#so i need to think of something else...

[sefsagentdump]

🖍️

they left him at the dinner table like they always did. the room itself was large—too large for his liking. 'you do something with her,' said his mom. that 'her' was yuka, his younger cousin. she was 2 years younger than him.

kenji didn't like her. she didn't do anything, but she was, to him, a child. he himself was 11.

they stared at each other for a few minutes until she started laughing.

"what are you laughing at?" he asked.

yuka said nothing, only laughing again. she hopped out of her chair and ran off, returning with a piece of paper and some crayons. kenji turned up his nose at the sight. his contempt went over yuka's head and she handed him his own crayon—a purple one.

"i'm not doing this."

her smile vanished at the words, and her eyes began to water. he wouldn't really care if she cried, but his parents would. kenji folded right when yuka began blubbering.

"alright!" he shouted. "alright. just don't eat these."

yuka didn't catch that insult either, so she nodded happily and got to work. kenji slowly dragged his crayon across the paper while yuka scribbled hastily. eventually, kenji lifted his hand and instead watched her. his brain put together her drawing like a puzzle.

it was him. as a rudimentary stick figure, yes, but still him. yuka smiled wide when she saw him figure it out.

"it's you!" she beamed.

kenji nodded. "it is me."

he smiled. it was a small gesture, and he couldn't believe that was all it took to make him so happy, but it did. and it felt good! he immediately got back to drawing.

"do you want me to draw you, yuka?"

she raised her stubby purple hands in the air. "yeah, yeah, yeah!"

he obliged.

yuka got more and more paper, and they drew until her parents came to pick her up.

[hinamie]

quick megumi style study

[egophiliac]

2025 is the year of the DRAGON SLIPPERS

[biggest-gaudiest-patronuses]

main take aways from Halloween (1978) rewatch:

michael myers is canonically 21??? this bitch should be at the club

*sees tiddies* ***MURDEROUS RAMPAGE NOISES***

that's it that's the movie

outside of the fact that everyone who has sex is murdered by the narrative, this is a surprisingly chill portrayal of female sexuality? these teen girls are horny and actively enjoying Getting It On with their boytoys. no pushy boyfriends sneaking in through their bedroom windows--these ladies are taking the initiative to sneak out and GET SOME. one of them gets laid and then immediately orders her boyfriend to get her a beer. (yes she gets Slashered soon afterward, but so does the boyfriend so honestly, gender equality.) yes the Final Girl is the only one not having sex, but she's not bullied for that, nor are her friends slut shamed except possibly by being murdered by the narrative

actually the only character who is shown being morally condemned on-screen is michael myers. specifically FOR his violent overreaction to other people's sex lives. (people he is spying on). metaphorically, the villain is American Puritanism sticking its judgy nose into other people's business.

aka Michael Myers Is A Republican

but actually the real villain is the doctor. guy's a judgemental, shaming, pathologizing asshole. and he's been in charge of michael's care since he was SIX YEARS OLD? kid never had a chance. i'd go on a killing spree too

also the parents. where are the parents? it's halloween night and all the teenage girls are home babysitting their younger siblings? come to think of it, michael's first victim was his own older sister, whom he killed while she was babysitting him. teen girls are really shouldering a labour burden here. maybe parentification is the true villain

side note: mike commits his first murder wearing a clown costume...which is never referenced again? his 'iconic' costume is a generic mask and wig and jumpsuit, when we coulda had a Killer Clown Michael Myers??? travesty

i like how the Final Girl and her friend casually smoke weed in her car. yeah she's an honor student and her friend is the sheriff's daughter. yeah they smoke weed. so what it's 1978

(to reiterate, mike is 21 and should be at the club. im not saying he shouldn't be rampaging, im saying it's sad that he broke out, tasted freedom for the first time in his life, and immediately snuck back into his childhood home to go rampaging. let's have a remake where he goes to a nightclub and has a few beers. maybe some slutty dancing. then rampage)

oh no he's hot

[itslarsyouguys]

Ok in a lot of video games, you'd have someone in your group that can do something cool, like talk to corpses, and then you never use it. Why do they do that.

Veilguard gave us a guy that talks to corpses and legitimately everyone in the group is solving problems by having this guy talk to corpses. He's talking to corpses left and right, I just had three separate cut scenes of corpse guy doing his corpse thing and I love it.

[rocketbirdie]

just move on already.

[the-modern-typewriter]

"You're hurt."

"I'm fine."

