#or that you is smart thing from the help if you want a cultural reference that isn't from the 80s

[cartoon-cass]

Comprehensive breakdown of MURDER DRONES - Episode 7: Mass Destruction

I saw a breakdown of this episode on youtube and it was just clearly rushed so I want to do this episode justice so here's my comprehensive breakdown.

New intro, look at them! They look so happy, that is not the case in the episode, to say the least. With how much rubber hosing this animation has I would not be surprised if this was done by Kevin Temmer Tunes with what he learned from amazing digital circus Edit: N was animated by Micah Preciado and Uzi by Zachary Preciado

Bad day to accidentally grab the wrong uniform, I do wonder where the actual Dr.Chambers was in all this. Wonder if it would have made a difference... probably not.

Not actually important but having the shadows of the claws that aren't actually there be the thing to interact with the world is fucking cool as hell. This whole scene is a cool twist on an exorcism with robots and science.

Like look at this, it's a pentagram magnet, a normal pentagram from my basic pop culture understanding it's meant to not only summon a demon but also keep them from leaving the circle. A strong magnet is so smart for this case as it's used to keep Nori in place, I mean it doesn't end up working in the end but it's the thought that counts.

It took my second watch of this episode to realize why the lights got turned on, it revealed the tentacles and claws but it's sun light, the same stuff that burns the Disassembly Drones and Uzi. It even has the same effect as in the end of Episode 4

Can I just say how extra it is making the USB a crucifix, I love it. Also I just notice that on the end of the crucifix the detailing is actually in the shape of a USB symbol, the details in this show is amazing, you can see all the love that went in to it.

This is probably the most terrifying way to hold these robots. I couldn't blame any of the robots for wanting to kill the human good god. Also Yeva playing Tetris, the game has a lot of ties to Russia so wonder if she spoke Russian too, she doesn't speak in this episode and not sure if we'll get more flashback with her so not sure if we will ever find out.

Not sure why Mitchell stop Yeva from entering the church but I like to think he thought Yeva was like a kid, look at him holding her hand in the scene before, and was trying to keep her save and knew something was off. That being said I'd love to hear what you think is his reasoning, sound off in the comments/reblogs.

Pulling back we can see Nori, specifically her core, looking at a crucifix comparing it to the USB crucifix in the video to see if it's the one with the patch, it's not, so she goes out for the hunt to see if she can find it.

Like daughter, like mother, honestly cool little details that lets us know what kind of character Nori is with the very little time we have with her. Drawing made presumably by her of herself as a human cat girl, twice, motor oil cans everywhere, a fricking ninja star, nightcore music, a anime statue that might be a reference to something but I have no clue, also magnets which have been used in the passed like drugs so that's um... something.

was originally just going to point out the funny little animation errors in this scene, as the paper goes through the Ipod and the crinkled paper is mirrored but then I wanted to check what was on the paper and...

It's a missing poster of all things? it uses the exact posters used in episode 3 it's probably just reusing assets but I thought it was a cool thing to point out.

Uzi bleeds blood in these scenes and it's not necessarily mentioned out loud, clearly something AS related, but there might be more to it, or it just looks cool.

This man is in some serious denial, but credit where credit is due, when "Tessa" tells N to stop he turns around, and when Uzi apologized for not being able to help he immediately apologized for Snapping at her. Also look at Tessa's little pointing, thought it was funny.

N: "We're not going to hurt you."

I can't blame Uzi for taking this the wrong way, he's clearly telling Tessa off but all Uzi hears is "hurt you", hence why she only parrots that part.

Thad: "Aaand you won't tell me why we're wandering around 'cause...?" Lizzy: "I'm a good friend, and secrets are blackmail. And it's not about football." Thad: "Okay. Does your secret friend want to know about football, or...?"

Anyone else wondering who Lizzy's good friend is? The only 2 characters we know are good friends with Lizzy are Doll and V. It's possible that through everything Doll sent a text to Lizzy asking her to do something but I feel like V just makes more sense. This does assume V made her way away from the sentinels, if I had to guess she's just a core at the moment which might be why she couldn't do it herself, no wings nor weapons as a core, also makes the blackmail line make more sense.

N: "I deserve this. I deserve this. I deserve this."

Baby girl NO! no you don't, your too hard on your self

That scream. That cut. *chef's kiss* perfect.

This scene just shows us why Uzi went towards the church. Also note when she's the most stressed her eye turns yellow so it does seem stress is the deciding factor whether she can be possessed.

V/AS: You know, you're one of the main reasons... [voice glitching] ...I wanted your team to retain your personalities.

This quote I think has some interesting implications, I mean it obviously confirms that the DD squad was influence by AS but it might also be why it keeps a bit of the personality of which ever host it's using.

This scene holy shit, the music, the lighting, the sound design and animation, that's how you do horror! You don't even need detailed gore, in fact most of it is just off screen. like look at the DD's off in the distance one catches the pilot of the helicopter mid air then they fight over it like hungry animals.

Ok so I hit the image limit and it's almost 1 in the morning so I'm gonna go to bed and continue this tomorrow

~to be continued~

[hazel-eye-coffee-shop-girl-blog]

maybe like a

daryl x reader but he finds her really drunk in (alexrandia)

or finding reader in the woods (meeting her for the first time) and she’s really hurt and he practically saves her

Happy Monday Everyone! Sorry I am taking so long to get to these writing prompts that I ask you all to send my way. I am so appreciated of each and ever one of them, that I want to give each one time to create something special, or at least passable.

I hope @dreamtofus I did you justice in your ask, I really had a lot of fun writing a Daryl x Reader, it was my first, but hopefully not my last. I know I still need to work on getting the 'voice' of Daryl down, but for a first attempt, I don't think it's too bad.

Please let me know what you think, reblog, likes are always welcome. This story is my own, so please don't steal it. All mistakes, typo are mine, I do apologize. I do a few rounds of edits, but things just slip through, so be kind when passing judgement.

Details:

Daryl x Reader, told mainly from the reader POV, but we do get a small POV of Daryl. A flashback is had, some pop culture references, not sent in an particular timeline of the show. Seeing how the reader meets Daryl for the first time, how he saves her not once but twice, and the reader letting her guard down around Daryl.

Ment to be a one shot, but if you all like it enough, I could be persawded to write more, with these two.

Triger warnings: nothing really, its sweet, angst.

Word count: 2,000+

You knew never to go out this late in the day for anything, even a ‘simple’ supply run would never be done this late; you should have just waited until tomorrow. But No, you have to prove something to yourself? No, you knew you had survived this long, almost two years now, in this fire burning world. Your smarts, being a country/farm kid growing up, and your love of reading anything you could get your hands on help you survive this long. 

So, you need to prove something to the members of this group that found you a few weeks ago and brought you into their community? Maybe, you're sure they are still assessing you, and seeing if you're worth the trouble of being another mouth to feed and another body to protect. 

The leader, Rick, seems nice, standoffish, but also a protector that if you do get to stay with them, would be loyal and a big brother figure for you. Maggie, is also in that camp of big sister energy that would kick anyone’s ass for you. 

No, if you were to put money on who in the group is still questioning if they should take you in or not, that would be the redneck hunter Daryl. 

Daryl was the one that came across you while you were scavenging an abandoned drug store just a few miles south from where the group’s camp was. He was the one that held a crossbow aimed at your back, telling you to drop the antibiotics that there was a baby in his camp that needed it more than you. 

Flashback

“Don’t make me say it again, drop the drugs.” A gruff, gravelly voice, from behind you, fills the silence of the space, and makes you freeze like a deer in headlights.

Getting up from your crouch position, you slowly turn, with the bottle of pills in your hand. Sweat from the fever you're currently trying to shake and not the Georgia heat drips down your face. If you hadn’t already heard him speak, you would have thought you were seeing things. There standing in front of you is a man, dressed all in black, his dark brown hair long and slightly covering one side of his face, while the other side is slightly covered by the crossbow that is currently aimed at you. His lean but muscular frame in a stance that screams hunter, his tone arms never wavering, so you know that he will wait you out, he has the discipline to do so.

“Fuck…I can’t…” you reply desperation, and exhaustion taking over. You know that you should be scare, you should be worried that he’s going to let go of the trigger, and put you out of your misery, but, you can’t give a fuck at this point. 

“Will you at least aim for the head, if you're going to kill me.” You quip leaning on the shelving next to you, feeling yourself get weaker.

This seems to throw off the mystery man, as he hesitates for a second, “what?” he questions, not lowering his bow, but moving his finger from the trigger.

Grabbing something from your back pocket, a purple bandana, you wipe the sweat from your forehead. “Look, I can’t come back as one of the dead.” your voice ragged. “You could give me at least that courtesy. Because otherwise, I will find you, and eat you.” You joke, giving your best Lim Nelson voice at the end. 

The mystery man doesn't seem to get the reference to that line, as he gives no reaction to the idea that you, as a walker, could somehow find him on purpose and eat him. 

“It's a joke…it's from…never mind.” You toss the bottle of pills towards him, and slide down to the floor and wait for either the exhaustion, fever, or this mystery man to take you.

Your mind is fuzzy, and either this guy will leave you alone or not. With your eyes closed, you can hear the rustle of him putting the bottle in his bag, and then the sound of him coming over the counter and towards you. His footsteps stop and you can feel him staring down at you. “What?” Uou question, keeping your eyes closed. 

“Whatcha doing?” he questions. “you bit?”

“Waiting for a bus, what does it look like? I am sick you ass, and I am exhausted.” Your frustration taking over. You open your eyes to find him crouching down and bringing a hand up to your forehead, “What the hell, dude!” You slap his hand from you and push yourself up and back from him, scattering bottles around you. “Just leave, you got what you wanted.”

“You didn’t answer me, are you bit?” He grumbles back, harsher this time, with authority. Annoyance is now apparent, and his blue eyes that are staring at you seem to bore into your soul.

“No, I am not bit, just sick. With the quick change in weather we had, my body...why am I explaining this to you….” you start and stop yourself from going into detail about how back when the world was somewhat ‘normal’ any drastic change in the weather always sent you into a quick cold for a few days.

Ringing out your bandana, you run it over your face and down your neck. What you wouldn’t give for some cold water, a nice cool lake to dive into. Your mind drifting to the fantasy of cooling waters is cut short when your bandana is taken from you and quickly replaced with a cool wet red one.

“What the…'' you're about to protest, when the feeling of the cool water hitting your skin shuts you up. You see him, pouring a bit more water on the rag and running it down your bare arms.

He doesn’t say anything, after wiping both your arms, he gets the rag wet again with cold water and hands it to you, “take it.”

You do, and wipe your face and then cover your forehead with it. You close your eyes and let the cool water seep through your pores, it's something, it won’t cure you, but it's something for now.

