#zigzag yaps

[awes0me-p055um]

UNCLE SAMSONITE THEORY!!!!!

idk how to hide the thing but don’t scroll if you don’t want spoilers

-

OKAY SO BASICALLY FATHER JOHN IS SCRUNCHY CHUNKS. YAY!!!! SEGWAYS INTO THEORY IN EPIC FASHION

evidence a: they both use guns. could mean something!!!

evidence b: both say mother of judas. could just be a reference but AHHHH LET A DIVA DREAM

exhibit c: both wear a black coat

exhibit d: he knows way too much. like how does bro already know this much about the bowens and uncle samsonite?? he even knew about the green one. not to mention that offbrand sofa being sam’s weakness was like a big reveal in the start of the series. but he knew ever since his first scene!!! ALSO NOT TO MENTION HE JUST. HAD SIR BOWEN CHILLING BELOW TH CHURCH. EITHER ITS HIS SPECIAL INTEREST OR SOMETHING ISNT RIGHT!!!

exhibit e: remember that one scene from episode 3 where father john and uncle sam were like

“to whom am i speaking?”

“oh i think you know..”

DIVORCED PEOPLE!!!!! THEY KNOW EACHOTHER!!!!!!!

exhibit f: isaac’s death

this is a more specific one i apologize. but do you remember how isaac’s lore is that he was possessed by uncle samsonite as a kid??? well he’s still possessed by sam in uncle samsonite returns, the video where scrunchy chunks first appears. and even though throughout the whole series father john BARELY SHOWS EMOTION BESIDES SERIOUSNESS, he seems to really care about isaac. when isaac dies, he shuts his eyes like he can’t even watch. and he says “it should’ve been me” like he’s blaming himself. like he couldn’t protect him. OOOOH YOU SEE WHERE IM GOING WITH THIS BECAUSE IF FATHER JOHN IS SCRUNCHY CHUNKS, HE WOULD’VE SEEN WHAT SAM DID TO ISAAC AND MAYBE WOULD FEEL GUILTY

exhibit g: HOW THE HELL DOES FATHER JOHN TRACK UNCLE SAMSONITE??? HE HAS A WHOLE SECRET BASE UNDER THE CHURCH. HOW WOULD HE HAVE GOTTEN A LITERAL TRACKER, DATABASE, ETC IF HE HADNT BEEN CLOSE TO HIM AT SOME POINT LITERALLY AND OR FIGURATIVELY!!

exhibit h: you know how in uncle samsonite returns, scrunchy chunks says “i’m cameron’s imaginary friend!!! you wanna rub my tummy???” well he’s an IMAGINARY FRIEND. imaginary friends are typically made up to entertain kids and keep them happy right?? well. in s2e8 when mr dad and jake get back to the church, father john doesn’t instantly get to fighting uncle samsonite like he typically would. instead, he says that jake needs time to rest. so if he was scrunchy chunks, if he was an imaginary friend at some point, maybe he’d still have a soft spot for children.

ALSO I ASKED JAKE BOWEN ABOUT IT AND HE SAID THIS

[awes0me-p055um]

canon

The Mole and The Rat from happy tree friends kapow

The Mole and The Rat from Happy Tree Friends are Divorced!

[zithergiltscorner]

MY AMAZING MUSIC TEACHER IS GETTING ME A GAY PIN MAYBE AND SHE'S AMAZING AND AMAZING AND

[two-fox-tails]

wait so we’re doing face responses now?

mod\\ hi! I just wanted to switch thing up a bit😅 it’s fun finding tails faces and I feel they add a bit more life to the response! I might stop at sometimes if I’m tired, or I’ll draw faces and add that, but for now I’m just adding a tails face👍

[moonysbookshelves]

The Cadence of Part-Time Poets

The Cadence of Part-Time Poets by @motswolo

Have been working on this 10 volume set for the past few months now, and they are finally complete. My Magnum Opus. I have peaked and probably depleted all of my brain power.

Thank you to @motswolo for writing such a beautiful story. My brain chemistry has been favourably altered. Will forever flinch when I hear Queen, The Beatles or Bob Dylan. Love to you from western Canada (west coast best coast lets gooooo).

I also posted a TikTok Reel of these since posts here are limited and I love the insides as much as the covers, so if you wanna see between the pages, here’s that.

Also thank you @avisbindery for letting me scream and cry in your DMs while I read the fic. May you get some uninterrupted sleep now LOLLL.

Going to write a whole essay below about the ideas and details because uhhh I wanna yap bit!

So for starters, I wanted to make these binds look like magazines because of the epilogue where (spoiler) Tonya sees Remus in a copy of New Musical Express. But of course this fic is long, so I was like, what if I do multiple volumes? This very quickly spiralled into me painstakingly (finding publication-accurate fonts almost sent me to an early grave) recreating 10 different music-focused magazines from the 70s and 80s from scratch (thank you to Photoshop, Affinity, Procreate and Canva). Each volume features a unique cover, along with stylized typesets to match that display the songs for each chapter but in different designs. And then I went a little crazy and made a 45 sleeve and a cassette too, to really set the scene when I took the photos lol

While the covers display the dates pertaining to the contents of that particular volume (Sept 1975 for volume one, for example) I was thinking about what the magazines would say if they were really published when Marauders are traipsing about being spectacular and famous in the future. I sprinkled in details from the fic itself and fanon-ed it a bit, but that was the general inspiration :-) Tried to keep the photos used either faceless/obscured, or to use the fancasts on Mots’ Cadence master post. I also tried to use period-accurate photos but didn’t always succeed, so settled for photos of 4 member bands where I had to :”) But the general intent with the facelessness was that they could be implied to be Marauders. If you squint? lol. Just pretend. Pls.