The ex-villain caught the hero's arm, forcing them to a halt. That at least, perhaps, was one thing that never changed. It shouldn't have comforted them - the ex-villain's lack of care for other people's potential boundaries.

Still. It did.

They couldn't remember the last time any of their friends or team had touched them so fearlessly, as if the hero wasn't an infinitely breakable thing. Just as they couldn't remember the last time their friends or team remembered that they weren't simultaneously invulnerable. Untouchable.

It was nice.

The former villain's grip was strong and firm and warm, like if the hero suddenly keeled over they wouldn't buckle with the weight of it.

The hero realised distantly that the ex-villain was saying something, eyes dark, brow furrowed.

"Hm?"

The ex-villain's lips pressed thin. "You're hurt," they said, again.

"Yeah," the hero said. "I know. It's fine."

"Hurt doesn't sound fine." The villain's teeth were gritted. "They can't be sending you out there in pain. Do they do that a lot? I'll kill them."

The hero laughed before they could help themselves.

The ex-villain's scowl deepened.

"Sorry," the hero said.

"How is that funny? Aren't you supposed to be against brutal murder?"

"Oh, yeah. No. I am. Don't kill my friends." The hero waved a hand to bat that whole idea away. "You're supposed to be reformed and all that jazz. It would look terrible on your record. People will get the wrong impression."

The ex-villain stared at them.

The hero gave their arm a gentle tug.

The villain did not let go.

"I have chronic pain," the hero said. "So it's funny."

The villain stared at them for a long moment in absolute silence.

"I'm sorry," they said, very calmly. "What?"

"Today's not a bad day for it, particularly." The hero shrugged. "But like, yeah. If I didn't do my job when I was in pain I'd like never do my job or really much of anything, so..."

"That's not funny."

"It's gotta be a little funny."

The villain was still staring at them.

"Comes with the whole being magically super flexible thing," the hero said. "It's okay."

"Every time you say 'it's fine' or 'it's okay' I become even less convinced that you are either of those things."

The hero snorted, partly to mask the way the words caught them off guard, an unexpected odd-angle blow. "Eh. Fine enough to fight. Speaking of..."

"No." The former villain's fingers flexed on their arm. "Your people know about this?"

"Obviously."

"And they're fine with it?"

"I can handle myself."

"Maybe you shouldn't have to."

The hero's ever-present cheer wobbled, just a fraction. Their throat thickened. They weren't quite sure what to say. They shrugged again, and did their best to summon a smile even brighter than before.

"I should go," they said. "Big robot to restrain before it hits the city and all that."

"Can I help?"

"Don't you have your own assignment to get to?"

"I meant with the pain."

"I mean, unless you can give me a new body."

"I can endeavour."

The hero snorted again. "It's fine, Doctor Frankenstein. Thanks."

"Is it?" The ex-villain's voice was quiet. "It doesn't have to be, you know. Not everything is."

The hero opened their mouth, then closed it. Their throat felt dry. They looked away, suddenly self-conscious in a way they'd thought they'd long since shaken off. Suddenly...

The ex-villain's fingers stroked through their hair. The hero willed themselves not to cry.

They didn't think anyone in the hero industry had ever told them it was okay not to be okay. Struggle was a part of the job, sure, but only in a very specific way. Everyone knew that heroes kept going. They got up every time they were hit and never gave up.

"Can I...can I have a hug?"

They felt silly asking, but the villain hugged them immediately and without question. Held them close like it was the most natural thing in the world.

The hero melted.

Then, they went to save the world.

[aquanutart]

I was talking and I mentioned that I have my old Game Boy and original Pokemon cartridge. I said, "I think they still work."

I was told, "The internal batteries on the Game Boy cartridges have run out. They're all dead."

"Oh," I said, trying not to show how crestfallen I was. I felt like I was losing nerd cred for not knowing that, although I never kept up with that type of info anyway. I'm here for the fantasy and imaginative aspects of games, and tend not to follow the competitive or technical details.

I tried not to feel anything as I went home. If they were real animals, I reminded myself, I would have had to say goodbye long ago.

But like so many other people, Pokemon was my childhood. It was all I thought about and dreamed about, and the closest thing I could imagine to heartbreak was the knowledge that they weren't real. I spent nearly all my time writing longhand self-insert Pokemon fanfiction--far more than I spent actually playing the game. My Pokemon were with me in my imagination wherever I went. I started playing Pokemon Blue when I was 5, and the last time I had played it was probably when I was 9 or 10. I remembered I had turned it on again one more time after that, not to play it, but to look at my childhood Pokemon.