“Here.” His voice brings you back, and you open your eyes to see him holding out some of the pills and his water jug. 

Your hestent, wondering why he’s being so nice now? He keeps his hand out for you to take the items, and after another second of thinking you finally do. Swallowing the pills and taking the smallest of drinks, no need to piss him off by downing his water, you hand back the jug. “Thanks.” You mumble. 

He nods, and is about to speak when another voice from the other side of the counter breaks the slice, “Daryl, you in here?” 

Present 

You would soon come to find out and meet Rick Grimes, the man attached to that voice, and after seeing you in the state you were in that day, and asking himself if you were bit. Would then ask if you wanted to come with them and join their group.

Now here you were, somehow stuck back in that same drug store just a few miles from camp. Nighttime has settled in, and you can’t leave, with the horde of walkers outside, too many to kill on your own. Even if you could somehow make a path through, you know yourself, and your fighting abilities, you were good, but not that good.

Luckily the doors were still in good shape, and the horde didn’t know you were in the store, so they were just passing by. This has been going on for 20 minutes, and it didn’t look like they were going away anytime soon.

You had checked the backdoor, but it must be barcade on the outside, so here you sit, with your back against the wall, behind that same counter, waiting for the time pass, and hoping no one from the group notices that you're gone and starts to worry.

Running through your interactions with everyone earlier, you don’t think anyone would have seen you slip out, and you never told anyone of your plan, so you should be good, you try and reassure yourself. Stacking up the discarded bottles again in a precarious tower, what else is there to do?

“What are you doing?” a voice, gruff, deep, deadpan startles you and the tower tumbles down.

“Shit!” you yell, looking up you see Daryl leaning over the counter looking down at you. “How did you….” you start to question. Wondering how he found you? Why was he here? and how did he get in?

He strums his fingers on the counter, as if he can read your thoughts, “I saw you slip out from the gates after dinner. Waited for a bit, but when it was getting dusk and you weren’t back, figure I go out and find you.”

“So you tracked me like what...a dear?” You question, not sure if you should be flattered or creeped out by it.

“No…a dear would have been a bit more of a challenge, you were easy to find.” He jokes, and gives you a quick smile, to your glare and giving him the finger.

“Ha,ha,” you quip. getting up, you walk over to the counter, “how did you get in? sounds like that horde of walkers are still out there?” You question, looking over his shoulder, you can just barely make out the crowd still moving.

He looks towards the doors and then back to you. “AC unit on the roof, the air return drops down in the office on the other side of the store.”

“Well aren’t you just the MacGyver of the post-apocalyptic world?” You tease. He cocks his head, giving you a questionable look at your reference. Letting a sigh, “Sersious, dude, what did you watch as a kid? or did you not have a tv?”

“Come on.” He brushes off your comments, and motions for you to follow him. “What were you thinking of doing a run this late?” He questions, waiting for you to grab your gear and walk over to him.

Shit, you were hoping not to have to tell anyone why you went on this run. There was a reason you went on your own, and Daryl, especially telling Daryl was not on your list of something you wanted to do. “Umm…it's nothing….stupid really…” you start and stop yourself, wishing he would take pity on you and drop it.

Daryl wasn’t going to let you off with that answer. After all he did come and risk his ass in saving you. Even though it wasn’t a big risk for him, he knew he could find you, and get you back to camp in one piece, but still, he wants an explanation. Leaning against the counter with his arms crossed, he is not moving until you start talking. “Come on, out with it.”

You let out a sigh, “Fine” you say, and start digging in your bag, “this.” You state and pull out your purple bandana. 

Daryl knew that was yours the moment he saw you pull it out of the bag. He remembered it, taking a corner of it in his hands, the fabric ruff from the dried water/sweat. “You came back for this?” He questions, wondering why risking your neck for a piece of fabric was so important.

Slightly embarrassed, taking Daryl’s tone as stupidity or bewilderment, you pull back the bandana from his fingers and stuff it back in the bag. “Look, I said it was stupid, okay, lets just drop this and go.” You quip, feeling your cheeks start to go red of embarrassment. You start to head towards the office.

The feel of Daryl’s hand on your wrist, stops you from taking any more steps from him. “Don’t walk away from me.” His voice is commanding, but not in a harsh mean way.

The feel of his callus hands in your slightly worked but not as worked as his send a shiver up your spine. You’ve only known him for a few weeks now, and most of that time you were coming down from a cold. So why was the feel of his skin next to yours, him coming to find you, and the thoughts of him judging you make your head spin and your heart slightly race. “You're going to think it's stupid” you mumble, keeping your eyes and body away from him.

“Try me.” He replies, letting you keep your eyes off him, but still holding you in place.

You let out a breath, “it was my dad’s, or at least one of them. He was a mechanic before the world fell, and he always had a bandana in his back pocket. This was my favorite color.” Your voice slightly cracks at the end. thinking about your dad, your family, life before the world was on fire, it hurts too much. You feel the tears start to slightly fall. “He was gone before…”

Pulling you back and into his arms, laying your head on his chest, Daryl says nothing. He wraps his arms around you, surrounding you in a cocoon of him. The feel of him, his strength around allows you to let go. Sobbing, cries that you have been holding in for so long let go, and pour out of you and into his chest. He’s silent, running a hand up and down your back in comfort.

You're not sure how long, but when you feel there is nothing left you pull back to see the tear stain circles on his black shirt. “I am sorry.” Your voice shakes, bringing a hand up to wipe your face. 

Daryl takes his red bandana out from his back pocket, and wipes your cheeks. “Nothing to be sorry about.” He replies. Gentle wipe away the last tear from your jaw. He knows what it's like to lose your family, to be on your own. He wants to tell her he understands that she shouldn't be embarrassed by wanting to hold onto a piece of her past. He gets it, in more ways then she will ever know.

But now is not the time. Whatever he’s feeling for her, whatever he thinks could happen between them, the reality is, that it won’t. This pull that she has on him, it will pass, it has too. Stuffing the red bandana back into his pocket, and his feelings aside. He lets go of his hold on her and starts walking towards the office.

[cafephan]

I have been a fan of D&P for a long time... I'm so happy the gaming channel is back. I felt it was the most "real" version of themselves of all their channels...

That being said though, I love their banter but can't help but feel like they force some stuff...like I grew up, I wish they did a bit too if that makes sense. Some of the jokes seem like they are trying too hard to be edgy and young. But still watching all the vids!

i agree with you in part! but let me tell you my thoughts which i know you didn’t ask for :)

they’re smart guys who have been in this game for a long long time, they always keep an ear to the ground in terms of what is trendy in both content and humour (see all of the old days of collabs, tags, diss track, draw my life, and modern day taking on trending and upcoming games on dapg and having somewhat of a presence on tiktok) so they are well aware that some of their jokes tailor to a more modern audience - such as the quick editing style, some jokes about pop culture, referencing popular tiktok sounds etc, and generally referencing more modern day and current topics, so that new viewers that might stumble across the channel won’t see two thirty something gay guys making constant outdated jokes and will want to watch more of the content alongside the long time phannies that dnp won’t let out of the basement - but i personally think they intertwine that so well with references to both their past (see the roblox video was a love letter to the older fans but also let new fans know where they came from) and older topics that we will remember from the time they occurred (example being the reference to the piss incident - many new fans would just know the name and be like omg fnaf movie these guys know what’s up, and older phannies cackle in remembering how awkward the video was)

anyway this answer was a lot longer than what you were probably expecting, but my conclusion is to continue expecting more ‘young and edgy’ jokes - they need to keep things fresh in terms of keeping new viewer engagement, for example if a new fan tuned in to any modern day dapg video and it was just filled with more mature references and references to their past, the shorter content phenomenon means that sadly new viewers probably won’t stick around if there’s not something to keep their attention

BUT i do strongly believe the comfort content will keep coming - they are so grateful that so many of us are both still here and returning after the hiatus, they wouldn’t purposefully upset us by trying to soft reboot themselves to appeal just to the modern, new audiences!

[imtryingmybeskar]

Come Home Chapter Eight

Joel Miller x F! Reader.

Some soft moments with Joel and Ellie that are interrupted by ever-expanding memories of the past. Warning for description of a panic attack.

Word count: 4975

There is a slight spoiler for how Ellie chooses to cover her bite in the second game. Nothing major. I also want to re-iterate that this work is primarily based on the games. The outbreak here occurred in 2013, not 2003. Pop culture references are of that time.

Come Home

Chapter Eight - Hold On

The grumbling is helping you to feel slightly better about your arduous and slightly disgusting task. Rather than visit the laundries in the centre of Jackson, you had decided to stay in and wash your clothes free of the blood and gore that killing the infected had splattered upon you. The repetition of soap-scrub-rinse-repeat was helping to relax your mind, and every time a wave of grime was added to the water in the tub, it added to your sense of satisfaction.

“Goddamn…fucking…urgh. Fuckinnnng piece of shit…”

The body had been burned at the front of the outpost building, the room put back together as best could be, though the carpet had some stains that were probably permanent. After logging your visit and the fact that one infected had been killed, Joel had insisting on sweeping a wide circuit before heading back to Jackson to try to establish where the victim had been taken down.

“Look, see?” he had said as he raised the trouser leg of the corpse. You saw. The blistered bitemark was in the meat of the calf. “Woulda taken a day or so to turn. Let’s try to see where he came from.”

“Least he gave as good as he got,” Vanessa had murmured before beginning to collect up the more useful items that were lying around.

A forlorn little camp was discovered a little over an hour later half buried under the snow. When you uncovered the scene you discovered the tent partially burned, possessions scattered and a dead runner lying in the middle of it all.

The sky had been a deep lilac and swirled with grey cloud as you had re-entered Jackson, barely beating nightfall over the town. Luke had taken the horses to be stabled, Joel had gone to report to Maria, and Vanessa had briefly come to visit your house for a cup of tea before pleading tiredness and bidding you farewell. You had turned your lamps on again and built up the fire, bathing the living room in a comforting glow before deciding to do something productive and wash your clothes from the day. The gloves and jacket had borne the worst of it, and you’re just hanging them close to the fire to dry when a knock comes at the door.

When you open it you’re greeted by the welcome sight of Ellie, almost hidden behind a large cardboard box in her arms. You take it from her and bid her come in.

“Thanks,” she gasps gratefully. “That thing was kinda heavy.”

You place the box carefully on the couch, curious as to what’s inside.

“Go ahead. Look,” she says with a small smile.

Sparkles. Glitter. Frivolous beauty. You can’t help but mirror her smile as you draw out a long string of silver tinsel.

“Christmas decorations? Where did you get these?”

