#this is me trying to find elaborated ways to make the whole thing longer

[ode2rin]

kaiser, before this sight in front of him, was certain he carried all the crazy in this relationship. 

looking at what you were doing right now, he realized he was apparently wrong.

“darling, what are you doing?” he questioned, his curiosity piqued.

“practicing my WAG cheer and clap,” you replied nonchalantly.

“your what?” 

“if you make me repeat it, you'll find your pillow on the couch tonight,” you warned, sparing him a glance.

so, this is serious business.

“alright, i heard you. but why are you trying to mimic them?” he inquired, referring to the women you were watching on tv, seemingly seated on the sidelines of an NBA game, clapping like they intended to make no sound by how close their hands were.

fed up with his questions, you darted towards him. in your hand, you held your phone, containing a photo taken during one of his recent games. it captured the moment he scored a goal, with you in the background, caught up in the fervor of the crowd, jumping and screaming with unbridled joy. 

kaiser never thought he had a favorite photo of you until this one. 

“look at that!” you exclaimed, thrusting the phone into his hands before returning to the couch where you were initially situated.

“i look like one of your crazy fans, bouncing and screaming like that! you could basically see the entirety of my mouth by my scream! and i look like i won a multi-million lottery jackpot!” you continued to rant.

“that’s because you're proud of your man, baby,” kaiser reassured you with an amused smile.

“but i want to look chic! nonchalant! while i’m at it! twitter people are calling this photo ‘crazy fan behavior,’ mihya!” you protested.

kaiser couldn't help but chuckle at your outburst. he found this whole WAG thing incredibly adorable of you. “come here, please?”

you slowly approached your boyfriend from the kitchen counter he was leaning on. now that you had calmed down, you finally noticed that he had just gotten out of the shower, wearing nothing but his sweatpants. his tattoo was on full display, captivating your eyes. 

cheeky bastard, as always.

once you were within arm's reach, kaiser wrapped his arms around your waist, turning you around to face away from him. he held you in a warm embrace, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck and down your shoulders as if he was inhaling your essence.

“you know i wouldn't have it any other way,” he mumbled against your skin.

“really?” you softly ask, the tension dissipating from your mind. your focus shifted to the warm body pressed against your back and the sensation of his large hands kneading your hips.

“definitely, baby,” he replied, his voice low and hoarse, while peppering your nape with soft, lingering kisses. his hands slid sensually along the curves of your waist, pulling you closer to him. “when i look at your seat after a goal, i always look forward to seeing you like this. it makes me feel as if i have the energy of a hundred men when you cheer for me. so, you don't need this, hmm?”

“okay…” you whispered, no longer concerned about your previous intentions. your senses were now fully occupied by your lover.

“besides," he continued, his tone slightly teasing, “you did win a multi-million jackpot when you had me.”

you sighed. of course, he needs to mention that. “you really know how to ruin a moment.”

“come on! i'm worth that much!” he retorted, his smirk audible in his voice.

you couldn't help but smile, his playful banter lifting your spirits. “yeah, still. eat the rich.”

“well, i wouldn't say no to that, darling.”

“oh my god! michael kaiser!”

“i’m just saying!”

your boyfriend really knows how to ruin a moment, but still, you wouldn't have him any other way.

WAG = wife and gfs of high-profile pro athletes (but this is gn!reader oki) and if you know the WAG cheer and clap, that means we have weird tiktok fyps, no i will not elaborate.

note. here, take my insanity. i did not know what made me write this man in FLUFF (sighs i don't know who i am anymore) but it needs to leave me alone. jk, just testing things out for my milestone event hehe <3 this is slightly suggestive, btw!

[shadesslut]

quick rec if you have time ☺️

richie inviting his friends over to his appartement for a get together but spends most of the evening embarrassing and humiliating ethan (he's such a shitty brother).

so ethan takes y/n (whom richie is infatuated with) to his room and fucks her to make her moan so hard, all the guests hear her. he does everything to make her scream and embarrass richie in return ;)

Thank you! I hope you like it<3

brotherly love

MINORS DNI

Pairing: (Ethan Landry x Fem!Reader)

Content Includes: (Smut, light humiliation)

Summary: After being made fun of by his older brother, Ethan finds a way to make sure he will never be made fun of again.

Masterlist

part 2

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Ethan always had a complicated relationship with his brother. Since they were little, Richie would always try to scare the younger brunet. He would make elaborate pranks on how Ethan would die or get hurt, and they always worked on him. Ethan grew sensitive over time, never letting his guard down either. Especially around Richie.

When Richie moved out and bought his own apartment, Ethan jumped for joy on the inside. Since the older brother no longer lived with Ethan, he could finally relax. He could walk into the kitchen without having to stay quiet, and he could invite people over.

Unfortunately, all of this stopped once Richie came home for Christmas, bringing some friends along with him. Ethan panicked once his father said Richie arrived back; he already felt his anxiety rise.

The visit was alright. The only good thing about Richie visiting was his friends that he brought. Ethan had taken a liking to one of them; a girl with y/h/c hair and a bright smile. Her name was Y/N, and Ethan was already imagining his last name with hers.

That had been two months ago.

Ethan was now sitting on a green sofa in his brother’s new apartment. Him and his sister, Quinn, were invited to Richie’s apartment warming party. Ethan didn’t really have the urge to go, but he desperately wanted to see Y/N again.

She was across from him on the other couch, chatting with another girl. He had been watching her ever since she came in, gazing at every inch of her body.

Richie snapped Ethan out of his gaze as he plopped down next to him. He wrapped his arm around Ethan’s shoulders, slightly shaking him.

“Ethan,” he drew out. “Whatcha looking at?”

Ethan’s shoulders tensed at his older brother’s question. Richie knew about Ethan’s not so little crush, and he planned to make sure everyone else knew.

“Nothing.” Ethan mumbled, shrugging Richie’s hand off. Richie looked at Ethan with a sinister look painted across his face. He looked over Ethan’s head at Quinn, who shook her head at him.

“Hey Y/N,” Richie yelled, still looking at Ethan. Y/N’s head turned to Richie, smiling.

Richie stood up and walked towards her, sitting next to her. “You met Ethan, right?” He asked, pointing towards the curly-haired boy.

She nodded as she looked at Ethan smiling. “Yeah, I have.”

“You know any girls that’d be into him? And into the whole ‘pathetic guy’ look?” He laughed as others chuckled at his joke. Ethan’s fists tightened at his brother’s taunts. Y/N looked at him awkwardly and slightly smiled uncomfortably.

“You know he took a video game design class last semester? You’re such a geek aren’t you little bro?” Richie quipped again.

“Enough, Richie.” Quinn warned, yet was trying to hold back a laugh.

Ethan’s face reddened as he looked around the room, seeing how everyone was looking at him. “Shut up.” He muttered.

Richie leaned his head towards him, “What did you say? I can barely hear you.”

Ethan looked over at Y/N before glancing back at Richie. Richie’s eyes brightened as he noticed, and Ethan immediately regretted it.

“You better stay near me, Y/N, or else he’ll start creeping on you.” Richie told her, leaning his elbow on her shoulder. Y/N looked at Richie, and then at Ethan.

Some people laughed while others looked at Ethan judgmentally. Ethan cursed under his breath and stood up, stomping to Richie’s room. He could hear Richie and others laugh as he walked away.

A few minutes of Ethan’s knee bouncing up and down and him breathing slowly in and out, allowed Ethan’s anger to sizzle away. He sat on the edge of Richie’s bed, glaring at a picture of him and Y/N on his desk.

“Fuck you, Richie.”

He turned his head towards the door that slightly opened, Y/N’s head peeking through. “H-Hey,”

“Hi?” Ethan responded.

She stepped in and closed the door. “Richie’s an ass.” She said as she sat down next to him. She looked away, guiltily and sighed. “I’m sorry about earlier, I should have said something.”

He shrugged and played with his fingers. “It’s okay.” He said softly.

“It’s not, but, I know how we can make him mad.” She suggested, leaning towards Ethan.

Ethan raised his eyebrows at her. Is she…suggesting what he’s thinking?

“How so?” Ethan asked, setting his hands on the mattress.

She swiftly got up and straddled Ethan’s lap. Ethan gasped and shifted under her body. “Something like this,” she whispered in his ear.

He looked down at their hips, then looked up at her. “If you’re gonna let me do this, I’m not gonna hold back.” He spoke, his voice deep and his eyes dark. His hands reached for her hips, holding her harshly.

“Fuck, okay.” She moaned as she ran her hands through his curls.

He picked her up and kissed her roughly, throwing her on the bed. Oh he was so, going to gloat to Richie about fucking Y/N in his bed. She gasped as she landed, and looked up at Ethan.

He licked his lips and started undoing his belt, causing her to slide her shorts down quickly. He stepped out of his jeans and raised his arms as he allowed her to take off his shirt.

“You’re so hot,” She breathed against his neck, thrusting her hips upwards. He whimpered and grinder against her. His dick was already hard, and he could feel the wetness that grew between her legs. He kissed her until he couldn’t breathe; it was the best feeling in the world.

They were pawing at each other, both fully nude now. Ethan stared at her tits, they were so perfect, and all he wanted to do was suck on them.

He lowered his head and licked her nipple, which started to peak shortly after. He covered her nipple with his whole mouth as he sucked on it. She threw head back in ecstasy from the pressure.

“Ethan, I need you to be inside of me right now.” She moaned, tugging at his curls. He groaned and looked around the room.

“I don’t have a condom.”

She smiled at him and pulled his head back down as she kissed him. “I’m on the pill.”

He had a devilish smile on him now. As he lined himself up with her entrance, he looked in her eyes for approval; to which she nodded. He thrusted his hips slowly, halfway inside of her.

“Oh,” he moaned, slowly. He shut his eyes closed to focus on the feeling of her around him. She caressed his chest, and he pushed all the way in.

“You feel so good,” she cooed at him, arching her back.

He started moving his hips at a slow pace, in and out. He was a whining mess, while she tried to keep quiet. He wasn’t going to let that continue.

Ethan looked at Richie’s nightstand and saw a picture of Richie, which made him furrow his brows in anger. He was going to make sure Richie knew who was making Y/N feel so good.