It was during high school, after a move overseas that completely upended my life, and I was struggling with the crushing blow of being taken away from everything I knew and trying to make sense of anything (least of all adolescence) in another language. All I wanted was to go back to childhood and have everything go back to how it was before.

Seeing my Pokemon, just as I'd left them, had comforted me. I had looked at their stats pages, taken photos of them with my digital camera (that I don't even know if I still have), and then turned it off without doing anything.

That was probably 9 or 10 years after the games came out. It had been a long time since then. I had long since taken the AA batteries out of my Game Boy Color and left it untouched. I didn't even have AA batteries anymore.

It had worked then. But now it had been 27 years... I thought about not trying to turn my cartridge back on. As long as I didn't turn it on, I could believe my Pokemon were still there, the way I remembered them.

On my day off, which happened to be Pokemon Day, I googled and read that some people on forums and Reddit were still able to play their original Pokemon games.

Then... it was possible. I went out to buy toothpaste. At the store, I asked where I could find AA batteries.

It was a big thing for me to be able to go to the store and buy things myself. When I moved at age 13, I felt like something went wrong with growing up. It was difficult to follow what people were saying, and people didn't always understand what I said either. I had been introverted even in English, but now I had enough negative experiences that I became afraid and stopped trying to talk to people altogether.

I threw myself into video games and reliving childhood memories. The internet was where I could communicate in my first language and understand. I lived online and didn't interact with the real world. On the internet I felt like I was understood and could find people who shared my interests the way I did, but in the real world it always felt like I could get hurt if anyone knew me.

I realize now that I could have had a better experience overseas if I'd known how to adapt and socialize, but this was not something I knew even in English, and trying to learn in another language made it ten times harder. I'm sorry now for missing out on interactions that I know I could have had, but I just didn't know how. I wouldn't know how until I learned, and it took me a long time to learn.

I grew up online, in the company of others who had trouble fitting in with the real world, even in their own language. Those experiences shaped me, and the friendships I've made and support I've received online are invaluable to me. The internet gave me a way to live, and through it I learned how to interact with others. But in many ways, for many years, it felt like my life was put on hold and I stopped growing up.

Several years ago I moved back, to not far from where I was born, and I was able to work for the first time. I began to interact with people and feel like I had a place in the real world.

After shutting myself away for so many years, every little step I made out in the world felt terrifying. But every little thing I did on my own made me feel like I was living for the first time.

Even something as little as going to the store and buying a pack of batteries.

I was directed to a shelf at the end of an aisle, and found myself looking at a rack of lithium AA batteries. Did they not sell the old kind anymore?

I walked around to the other side and was relieved to find the familiar black and brown Duracell batteries I'd known from my childhood. I felt more confident about putting in a battery that looked the same as I remembered. The smallest pack they sold was an 8-pack for $12.99. I really didn't need 8 batteries. I didn't have any other devices that used them.

I thought, what if I turn it on and it doesn't work and I'll have wasted $12.99?

I also thought we might already have batteries. I might be able to say, "Mom, do we have any batteries?" and she'd pull out two AAs from a drawer somewhere and I'd save my money.

But somehow I felt like part of what was important about this was being an adult and being able to buy my own batteries.

Yet... what if it just ended up making me sad? Was it better not to know?

I went to the checkout with just the toothpaste and stood hesitating at the edge of the checkout line.

If I didn't get the batteries now, and it turned out we didn't have any batteries, I wouldn't try it. I knew I would just put it off until even more time passed, and then... "Are you in line?" someone asked me.

"No," I said, and I turned around and went back to the shelf.

I bought the batteries.

At home, I took out my original Game Boy Color from the drawer where I left it, the one my dad had surprised me with when I was 5 years old and that I had brought overseas and back.

I put the batteries in and turned it on without a cartridge first to make sure the batteries were inserted correctly. The Game Boy logo scrolled across the screen and it made the familiar blinging Game Boy startup noise. I turned it off again, satisfied.

I took out my original Pokemon Blue cartridge, momentarily having to remember which way it went in, and slotted it in.

I turned it on, watched the whole Pokemon Blue intro out of nostalgia, and then pressed START.

My heart leaped for joy.