“They were in the garage when we moved in. I kept ‘em around. Wasn’t really sure why but I just liked ‘em. And when I saw you at the tree the other day I figured maaaybe you’d wanna decorate?”

Her voice is hopeful and her eyes more so as you look up at her.

“Well… you’re right. I used to love this stuff. But don’t you wanna decorate your place? Or Joel’s?”

She makes a dismissive huffing sound as she sits next to the box on the couch. “I already picked some stuff out to put around my place. And Joel’s a grumpy old man who doesn’t know how to have fun.”

“He did.”

“He said no?”

It is fun. You forget the dark corners, the bloodstains that won’t come out. You ignore the bad memories lurking out of sight upstairs. For a long while it’s just you and Ellie and warmth and laughter. She’s incredibly smart, with a sense of humour that spans from terrible puns to dry wit and everything in between, and before long the house is a glorious mess of mismatched decorations. She’s also eager for stories of how Christmas used to be, and you find that the memories aren’t so painful when she reflects their joy back to you.

“-and office parties. Oh Christ, they could be bad! Someone would always get too drunk or hook up with someone they shouldn’t or both and then they’d have to face the music come the next work day –“

Another knock at the door interrupts your reminiscing, and when you open it, Joel is on the other side.

“Hi,” he says, looking effortlessly handsome with one arm casually leaning on your doorframe. “You seen-“

“I’m here,” interrupts Ellie as she comes to the door too. “See. Someone appreciates the decorations!”

“I can see that,” he says, eyes twinkling as he steps inside and looks around with an amused expression. “Like a goddamn Christmas shop in here.”

“They had Christmas shops?”

“All year round in some places,” you smile.

“Well, I hate to break up this party,” Joel intercedes before Ellie can gush excitedly about this new piece of information. “But it’s time for dinner. And I think you’ve disturbed this poor woman’s evening enough.”

A rush of eagerness for them not to depart seizes you.

“Actually if you guys wanna stay for dinner here, I can offer…uhhh canned peaches. And also…canned…peaches?”

“Well now lemmie see if I can add to that fine selection of food.”

You can practically feel Ellie’s pleading gaze directed at Joel, silently begging him to accept your invitation, which he does with a low chuckle.

The fire is in its embers when Ellie begins to yawn hugely, and Joel insists it’s time to finally leave you in peace. After they depart you realise that the soft smile upon your face isn’t going anywhere soon, and rather than battle with your demons tonight you resign yourself to a bathtub sleep again, not wanting to disturb the peace and happiness that this evening has brought.

He brings some homemade leftover chicken noodle soup and a half loaf of bread back with him and with the absence of a dining table you instead sit cross-legged on cushions around your table near the fire. Conversation is light, frothy. You talk more about Yuletides past and discover that Joel firmly believes Die Hard to be a Christmas film whereas Tommy disagrees vehemently. The subject of the upcoming winter dance comes up when you mention that you’d seen it advertised on flyers around the town, and you learn both that it’s a staple of the calendar in Jackson and that Ellie is looking forward to going to her first one. At one point she retrieves a battered old book from an inside pocket of her jacket to much protestation from Joel, and he and you groan together at the terrible puns that emerge.

The next morning dawns steely cold and grey as flurries of fat snowflakes rain from the heavens and you debate what you want to do today. Staying in by the fire seems like the best idea, but you wonder if you would be imposing if you called on Ellie. Maybe to cook, or read, or just chat. You assume Joel will be busy, but their company had been so welcome, such a balm to a wound that had been open for so long you had near forgotten it was there, and you already missed the spark of warmth that had been ignited within you by their presence.

You bundle yourself up and open the door to traverse the brief distance between the houses only to startle back when you find Joel right outside, hand up as if to knock and with a look on his face like he’s been caught doing something he shouldn’t.

“Oh. Hey,” he says, bringing his raised hand around to rub the back of his neck instead.

“Hi,” you reply, the warm smile from last night returning easily to your lips. “Come to try some more of my gourmet cooking? My can opening abilities are second to none as you know.”

He returns your smile and snorts a small laugh. “Actually, I-er-I was wonderin’…”

He trails off and you get the impression that he’s anxious about something. Seeing him that way causes you to frown slightly with worry. He’s always so in control, so self assured. Something must be up. You wait patiently, wondering what could have got him worked up, but he seems to be struggling to articulate what he wants to say.

“You wanna come in?” you ask, thinking that might help.

“Naw, I gotta go down to see Tommy for a bit. But thank you.” Another pause, and then he draws himself up more fully and takes a breath. “Actually I need to see him about you.”

Your frown deepens as worry begins to sneak into your own stomach. “Nothin’ bad,” he hastens to add. “I was just wonderin’ if you wanted to go and scout that town we were talkin’ about yesterday. Since you’re so new I gotta clear it with Maria, but I think it will be okay. This particular place has been investigated twice already. Once before I got here and once at the end of summer, so we already have a fair understanding of the layout. But it might have some new “residents” by now, y’know? And there’s a clock tower in the centre where we’d need to drop off some supplies. But it would mean a coupla days away from Jackson instead of a coupla hours, so I understand-“

He's babbling. Much as you had when you first had a conversation with him, and while you didn’t really understand why given that he was usually so sparing with his words, you had an urge to save him from himself.

“I’ll go.”

He stops, looks up at you as if seeking assurance that you mean what you say. “You sure?”

You lean against the doorframe and steel yourself to answer. You don’t want to offend him, but you do want to nip this need for constant affirmation that you can actually do what you say you can in the bud.

“Joel, you keep asking me that. And I get that I didn’t make a great first impression with you here, but I promise you, I can take care of myself.” You look down and scuff the wooden planking of your porch with your foot before deciding to take the plunge and elaborate. “Its…easier out there, somehow. Mentally at least. You expect the shit. You know something’s gonna happen so when it does you just…deal with it. Here…I guess…I guess it’s a place I should feel safe but I don’t entirely. Yet. And the last actual house that I actually lived in…well…it was mine. Before.”

His brow furrows in mild confusion. “You never lived in a QZ?”

“Oh I did, but it was small. Very small. We all lived in tenements. Squats, almost. Lots of people all crowded in to each apartment. No real room of my own. I haven’t lived like this“ - you gesture behind you – “since I was in my twenties. Before I met-“ You break off abruptly and take a shuddering breath of freezing air. Too much. That was a step too far.

Comprehension dawns over his handsome features and he nods both his appreciation of what you’ve told him and acceptance that you can’t finish your sentence.

“Well…that makes some stuff a lot clearer. Gotta be weird to be alone after so long.”

“You can say that again.”

You smile sadly at him and he returns it, his handsome, whiskered face full of soft understanding.

“So,” you continue more briskly “Yeah, I’d like to go scouting. Well actually I’d like to go to Disneyworld but this will do. Christ,” you add, wrinkling your nose. “Can you imagine Disneyworld now?” A shudder creeps down your spine at the thought.

“Well, I like to imagine Mickey’s kicking ass somewhere. In full costume, you know, for protection. I bet those things are hard to bite through.“

Your shudder transmutes to a chuckle at the thought.

“Sometimes I like to guess which famous people survived,” you confess. “I bet Woody Harrelson made it.”

“Hell yeah, man’s a badass,” Joel agrees. “And that girl who played Arya in Game of Thrones. Man, I wish we’d got to see the end of that. It was gettin’ good.”

You chortle softly, and a slightly awkward silence falls between you. There’s a sense that Joel hasn’t quite said all he wants to, but before you can ask him about it he’s bidding you farewell.

“Well I’ll let you get on. And come back to you with what Maria and Tommy say about the trip out. See ya.”

And with that he walks down your porch steps and away. You suddenly remember your half-formed plans for the day and call after him.

“Wait, Joel?” He turns back, shielding his eyes from the falling snow. “Would you mind if I went over to see Ellie? Is she in?”

Even from this distance you see the warmth of his smile. “Man, you’re a glutton for punishment,” he jokes. “Sure, go right on through the backyard. Gates unlocked. She’s in there.”

He raises his hand in a final farewell and departs properly into the hazy, freezing grey landscape.

When Ellie flings open the door to the garage after you knock, she appears to be partway through a conversation.

“Jesus, Joel! I said-! Oh hi.”

“Hi,” you repeat. “Sorry to bother you.”

“Oh no, you’re not! Its just that Joel kept on about me coming out to Jackson with him today. “You ain’t been outside for a while, Ellie. You need some fresh air, Ellie!” Its fucking snowing for Chrissakes, who wouldn’t wanna be inside?”

Her mimicry of his gruff tone is entirely accurate, and you chuckle as you answer.

“Well, I was gonna ask if you wanted to come over and hang out. But inside, for sure! And if you’re busy, I understand.

She beams at you and shakes her head. “No, no. I was just sketching. Let me get my stuff.”

She closes the door softly as you turn away to look up at Joel’s house. The snow is still falling softly from a dove-grey sky, a gentle blanket covering the backyard and the rooftop and the world beyond. The silence is peaceful rather than eerie. No cars running, no crunching of the snow underfoot, no children playing-

Your thoughts suddenly enter a new track and a sly smile curves your mouth as Ellie reappears behind you.

“Hey, what did you call Joel yesterday cause he wouldn’t let you decorate the house? A grumpy old man?”

“…Well he is!” she said, defensively.

You hold up your hands in mock surrender. “You know him better than me, I’m not arguing. But what if we made another kind of decoration? Although…it would mean being outside for a while.”

Ellie’s eyes narrow suspiciously. “What did you have in mind?”

A couple of hours later you’re standing proudly in front of your handiwork. Ellie’s cheeks are pink with cold and exertion, and she steps forward to adjust the scarf that had been retrieved from your upstairs closet and that now decorated the neck of one of the snowmen on Joel’s front lawn.

“Not bad for my first try,” she remarks as she steps back in line with you and scrutinises them.

“I think they look really good,” you reply. “If only we could make them look a bit more like you and Joel. Though I don’t think he’d appreciate us digging around to use his clothes on them.”

“Probably not. But maybe…”

She breaks off as she rips up tufts of grass from the exposed patches where you had rolled the snow together and pats them on to the chin of the larger of the pair.

“It’s got a beard. Now its definitely Joel.”

You relocate indoors to the welcome warmth of your fire, your fingers tingling even within their gloves. Ellie lights the lamps to combat winter’s gloom, and you take stock of what you could whip up to feed a hungry teenager and yourself. Some vegetables, some milk, some tins and not much else. You’d have to get some more supplies soon.

“Sorry to make you eat out of a can again, but I’ve not got a lot. Does stew sound good?”

“It does, actually,” she says as she comes through to your kitchen.

“I’ll make some mashed potato on the side to make it marginally more interesting. If only I had some cheese. Cheesy mash is one of life’s greatest pleasures.”

“I think Joel might have some.”