He thrusted at a harsher and faster pace; pulling all the way out and pushing all the way back in. Now, she was moaning louder.

“Oh fuck!” She sobbed. She had tears in her eyes from the mix of pain and pleasure. Ethan dropped his head to lick the tears off. He reached his hands down and picked up her legs to put over his shoulders.

Her eyes rolled back at the position. The tip of his dick hit her sweet spot, which drove her crazy.

“Yell my name, yell my fucking name,” he growled in her ear, still thrusting deep inside her.

She whined softly and scratched his back. “Fuck, Ethan,”

He rolled his eyes back and quickened his pace. He reached his hand down and rolled his thumb over her clit harshly. The noises in the room made Ethan’s ears redden; wet and slapping noises filling their ears.

“Ah! Ethan!” She yelped at the new sensation. “Fuck me, fuck me!”

Ethan smiled to himself as she screamed his name, hoping to God that Richie could hear. He heard footsteps approaching the room and a faint “What the fuck is that noise?”

He saw the door crack open, meeting eyes with Richie. He glared at him with a menacing stare as he continued to thrust inside of her. Richie’s eyes widened as he glanced between Y/N and Ethan. He stood still at the doorway as Ethan continued to fuck her.

Ethan had heard a few of Richie’s friends laugh at him, and they pulled him away from the door.

Ethan smiled to himself, looking back at Y/N. He thought about Richie, and how he would never let him make him feel worse again. He knew Richie wouldn’t be able to, he wouldn’t be able to after tonight.

The two of them moaned and kissed each other as they slowly reached their high. Ethan thrusting in faster than ever. She moaned his name one more time, filling the entire apartment. He kissed her neck as he stuttered his hips a few more times as he came inside her. He dropped his weight on top of her, sighing with pleasure.

“Fuck Ethan, didn’t know you had that in you.” She moaned, breathing heavily.

“Me neither.”

She wiped the sweaty strands off his forehead, and then kissed the top of his head. “We should film next time for Richie.” She laughed.

“Oh, you know we are.”

[weeb-polls-with-pip]

Autistic Anime Boys Prelims - Propaganda Division - Round 2

Propaganda:

Amuro -

"Being a Newtype is just space autism to me. But also he sucks at falling in line in a structured environment, would rather work with machines than talk to people, and is only allowed as a child soldier because he's the bestest at big robots."

Kyouya -

"what's there to say? you know him. you love him. vote kyoya."

Euini -

"I relate a lot to his social anxiety, especially his performance anxiety that occurs when he's being watched by people, particularly due to his stress at needing to follow the plan/do things the "proper" way in order to not feel like he's a failure. he also stands like a lil autistic kid and i appreciate him so much for that.

(LIGHT SPOILERS) basically, he has a test that he needs to take in order to advance as a witch, and he keeps failing it because he cant perform properly while being watched by other people, even though he knows the "right" spells to use and why he's supposed to use them. on his third attempt of the test, he's prepared a "script" to use so that he can follow it and not worry about failing in the moment (in this case, his script is a hand-written book of the proper spells to use and the order in which he's supposed to use them), but when a part of the exam changes, he's no longer able to follow his script. because he's been taught all his life that there's only one proper way of doing things, his way of thinking is very rigid and he's not able to deviate from his plan without panicking. luckily, one of his fellow examinees (richeh from the autistic anime girls poll 💕) is able to convince him to try and change the way that he does things to something that is more attuned to his personal needs- basically change the way that he casts his spells and which spells to use so that he doesn't need to struggle with doing things in the way that everyone says that he should; the way that he cant seem to manage. but, even before richeh helped him with that though, he was still finding way to modify the "proper" spells a little bit to better suit his weaknesses. he was trying so hard to fit in to the mold that witch society gave him, but it just wasnt right for him and he was making it work however he could."

Aoi -

"He has a very devoted special interest in the idol Takada-chan, which he frequently imagines in fights and other situations… the moment someone (Itadori) expresses equal interest in something he is passionate about, he immediately declares them besties and brothers and creates a whole elaborate shared history for them that doesn’t actually exist. He’s not really interested in connecting with people who don’t share his interests. He’s seen as somewhat strange and eccentric. Though in the present he is respected because of his strength as a sorcerer, as a child he was very isolated."

Floyd -

"Has no emotional regulation skills and will make it everyone's problem. Prone to mood swings and can get angry at the drop of a hat, but can also be so goofy, silly, and lovely. Sways side to side for that good good stim, and loves to squeeze others (with violent intent and affectionate intent). Who doesn't love a good pressure stim? His interest in things can be fleeting, and his motivation to do things can change as quickly as his mood. Spontaneous and feral extraordinaire."

Apollo -

"Not canonically autistic but he has ZERO volume control plus he scripts/repeats stuff (“I’M FINE!!!”), sometimes mimics other people’s speech patterns (like replying “ja” to Klavier), sensitive to loud noises (stayed backstage at a concert cuz it was too loud) and bright lights (complained about the stage lights being too bright at the same concert + screamed when opening the hatch to the bright stage at magic show), and has been really into space since he was a kid, which could definitely be a hyperfixation (not to mention how he read every single one of Phoenix’s old case files back when he admired him). Plus he’s a little TOO normal, to the point where it circles back around to making him the odd one out, which is absolutely what masking feels like for me. Even when he tries to be fun and weird he gets strange looks/made fun of for not being weird in the right way. The list of autism symptoms is just a checklist for him at this point."

Ash -

"he just has those vibes ya know?"

Shou -

"His special interest is math. He uses math terms in regular conversations and calls people yoctograms/zeptograms which earned him monikers such as "math man" and "pi-face". Speaking of Pi, he once shouted 155 consecutive digits of it through a megaphone just because he could. He's so normal."

Sunny -

"Sunny has been told that his face is not expressive. He doesn't talk a lot and he often gets lost into his imagination. He is a great listener and recalls a lot of information being told he has a great memory (he is able to remember a whole speech about flower symbolism that his friend told him) He is compared to a cat."

Yuu -

"He’s like if an emo programmer boy was also completely unhinged and also had a tragic backstory."

[an-au-blog]

Omg i have an idea - Sanji prince set to marry the princess of Wano arc but she is in love with her bodygaurd Zoro. This makes sanji jealous of him and he in his free time does everything in his power to piss off zoro but zoro starts liking it. In reality he had never had hots for the princess, but the day he saw Sanji and his fighting skills, zoro was inexplicably drawn to him. So they start sparring together and arguing but they find it comforting in a way.

Will u elaborate this au ?? I would love to see you enhance it

Yesyesyesyes! I saw that (I just hate replying from my main and as far as ik I can't respond from a secondary)

This reminds me of a royal au art post that I see or come back to every so often like "I should probably write a royal au"

(anyways here i go... this turned out longer than intended lol:)

At first, Sanji would be so happy and anxious about meeting the princess. He's never seen her, it was an arranged marriage, but he heard that she is the most beautiful and elegant woman. So it was a huge shock when he arrived and all she would do was try to tend to her bodyguard or try chatting him up. Emphasis on the "try". The most he replied with was a huff or a grunt. Most of the time he acted like she wasn't even there. Even when she did talk to Sanji, the conversation somehow always circled back to her body guard.

It was all "Zoro this," and "Zoro that," and admittedly, Sanji could hesitantly agree that if what she was talking about him was true, he was a man of pride and honor. It still pissed him off.

Sanji was a bit disappointed on many levels. He wanted a nice date with his future wife. What was he thinking? The mossheaded brute? She could do so much better than that swordsman. What does he have that Sanji doesn't??? Not to mention that the guard was staring daggers into him the whole day.

At the end of their "date", the swordsman insisted on sending him off to where he'd be staying. He even offered to give him a tour of the city.

Sanji responded with a "I'd love to get a tour from miss Hiyori, but I don't want anything from you, mosshead."

They end up going anyway because the very next day...

Zoro to Hiyori: I should take him into town for a tour.

Hiyori: Yes that's a great idea! I could come too,

Zoro: No

Sanji: Yes

Zoro sweating: it uh... it won't be safe.

Through out the whole walk Sanji would keep saying things like "oh, how I wish my FUTURE WIFE could be with us now," and "do you think my FIANCE would like this if I bought here one?" to make sure Zoro knew that Sanji was the one who would marry her.

Zoro seemed irritated at first but it slowly started seeming more like sadness than anger. At one point Zoro turns and interrupts him, telling him that they're lost. Turns out not only were they lost, Zoro didn't know where they were going for a while now.

An insult turns into a snarky remark in return, which turns into a kick, turns into a fight. After they were all worn out from the fight, Sanji begrudgingly realized that he enjoyed sparing a bit too much. It was the most fun he had since he arrived. He would never admit it though.

Once they found their way back Sanji decides that he would try and be as close to his fiance as possible. If he flirted with her enough, the Marimo would get the hint.

On one hand it worked. Zoro seemed to get really angry whenever he flirted with her. Which usually ended with them sparring. Zoro would say some questionable things during their fights... so Sanji responded. It escalated to the most fucked up and homoerotic shit, to the point where people got used to leaving the room to give them privacy.

As the wedding approached, Sanji started seeing less and less of Zoro. When he asked Hiyori about it she always gave an answer that sounded extremely fake.

It didn't bother Sanji... until it did. He stormed every room until he found the mosshead meditating under a tree. Sanji didn't know what he was going to do, but it would definitely going to include a confrontation.

Sanji: Are you avoiding me shitty swordsman?

Zoro, not even opening his eyes: ...

Sanji: At first I thought you had left or that you were avoiding both me and Hiyori, but then I find out you were with her daily.

Zoro still not answering pissed Sanji off and was his sign to continue talking.

Sanji: I can't believe you'd try to seduce MY future wife behind my back like that! For all that talk about honor, you sure are dishonest!

Zoro finally snapping: I avoid you because I know she'll marry you, I'm doing this for her sake. I don't want to ruin her wedding.

Sanji: Oh, right you're stealing her from me for her sake.

Zoro: I'm avoiding you because if I see you I can't guarantee I can hold myself back from ending the engagement and running off with you.

