL THEY JUST BE ANSWERED WITH TEXT*

SORRY FOR MY CRAPPY DESCRIPTIONS MY BAD I CANT WRITE 🤓

meet the cast!

(I couldn’t come up with any nicknames/ separate names to tell them apart for Henry lol :3 so I may need some help with that if u wanttt 🤓👉👈)

Bill and Henry - from college! William arrived from England not too long ago to get away from his abusive father. Unfortunately, he had a younger sister that he misses dearly- it makes him feel awful that she’s still in that house. When Henry and him met, it didn’t take long before they became the bestest of friends. Henry’s lived in Utah for his whole life. He loves building robots, it’s his favourite thing to do. Meanwhile, Bill likes the performing arts, but designing robots and looking at the things that make them work is fun to him too.

Will and Henry - from around 1980-1983! They’ve just opened Fredbear’s Family Diner together, and business has been booming! They’re living great lives and they don’t see how anything could go wrong. However, Henry and his wife are going through divorce, and William has been springlocked, leaving him with scars over his body. Otherwise though, things are going great.

William - William in 1987. William has divorced, and two of his children have been killed by his own creations. One night, he was drunk and tired and thought Charlie would be the best victim to get his revenge on. He didn’t stop after that, though- he’s murdered five already. He’s a constant chainsmoker, and a very unpleasant guy to be around.

Springtrap and Henry - from 2020. William has gotten springlocked a second time, this one killing him. However, he’s not really dead.. more like part of the undead, taking on the new name of ‘Springtrap’. Henry is lonely, depressed, and old now. Everyone he knows is dead. Maybe someone else will come later.. >:]

‼️some people not welcome! I’m talking to YOU homophobes, r@cists, sexists, zi0nists, weird -philes (p3do/zoo), also nsfw/kink blogs please don’t interact! this blog is run by a MINOR so don’t be weird and don’t ask anything overly sexual‼️

yippee this sucks 🥳

[darthpastry]

1993. Free your sister. I know where she is. Fix her. Put her back together. Do something right for once in your miserable life.

Michael Afton character analysis is back! Start with SL and immediately after and then if the post isn't too long maybe I'll go into FNaF 3. Maybe write this one out a bit more like a story instead of just rambling about what we know and some headcanons. I do think that SL takes place in 1993 just because that's the year William gets springlocked and one of the cutscenes has Springtrap but also William would've had to have reached out to Michael the same year.

Back to Michael though. Night one. The keypad on HandUnit was broken, Michael smiled slightly despite the situation as the crappy piece of technology dubbed him Eggs Benedict. The method of controlled shocks was weird, but he was willing to do it nonetheless. They were just robots, they didn't feel anything. Baby never appeared when she was told, but HandUnit dismissed him and Michael felt no need to shock the robots more than necessary. He went home and watched TV.

Night two. A dead body had been found in the vent? Wonderful. Baby talked to him, she was intelligent. Aware.

This has been in my drafts so long at this point I’ll just post as is lol