“Much as I’d love to treat Joel’s fridge as my own, I don’t think that’s okay given that I’ve only known him a few days. Let’s give it a week at least!”

Ellie helps you to peel and chop the potatoes, and while they’re boiling away and the stew is heating up you chatter about everything and nothing. You ask her about her artwork and she coyly mentions that she’s getting better and that she thinks she would like to design a tattoo for herself one day.

“There’s a tattooist here?!”

“Kinda,” she says, and to your surprise a blush surfaces on her face, tinging her cheeks and the tips of her ears pink. “Her name’s Cat. She’s an artist, but I know she’s tattooed a couple of people around town. And herself. And she’s given me some guidance on how to get better with my drawing. She’s…she’s pretty cool.”

A small smile surfaces on your lips at the obvious crush Ellie is harbouring on this person. “Well, I’d like to meet her at some point. Might be nice to add to some of mine if I can ever find a way to pay her.”

“Did they hurt?”

“Some of ‘em. Depends where you get ‘em. The one on my back is pretty big and it hurt going over my spine. Not so much over the muscle.”

“Do you have any on your arms?”

“Chosen your spot already, huh?” you ask with an indulgent smile. To your surprise she clams up, her body language closes inward, and you wonder what you’ve said wrong.

“Yeah, I…yeah,” she mutters non-commitally.

To cover her awkwardness, you pull back your sleeve to reveal cascading patterns of concentric circles and lines spiralling around your forearm and disappearing upward.

“Oh cool!” she exclaims. “…What is it?”

“There was a TV show I was very much a fan of about a time and space travelling alien. This was the written language of their species.”

“So…this was a quote?”

“Yes, but not from the show. This is by John Keats, one of my favourite poets. If I ever find a bookstore or a library that isn’t totally wrecked I’m gonna try to find a collection of his work.”

“What does it say?”

“It’s from a letter he wrote to his next door neighbour. He was very much in love with her. It says 'My love has made me selfish. I cannot exist without you. I am f-forgetful of everything but-' "

Your breath catches. No, you can do this.

“ 'But s-seeing you again. M-my life seems to stop there. I see no further.' ”

You clutch the kitchen counter top, grip it so tightly that your knuckles whiten. You hadn’t thought about these words for a long time. Such a long time. So many years, so much pain in between. They had hung in some dusty corner of your mind, covered with old cobwebs and half-forgotten until this moment. Deep breaths. Get through it.

“ 'You have absorb’d me.' ”

Your voice is a husky whisper and you realise you’re staring blankly at nothing. Those words. So much meaning then. So much more now. Your throat is tightening with tears and your heart is racing. Fuck. You let your guard down. Too fast. Too far. And now you’re falling.

Dimly you can hear Ellie calling your name and with an effort you swivel your head to look at her. Her mouth is forming words, but that buzzing is back in your head and you can’t make them out properly. “I’m sorry,” she seems to be saying. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s..not…you,” you rasp out. “I just…I can’t. I haven’t for…And I can’t. F-fuck.”

You dazedly push yourself away from the kitchen counter and stumble to the living room where you sit down heavily on a chair. In your peripheral vision you see Ellie pad over, soft and skittish as a feral cat and sit on the sofa opposite you. You put your head in your hands and try to regulate your breathing. From your left, you hear Ellie speaking again.

“Hey. Stupid question, but are you okay?”

The dark corridor

“Y-yes…no.” Yes and no. Not with this. Never with this.

Torchlight shadows cast upon a wall sprayed with blood and bullets

Oh fuck, no. Not now. You don’t want her to see you like this.

Poor kid. You can hear her panicked tones even through the rush of the blood through your ears. She sounds so very far from you – on a boat bobbing out to sea. Your breath is shallow again, an elastic band tightening its grip round your head.

Your eyes roll back in your head and you close them.

“I’ll be fine,” you gasp as you raise your head from your hands and try to focus your vision, desperately wanting to reassure her. “Panic…attack. Just let it…pass.”

The lanyard.

The lumpen, misshapen figure ahead.

The clicking...

The clicking.

Something is slammed with force upon the table in front of you and your eyes spring open to see a glass of water.

“Drink” demands Ellie, and you recognise the wisdom in her suggestion.

You reach for it with shaking hands, slopping some on the tabletop and down your clothes before the ice cold of it washes through your mouth, over your teeth and down your throat.

Again.

Again.

Breathe.

Settle.

Breathe.

Shaky, fragile, tenuous calm.

“I’m-I’m sorry,” you stammer out. “I didn’t want you to s-see…I h-hate when-“

She soothes you, her calm child-like voice finally breaking through your layers of panic and worry.

“Hey, hey. It’s okay. You think I’ve never freaked out? That Joel’s never had to wake me up from nightmares? You think I’ve never had to wake him?”

A weak smile touches your lips. “Never thought…he’d be one for them,” you joke feebly.

She doesn’t smile. “He mumbles in his sleep sometimes. About…well we’ve all been through a lot. Have to if you’ve made it this far.”

“True. Thanks.”

“Not a problem. Look, I’m gonna deal with those potatoes. Just…sit for a while, okay?”

She shouldn’t have to do this. She’s just a kid. She shouldn’t be taking care of you. As quickly as you’re able you stand and go back to the kitchen where Ellie is mashing the potatoes with some force. As you enter she turns and holds out the fork toward you in a mildly threatening way.

“Don’t apologise,” she commands, as if she somehow knew that would be your first response.

Nodding, you join her at the counter again. “Okay. Thank you. Again. And I just wanna say…” Be brave. Take the plunge. “Obviously that quote was very dear to me once upon a time. Me and my-my wife.” A half formed thought crosses your mind of a bloated, disgusting shape and you shove it away with as much force as you can muster to focus on Ellie, to try and put some distance between what has happened and where you are now.

Her head snaps up again from where she had resumed her task, a tiny crease between her brows. “Your wife? So you’re-“

“Bi. But…I understand what it’s like to navigate certain feelings. So. If you want to talk about anything, I’m happy to listen. I uh…I dated my first girlfriend when I was about your age.”

Ellie’s eyes widen in surprise and then narrow with guarded suspicion. Clearly she hadn’t thought you had picked up on her earlier behaviour.

“Hey, its okay. I won’t tell anyone.”

“Not even Joel?” You’re taken aback by the force at which she hurls the question, and make sure your voice is gentle when you respond.

“Of course not. I won’t say anything you don’t want me to. But…why don’t you want Joel to know?”

She drops her head to avoid your eyes, scuffs her shoe along the floor and you worry that you’ve pushed her too far, that she will close down completely.

“I dunno, I just…worry what he might think? I don’t know how he’d react.”

“You know he loves you right?”

“Shut up,” she huffs in an embarrassed way, a slight flush grazing her upper cheeks as she begins to shove the fork into the potatoes again.

“He does. And I don’t know how you two came to be here together, and I don’t know him as well as you do, but in this case that doesn’t matter. Love like he has for you is acceptance. I’m not saying you should tell him anything if you don’t want to. I’m just saying that I wouldn’t stress too hard over his reaction.”

“Any time.”

Ellie looks up and holds your gaze firmly for a moment, seemingly searching for any trace of falsehood, then visibly relaxes and looks back down at the countertop. “Well…thanks. I guess it’s kinda good to know there’s someone who understands.”

Dinner is served and conversation drifts back into the banal, the easy. You hope that you didn’t freak her out too much, but she seems to be more comfortable with the aftermath of your panic attack than discussion of her feelings toward Joel or Cat or anyone else and you can’t really blame her. In a small community like this, stakes were high in that regard. You couldn’t up and leave if a relationship went south. And while you held on to the belief that Joel would love and accept her no matter what, the same might not be said for everyone in town. Though you wouldn’t put it past Joel to kick someone’s ass if they were cruel to Ellie. You wouldn’t put it past Ellie to get there first either. There was steel at the core of the girl, you could see it in her eyes. The protection of Jackson’s walls (and presumably Joel himself) was allowing her to be a teenager as much as anyone could be in this world, but it was obvious too that she had seen some shit, been through the wringer just as much as anyone in her short life.

You sigh as you survey the sad bed in the bathtub and then climb in, too emotionally weary from keeping those memories at bay to wrestle with anything else. The bed could wait.

She departs a couple of hours later with a promise that she wouldn’t tell Joel about what had transpired and though you hadn’t asked for any such vow, hadn’t wanted to burden her with any kind of secret keeping, you were secretly glad. After having told him you could take care of yourself, hearing about this was NOT the way to cement that notion in his mind.

The house seems a little suffocating again the next day and you decide to go into town, to pick up some supplies, to take a walk, to partake in a small change of scenery. The snow has stopped again, but the sky is still grey and heavy with its promise. You visit the stables, check up on your horse and stroke over the velvet of his neck, bury your face into his comforting scent before brushing him down yourself. You visit the blacksmith, marvel at the rendering of metal that seems like such magic to your uneducated fingers. You stop off at the town’s library, peruse the small selection of DVDs and books and ancient magazines that tell of mindless frippery that is long dead. There is no Keats, but you do find a copy of the Hobbit that you gladly borrow. The person who had filled your bookcase had either really loved romance novels, or had been desperate to get shot of them. Either way, it wasn’t really your first choice of genre.

As you stroll along the main thoroughfare, clutching your precious book to your chest with your gloved hands, you see Maria coming the other way and stop to chat with her.

“Morning. I hear Joel’s planning to take you out once the weather permits,” she says without preamble, vaguely gesturing with her head in what you assume is the general direction of the town outside the walls. Her eyes rake you downward, assessing, calculating, though for what you cannot tell. Its slightly disconcerting and you stumble a little over your words.

“Uh yeah, he mentioned that supplies need to be delivered to the clock tower there.”

“Yup, and to check its not gotten overrun again. If it has, it will be a short trip for you. You’ll have to come back with a larger group.”

You feel the incomprehension clouding your face as you frown. “Well obviously if there’s a swarm we wont be taking them on, but even with a small team of us we can at least try to-“

Your eyes grow wide and she grins more widely as she departs, wishing you luck on your journey, and leaving you standing in the middle of the crowded street with excitement shrouded in apprehension in your heart as you watch her go.

A tiny, knowing smile graces her lips as she interrupts. “There won’t be any team. Joel said it should just be you and him.”