Sanji, absolutely baffled with this answer. That was so much new information, he didn't know what to ask first. After a minute of gaping like a fish, Sanji started talking on auto pilot. An apparently "autopilot" was "bitchy": What makes you think I'd want that?

And when he thought Zoro would spit something back, Zoro looked up at him with the saddest most heartbroken look in his eyes: I don't.

It sounded more like an apology than an answer.

Sanji felt like his world shattered.

The swordsman stood up and paused for a bit. As if he was ready to do something that he would regret but stopped himself. Sanji would have done anything to know what he was going to do or say. But alas, felt frozen.

Zoro: It's okay, I told Hiyori I'm leaving after the wedding. I won't be bothering you and your wife anymore.

Walking away, Zoro couldn't help but think how much he wanted to rush back and give him a kiss farewell. One filled with all the passion, frustration and despair he'd be harboring until now.

[sthormiiii]

aaravos headcanons !! (again)

i've put a little more thought into this ones~

General headcanons:

- hes so strong, or, well. he used to be. ofc he's naturally very strong, but ever since his imprisonment he has been sitting down a lot, he doesn't work out much in there (too busy being sad and plotting revenge) so, when he gets out and notices that he struggles to lift stuff up, that annoys him.

- he tried his best to stay away from humans at first, but it was so hard for him, he promised himself he would just take a look, just to see how they live from closer, nothing more!! we know how that went.

- him before the fall was such a nerd!! he still is ofc, but before all the trauma he used to be just a guy interested in humans! just picture him trying the human rayla thing the first time he went to humans.

- one of his favourite things was observing human couples togheter. yeah this might sound creepy i know, but he genuinely enjoyed watching two people just...being in love, and he always noticed the little gestures they did for each other- he would try to keep track of those, trying to understand what exactly being in love meant.

- that ties to the fact that startouch elves usually don't fall in love? because there isn't really a startouch elf society, they mostly live by themselves- that's another thing he loves about humans, the way they live togheter and create families.

- zones out a lot. he has so much stuff he wants to say, so many things in his head and he gets caught up in in his own thoughts so much

- he reads people very easily. notices the slightest things when talking to someone. especially looks at their hands and body language in general

- after he shattered the mirror in s4 he realized he couldn't look at himself anymore and went "-oh." so, NOW his hair is messier and he has to look at his reflection in vases or stuff like that. he's annoyed

- he sleeps in very specific ways with very specific kind of pillows and stuff. if he ever has to sleep somewhere else, his whole body hurts the next day

- he laughs loud af, can and will laugh like a maniac if he finds something THAT funny

- craves love and validation. wants to be praised and likes being at the center of attention

- he loves physical contact and tried to get it all the time, even small things like knees touching when sitting besides someone, or holding hands made him feel so happy

- his love language is quality time and physical contact

- hates getting sick, it makes him feel vulnerable and weak- it used to happen a lot because that man refuses to wear a shirt even in winter, and humans used to take care of him as much as they could! (he secretly liked it)

- first time he got sick he thought he was dying

- genuinely forgets how tall he is compared to other people, doesn't realize how menacing he can seem

- gets offended easily

- he!! likes!!!! bugs!!!!!!! I can't stress this enough

- he's ticklish. I won't elaborate.

Angsty ones:

- he hates himself,, he hates how he looks after his fall. he feels shame and guilt everytime he looks at himself

(s6 spoilers) him crying while looking at his reflection in the e1s6 made me think of this even more, he literally looks at his hands and see he's not glowing anymore and then. sobs.

- after losing so many people, he no longer grieves as much as he used to. if he stopped and really thought about it, he would cry, but he usually manages to block those thoughts out

- speaking of crying, once he starts he can't stop. he could cry for so many hours straight there's just so much stuff he went through and he needs to let all of that out...when he cries the stars on his cheeks shine more

- other than sadness he also has lots of anger inside. he sometimes snaps and throws punches against the walls of his prison, or he throws stuff around, making a mess. he then feels even worse

- he misses looking at the stars more than anything. yes, it's painful for him and he hates them. but he also just wish he could stargaze again.

- his nightmares manly consist in people he used to know, haunting him. he dreams of people who betrayed him, and he also dreams of being unable to move or do anything, being chained or just forced to stay still as people he used to know are there, watching, but don't help. sometimes they're happy dreams, of freedom and love, but even those leave him crying in the morning

- he is scared to love again

- as soon as he's out of that pearl he will sob. i know he will.

help its 2am does these make any sense...

[psalmsofpsychosis]

"#Batman resists his own insanity so it spreads to e v e r y t h i n g around him"

You can't just say this and not elaborate in great detail. PLEASE elaborate oh my God. I do agree but I want to hear every single thought you have about this topic.

Btw, I'm the same Anon who asked -- or not really asked but more so talked -- about Batman and Joker's soulmate sort of bond.

AND WHAT DO YOU MEAN WITH "COMBINING JOKER'S HEAD WITH BATMAN'S BODY"???????

I was thinking along the lines of the concept version and how they could never be satisfied like this, united in one body. What is the result of mixing chaos and order? What is the result of mixing the act of forgetting the past and fixating on it? What do you get through combining the ideology of making everything matter and taking all meaning away?

The result is that the pure concepts become stained and dull, pushed away from their original function, losing their purpose to oppose each other.

Becoming one entity is the act of becoming complete (concepts being stained) and losing the thing that made them them. Batman and Joker were never meant to unite in this way with overlapping voices, finishing each others thoughts and sentences and it SHOWS. I'm in love with their grotesque obsession with each other that borders on love and punishment. Their desire to win and conquer the other for good but never being able to because losing one side takes away the purpose of the other.

That's why I'm so, so, SO disappointed with how the Batman Who Laughs turned out. Where are my identity crises? Plural, because this could never be an one-and-done kind of deal. They became OneTM, inentionally or not, but BeforeTM, they were always wondering what it would be like. Batman could try to get closer to Joker's mental state but never fully experience it, same with Joker. But now they are OneTM and then what? Batman is just the Joker with Bruce's memories and face. I can't begin to describe how boring that is. That's like if DC made a "Deadpool kills the Marvel Universe" story only they used Joker instead of Deadpool.

Do you see my vision? Can you feel my pain? I wanted to psychoanalyse that asshole with my amateurish psychology knowledge but they only gave us a watered down Joker who makes other Batmen less interesting upon contact. WHERE ARE THE IDENTITY CRISES?? WHERE IS THE DIFFICULTY IN MAKING A DECISION?? WHERE ARE THE LENGTHY MONOLOGUES ARGUING BACK AND FORTH OR CONTRADICTING EACH OTHER ALL THE TIME??? The Batman Who Laughs is basically Two Face but without the wall seperating Harvey and Two Face. Joker!Batman should be unable to do anything or constantly switch between Bruce and Joker or save one life and then turn around and kill it. Like, where is the complexity? Why the hell is that guy only a murder machine?? That was neither Joker nor Batman's whole purpose??

Tell me all your thoughts, my friend, while I'm here spinning in circles and going insane. I'll never get out of this alive, you'll still find me ruminating on this on my deathbed.

I swear, if you give an absolute banger of an answer again, I'll come and start living in your walls.

Have a nice day!! :)

ANON LOVE OF MY LIFE, i'm shoveling all the insides of my walls out as we speak, you can move in by Wednesday morning—

Like, the way i felt every single word you said in my bones. You are so right, and there are a couple different points here and it's gonna get longer than usual so i'll separate each thought thread to avoid drowning in lé brain soup.

• Re: batman resisting his own insanity, i feel like i have simultaneously talked about this in 7986 different ways and haven't said anything about it at all 😂 possibly most of it has been discord ramblings. Long story short, the spine of his narrative to me is that he actively resists his own humanity and in extension of it, his evil. He wants to be good. But there's also immense psychological/emotional/physical price we pay whenever we make these kind of choices; whatever we disown and banish to our subconscious, we project out into the world and unto the people around us. The load you refuse to carry will be carried by the people around you, because at the end of the day /someone/ has to carry it, it doesn't just disappear into ether. So, in a way, for Batman to remain good, to remain a hero, someone else has to be bad. The extent in which Batman keeps his goodness "pure and untainted" dictates the horrors created around him— and particularly the creation of Joker. I say creation because the existence of Batman as a concept absolutely necessitates the existence of Joker. In a way Batman does create him, and it's true that with Batman gone Joker and half the evil in Gotham would be gone too, not because Batman is an evil presence— but precisely because he disowns his own evil.

And the thing is, in the specific context of Joker, it has become this almost loving, adoring symbiotic relationship; Joker has willingly shaped himself to fit the outline of an evil that Batman needs to defeat, he has become the sin that Batman can overcome so he can stay a saint. I actually have a draft on this that i never finished, a meta about how all the coloring choices in Joker's design eerily resemble the different color stages of a wound and the bruising after, how Batman almost feels like Jesus with Joker as his side wound, Joker being the price he pays and the pain he goes through for his martyrdom in order to stay pure, for his idealogy to have any form of meaning and significance, Joker being his very own holy suffering.

We fundamentally understand reality in form of contrasts, internal ones, external ones. As you very well pointed out, without an innate sense of contrast, we cease to have any form of coherent grasp on different concepts, and they start to sort of become noise, they become nothing. Would you truly understand what a day was and grasp it as a concept if it wasn't followed by a night? So like, what i'm saying is, people around Bruce/Batman become what he needs because they love him and they want to help him keep his narrative, the structure of his psyche intact. They help him stay 'him' by taking on the burden of what he doesn't want to be, he subconsciously shapes them in the image of what he needs to uphold his identity as a good person. This is why Alfred becomes Joker to save him, this is why Selina is the more socially acceptable pretty Joker that Bruce can actually marry and bring to his family, this is why Joker and Batman feel like they can never escape their narrative, their roles and their performance. It's the reason the moment Batman lurches to kill The Riddler in "the war of jokes and riddles", Joker stops his knife with his hand. It's their defined roles, and the greatest act of love that noone except Joker would show him. Joker says "I'm the sacrifice. I'm the evil, i'm the one who kills, i have made this choice so you can make yours. You're the good one. If you become evil, it renders both your efforts and my sacrifice meaningless, and i can not allow that to happen." And it's a truly fascinating dynamic really, for all that Joker has and hasn't done throughout the Batmanverse history, when it comes to Batman he's irredeemably selfless. Everything he does regarding Batman is to keep Batman's sense of goodness and heroism intact, and in this context he's more pure than him. Everyone around Batman wants him to kill, perhaps rightfully so, they mean well. But Joker says "i'll bear all the unbearable evil so you dont have to, and we both acutely understand that without my existence you mean nothing. I will be the monster so you dont have to." And honest to god there's a heartbreaking affection to this, something noone else will ever be willing or want to offer to Bruce, not to this extent.

in 'the war of jokes and riddles' Bruce tells Selina that "what separates him from utter evil is a hand on his knife. Joker's hand." like bro, he knows. In a deeply twisted and gutwrenching way Bruce knows that noone loves him the way Joker does.