MY POKEMON!!!! MY POKEMON ARE ALIVE!!! 🥺🥺🥺

My original Pokemon, that were with me in 1998 when I was 5-6 years old, are still with me 27 years later. I want to cry!!! I love the old sprites, I'm SO happy to see them again 😭😭😭 the Pokemon look so little and cheerful at the same time, which I love 🥺🥺🥺 I know there are people with many more hours on their games, who have leveled all their Pokemon to 100. But these are my Pokemon who were with me through my childhood, and I spent many more hours making up stories about them than actually playing the game. I'm so happy to see them again 😭😭😭

All I want is to see my Pokemon. My other Pokemon are in boxes. Now, how do I get to the nearest PC? Where am I?

Oh... Oh. I have to confess something. When I was a kid, I was scared of the dark cave areas, and whenever I got to them, I stopped playing for a while. (I was stuck at Mt. Moon until I was like, 7.) So I never actually beat the game.

And here I am on Victory Road, with the team of Pokemon I was taking to the Elite Four, without an Escape Rope.

The only way for me to see my other Pokemon is... to finally make it through Victory Road, after 27 years?!

[pharmasrightarm]

separate ways

[slavhew]

look at this idiot not aware that his body is warm and his touch comforting everyone point and laugh

[vaguely-concerned]

thinking about not only the specific people lucanis pulls in to represent the 'locks' in his psyche, but the storytelling that happens in the structure/order of them. the underlying ideas are presented something like:

the lucanis who went into the ossuary never came back out again; he died down there (the boy caterina raised is gone forever) -> you're putting yourself in danger doing this (by being close to me), you should leave because I can't bear it if you get hurt because of me -> it doesn't matter even if we do try this, it won't work anyway (again because of me) ('you know what he's like, you can open the door but he won't walk through it' :'( oofie doofie) -> what if the real secret is that there was never anything but the monster in here from the beginning. you should leave, there was never anything here worth saving in the first place. (implicitly: what if I deserved what happened, all along.)

it runs pretty cleanly from outward-oriented attachment anxiety ('caterina won't even want me back like this, she won't recognize me (the same way I no longer recognize myself)) and gradually deeper inwards until we reach self-image and self worth. or you know, the harrowing basic lack of it lol.

"careful -- they'll know we're not right," spite says in one of their first scenes... but clearly, some very deep part of lucanis has feared or suspected for much longer than that that there's something inherently not right at the core of him, way before any demon entered the picture. and the voice he gives those lines to is the person who should know him better than anyone in the world, who he has loved more than anyone in the world -- and who deliberately chose to hurt him so horrifically anyway. 'It's better if I'm just a monster and deserved what happened than it is to allow for the idea that the brother I love doesn't really exist and maybe never did'. it's better if he's fundamentally flawed in some way that needed fixing to help him survive, and that's why caterina chose to hurt him again and again -- out of love. (this one I think he might have a very sad wakeup call on one day if he ever ends up with the responsibility and care of a child of his own in some way and realizes just how alien the idea of ever intentionally hurting them for any reason is to him. oh buddy. also interesting that he keeps caterina as the outermost lock -- there IS a distance he keeps there that he hasn't with illario. he doesn't resent her 'anymore' he says, but he also keeps her carefully further away from his deepest self.)

as far as I could tell the only note in the mind prison that's fully hidden and needs to be uncovered is the sad painful helpless stupid little truth that even after all this, even knowing what happened... he still loves his brother. is there anything illario could ever do that would make lucanis completely stop loving him, do you think? sometimes the trouble with unconditional love is that it is, well. unconditional, even when some terms and conditions probably would have been in order haha.

that's the pattern you see there again and again; he would rather destroy and abandon and imprison himself at every turn than let go of love, even when it's just scraps, even when there's only ever enough of it to hurt him. it's only when rook shows up and as it were takes his hand and walks along with him that he can entertain the idea of changing the story of what walking out the door might mean in the end.

[pa-pa-plasma]

love fics where Danny ends up in the DC universe & every alarm goes off at once & the magic users are like "yeah that's the most powerful being in the universe & also possibly super evil we are FUCKED fucked" & the Justice League is freaking tf out trying to find this thing that casually tore a hole in reality & it just cuts to Danny (Fenton) standing in the background blissfully unaware & like "man my life sucks but at least i have this candy bar—" *drops it in a puddle*

[bixels]

tarpit site.

[umblrspectrum]

my text disappeared here when i posted. what happened

[starkspi]

From "Unadulterated Loathing" in which Charlie chains these two idiots accidentally together by @otsmosis (who made this comment at the end of the last chapter and inspired me to do whatever this is above)

[thekittyokat]

you ever just have a lot, a LOT of feelings all at once about a character and not even remotely enough words or brainpower to FORM the words to describe everything you're feeling. so it feels like you may explode. yeah