Next chapter

Taglist - @thisshipwillsail316 @prostitute-robot-from-the-future @elegantduckturtle @dihra-vesa @midwesternwitchery @just-here-for-the-moment @eri16 @readsalot73 @littlemisspascal @princessxkenobi @harriedandharassed @pagannightwitch @tentacruels @kirsteng42 @shirks-all-responsibilities @deadhumourist @pedrostories

[jakesuit0]

Morituri Te Salutamus Review

“Morituri Te Salutamus” is one of two episode titles with non-English speaking words in it, and the only episode title with no English words in it. The Latin terminology translates to “We who are about to die, salute you”. Adventure Time season 3 episode 2: We Who Are About to Die, Salute You. That’d be quite the mouthful. The Latin translation fits the Roman theming in this one much better. There’s lots of bits of Latin throughout the episode, such as “eludere” (evasion) and “non pugnant, Flamma” (be not repugnant to him). I like when Adventure Time incorporates different cultures, such as Korean, to expand the world. I don’t think any episode commits to playing with a particular culture as much as this one.

Finn and Jake enter a Roman colosseum. It's up for debate if the arena is a few hundred years old and was merely inspired by ancient Rome, or if this is literally remnants of a colosseum from 3,000ish years ago. The gladiator ghosts are gay, and there is evidence suggesting homosexuality was more socially accepted in ancient Rome. Their names are even taken from Roman warriors from history and fiction. The magical element to the arena was definitely added post-Mushroom War, and the implication at the end is the ghosts had a similar story to Finn and Jake, meaning they weren’t humans from Rome (plus one of them has two heads).

I like how Finn and Jake are smart enough to immediately realize the place is a trap, but are confident enough to still take it on. They’ve clearly earned that confidence (with a strong helping of plot armor) as they succeed where all the gladiator ghosts failed. I like the Fight King, he has a cool design that adds to the episode’s atmosphere. He’s missing an arm, of course his right one. We can piece together the backstory of this place, but Fight King’s role and purpose remains pretty mysterious. It’s the second episode in a row with a king character, and it’s pretty consistent that rulers in Ooo are titled princess or king, rather than prince.

Finn and Jake fight the first pair of gladiator ghosts. The fights throughout this one are pretty fun and dynamic. Finn is strangely not using the Root Sword, but the Steel Sword for the first time. It’s a cool design, even with it weirdly resembling the Night Sword. I love the easy to miss detail that the injuries on each ghost matches the weapon used by the other. One of them refers to the other as their love. The crew were able to sneak in same-sex romance under Cartoon Network’s radar (confirmed canon by Andy Ristanio) and I don’t think it's a coincidence that Rebecca Sugar co-boarded this episode. Along with the Roman theming, my favorite part of the episode is all the hints given to the gladiators’ backstory (like them constantly apologizing to each other and begging for forgiveness). There’s enough pieces to figure out the history, the episode doesn’t need to make it explicit.

Finn and Jake have been quibbling over Jake’s non commitment to following through with Finn’s plans. Jake just wants to have fun, he doesn’t take the adventures as seriously as Finn. Jake lets Finn do all the work, so he can stay underground singing songs and execute his nonsensical plan of forming a molten hula hoop for morale. I like how passive their conflict is, they never actually get mad at each other, even with Finn’s deceit later on. Jake sings “On a Tropical Island”, another highlight of the episode. It’s hard to truly enjoy the song in the episode itself, as it's broken into four different scenes. But, it's great listening to the entire thing outside the context of the episode. It still stands as the best Jake song of the series. This is the song that people should be asking John DiMaggio to sing at every panel, not “Bacon Pancakes” every fucking time.

Finn is seemingly mind controlled by Fight King. Fight King has Finn fight Jake to the death, like he forced onto the gladiator couples. Add Finn stabbing the dummy Jake and trying to kill the real Jake onto the pile of Jake death foreshadowing. Jake’s confused reaction to his brother trying to kill him, in contrast to how easy going Finn was in his conflict with Jake, is heartbreaking. Finn tricks Fight King into giving him his sword, which seems to contain his soul. The sword’s rune reads “to fight is to live”, and apparently Fight King literally can’t live without it. Finn smashes it, killing Fight King and his power over the arena. Finn was faking being mind controlled. We saw Fight King’s sword magically alter Finn, so he must have just had the willpower to resist it. We’ll see another type of magic overcome Finn for real and cause him to act in a similar manner in Elements. The Gladiator Ghosts are a really tragic element of the story, so it’s nice to see them freed at the end, presumably going to a dead world. Missed opportunity to not have them cameo in “Together Again”. 

This one’s story isn’t anything special, but the Roman theming, backstory, and song elevates it up from just a solid entry to a really good one.

Grade: A-

[the-fandom-crossroads]

Back from seeing tmnt mutant mayhem and no spoilers. But I am a little disappointed at what I just got. I was hopeful going in! I knew everyone was talking about how cool it was to have the turtles be portrayed by actual teenagers. But man did it just make me want to watch the '90s or '07 movies again.

If you like Rise you might enjoy this movie or if you're nostalgic for the 80s show and no other version of the turtles. But this thing is chocked full of dated pop culture references. Which yeah pop culture is part of tmnt. But this isn't smart or witty pop culture references. This is the common ones that show up in these kids animated movies the twerking, the references to tictok, bts, etc. All jokes go way to long and even the slightly funny ones get hammered into the ground. Not to mention the gross out humor?

WARNING if you have any phobia related to getting sick or seeing someone else get sick DON'T WATCH THIS MOVIE. The big one happens in the middle of the movie lasting for over 2 minutes of them repeatedly replaying the moment of the person getting sick with various zoom ins and slow-mo. Because of course we want to see and hear that repeatedly. There is also a cockroach mutant that constantly spits up gunk on things and other characters along with a moment clearly meant for the 3-d version. I mention this one because most warnings have only mentioned the first large instance. But the cockroach is around for the entire second half of the movie and it triggered my germophobia just as bad as the one long scene.

I just yeah. There were some cool ideas in there somewhere but it got buried under unfunny seth rogen jokes. I'm not going to blame the kids because it's clear what jokes were written by adults trying to be hip and cool. And the one's held on for too long were the responsibility of editing to cut down. Like the movie straight up pauses at times to go through a full bit that could have been fine as the first funny line and the response but the script keeps going for multiple more lines if not full minutes of them sitting on these jokes. Which again isn't the kids fault even if they were ad-libbing it's still the job of the director seth rogen to know where to cut down on jokes to help with the pacing and he just didn't.

Sorry if this comes off as like a negative nancy but was hoping for this turtles reboot to be aimed at fans older than 13 and it clearly wasn't, again. Which is fine folks who enjoyed it I'm glad you had fun. And at the very least this is pushing me towards rewatching 07 and two of the tv shows (I'll let you guess which two).

[mrhowells]

Smallville 5x01

Lana is truly in the trenches isn't she😬

DON'T MAKE ME CRY WITH JONATHAN X MARTHA MOMENTS

not the voice crack from Jonathan when he asks "can you help me get her out of here?"😭

Chloe is lucky she didn't freeze to death before waking up the snow💀

LMAOOOO Jor El is such a clown, just let Clark get Chloe home real quick and then come back like what's the issue???

"You must return to me before the yellow sun sets." "I'll be back. I promise."

yeahhhhh I don't think you will be back Clark, call it a hunch🤡

Lex took some gaslighting classes from Clark💀

"I figured if you wanted to tell me (pop culture reference I don't understand without subtitles) you would when you were ready. On your terms, not on mine." "You're a good friend Chloe."

now not to be that person but...

we all know who we have to thank here, right? We all remember who told Chloe to wait?😌😌

"What about Lana? Does she know?"

GIRL-

Yeah, he really doesn't look comfortable being called a superhero at this point.

"If more humans were like you, the world would be a better place."

let him know!!!!!

cute.

waiiiit I don't remember what happened to Lionel at the end of last season

Lionel in his oracle era apparently... good for him?

Okkk Lana is not playing

LOIIIISS

screaming crying falling to my knees

"put the nice man down🥰😇" LOIS PLS

AHJHSAJHS LOOK AT THIS💀

Uuuuh I see what Lana was doing there, smart

where's Jason btw, did he just get completely pulverized by that meteor?

Lex you need to give this a rest pleaseee😭

"Why do I get this nagging feeling you're being less than honest with me?"

The way that Lex manages to stay this composed even when he knows Clark is lying through his teeth tho

"If you're my friend, just tell me the truth."

I could turn this around and say if you're his friend, just let him be when he's clearly not comfortable👀

I get both sides honestly. CAN THEY NOT FIGHT PLEASE IT'S NOT GOOD FOR MY BLOOD PRESSURE

Clois hugggggg

(I'm really surviving on scraps here aren't I?💀)

OOOOh right he was supposed to be back before sunset😬

"You can get hurt now. You're vulnerable." "Isn't that what it means to be human?"

I just want to hug him this is so sad😭😭

"Clark, really you shouldn't have." "Actually, I didn't." "Too sweet for words."

LOOOOLL

"The doctor says I shouldn't talk too much." "... oh gee that's too bad😐"

"You were there for my parents." FYI THEY'RE HER PARENTS TOO NOW CLARK

Lois babygirl light of life don't leaveeeee

rip💀

Wait what??????

This is about the Genevieve thing right?

Making out right next to Jason's death announcement LMAOOOO

it's what that crusty man deserves😌

"No more secrets. No more lies."

I can't with this man, he probably really believes that there's nothing to tell now that he's powerless😶

LANA IN HER ALIEN HUNTER ERA WHERE'S THAT GIF I USED FOR LEX A FEW SEASONS BACK HOLD ON

Braniac hiiiiiii✨✨

Can I just say though, I can't believe Lionel is still such a big part of this show💀

like idc how good the actor is WHY TF ARE THEY GIVING HIM WEIRD ORACLE STORYLINES I DON'T NEED IT

[asnowperson]

Hagio Moto's Onshitsu (1975)

As the crappiest translator of all times, even I want to do something to bring 1970s manga to a wider audience. I'm too scared to get into those long-ass shoujo epics, I'm not sure if I can last through not so long-ass shoujo manga, and some manga simply terrify me because I'm afraid I can't translate them with my language skills and lack of culture. For the time being, I tried my hand at translating this Hagio Moto one shot from 1975, and my lovely group, Decadence Scans, helped me get this out into the world <3 Click here or here to read it. I'd like to thank Kanedian, Roze and Attolia again for indulging me and working on this story. But I still need to gush over this manga a little bit more.

Hug the otouto. This is so beautiful that I can look at these panels for hours.

I've liked Hagio Moto ever since I read Zankoku na Kami ga Shihai Suru, and been meaning to read more of her. The problem is, I'm very lazy and have read so little so far. I'm basic and as I was looking through MU to choose a Hagio title to read, and Onshitsu piqued my interest. Because it checks two boxes: It's by Hagio, and it's BL. I've always read about the bishounen culture of the 70s, but I know so little about the actual BL works from that period. I checked Hagio-sensei's fan site, and this site in English that is full of old shoujo we'll never see, and bought the relevant one shot collection. (By the way, buying JP e-books is easy. Do it even if you don't speak Japanese and support the mangaka. How can you say you love them if you don't even buy their books?)