• Re: combining Joker and Batman's heads and bodies, i was thinking.... two concepts maybe?? 👀 one is more like the Dullahan myth, in which Batman loses his head but he isn't carrying it, Joker steals it. And then Joker loses his head and Batman has to keep it and he's forced to use it. It'd be an insanely fun concept; the Dullahan myth can be interpreted as the idea of death of self by supposedly losing all that would make you human; your thoughts and memories and logic, etc. Except that you still have a heart, and a body, and they're not exactly cooperative. It'd be fun to have Joker's mind trying to tame Batman's heart and body, each fighting and singing their own song, same for Batman. A version of the myth has Dullahan carrying a human spine in one hand, and i mean, the possibilities are endless!

But also another concept would be: two frankenstein monsters lmaooo, same sense of discordent internal landscape, same sense of ideological tension and conflict, but also someone's gotta [tw mentions of gore] chop chop them and sew their body parts together, and that can be another interesting element added to their fucked up dynamic ✨️ it can also be Joker as Dr Frankensten and he sews parts of himself to Batman in order to save him!

• Re: Batman Who Laughs, oh girl (gn), i have nothing to add that you haven't already said more beautifully than me. There's so much emotional nuance and complex philosophy that could've gone into that concept, it's certainly one of the hardest Batman story variations to pull off, and weirdly enough, the people who dont directly aim for "Batman becomes Joker/Joker becomes Batman" stories often tell a better more intricate tale about that transformation than the people who straight up shoot for the concept. One of the things that always sends a chill down my spine is the ending of Batman: Europa, in which Joker is terrified and screaming as Batman laughs and lurches for him; that's the dynamic, that's the Batman who laughs, and the most unsettling part of it is that, Batman doesn't change. He doesn't have to. On a core level he is quite frankly a bit fucked up, it's not a stretch for Batman to be evil, and that's why his goodness is meaningful. Cue Nietsche's quote, "Of all evil I deem you capable: Therefore I want good from you. Verily, I have often laughed at the weaklings who thought themselves good because they had no claws." Batman is not a good guy entirely, and that makes his goodness a conscious choice with so much weight and worth and significance. I dont think a lot of DC people understand this.

With Batman Who Laughs, the name kinda sums up the take unfortunately; it's a superficial interpretation that falls flat on its own face because the writers couldn't be assed to explore how a chemical combination of Batman and Joker's narrative would unfold. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ as with any potent chemical reaction, the mixture is highly unstable and unpredictable, and that's the fucking fun of it. There's gotta be tension. I do think Batman and Joker can very well mix, i do think they can make a seamless fusion, but i dont trust any canon DC writers to handle the characterization well in a way that doesn't bore you out of your fucking mind. You gotta make a new person and you gotta capitalise on the core components both Batman and Joker share; their incessant sense of idealism, their need for purity, their volatile emotions and their aggression, their need to individuate from their context and deviate from the norm, take the third way out narrative wise, their philosophical and intellectual bend, their immense grief, their need to be oh so special and different 😂 they actually have a whole lot in common, this is why they're perfect enemies!

But yeah, writing that personality fusion is very hard because it's such an emotionally complex context and most DC writers have not felt a single emotion in the past 35 years aflhdtdhlf

Anyway yep i love your brain so SO much Anon, hope you have a wonderful day ❤️💕 and dont forget to tell me what ya think!!

[filmtv2022]

In the Bleak Midwinter: Chapter Four (The Sound of Shovels)

Previous Chapter Next Chapter (Updated Once Posted)

Masterlist

Pairing: Thomas Shelby X Reader

Chapter Summary: Y/N begins her healing process, and Tommy is forced to open up about the nature of the letter. Past trauma haunts Y/N, but Thomas isn't ready to give up on her yet. The two begin to find their way back to life with one another's help, but finding a new normal again after all this time proves very difficult. 

Warning: memories/nightmares of previous sexual assault + mentions of suicide + violence (in the context a war 'flashback') + some smut/heavy petting + language

A/N: First of all, sorry about the delay. Work has been off the charts, and I don't see it slowing down for a while. With that being said, I hope that you enjoy this chapter. Tommy and the reader are finally realizing how much they need each other. Additionally, I think there is another story being published right now that has the same/a similar title. That is totally okay, but I'm trying to think of a way to differentiate my story from those in the title so that readers aren't confused. Oh, and as always, I apologize for all mistakes.

** If you'd like to be tagged in future updates, let me know in the comments.

“This one’s yours.” Turning the knob, Tommy opened the door to a grand bedroom. The walls were covered in ornate carvings and elaborate paintings filled the blank spaces. The room screamed of a woman’s touch, but as of yet, there'd been no hints of other inhabitants, not even the lingering scent of perfume.

“This place is beautiful, Thomas. You and your family must be very happy here. ” Making your way across the room, you ran your fingertips along the smooth edge of the bed frame, the shake of your hand already proving to make simple actions difficult. 

With your back turned to him, you missed the way his shoulders tensed. Desperate to avoid any further conversation about him, he found himself staring at you. Your steps were as steady as they could be given the circumstances, but your hands gave away the struggle. Standing in the doorway, Tommy’s focus remained on you, scanning for signs of what was sure to come. The increasingly erratic tremble of your hands caused his body to go rigid once more.

“Y/N, there are some things you need to know.”

Glancing over your shoulder, your brows scrunched up in uncertainty, “Okay, I'm listening.”

Pushing off of the frame on which he was leaning, Thomas made his way over to you, his palm gently resting on your shoulder as he guided you down to sit on the bed, your knee bumping with his as you settled. A heavy silence filled the space as you waited for him to speak, his touch shifting to brush over your fingers. Holding your hand in between both of his, a steadying warmth rolled off of his skin as he cleared his throat but remained mute for a moment longer.  

“This is gonna get worse. You might-” 

“I know how this works, Thomas. It’s not my first time. I’ve been down this road before.” dragging your face up to meet his, a flash of worry and confusion split across his eyes, “I had a whole life before this… before I ever met William.”

There was devastation in your features. Some form of it had been there the whole time, but something deeper, more broken joined as you spoke about the past. Tommy held fast to you, his thumb smoothing over the back of your hand in an arc. 

“How long have you been back at it?”

“It was just the whiskey at first, it helped… it dulled the edges. And it was easy enough to get.” Embarrassment bled into frustration at your admission. This man deserved nothing, not an ounce of explanation, and yet, the words flowed of their own volition. 

“And the rest?”

“I buried my children, Tom. When do you think?” 

“All right.” Standing up, he started toward the door, but your words caught him before he could leave. 

“The opium... I started again with Will’s, he had an open prescription left over after he...” Tommy stopped in his tracks, turning back to look at you, a mask of calm painted over his features, “The doctor gave it to him for the headaches and the nightmares. But uhh, it didn’t work, not the way it was supposed to. He still heard ‘em.” 

“Heard what?”

“The shovels.” 

Stunned, Thomas stood staring blankly back at you, the commanding touch of his voice faltered as he finally spoke, “Someone will be around later with food. I’ve… I’ve got a meeting to get to. This door is to remain unlocked at all times, understood?” 

“Of course, and I won’t keep you.”

Watching him go, you remained seated, slipping your pantyhose off and discarding them on the floor. Wasting no time, you changed out of the clothes you’d worn to travel this morning. You were quickly running out of fresh ones, but it had yet to become an emergency. Pulling on a soft blue jumper, you pulled back on the tattered bottoms you’d worn for bed. Laying back on the pillows, you snuggled your nose in the collar of the sweater. The faint musk of tobacco and cologne lingered in the fabric. The scent was weak, barely clinging on, but it was there, the last physical reminder you had of William.  

… 

Evening settled over the house, and the tremble in your hands intensified as the remnants of your vices left your body. Sweat coated your skin in a sticky sheen, while every muscle in your body tightened in vicious knots. The spasms were strong enough to take your breath away, but not enough to pull you into unconsciousness. You were stuck, the loop of pain and anxiety trapped you inside your mind. The real world was hazy as the memories cut like knives in the night, hacking and slicing away at your sanity. Falling somewhere between the layers of what is and what was, the food and water on the nightstand next went untouched. Darkness sat as a constant companion. 

Raised voices crashed in waves from somewhere far off in the house. The words were lost, but their desperation and anger were clear. Most were foreign to your ears, but there was one that caught the fragment of your mind that held firm to the present, Tommy’s. Even with the rage that flowed freely over every syllable, the sound of his presence brought a sense of peace to you. 

…

The dead of night brought with it a hollowness to Arrow House. With his family long since departed from the residence, memories of the past flooded in without hesitation. Papers were cast in haphazard piles around the desk in front of him. Running his hands over his face, Thomas pinched the bridge of his nose, shoving out the rest of the world. The small amber vial in his pocket weighed heavily on his heart. Slipping it from its hiding place, he held it firmly in his fist, letting the edges bite into his calloused skin. 

Releasing a heavy breath, Thomas moved quickly, unstoppering the bottle and bringing it to his lips. Draining it, he fell back into his chair and waited. The whisper of her voice calling to him slowly slipped into focus as the opium took control. 

“Grace” Her name was a faint prayer, begging the universe to bring her back to him.

…

Caught in that thin line between wake & sleep, you felt the ghostly presence of another hovering somewhere in the room but lacked the strength to respond. Panic flared white hot at the sound of approaching footsteps. Struggling to regain control of your limbs, you stirred under the covers, your breaths coming in ragged fits. The steps fell away, replaced by the press of another body. It fell hard on your chest, pinning you to the bed. Fingers dug savagely into your neck as warm breath wafted over your exposed skin, their teeth biting harshly along your chest. Terrified screams caught like barbed wire in your throat, the column of your neck strained with fear. Tears began to flow in steady streams down your cheeks, the release of emotion allowing the agonized howls to rip from your lungs. 

Tearing you from your sleep, the phantom sensations gave way to reality. Strong hands held firm to your biceps as you writhed against the touch, your eyes still jammed shut to block out the memories. A stern voice called to you, repeating your name over and over. 

“Y/N… Y/N… you’re all right. There’s no one else here, you’re safe.” 

Your eyes snapped open, but the face in front of you remained out of focus. Shoving yourself away from the figure, you pleaded in wheezing sobs, “Stop, please, get off me…” 

“It’s me, it’s Thomas. I’m not-”

“Don’t fuckin’ touch me.” Yanking yourself away from Tommy, his hands dropped from your body as if he’d been stung. 

Backing away, he raised his hands, holding them up by his shoulders showing that he meant no harm. He continued to stare, his attention never leaving you as his eyes raked over your body. Forceful sobs shook you, your face buried in your hands as a small, youthful voice rang clear through the chaos.

“Daddy, is everythin’ okay?” 

Turning to look, Thomas found his son standing in the doorway, his hair mussed up and pajamas rumpled from a deep sleep, “Everything’s all right, Charlie. Why don’t you back to your room, and wait for me there, eh?”

“But I heard the lady cryin’.”

“I know son, I know, but she’s all right. Now be a good boy go on, go.”

The light patter of bare feet on wood floors bounced into the room as Charlie took off toward his room, his little legs carrying him away as quickly as he could manage.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” you mumbled over and over, continuing to shake not from withdrawal, but from fear, “I’m so sorry Thomas.” 

Carefully, Tommy returned to your side, finding a place to sit near your feet. Avoiding any physical contact with you, he waited for your breathing to slow before speaking again.

“What happened, Y/N? Who were you seeing just now?”

Pulling your face from your hand, you went rigid at the intrusive question, “That is none of your business.”

“You just scared my child, and disrupted my home with your screamin’. I think I’ve a right to know.”

“But you don’t ‘ave a right. If you want me out just say so. I’m happy to leave. You’ve done enough already, and I’m sure my dead husband won’t care one way or the other.” 

“I’m not lookin’ for a way to get rid of you. I just… I want to know you’re okay.” 

You huffed an incredulous laugh, “I appreciate the sentiment, Thomas, but I don’t need it.” 

“Need what?”

“Your pity. I’ve had my fill of that from everyone else. I’m tired of people lookin’ at me like I’m ready to break.” 

“I don’t pity you, Y/N.” 

“You’re a liar, Tommy Shelby, I can see it in your eyes. That sad, worried look, like you’re afraid to turn your back on me lest I decide to end it all.” 

“Can you blame me for that? Given everythin’ I’ve seen it seems an honest concern.” 

“Maybe you’re right, but I still don’t fuckin’ understand your concern! You don’t know me!” 

“You’re right, I don’t. But I did know William.”

“What the hell does that have to do with me?! Why the fuck did he write that letter anyway? Why am I here Thomas?”

Standing up quickly, Tommy put space between you both as he spoke, “Because he almost died trying to save my life! And I prom-” Thomas’ voice wavered, the confession taking the wind from his lungs, “I promised him that I’d do whatever I could to keep you safe if he didn’t make it out alive.” 

“What are you talkin’ about? He never said anythin’, I never heard anythin'…” Lost and confused, you begged for more. 

Seeing the hurt wash over you, Thomas returned to your side, this time sitting close enough that your bodies touched. Your hands sought his the moment he was settled, pulling them onto your lap. 

“Tell me what happened.” 

“We were down in the tunnels, god I don’t know how many days it’d been, but we could hear the Germans through the dirt. Their shovels were working fast, closing the gap. We knew they were getting close, but when they broke through… all hell let loose. In the chaos, I don’t know what happened exactly, but they had guns. William, he… he pulled me out of the way as they fired. I got hit in the shoulder, but if it hadn’t been for him… that bullet would’ve… it would’ve ripped straight through my chest.” 

Thomas paused, his eyes glassy with images of the past. He was relieving that night over in his mind as he spoke, feeling him slip further away from the present, you held his hand tighter.

“What happened after that?” 

“They just kept comin’ with their bullets and bayonets. Shooting and stabbing. William put himself in front of me, and they got him before he could fire a shot. The others, we managed to fight them off, but by the time the threat was gone he’d lost so much blood. We tried everything we could, but it just kept pouring. I thought, everyone thought, that he wasn’t going to make it out of that tunnel.”  

Thomas exhaled a shaky breath, pausing for a moment, to collect his composure, “I stayed in the tunnel with William while the others left to go get help. He talked about you. You were the only thing on his mind as he lay there. He just kept asking for asking for you. I lied to him, I told him you were comin’, that the boys had gone to fetch you..”

“Thomas…” 

“He made me promise that I’d bring him back home. So that you wouldn’t have to wonder where his body was and you could move on with your life. He made me promise that I’d make sure you were all right, that I’d take care of you, no matter what. He didn’t want you to be alone, Y/N. He lost consciousness before the medical team got to us, but he was still holding on. They managed to get him back to a field hospital. He was sent back home after he recovered.” 

The trance broke as his blue eyes found yours once again, “He loved you. And I know how broken you feel, but you can’t let the pain win. Not this time, not ever.” 

Leaning forward, you cupped his face, your thumb running along his cheekbone, “You can’t let it win either.” 

He pressed his forehead against yours, his breath was hot against your skin, the scent of whiskey and opium strong enough to sting, “Y/N.” 

“Where’s your wife, Thomas?” Turning your face away, you tried to put space between yourself and him.

Feeling you hesitate, he pulled back just enough to meet your eyes, his thumb ran over your lips, “She’s dead… because I couldn’t keep her safe. I promised I’d make her safe, and I failed.”

“You have to forgive yourself. You can’t hold onto that guilt, it’ll kill you.”

“How can I do that when it's all my fault? If it wasn’t for me she’d still be here, and Charlie’d still have his mother. I don’t deserve…” 

“Stop it, Thomas. You told me that I deserved a life, and to be happy, and the same goes for you. You deserve happiness, you deserve a life.” Your fingers found the simple metal band that adorned his hand, “There are people who need you… I need you.”

Letting go of his hand, you slid your palm along the buttons of his shirt, stopping at the collar, his breath hitched. Dropping his face closer to yours, lips touching in a near caress. Thomas panted, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he let his touch wander over your body. Gingerly, he fumbled for the hem of your jumper, one hand finding a home on your waist while the other wandered higher, cupping your breast. A gasp fell from your lips as he brushed over your nipple. Needing more, his lips found your neck, laying a line of fire from the shell of your ear to the hollow of your throat. 

“We shouldn’t do this, Thomas.” Holding him to you, your words and actions were at odds with one another. A clear depiction of the war going on in heart and mind. 

Bringing his face back to yours, Thomas captured your lips with his. It was a hungry kiss, teeth and tongue clashing in a desperate embrace as if the dam had broken, and he was holding back the flood waters with the last of his resolve, “Tell me to stop, and I will.” 

Hovering over you, he shifted so that he was kneeling, one hand gripped the headboard, while the other remained on you, waiting. Seconds passed and when no answer came, he pushed you back into the pillows and continued to work at your body. Featherlight touches over your stomach and sides sent shivers down your spine. Stunned and overwhelmed by the feeling of him, you found yourself moving without thought as he tried to take off your shirt, the collar catching before he freed it from your body. 

The chill of the room sent goosebumps across your exposed skin. Feeling you shudder, he pressed closer, the heat rolling off of him was enough to relax your muscles. Settling his weight between your thighs, he groaned as he rolled his hips into yours, relishing the sensation of having you so close. Your head fell back against the pillows as he kissed down your chest, nipping at the tender skin as he went. Soothing over the bites with his tongue, he found his way back to your breasts. Threading your fingers through his hair, you tugged roughly at the silken strands making him moan.

Laying open-mouthed kisses along your stomach, his one hand reached for your throat stopping just short, while the other ran down the outside of your thigh. A whimper tumbled from your lips as his free hand toyed with the top of your pants. Sliding the hand on your chest up the rest of the way, his wide palm spanned the width of your neck, his fingers curling around the sides applying pressure. 

Your lungs hitched, and anxiety flooded your system as the same images you’d seen in your dreams were now haunting your waking moments too. Your heart thrummed in an erratic pattern as you began to panic. Quickly the room around you started spinning, your breathing coming in rapid gasps as you wrapped your hand around his wrist and pulled hard. Tears spilled down your face as you finally managed to speak, shoving him away, “Stop, Thomas, please.” 

Crawling out of the bed, you wobble a few steps before gaining your footing and leaning against the wall. A harsh sob wracked your body as he stood up and made his way to you. Holding onto your waist he dipped down so that he could look into your eyes, “Y/N, hey, look at me… look at me, what’s wrong? Talk to me.” 

You shook your head no, unable to form the words you so desperately wanted to say. Seeing you continue to collapse further inside of yourself, he wrapped his arms around your body, one coming to rest on your lower back while the other wound into the base of your hair. Whispering words of comfort in your ear, he held you fast and let you cry. There was a conversation to be had, but not now, not until you were ready. 

@sadroses98

@weaponizedvirtue

[the-s1lly-corner]

"And what will you do when I can't recognize you?"