Onshitsu is basically about MC's cute step-otouto getting mindfucked by some weird-ass rose-spirit-thing. Onshitsu hits all those sweet 70s shoujo spots: European setting, blond bishounen, /fa/ bishounen, onii-san, bishounen tears, innocent kisses, creating drama while things could be solved through communication just so they can do dramatic poses, gratiutious references to Greek mythology, rich people, smart people, mystery,suffering, a shit ton of roses and other floral arrangements, bad ends, emotional conclusions... Couple that with Hagio-sensei's magnificent page layouts, and you get a very enjoyable read. This is not the best manga or anything, but I think it reflects pretty well the tastes of that time period. I mean, this is the kind of stuff I wanted to read to understand how BL tones became a thing in shoujo manga during the 1970s.

Later, I got Alois, the one shot compilation it was first published in too! I can't wait to read it. Here's the first page of Onshitsu with the dustjacket of the volume.

I can talk about every panel in this manga, but allow me talk about a couple panels/pages I really, really liked:

I had to stop and say "WOW!" on this page when I first read this manga. The way she drew Lange and the spirit's hair and bodies all entwined like that is very aesthetic and sensual. You can feel the intimacy, but no vulgarity. I particularly like those very thicc lines on the middle left part of the page. I feel so doki doki when I can see how the artist must have drawn something through the lines.

I think it's about José's straight, long hair and the way he holds Lange's head, but the kiss above is very cute. And the flare pants.

I like the despair-ridden José here very much. And these lines sound 2000% better in Japanese than I could do them justice. Seriously, I hope I didn't screw this up too much while translating, but no one ever touches this stuff. I felt like I had to do something.

My pilgrimage to the 1970s for more BL-flavored shoujo will be long and arduous, but I will continue. I hope this little contribution makes someone happy.

[pseudonymphomania]

You can ignore this ask if im bothering, but whats your minor policy here? Like, can minors only not interact with the nsfw posts or not at all?

The short answer:

Sfw = ✅✅✅✅✅ minors can interact

Nsfw = 🚫🚫🚫🚫🚫 minors shouldn't interact

Welcome to my kingdom, anon!!!!!!! 😊

The long answer for people who like essays:

Note: I'm going to use this as a FAQ so the "you" I'm referring to is the General You and not anon.

“Do you mind if your work gets seen by minors?” Is actually a question I’ve been asked a lot because I write and draw saucy works and the accountability has seemingly been shifted from legal guardians onto randoms like me. They say it takes a village to raise a child after all. This leads easily into the subjects of censorship, human sexuality, responsibility in the digital age, parasocial boundaries, society and individuality, proliferation of paywalls that rope off the internet and free flow of information… and so on. So many subjects, so little time, and yet so intersectional. I see it often, the ubiquitous “minors dni”, even on people’s pages that don’t have explicit material; I’m guessing it’s because people don’t want the headache, but any dni is as good as a line drawn in the sand, a magic circle where all your morals live, until the wind blows it away. Have you ever been asked “are you over the age of 18?” I pressed that button just the other day and just as easily as I had when I was a minor. “Do you mind if your work gets seen by minors?” is the question I’m asked, like my saucy work is a landmine for someone to accidentally step on and to which I can’t help but imagine a different question: “Do you mind if a minor seeks it out?”*

I’m not anyone’s parent and it is not my responsibility to take care of a stranger’s welfare. You have to understand that the internet is a grey place. I don’t know who’s looking. I’d rather not know.**

I tag my smut and label it with a 🔞 with the implicit meaning being don’t look at things you’re not supposed to be looking at. I won’t ever know for certain if a minor looked, pressing the proverbial “yes I’m over the age of 18”, unless that minor was a fool and broadcasted their vulnerability to the world at large, interacting with my unsafe works knowing that their profile reflected that same perceived lack of impulse control. Goodness, if they were smart, they’d be liars.

Even so, I was young once; I lived like the puritanical ideal while also having seen society’s forbidden knowledge [sex things, oh my!]. No matter how well someone hides the cookies, someone will always climb the fridge to get them, and if I had fallen off the fridge, no one should blame the baker. And no one should tell the baker that they should stop baking, especially in their own bakery.

We exist in a moment in time when even payment processors have a say in what kind of content is distributed and how that affects art as a whole, eating into adult spaces [recently the Gumroad nsfw policy leaving nsfw artists reeling] and especially encrouching on queer spaces. Imagine the amount of chargebacks various nsfw gets because sex is so vilified in society that people have to panic when caught oh I'm really not into big anime boobs dw, oh i didnt actually commission this nsfw artist and waste 20 hours of their precious time and labour, oh i need my money back because...; I’m sure the money system abhors it for a money reason, but the root of it is the proliferation of Protect the Children™ used by puritanical opportunists. You the individual affect the wider culture as a whole through the groups you belong to, even if you don't intend to.

I’m asking for people to be smart, to think of their own well-being, but to also think of where they draw the line. Filter the word “smut” and “nsft” and "suggestive" and you should be safe on my page even though the sauce is rare in my Tumblr. This goes for everyone this applies to and not just minors.

Welcome to my kingdom. 😌

Sincerely,

Yuki, your friendly everyday sex-positive asexual

*Yes, I mind. But it’s not my problem.

**Showing nsfw to a minor is illegal and people risk trouble for doing so [lack of mens rea notwithstanding in a court of public opinion], but I have 5 different social medias. I cannot play detective and sift through every follow, like, reblog. That's impossible. Make it easier on me.

I warn. It is your responsibility to comply.

Thank you kindly!

[youraverageaemondsimp]

michael gavey x bipoc reader headcanon. an academic rivals to lovers story. 🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰inspired by this: https://www.tiktok.com/@radmartin_/video/7328829549234441515

the two of them met in the maths class. michael is a natural born genius. reader worked incredibly hard to be there. nevertheless, she could go toe to toe with him in maths. she fulfils every expectation of her typical ethnic group, which was being good at maths.

rivalry got a bit intense. sometimes, the professor had to break them up.

michael gavey ended up bringing some crunchy bars to reader. reader initially rejected it because she was irritated at him and wanted to be left alone. somehow, michael felt rejected and didn't understand why.

michael to reader after a test: "i got 98%! what did you get?"

reader: "i got 100%".

michael: "o-o-okay. that's fine".

reader: "no, no, no. you got 98% because that's all you can get. i got 100% because that's all there is to get".

entire class on the sick burn: aWWWWwWwWwWwWw!

michael one day: "we need partners for this math project and you're working with me".

reader, insert eye roll: "why? is it because you need my intelligence to help you get a good grade?"

michael: "uh, no! it's because everyone else is stupid!"

michael: "so, how's physics?"

reader, looking confused: "you're not in my section! how did you know my schedule?"

michael, runs away, blushing.

michael began to notice what she wore. she wore a modernised traditional clothing of a scholar from her culture. she looked every bit like the scholar she wanted to be.

michael, blushing from head to toe: "you look...nice".

learned that her ethnic name actually means smart or scholar.

michael then began to join on her religious celebrations, complimenting her traditional clothing and the flowers that she wove into her hair.

michael tried to impress her with his knowledge about her religion, only to have him fumbling around to his nervousness. not because she is pretty or anything, much to reader's amusement.

they were then asked if they were a couple.

michael and reader vehemently denied it, both of them blushing.

but, of course, all of the aunties in her temple only encouraged them even more.

michael then joined her for her country's version of valentine's day. she looked beautiful. like a fairy with her ethereal robes, hair and makeup done. the two of them enjoyed their snacks.

the two of them enjoyed her country's snacks. reader now needs to keep an eye that he doesn't over indulge in other things other than a crunchy bar now.

movie nights where she now has to bring those candies that michael loves now.

she also brings out those desserts that michael fell incredibly hard for. luckily, she could make one. michael ended up gorging the entire thing, much to reader's amusement and delight.

chatting deeply into the night where they discuss the scholarly history of their respective countries.

michael learned that reader went to saltburn and was very upset.

"you shouldn't go there because they are filled with loooooosers!"

"dude! i have to make connections for future references!"

"and also, we have that group project! we can do that by the lake! and bring those snacks as well!"

"are you asking me out on a date?"

"uh-no!"

"you know, for a genius, you are incredibly stupid when it comes to stuff like this. yes, michael. i would love to go out with you," before kissing him on the cheek.

HE'S SO AWKWARD LMFAODOWOD 😭😭😭 thankfully reader is there to catch his little signs 😳

Imagine how smart their kid would if they had one 💀 like minimum IQ 180 at birth/j HASHAH

[seeingteacupsindragons]

A friend of mine cobbled together a reading challenge for writers (and any other storyteller, really) to help us learn about worldbuilding.

I’ve just finished the first book for the challenge this year, so I though I would write a bit about what I learned from it, what I can take from it, etc.

“Marr, that’s a book report.”

Okay, so it’s a book report. What’s wrong with book reports?

Anyway, I started with a collection of Japanese fairy tales, mostly because I had it on my shelves anyway because I picked it up a few years ago at Kinokuniya and hadn’t gotten around to it, and I wanted to expose myself more to different folktales from different cultures.

I think this counts for this challenge for the following reasons:

So many writers use folktales to explain the myth or backstory of their worlds. So many. Being able to understand how they’re structured and written is, thus, very important

Folktales are really valuable at showing what a culture values, especially with the ones that have lasted through centuries or millennia: these are things that resonate with their cultures and have messages older generations want to pass on

They often show a certain image of how a culture views their own past (ahistorical as it often is)

There are so many references to these things to build on

So let’s get into the actual book!

I have to say, I’m not...the biggest fan of this book. Aside from the mess of typoes/grammar errors/spelling/etc. in the book, there’s a certain kind of...dumbing down of a lot of the cultural aspects. I suspect this is the way the editor chose to translate stories, thinking it would better translate for kids of other cultures, but, well, I’m passingly familiar with a lot of vague folk creatures from Japan, and using “fairy” instead of “youkai” and changing some of the animals, etc., just felt off to me.

So I suppose that’s an important takeaway for this challenge: even someone from within the culture might end up removing elements they feel are too foreign or special or different when sharing it along with other people. It’s not only that outsiders misinterpret things: they’re given different versions. I can think of a bunch of ways to use that in fiction, even if I’m not sure I will.

Again, as I’ve been some sort of weird Japanophile since I was pretty young, I’m at least passingly familiar with a lot of the values Japan tends to elevate. Not all of them, and not in the same way a Japanese person would understand them, but I’ve been exposed to enough Japanese media and writing about and from Japanese people and the language itself to sort of have osmosis-ed a fair amount. But it’s very interesting to see how that plays out in folktalkes.