Eyeless jack x reader angst but it's based around my specific hc that "jack is cursed bc cult stuff and hes forced to eat flesh; and his mind and body are degrading into something not.. human"

So yeah basically reader and jack trying to cope with his whole monster metamorphosis

Cw. For body horror, and tbh this is mostly me rattling on about my hcs of how jack became eyeless jack

That was something he said to you one night, unprompted

Of course you both had a vague idea of what was happening to him; but neither of you had answers... let alone fully understood

Of course, he knew more than you. He was the one living with this... curse.. and he had it before the two of you met

But even now, it was showing how ugly things could get, and it was only the beginning

Obviously; his appearance was changing. His skin became.. cold, veins were showing, he simply looked like he was dying. Obviously, he had pits for eyes, which were constantly dripping this cold black ooze. His ears and teeth were now pointed, and his fingers ended in claws. But other than that; he more or less looked like a normal person, if you overlooked those silly details

Oh, his tongue.. no matter how you may feel about it, the process of how he "obtained" the monstrous thing is horrifying.

To spare the details, his original tongue essentially split into the half dozen tendrils it is today

Not good stuff, and he felt all of it

And of course there's the psychological and behavioral effects of the curse; to get the big bad out of the way, he can no longer eat normal food. No need to elaborate. Good news is, as of now, he doesnt need to feed often. But when he does, he runs the risk of losing control, almost becoming animalistic in the way he behaves

That's his main fear

He's expressed that those frenzies happen he finds it harder and harder to contain himself, or come back down

He worries that one day you'll be the one getting chomped on

Really, there's nothing either of you can do to stop this or lessen the effects of the curse

Bro only has two options; suck it up and become a monster that can't resemble anything of this world. Or die

There already were some nights where he may have snipped at you. He didn't mean to be aggressive, but he was trying so hard to keep it together. He needed you to leave the area and stay away for a while

Some days his memories begin to cloud, that's probably the scariest for him. It'd be scary for everyone, obviously

I dont typically like writing angst without adding some sort of comfort, or happy ending, but that sort of thing just. Doesnt exist here. Jack's fate is pretty much sealed, and what sucks is that he didnt ask to be dragged into this

This is all sorta based off that spin off backstory jack got (though tbf I dont recall if it was even made by his original creator, though my take is in a silly au), where he makes friends who are (unbeknownst to him) in a cult and had plans to use him

Bro didn't want this, and really the whole thing is tragic

Of course, I'll still try to add some comfort, as it feels wrong to just drag this man around like this

Smells seem to have a positive response

Makes sense; its said that the brain ties smells to memories, and associating it with certain things

So if you wear a certain perfume or use a certain detergent to wash clothing, he'll definitely remember and recognize it. It seems to help him come down after a bad spot

Journaling can help him keep track of the days; though you'll need to give him some time on that... hard to hold pencils when you have claws..

And of course, comfort him; be there for him

I wish I could end this kinda bummer hc ramble off on a lighter note, but the whole thing/this side of eyeless jack is just so

You know?

Anyways yeah I write all my eyeless jack stuff with these ideas in mind so

Yeah, that's why I tend to write EJ all gloomy and reclusive

[softsweetwhispers]

When we drove through the rain, the water hit the roof over and over, washing us in a muted silence. The repeating, uneven, patternless sound could be heard clearly, even through the rusting metal of your car’s frame. It served as an unsuccessful way to fill the tension, a backdrop of white noise against our palpable fear. Thunder rolled below us from a distance, echoing through the streets and under the car tires like an omen. The dark clouds hung low in the sky, building something more than just rain, overlapping each other and dipping just beneath the top of the treeline. 

Silence wrapped its slimy tentacles around our mouths and coated the seats and the windows. The inside of the car was stale, the kind of quiet that made everything feel heavier. The way we tried to pretend everything was okay, how we tried to hide all our secrets, what I’ve been too scared to say aloud when you can look at me. 

When we drove through the rain, your skin was close enough for me to reach out and touch, if only I wasn’t so scared. You’re closer to me than you have been in for the past two months, and yet when I look over, you seem a million worlds away. I’ve been trying to close the distance you’ve been incomprehensibly focused on making bigger. There’s a crack between us that spreads with every argument you start and every touch you pull away from. I am going in behind you with a naive hope, uselessly pouring concrete in behind you, trying to fix the irreparable damage.

I was foolish for hoping it might’ve been the beginning of redemption. I thought the muted, forced proximity of us – what we’d been trying so hard to avoid, this elaborate chess game of denial and avoidance – would make us acknowledge our problems. But maybe it only allows the opposite of what I’m wanting; you’re using it as a shield, an excuse not to look at me, like every other feeble excuse you never would’ve prioritized before the incident. The headlights paint across your lips and nose, making you look gaunt and tired. They prevent your carefully blank face from being hidden from me. 

When we drove through the rain, I tried to put onto it what we can’t find for ourselves. I’ve rendered myself helpless trying to make things better. I’ve used all my resources, given up everything, no longer own any piece of me that doesn’t belong to you – and will continue to do so. Despite your uncertainty, I will keep fighting against the intangible monster that’s taken you away from me and swallowed you whole. I won’t leave you to face it by yourself; I was here before, I’m here now, and I will continue to be here. 

Maybe we'll never find what we can’t fix for us, but you’re still here. Even though we’re in different universes, even though you’re struggling with a fight I can’t see, even though these past few months have been one inescapable tragedy after another; you’re still here. So I’ll stay. I’ll stay and wait for the rain to get worse, and I’ll weather the storm like I always do, with you by my side like you always are. 

| k. - @nosebleedclub march, xxi. clambering

[doevademe]

I originally had planned for this prompt to be about Percy and Nico remembering they were lovers in a previous life and trying to work through that, but the characters (especially Nico) resisted that plot. Oh well, maybe some other time.

Some other time has come. You can’t just tell us about this magnificent idea and not elaborate!

(It’s the notes from Mixing up the Routine)

Oh, now that takes me back.

Okay, so quick background on my WIPs: I have a lot of them. Some of them transform over and over until they become unrecognizable when I finally publish them. Some barely change and get published with just a few minor changes from their early stages, and some never see the light of day due to plot or characterization problems (or because I know fans would hunt me for sport with some of my more controversial ideas).

My fic about Percico as reincarnated lovers belongs to the latter category. Whenever I try to develop it, I hit a roadblock in either the plot department or the characters remaining in character means the story grinds to a halt. I've tried to rework it multiple times, but I've never been able to get it right. However, if you want, I can give out the latest outline for the story under the Read More, especially since I'm sure I'll never actually write it out.

The conflict starts with Percy and Nico having dreams about their past lives, where they see a person they are in love with (who they are changes a lot each attempt, sometimes they're both men, sometimes a man and a woman, once they were even two women). At first, they think this dreams are random and unimportant, but they are persistent, and once they realize it's their past lives, they become obsessed with finding the other.

Nico theorizes that he's getting these memories now because he's nearing the age when his past life met their lover, and thinks that him having those dreams means they can find each other again. He goes on an underworld adventure, trying to find some way to track his past lover.

Percy, meanwhile, is having an identity crisis. He's falling in love with a memory, while being days away from his wedding with whom he thought until just recently was his one true love, but how he feels for his past live lover... it makes this whole thing feel shallow and petty. He's also sad because Nico has been acting weird, and he knows he won't make it to his wedding, and that just hurts.

Nico appears before Percy the very day he calls off the wedding, and they are both confused. Percy was sure Nico would be away for longer, and Nico believed he was shadow traveling to his past life lover. Nico finally explains his absence and Percy realizes who they are to each other but... he doesn't feel for Nico the same as he did for past life lover, so what gives? Why is that?

Cue an investigation about what's happening, ending up with Percy and Nico realizing this isn't their second life. It's their third. Both times, they have found each other, and their love has made them as miserable as they have been happy. They always end up in tragedy and Percy had decided enough was enough.

It's revealed that before their last life began, Percy lied and said they'll go together like last time, but when Nico jumped into the Lethe to be reborn, and Percy didn't follow. Nico was born decades before Percy because of that. Then, he asked Aphrodite (in some drafts his mother, in other drafts through his father Hermes) to make sure he didn't fall in love with Nico in this life. To block out the feelings.

Once they learn this, Percy is convinced he did the right thing, because what happened to Nico while he was in love with him? Just pain and tragedy. Maybe it's for the best that they remain separated this life, give Nico a full life for once.

And here's where I hit a roadblock, because continuing from this to a happy ending requires Nico to fight to convince Percy they can be together, that this time will be different, but the thing is... why? Why would Nico want to fight for them when he feels like he's the only one with feelings in this life? What argument could be strong enough to compel Percy to undo the block? Only he can unlock his heart. Nico could ask Aphrodite, but that would be no different from forcing Percy to love him. The characters resist this plot having a happy ending, and I want this plot to have one.

So yeah, this is where I'm stuck, and any iteration of the reincarnation has been met with similar issues. I still like this plot a lot, but I really can't make it work, no matter how much I try.

[lara-cairncross]

Hi I did not expect to be hit with this much nostalgia for pixie hollow fairies lol

The way you draw them is so pretty!?!?!?!?! I love their designs so much

I'm considering drawing fanart now, especially since I saw the suggestion of drawing my personal OCs in your fairy au, and I realized.... I have an oc. That I created recently. Like so recently that I haven't even named her yet. And she's already kinda fairy-like??? She's the result of a one-night stand between Leo and a random bird yokai who decided to dump the egg on Leo (it's the accidental baby acquisition trope except its more like you-really-should-have-expected-this-leo baby acquisition XD)

Don't worry though, she's not bird-like enough to want to eat your fairy boys if she met them. She's basically just a feathered turtle who loves shiny things, and I haven't even finalized her design but now I wanna draw her as a fairy haha. I do know her feathers are blue-purple-pink-ish with red streaks, so her colour scheme matches Fairy Leo haha

Hmmmm maybe I should actually put a question here uhh....

You keep hinting at plot points but you've also said you don't plan on making this a comic, so are we ever going to find out what the heck is going on???

And I know the idea of making a whole entire comic can seem overwhelming, but have you considered viewing it as just doodling and practicing? For my own au comic I only have one part drawn so far and it is the first part, but I'm planning to just draw any part of the story at any point in time, just depending on what I feel like. Cuz no one says you have to do it the "normal" way, right? And I like to think of drawing the comic pages as practicing new skills, like learning how to do page layouts and composition better. Aka focus on the journey and not the end goal.