For example: almost none of the stories in that book focused on romantic love at all. It was almost entirely familiar between kids and their parents and their parents and their kids. One story ended with a marriage, but the happy part was introducing a kid to his grandfather before the grandfather passed, showing him his legacy was continuing. This is pretty distinct from all the princes and princesses in Western folktales getting married and falling deeply in love and proving it magically. There was basically no “in thankfulness to your service, you can marry my daughter!” It was “In thankfulness for your service, you will be well-known and well-taken care of, you’re awesome.”

There’s a lot of stories in which the hero doesn’t end up ruling anything or owning anything. The hero ends up serving his lord amazingly well,  and that’s the happy ending. And while we’re on that note: the female protagonists are not there to be Clever. The clever women tend to be antagonists, but the male protagonists are allowed to be clever. The Good Women are loving and faithful and kind and oftentimes just not very smart--but they’re so goodhearted no one cares. The ideal woman should be good at art and faithful to serving their men and lords and superiors, and not decide to do too much. But the Good Men are also loyal and devoted servants to their lords: it’s Just The Done Thing.

I know that might be a little twisted in retellings. Maybe the originals weren’t like this--plenty of European folklore has gotten twisted. But it seems to be at least one version shared now--one that they wanted to share with outsiders, even.

Additionally, there is no idea of “growing up and leaving the home” here...even the people who leave their home expect to return to it, not to find their fortunes elsewhere. And if they do find them elsewhere, they basically import their parents and families there with them to keep the family units intact. They do not forget about taking care of their parents: filial duty is important in Japan and legally enshrined in a way it isn’t here in America, and you can really see that. One Evil Stepmother is punished for her wicked ways by her child dying, not being injured or impoverished or whatever. She lost her child, because that was the most valuable thing she had.

So: a lot of stuff I kind of already knew, but I got to see it played out here in folktales in a new way, which was cool. And see different kinds of folktales: sure, they’re all kind of set “a long time ago”, there’s still demigods and lots of sentient animals and gifts from Supernatural Beings--but the people do different things, are punished for different things, and have different goals.

I think in general that’s an important thing to remember in writing anything: the narrative in your head that first occurs to you doesn’t have to be the way it goes. And if you’re writing more than one culture interacting, they’re going to class, and these are some of the places and subtle ways they can clash.

That aside: there are a few stories that are rather similar...there’s more than one about a a daughter with an Evil Stepmother and navigating that and being Good despite abuse. There’s handful of very colonialist narratives about defeating rebelling peoples (and one explicitly naming the Ainu people...yikes) and “uniting” peoples under them. Not a lot on actually...how to treat the people under them, or what any of their governance looks like...just people like them because they’re the ruler, obvs.

There’s my brief book report today. More will be forthcoming as I work through the rest of these. Perhaps this was enlightening to you. Perhaps not. Perhaps it gave you something to think about at least.

[abecedarienne]

Media literacy

"Libraries are important in today's society because they give people access to information they wouldn't have otherwise!"

Is it possible to talk about the importance of libraries without a facile invocation of "morals"--aka economically-validated liberal platitudes? Libraries are one of the last standing institutions that prevent the American public from seeing all forms of media as products that are trying to sell them things, or as legs that hold up the structure that tries to sell them things. Like cute animal videos or newly released HD photos of space or weekend plans or the weather, libraries are a cultural reference that serve as lubricant for a conversation that wants to be more than just small talk but doesn't know how (and is too afraid to try).

A few months ago I was standing around in the apartment of a friend thrice removed. Being in the city, the living room felt more like a hallway. It was 80% guys, most of whom had girlfriends (where these girls were, I don't know). At one end of the hallway was a TV blasting some football game that captivated almost everyone in that tiny space. At the other end was the kitchen with a few awkward stragglers. I grabbed a drink and camped out there.

Some sweaty, drugged out guy started talking to me. Two of his friends jumped in and out--a conversational gang bang. Someone brought up the climate change girl "owning" the slimy podcast guy on Twitter. "It was awesome," they said, hoping they wouldn't end up with a similar fate after talking to me. The sweaty guy brought up that he's from "that school district in Texas" that's trying to ban gay books. "I can't believe they're actually trying to do that" he said. "I can," I told him, with an eye on being entertainingly inflammatory. I started to explain myself but stopped once I saw that his attention had wandered over to the TV that everyone was yelling at. He turned back to me: "so what do you do?" I gave him my canned answer. We got to talking about social media (again), AI, ChatGPT. His friends are still jumping in and out, calling things "crazy" and "out of touch." After that point, I don't remember who said what, what anyone said to me, nor what I said to them. It was limp conversation that went nowhere and meant nothing. Throughout the night the sweaty guy kept trying to talk to me, slinking away every time he realized he'd humiliated himself. But he'd just come back to do it again. A whack-a-mole that wanted to be battered. No one slept with me that night. I went to a party full of guys and all I got was a bukkake of sanctioned outrage.

I saw a stack of paperback books next to the bed of one of the hosts. Probably the only books in that three-person FiDi apartment. It was a prime selection from the self-help list of NYT bestsellers. When he fucks his girlfriend in that bed, and she closes her eyes as she forces out the moan she heard in an "real amateur couple making love real" video last night, he can look over and pride himself on the stack of Thinking Fast and Slow, and pop science books from PhDs and PsyDs and MDs and BSs, and shit with "Habits" and "Mindset" and "You" in the title. None of the spines had creases.

I'm being a snob, I know. But reading is reading, right? "At least he's reading something." This is why we have books and libraries and e-readers and the Internet, so that people have access to information. But more importantly: so that we can impress people we want to fuck with smart media choices. "What did you think about it?" "What? Sorry, I can't hear you. Everyone's too loud in here."

[blazehedgehog]

Going off a few of your earlier questions, what's your general take on localization? How do you think localization should be handled when a severe cultural difference comes up in the script? Also, do you think game localizers should opt for what River City Girls Zero did in offering a more literal translation of the script alongside a more localized version?

A "Literal vs. Casual" translation option is pretty smart. I didn't know River City Girls Zero did that. One of the leads of River City Girls had a weird interaction on twitter and then nuked their account over it, which looked suspicious as hell to me so I kind of shut off my interest for that game series.

To me, localization is about taking material from one culture and getting it to make sense for another culture. While you should preserve the original culture to some extent (since that's part of the source material's identity) you need to make sure it's not overwhelming or alienating to the target culture, too.

If you are localizing to maintain the language structure of the source material, you're doing it wrong. If you're localizing and have to put subtitle notes explaining jokes or references, you're doing it wrong. Maintain the flavor and maintain the identity but otherwise make the viewing experience as seamless as humanly possible. Translate the intent, not the exact words.

I think people who favor literal translations get all bent out of shape about the word "intent" because it's a fuzzy definition and can create a slippery slope. To that I say: most writers probably aren't as precious about their choice of words as literal translators are. I have written over 7500 posts for this blog, literally millions of words, probably even billions, and I would say that less than 1% of everything I've ever written was me slowly choosing my words with care. It usually doesn't matter that much. It can, sure, but only a very small percentage of the time. It's okay to exercise some wiggle room and use some artistic license. It won't be the end of the world.

How do you think bad anime dubs even happen? Because somebody licenses the show, rewrites the scripts, asks the original production studio "is this okay?" and the studio just shrugs and goes "yeah whatever." They don't care as much as you think they do.

And then you'd hit situations like Ghost Stories where the original scripts were damaged, lost, or otherwise deemed unusable, so the studio went "Eh, just make something up."

A lot of literal translators nowadays seem to be carrying a torch from the days of anime and game translations that don't really exist very much anymore. I grew up in that era, too. The DiC dub of Sailor Moon, the early days of Saban/Ocean's Dragon Ball Z, the time Fox Kids literally tried to turn Escaflowne in to a Saturday Morning Cartoon...

Or all those JRPGs that turned alcohol in to "juice" or "tea" or "rootbeer" at the bare minimum.

I get it. I was there. I know what an awful, stressful, stupid era it was. But people get weird and bent out of shape about censorship, because they're being told it's something they could have, but aren't allowed to have. Censorship ignites a jealousy about what's on the other side of the fence, even if censorship can be legitimately helpful at times.

So we get these militant people who only want everything that's pure, raw, uncut, uncompromised, and maintaining as much of its original shape as it can, even when that strips a thing of most of its mainstream appeal because it's barely comprehensible by most people.

And it starts to feel like elitism. A secret handshake between people who have taught themselves to understand things like "You are my nakama."

But it's all performative! The war is over! You can relax now! But some people never will, I guess. Some people will always think they're too cool for "mainstream appeal." Some people like the secret handshake, and want to protect it.

That's not who I am.

[villains4hire]

Buck Barley (Helluva Boss OC)

1 - This guy is powerful, but killable through plotting, progression, but generally is reserved to be permanently killed when your character wants their position or can simply demote them. As you can instead while answering to Stella can take him as your own minion as a reward.

2 - If replacing him in his position as the cannery's Chief Foreman? You can't shut things down or interfere with the efficiency of the cannery, but you could make it ethically run for the workers more, for example. If your character is intimate or close to Stella as family or otherwise? You can see fit to change things IC with interactions with Buck Barley by throwing your weight around after discussing it with me. As Stella would allow aid since she's rather busy/her responsibilities stack rather high, and then the rest goes to her own alone time/recreational time. So things often have to be run by her minions and how they see fit, so long as they get the job done.

3 - Buck Barley isn't his true name and his real name doesn't matter to him, honestly. It was just a name he took as the Chief Foreman of the new canneries he began engineering for Stella to help manage Hell's population, even if a near impossible task.

4 - I want to make it clear that while Buck Barley at times is against the concept of 'Unions', I am, however, not.

Faceclaim: the picture above.