Whoo, that got kinda long and I only really asked one question, but based on previous asks you've answered I have a feeling you don't mind ;)

OK that was entirely just stream of thought after going through the whole au tag (there are more thoughts but most are incoherent and overlapping so this is what i managed to pick out of my brain), but to summarize: I love your fairy au and the boys are gonna be living in my head now, along with every other version of the turtles that I love <3 <3 <3

I'm glad to hear you're liking the fairy au!! I had a ton of fun coming up with their designs :D

I do actually plan on making this into a comic of sorts! I dunno if I could ever make, like, a long-form webcomic or anything like that-- but I'm definitely planning on doing at *least* a few mini-comics to elaborate on the story! And maybe build my way up to something longer and more fulfilled :D As of now, I'm trying to experiment with different comic styles on my own time so I can try and find something that's quick and easy, but still looks decent. I like the idea of treating it as essentially a glorified doodle page. Honestly, as soon as I try to take any of my stories too seriously, I burn out fast-- so I'm trying to stay pretty chill about this one and just making content whenever I feel like it lol

Yup, I'm totally cool with everyone drawing their OCs as fairies if they want to! It's not like I own the idea or anything lmao. The only caveat is that I have jurisdiction over whether or not something is canon to my particular au. Leo and the rest of the boys are still canonically kids/teenagers to me, and I've been writing/drawing them as kids this entire time, so I won't be including anything/anyone related to one of them having a "one night stand" with somebody. I can't really police what anyone else draws though, so have fun :D

Sorry about these little guys buzzing around in your brain ❤️💜🧡🩵

[freeuselandonorris]

how do you deal with overwhelm while writing?? i think i’ve bitten off more than i can chew in regards to how long my current wip is going to have to be to actually play out the way i want it to (depth, character development, build up etc). i can’t even come up with scenes anymore, because the scope of the whole story just paralyses me - especially now, given all the things that have been happening irl (landoscar insanity fuel/lando’s win/hug etc) that i want/feel make sense to include, my brain is scrambling to figure out how to make it all fit.

i really enjoy writing when i can get into the kinda flow state but i haven’t been able to do that. have you ever had this happen and what did you do??

xoxox an adoring fan

heyyyy sweet anon thank you so much for messaging and i'm sorry you're having a frustrating time with your piece!

i have absolutely experienced this many many times before (especially with longer pieces) and so i can tell you with some confidence that the reason you can't get into your usual flow state is because you're freaking yourself out by trying to look at the entire piece rather than what you need to write next.

under the cut because i ramble like fuck when i'm talking about writing~

the writer anne lamott has this great technique she calls the 'one inch picture frame' which i find invaluable. basically, when you are sitting there spiralling like, oh god i have so much to write and i need to make sure the middle is snappy and the ending builds appropriately and i get all the characterisation in and oh god what about the world-building... you just tell your brain to shut up, and then you pretend that your story is a huge elaborately painted canvas or a view from a window or whatever, and you think about what you could see of that painting/view through a one-inch picture frame. then you describe that.

in practical terms, here's what that looks like for me. i'll use monday as an example. around the beginning, i wrote myself a vague season outline up to that point - key races, key moments i knew i wanted to include, etc. i added dates, locations and so on in brackets. i put this in a section at the top of my gdoc and then started a new section (i recommend using the title formatting on gdocs so it gives you a clickable link in the outline area) so it was there for easy reference but wasn't like, staring me in the face the whole time. if you're really freaked out though, you might want to put it in an entirely different document. then, as i wrote those bits, i would cross them out using strikethrough so i had a vague idea of where i was at. otherwise, i would IGNORE THAT OUTLINE.

(side note in reference to the overwhelm you feel just coming up with an outline: this thing can be basic as fuck. the good thing about writing motorsport RPF is that we already essentially have a structure in place, i.e. that of the season. that's what i used for monday: i listed all the races, then removed the ones where nothing interesting happened landoscar-wise (the race reports on the mclaren site are invaluable for this!). then i went through the mclaren socials/youtube and slotted in all the insane moments i wanted to capture in roughly the right place in the timeline. and honestly, there were loads of bits i'd put in the outline that i didn't end up using and vice versa. don't worry about being too beholden to the overall shape of the narrative just yet.)

every morning (i write in the morning) i would open the document to my last bit of writing and reread the last paragraph or so to remind myself where i was up to, and i would think about what i could see through the one-inch frame. so for instance, in the chapter where they have the argument in the hotel room after monza, i knew i wanted that argument to happen but where/how/when? i'd written them in the debrief, but i didn't want the argument to happen at the track. so, okay, they're in the corridor of the hotel. they're tentatively speaking to each other. write that. now what? move the frame over a little. now they're in the room, but they're still pissed. write that. now oscar's realising he doesn't want to argue, but he doesn't know how to say what he does want. write that. etc.

this is all a mental game you play with yourself. you go and look at your outline and you look at what scene or plot beat comes next, and then you put on your blinkers and ignore the fact that you're trying to write a long piece. it's not happening, la la la. you're writing one scene. you're writing the next sentence. you're not thinking about what comes after that. i mean, obviously if you know you want to reference x thing in chapter 2 so it can play a bigger part in chapter 3, you can think about that! but you're not thinking about it in the sense of OH GOD THERE IS STILL SO MUCH TO WRITE AND I AM JUST ONE PERSON.

a final tip i find useful to force myself not to overthink and get back into that flow state is timed writing sessions. set a timer for 25 minutes and put your phone on silent, and write as much as you can without stopping to edit. (if you want to carry on after that, knock yourself out. but don't stop to fiddle about with it.)

good luck anon! you haven't bitten off more than you can chew, you just need to take smaller bites 😘

[ghostlycoze]

Finally decided to share this little guy now that I've properly finished his design! Didn't really think I'd post my ocs but here's a couple of the lads :D

Retyping the notes in case my handwriting is too messy (and some elaboration):

Ever Changing Fates (he/him)

Aka the god who went "Wow, being a little carefree slugcat seems like a nice life... Wait."

- Dubious little creature <3

- Worm off the string w/ scug colony and messengers

- Wears basically a fancy jumpsuit (top and flowy pants are connected, the diamond piece in the middle is part of a funky belt/sash). Gets altered a bit after leaving his can. Shit is a tripping hazard.

- Has soft ear-like case on antennae. Headpattable. (Yes, he purrs)

- Tail: Neurons and slugcat food storage.

- Fun fact: this dude is tiny lmao like 5'0 (it's projection)

White scug:

Light Refracted, Countless Hues

- "White lizard"

- Camoflague, can change colour on command.

- Black tongue, grabs batflies

- Big tail

Black scug:

Without a Trace, Spined Silouhette

- "Mole lizard"

- Blends in dark

- kind of blind (particularly in the light)

- Little whiskers everywhere + fluff

- Possibly has an ability like hazers (ink/smoke screen) to survive outside of Shaded Citadel (or other dark places, considering this iterator probably is nowhere near the local group)

- Big ears. Helps them navigate, along with the whiskers (might make the front ones longer for that reason)

I've been writing a bit about this trio (and two other characters, who my friend made with me), miiiight share some of it or, if I can motivate myself to draw more, I could try to make some little comic scenes for them. Your classic worm-off-the-string type, just two iterators going feral and going on some wild adventures.

Fates' whole thing is basically just. Gave up on godhood and finding a way to die when he realised how happy the simple lives of the slugcats were (probably met Gourmand at some point, though I don't know if that's possible. Fates' local group hasn't fully been designed, but I imagine them to be a neighbouring group to FP's, so maybe they might have met some of the scugs!), and decided to start a project to find a way to adapt himself, disconnect from his can, and join the scugs.

With........ Some minor issues in the experimentation and detachment process, he succeeded! With two lizard-inspired scugs on either side, this dumbass stumbled out of his can and now roams free!

Where's he going? Who knows! Maybe visiting his local group, maybe even travelling to FP's group, or just avoiding iterators all together. His lore is very loose and flexible, but it gives room to mess around with!

Anyways enough of me rambling lmao, though feel free to ask anything ab them if y'all would like :)

[sapphire-weapon]

a few days ago you mentioned that you headcanon that remake Leon lost his virginity to Claire.

Do you think this is something he would regret or would he still have some lingering feelings there?

Like, I love Ashley but I also really love Claire too and since you mentioned this I've been kinda torn lol!

So basically, care to elaborate?

So, in OG canon, RE2 ends with Leon being all amped up to go after Umbrella. This apparently ends up with him and Claire in an argument about the next steps to take, and he all but shoves her to go in the opposite direction of him and Sherry so that she can find Chris -- and then Leon and Sherry get picked up by the CIA just a few hours later.

Like, that whole thing happens really fucking fast in OG. Leon has not had a chance to sleep in the time between driving into Raccoon City and being kidnapped into CIA custody.

And yet, somehow, despite this, Claire is able to keep in contact with Leon to the point of being able to email him during the events of Code Veronica??? Like, it makes absolutely no fucking sense at all, and Capcom never bothered to try to explain it specifically because it's complete plot convenience nonsense lmao

So I feel like this is one of the changes that Remake is making -- because RE2make did not end with the same tone as OG RE2. RE2make ends with Leon looking at Claire and Sherry as his immediate priority, and if any Umbrella shit pops up, they'll deal with it then.

Leon's wording during the intro of RE4make is suspect, too -- that he was "later asked" by the CIA to join up. That makes me think that this didn't happen right away -- that there was at least a handful of days, or even maybe a full week, in between him escaping Raccoon City and the CIA getting a hold of him. And this is sort of backed up by the lingering nerve damage in his left shoulder in RE4make -- he probably carried that open gunshot wound around for a bit longer in Remake than he did in OG canon.

(side note: I know that the photo of Leon that Krauser has been very uhhhh attached to, let's say, looks like Leon was literally just taken off the streets like he was in OG canon, but like. Capcom wasn't going to make a whole new, cleaned up version of his RE2make character model just for Krauser's jerk off fantasies LMAO it was just easier to put in his endgame RE2make model there)

So this meant that there was a not-insignificant amount of time in Remake canon where Leon, Claire, and Sherry were basically playing house, so to speak, while Leon and Claire tried to figure out what to do next.