Do I want them to die: Sure, but plotted even if temporary. Will I have/get icons: I have around 90. Tag: cold cuts - cold cuts 'insert rper's character last and first initials here then a single digit number. Age: He's been around for a couple thousand years working for Stella, fairly old. Sex: Demonic. Gender: Any Pronouns. Race: Wrath and Greed Swine Demon, with a sub-facet of Gluttony. Sexuality: Any Adult he enjoys. Personality traits: Talks in all caps constantly. Ragey in a funny way. Talks with a boston accent, albeit a booming, distorted rage voice, as that accent manifested during the industrial revolution as humanity evolved yet again. Loyal. Brutal. Loves to eat meat. Has little concern for others outside of his own. Takes care of his own. Despises traitors. Deceptively smart. Has no love for the weak. Enjoys torture but specifically fine cuts in his victims. Is bit of a work-holic as he loves his job. Likes coffee. Working out. Loves hellbucks/soulbucks. Greedy. Merciless. A bit comedic at times. Relatively understands human culture and references it at times, mostly to be relatable to his hellborn workers/sinner demons. Manipulates even people he cares for or his workers to what he sees as their own benefit. Curses a lot. Mental traits: Was never born as a human, so he's alien in mindset, but can replicate human aspects as part of putting his workers at ease. His true mindstate and personality tends to shine through when doing what he loves: torturing the damned or repurposing them. Physical traits: Stands around 15'0, but can run on all fours standing around 9'0 when he does. Wears a worker's flat cap and a usually blood-stained generic worker's clothes. Powers: -

Wrath: Extreme Strength: he could level a building with a hard enough punch. Extreme Durability: he could take set building to the face and keep fighting. Rage Induced Death: as part of his blessings from a Higher Rage Demon? He can keep fighting even while dead or inflict self-death at will, but his body eventually fails and then violently explodes as part of his greed poison power. This explosion has enough force to blow up a small house and often turns anyone hit or the surrounding environment into golden rubble. Feel the Meat (Gluttony Sub-Facet Combined with Rage): he can eat meat, souls or his own canned meat to regenerate rapidly. Blood Sense: anything living, or especially bleeding, he can track and chase. - Greed: I got a stock in the bank: In his private money/gold reserves? He can regenerate from his soul bucks/hellbucks or his own personal gold piles. He often will do this if angelic weaponry comes into play and he's at a disadvantage. As if killed with angelic weaponry? He still very much will die. Innate Diplomacy: as a greed demon? He's pretty convincing and knows how to argue, lead and appeal to peoples' wants. Could serve as a life-coach, coach, rage spotter to Stella's closer figures. Gold Poison Blood: in his tusks and blood? He produces a poison that slowly turns people into gold overtime, to which he can smell and track afterward. The gold has no value on its own, but combined with the essence of those killed, as it doesn't take souls? Does it gain value. Gold and Money Sense: any form of currency, even from another dimension or plane? He can sniff out. - Technical Skills and Weapons: Weaponry: Wields a classic rage demon cleaver that can cleave a car in half or a small building. Has a hook to grab people with from a great distance. Has a gatling gun he'll swap to or a rapid-firing rocket launcher for his hook. He usually doesn't break out the angelic corrupted variants of his cleaver or a large hand cannon that fires angelic rounds unless he feels the need to. As perma-killing Hellborn or even Sinners with potential isn't his goal, it's self-defense against an actual threat or carrying out Stella's will. Expert Forger of Weapons and Corrupted Angelic Weaponry: all of his weapons he's created on his own, including angelic weaponry he's melted down and corrupted gathered by his workers after purges. He can indeed create weapons for other characters as well. Expert Infernal Machine Worker and Designer: he's forged new machines, often specializing in torturing sinners, but now has reused those skills for the cannery to turn sinners into canned meat for insta-sin or SPIM as the younger sinners and hellborn call it. He could use these skills to build machines for other people potentially of varying natures depending.

-

Notable Swine Demon Traits:

His Gold Poison is also in his large tusks other than his blood.

He has large jaws and could very much use them to eat a car.

Immune to most poisons, flames, lava and forms of pain.

- Motivations: To eat meat and torture sinners as an art. He's a simple swine of simple pleasure for what gets him through the day as a working demon. Has his hobbies like gardening and a few others like, picked it up from Stolas, though he despises Stolas as he sees him as a traitor. Backstory:

While a rather old, but not ancient demon? Buck Barley has earned his position, starting from near the very bottom as a Hellborn. He was the lowest of the low when it came to demons right next to Imps nearly, but not quite. It's only through his own determination, merciless pursuit of power and forging the contractual bonds that he has did he get the training for his technical skills, power increases overtime that he did. So while one could question if he earned it? He certainly took it into his own hands, and that's all he needs to know. 'Honor' and 'Code of Conduct' were for the guys up top as he didn't have the strength to afford back then, as while he does now? It matters little to him, he was a creature of habit. So Buck Barley while has some standards, there's probably nothing he won't put onto his torture racks, but these days? He's entered the cannery business as his stockades remain empty, but his stocks regarding food on the other hand that he pushes thousands out on the daily per factory? That's a different story to tell.

[scripted-downfall]

Robin anon here. I adore Ten and Donna's chaotic friendship. What do you think a meeting between Robin and Steve and Ten and Donna would look like?

Oh, that's an awesome thought experiment; thank you! I think that they'd get along really well. Ten and Robin would both be on the same side of the personality scale, given that they both have the same tendency to ramble, the same passion for languages and culture, similar wit (verging on casual rudeness at times... I love them both, but affectionate bluntness is definitely their mutual trait), etc. They'd probably mutually rant about anything they got started talking about, and the time would fly by without really being registered.

However, when you asked the question, the thing that impressed itself most upon me is that Donna would have a lot to say to Steve (in a wholesome way since I'm assuming this would be set sometime season three of ST or later, and his redemption arc, shall we say, has already been pretty heavily developed by then). I know in advance that I'm going to struggle to make this coherent, but here's my best attempt:

Donna is very much not set up to have it easy. She struggles in the show, from external expectations --- not having noticed the various signs of otherworldly activity happening around her, casually being put down by those around her (not Wilf, bless him, but everyone else), not being "conventionally successful" --- and from an internalization of those views --- calling herself "just a temp" and putting down her skills, "shouting at the world because no one's listening", etc. --- despite it being buried beneath her fiery personality. And yet she's an awesome companion --- she's my favorite, though I get that some people don't like her --- in pretty much every sense of the word. She has the practical know-how that the Doctor can sometimes get lost without (e.g. he's sitting there trying over and over again to sonic the wooden door in the Vashta Nerada ep, while she just kicks it down; searching the files in the Sontaaran two-parter; the typing skills that help her return the stolen planets). She's willing to stand up to him when he's wrong, and to agitate for change regardless (e.g. trying to save somebody, anybody from Pompeii, etc). And she's just caring, for everyone (e.g. helping the Ood, talking to and boosting Agatha Christie herself, befriending Miss Evangelista in the library, fighting against ridiculous odds in the "Turn Left" alternate reality, etc.)

And don't get me wrong: I love Robin, Dustin, and the others. But they do often tend on the... sharp... end of teasing. It certainly wouldn't be easy to be surrounded by child prodigies while having struggled in school, not gone to college, etc. I don't think people would disagree if I said that they often expect Steve to know stuff just because they know it --- I mean, Dustin even does that with the other party members, as shown through his "how do you not know this" tone in s1 when dealing with the compasses, on into s4 on a number of issues --- and shoot down his rather out-of-the-box (though not necessarily wrong) ideas whenever they come up (e.g. "maybe he's a clockmaker" "I think you cracked the case there, Steve"). And I know that a lot of this is intended affectionately, but even affectionate teasing can wear, and it's bound to take some degree of a toll.

So I think that Donna would look at Steve and see someone in a similar position. She'd see the way his smile sometimes strains whenever the others act like something he didn't understand was common knowledge, or the confused look in his eyes when they refer to something he doesn't get but he doesn't want to ask the question. And I think she'd have the objective view to see the ways in which he's more capable than they are (e.g. knowing the practical things, like Skull Rock's location, or protecting the party from the physical dangers) instead of just the ways in which they're more book-smart. And I think that he'd be able to help her in return, in much the same way. It's really easy to, if in Donna's/Steve's position, not notice when other people are being rude to them, but to notice it for other people; I think that they'd be able to provide an external opinion for each other on their treatment.

idk if this answers your question suitably --- it's just my first rambles, and isn't very plot-oriented... if you want elaboration or just a different answer, feel free to send another ask; I love the question, and I could probably go on long enough as to be excessive --- but I hope it was enjoyable nonetheless... Thank you for the ask :)

[darth-jess-book-reviews]

REVIEW: The Mind of a Bee by Lars Chittka

Book Summary (Provided by Goodreads)

A rich and surprising exploration of the intelligence of bees

Most of us are aware of the hive mind―the power of bees as an amazing collective. But do we know how uniquely intelligent bees are as individuals? In The Mind of a Bee , Lars Chittka draws from decades of research, including his own pioneering work, to argue that bees have remarkable cognitive abilities. He shows that they are profoundly smart, have distinct personalities, can recognize flowers and human faces, exhibit basic emotions, count, use simple tools, solve problems, and learn by observing others. They may even possess consciousness.

Taking readers deep into the sensory world of bees, Chittka illustrates how bee brains are unparalleled in the animal kingdom in terms of how much sophisticated material is packed into their tiny nervous systems. He looks at their innate behaviors and the ways their evolution as foragers may have contributed to their keen spatial memory. Chittka also examines the psychological differences between bees and the ethical dilemmas that arise in conservation and laboratory settings because bees feel and think. Throughout, he touches on the fascinating history behind the study of bee behavior.

Exploring an insect whose sensory experiences rival those of humans, The Mind of a Bee reveals the singular abilities of some of the world’s most incredible creatures.

My Review: 4/5 stars

"The Mind of a Bee" is an absolutely incredible book about (you guessed it) the minds of bees! A very deep delve into the sensory world of bees, you start to understand what is important to them and how they perceive the world. Sometimes this book had some sciency references that were a little hard for a lay person like me to follow, but overall this book was very easy to understand and was written very well. I also learned some amazing things, and I'll try to be less afraid of bees.

From what scientists can tell, bees feel pain. They also have very rich and complex emotional lives, they can learn from each other as well as other animals, they can be taught to solve complex problems, and their minds are incredibly powerful thinking machines. Currently, we can't even design a robot that behaves as efficiently as a bee.

Bees also have their own dance language which they use to represent distance, direction, and duration, to tell hive members where to go to find flower patches. Besides humans, bees are the only known animal to use symbolism to indicate actual places. Bees also have culture that can be passed down from one generation to the next. However, in colder climates, it seems that cultural evolution stops in the winter because of hibernation. Also, bees are not a "hive mind" like you see in science fiction (no animal is, as far as we can tell), each bee is very much an individual and can have its own ideas about itself and the world. Oh and bees are also self aware.

Sadly, the bees are disappearing. Domesticated bees do not fill the gap that wild bees leave, and they often quickly consume the food resources that wild bees need to survive on Earth. Wild bees have adapted to humanities influence on life on Earth, using plastic to build nests, nesting in cities, or feeding on sugary waste from soda instead of flowers. But this is not enough. If you want to save the bees, please don't start beekeeping. These are domesticated bees, and we need more wild bees.

The author of this book recommends us to plant more wildflowers to help attract wild bees to your area. Bees are not creatures to be afraid of (unless you're allergic) and they are intelligent beings that deserve our respect. If that's not enough, then without them, the great pollinators, our food sources would disappear. We literally need them to survive.