I imagine this is when it happened.

You've got these two college-aged kids trapped in a domestic situation together after escaping from an actual literal waking nightmare together. They're hurting not just physically, but emotionally. They've been isolated from the rest of the world and have only each other to trust and confide in and try to figure out a way of coping with any of it and moving forward.

Yeah, that's going to boil over at some point very quickly. Any number of things could have been the trigger point for it.

It could have been Claire helping Leon keep his wound clean and feeling like she's actually helping in a way that matters while he's a little overwhelmed by someone taking care of him.

Or it could have been a melancholic moment where they're both lost and directionless and feeling helpless, and they both end up looking for some comfort in each other, because that's all they have.

Or it could have been a tense moment when one or both of them can't make sense of why they're still alive -- or if they're still alive, and they just need to feel something to remind themselves they're still human.

Or it could have been a quiet moment in the middle of the night, where neither one of them says anything at all, and neither one of them is quite sure just how Claire ended up on Leon's lap while he kisses her as though he's afraid she'll disappear if he stops.

It doesn't really matter what it was. No matter what happened, it happened.

And I don't think that Leon would have told her up front that only the first two fingers on his right hand know what the inside of a vagina feels like. She probably suspected it when she noticed how nervous he was, and she definitely figured it out after the third time he went too far and accidentally pulled out of her completely mid-thrust instead of just pulling back -- but I don't think that this was information that he volunteered.

But Claire was probably the awakening of Leon's praise kink, because I'm sure that once she did figure it out, she literally took him by the hands and walked him through it. And after a few comments along the lines of "You're a fast learner" and "That's it, you've got it" and "Keep going, just like that" and "You're doing so fucking good" -- Leon learned something about himself that he did not know previously.

I don't think he regrets it, and I don't think that he ever will.

Well, I mean, I'm sure he regrets it a little whenever she decides to hold it over his head later in life, because she's Claire Redfield and there's absolutely zero chance that she's going to let him forget that she was the one who taught him how to please a woman.

And he probably regretted it a little bit the first time that he ever had to look Chris in the face.

And then also one other time way later down the line when it hit him that he was now much closer to Chris than he was to Claire, and that weird "oh my god I fucked your sister, and now I'm also kind of attracted to you oh god no why is my life like this" realization came over him.

But. You know.

I don't think he regrets it in a serious way. It was an important moment in both of their lives -- it meant something; it wasn't like he slept with her just for the sake of losing his virginity. It helped both of them get through the worst parts of the darkest time either of them had had to face or endure. Going through Raccoon City itself was the easy part -- fighting was simple, and it kept both of them focused. But it was the aftermath, when the enormity of all that had happened settled down on them -- that was the true nightmare of it all. And they got through it together.

Do I think either of them caught feelings because of it? No, I don't -- so, there was no heartbreak attached to this at any point, either. But it was still emotional and poignant and it mattered, and I think both of them are really glad they did it.

[kjthenbee]

Some of my rambling thoughts about tonight’s WWDITS episode - the much-anticipated S4E9: Freddie.

First thing’s first: I appreciate that they did something that none of us expected or predicted by instead of having Nandor be jealous of Freddie, he started crushing on Freddie. Honestly, I really love that Nandor has been shown to be so openly queer this season, more so than has ever been shown before in the series. And I definitely think it’s being done for a reason. I also think that there is a reason Nandor specifically latched into Freddie as well, but we’ll get to that later.

Before that, I wanted to discuss something that has really bothered me this season and came to a head this episode. It’s bad enough that Marwa had pretty much lost all of her agency and was basically brainwashed into marrying Nandor due to his wishes (which imo makes their relationship as a whole not super consensual). Now, Marwa, one of the few female characters and the only POC female character, has now (presumably) been permanently turned into an exact copy of a white british man. She has completely lost all agency, and is no longer herself. Literally.

I really loved Marwa’s character and her actress. I wanted to see more of her in the show. And as Nandor steadily removed more and more of what made her the true Marwa, myself and several others have commented on how disappointed we have been with this plotline. I know a lot of us were hoping that Marwa would be returned to her original self and would get to leave and just be her own person. But I guess Nandor would have to wish for that, and it’s episodes like these where it seems he is incapable of being anything but selfish.

However - returning to the Nandor and Guillermo discussion - I do appreciate that Guillermo stood up for himself and told Nandor to his face that what he was doing was wrong and hurtful, and I saw that during that scene you could see how taken aback Nandor was. Harvey did such a great job with his acting in this scene - it made me feel for him so much, and it’s clear the scene was intended to be extremely serious despite the comical situation. It’s been shown time and time again that Nandor does, deep down, genuinely care for Guillermo, even as early as season 1. And this season especially has gone to great lengths to show us how much Nandor values Guillermo as a person and friend.

Which brings me back to the reason Nandor immediately latched onto Freddie. Just like Guillermo said - Nandor has everything he “wants.” And yet, at the end of the day, he went and chose to turn his already extremely wish-altered “perfect” wife into an exact copy of Guillermo’s boyfriend.

My theory is this, and I’m sure many Nandermo shippers think the same: Nandor is so afraid of getting too close to Guillermo. Why? My guess is he’s afraid that things will go awry and he’ll lose Guillermo forever. But, at the same time, he (as evidenced through Marwa’s words) doesn’t know what he’d do without him. He set up this big elaborate wedding, which he was clearly trying to self-sabotage, just to keep Guillermo around. However, his feelings for Guillermo appear to be so repressed that he can’t even bring himself to hug him. So what does he do? He can’t have Guillermo? How about his boyfriend. There has to be something going on subconsciously there with Nandor.

With the way things went for Guillermo in this episode, I think that they are setting up him leaving the vamps in the finale next week. I felt for him so much this episode and I love that they didn’t trivialize his misfortune this time like they’ve done in the past. He is genuinely hurt and heartbroken. And it’s all Nandor’s fault. What reason does he have to stay?

Guess we’ll find out next week.

[alexjcrowley]

Since the House M.D. fandom on Tumblr is getting bigger, I though I'd share with you the fact that all I took six years to finish watching the show, and I started well after it finished airing. Why did I take so long, you ask? Here's why.

I started watching House M.D. suring my second year in high school (in my country high school is five years, btw). When I was a kid my parents watched the show, I only caught bits of it and I didn't like it because I didn't understand it. When I was 15-16, out of nowhere if not pure curiosity, I decided to give the show a shot. I became obsessed with it.

I spent entire afternoons watching it. I was a straight A student, as americans say, I was "a pleasure to have in class" and then I started skipping P.E. to watch House on my phone in the locker room. I forced my best friend to skip the lessons with me (they did it gladly). My classmates skipped P.E. to smoke outside of the gym, I jumped up and down in the locker room to find signal so the episodes would load. I still remember making my best friend watch Euphoria part I and II whole others played volleyball. It did not end there.

I remember being at the house of an old friend studying chemistry and biology (which, ironically, I've always sucked at): it was me, my best friend and a couple of other gals. These girls were trying to understand science homework while me and my best friend were giggling because I spent all the time writing "Gregory House" with hearts around his name or lines from the show on the margins of the science textbooks. And, since I have a heavy hand with pencils and pens, I was never able to lend my science textbook to anyone ever (especially the teacher, who sometimes asked for our textbooks) because I had love notes for a fictional doctor written all over it.

I started referring to myself as House and my best friend as Wilson, and to this day on my phone my best friend is saved (amongst other nicknames) as "Jimmy" and I, on their phone, as something like "untrustworthy limp" (I started watching the show in my native language, not English, and in Italian at some point Wilson calls House "zoppo malfidato"), which, by the way, proved to be incredibly accurate because in a few years I would have started having problems with my left ankle, which would have led me to limp a lot and use crutches.

Therefore the question arises spontaneously: why did I take so long finishing the show? Well, as you can clearly understand, I really liked House's and Wilson's friendship, it meant a lot to me (and later on I would have understood, as an aromantic, it was the qpr I aspired to have).

We all know what happens at the end of season 4. I cried like a baby and all that, it took a couple of days, but I started season 5.

But then, in season 5, House and Wilson weren't magically friends again (who would have thought?). And my poor little heart, simply couldn't bear that. Suddenly I was taking P.E. again, and my best friend was asking about House and I said "I need time to elaborate". And then I didn't, for six years.

"Hey, don't they make up in the fourth episode of the season?" Yes, they do. Do you want to know at which episode of the fifith season I stopped watching because I couldn't bear to see them not being friends? The first. Fucking. Episode. I watched one episode of the fifth season that ended with Wilson saying "We're not friends anymore, House. I'm not sure we ever were" and said "Nope, I can't, MY HEART CANNOT TAKE THIS" and as a matter of a fact it didn't take it. I saw them not being friends for ONE episode for something that was ENTIRELY justifiable and I had to take a moment for six years.

"Then how did you decide to watch the rest of it one day?" well, well, well, let's jump six years forwards, no longer than last year. Last year was the worst year of my life and I doubt this will ever change, it was the first year of university and truly a year I wish I could forget. I started doing things I regret, my life was a mess, I skipped an exam, my mother was angry with me, one night I am crying in fetal position in my shower (I am not taking a shower, I am in my pijama just lying in the shower) and I think "it doesn't get worse than this". I have my phone with me, I open Tumblr to try and think of something else instead of crying and I see, unprompted (I didn't look for it), an House M.D. post.

I had tried to go on Tumblr to look for content on the show 6 years before, I hadn't found a lot. I remember I never finished watching the show. Again, my life sucks, I am thinking very bad things, I am emotionally fucked, I think I'll have to jump from a window by the way things are going. I tell myself (I very vividly remember why I stopped watching House) "it can't hurt more than what I am already going through". I start watching from the second episode of the fifth season, I remembered everything about the show.

I find out if I had powered through two more episodes at time, House and Wilson would have been friends again. I finish the show in less than a month (and the night I watch the finale I make four minutes audios to my best friend at 3 in the morning in which I bawl my eyes out and say very incoherent sad things).

And this, kids, is how I met your mother took six years to watch all House M.D. It just took me to be at the lowest point of my life but oh well if that's the price to pay.