Volume One: Based upon The Record Song Book. This magazine went on to inspire the typesets, since it publishes lyrics and such. The cover images are of Spacey Jane and David Thewlis.

Volume Two: Based on ZigZag, specifically the issue from July 1978 featuring Siouxie and the Banshees just because I thought it looked sick as fuck. I re-drew the abstract shapes and such in procreate. The cover images are The Clash and a young Gary Oldman. Lord he was foiiine.

Volume Three: Based on Trouser Press, November 1980. The cover images are a young Metallica, and my personal fav fan cast for James, Reiky De Valk. The film negatives are from a Bruce Springsteen tour, 1976.

Volume Four: Based on Gay Times (November 1984), a queer magazine from the UK because this volume contains Wolfstars first kiss hehe. Also hence Somebody To Love plastered all over the covers. The Front cover is Inhaler. The “4A” on this one is of course the boys’ dorm number, but I made the A the lambda symbol as this was a pride symbol in the 70s after Stonewall.

Volume Five: Based on Melody Maker. Front image is Alex Turner. All of the text on this one is pulled directly from the fic. The scene where they all drop acid and James jumps off the roof Almost Famous style had me hootin’ and hollerin’… until Tomny showed up hahaha :”)

Volume Six: Based on IT (International Times, Aug 1971). Front image for this one is Joy Division, and the back features Jane Asher for Lily

Volume Seven: Based on Record Mirror, June 1976. Front image is John Taylor of Duran Duran. Yum.

Volume Eight: Based on Rolling Stone. More vibes than anything for this one, but the quote still makes me laugh.  Front image is of Matt Hitt. Can you tell I photoshopped a cell phone out of this one? IDK. This photo just screamed ‘Remus’ to me so I had to use it. The back image is an old cigarette ad, but the photo is taken in Shepherd’s Bush.

Volume Nine: Based on Fusion magazine. Front image for this one is once again Inhaler. Oops. Back cover is our gals. Images are Jodie Foster as Cherry, Brenda Sykes as Mary, and Goldie Hawn as Lottie.

Volume Ten: Based on New Musical Express. You know why :”) These are all victims of fanon, but this one especially. I wanted it to be NME instead of the re-invented logos I’d been doing for all the rest, as I wanted it to look like the magazine the Sister gives to Tonya. I referred to an issue of NME from October 1979 for this and layered in fic references where it made sense to. The cover image for this one is (I think) Cigarettes After Sex. This issue also contains all of the B-Side chapters, and the Marauders song lyrics too just for fun :)

Slasher Chick: This is just my take on what Sybill’s zine could’ve looked like. Prob way off but I just wanted to have fun with this one since I had no cover to reference lol. The zine contains her little write-up and the interview, lifted straight from the fic :")

ok yap sesh over byeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee lmfaooooo

[crowttore]

A good night's sleep - Zandik x fem reader

Notes: Akademiya Zandik rubbing off the worst one of his life. Reworked and revamped. Used to be two chapters, merged into one. Tigers have barbed penises. Steal my writing and I'll get you Streptococcus pyogenes. Tags: Akademiya!Zandik x fem reader, nonconsensual somnophilia, no penetrative sex, dry humping, (a little) blood, very vague thoughts of murder and cannibalism, panic, coercion, dubcon but not what you expect, 3.5k Minors DNI

Zandik rubbed at his eyes, trying to convince himself that his current inability to fall asleep was caused by external factors. Rustling leaves, bats, itching skin, the opportunities were endless. You'd been trekking through the forest most of the day with any proposed breaks quickly shut down.

Theoretically, he should be just as fast asleep as you. He tossed restlessly on the thin mat, cursing at the pitiful excuse for bedding. Comfortable sleep was a luxury he'd grown to take for granted, and the reminder of how things had once been stung. At least you'd managed to set up the insect net together, even if sharing the cover did mean having to be a little closer than preferable.

Pillows would've been nice. Maybe if he hadn't insisted on travelling as light as possible.

But it was always easy to be clever in hindsight.

Burying his face into the scratchy blanket, Zandik attempted to block out any disturbances. Those that could be blocked out at least, for while he was no stranger to erratic thoughts, tonight felt excessive.

His fingers tapped against his thigh in a well-known rhythm, shifting his breathing to follow. By all means, it should force his pulse down and calm his mind. A tried and tested strategy. And it did. His frantic thoughts fading into nothing, no more triple-checking plans for tomorrow, considering parts to excavate and examine, plants to bring back, measurements to take…

A blissful silence settled, broken only by the branches creaking above.

Until you moved. A small, sleepy mewl escaping your lips as you shuffled beside him. He didn't have to see you to know what infuriatingly peaceful expression would be on your face. Images of your soft features flooding his mind, fingers moving to scratch at his scalp in hopes of a distraction.

How he tried once more to push those thoughts away, his crimson eyes darkening as memories of the day filled his consciousness nonetheless. You, with your deviously impractical attire, shorts that had left practically everything exposed. It was a daring choice, reflecting the total confidence with which you had moved through the thicket. Oh how his fingers ached to know what it would be like to touch bare skin, hands flexing at the mere thought.

Nothing but a preprogrammed reaction. Although annoying and impractical, the response was natural. The thought circulated in the back of his mind, slowly losing meaning. His body curled in on itself, delirious poison spreading through his body. All those little cuts and nicks that littered your skin, how would it be to pry them open and lap at the juices they concealed?

You were fluttery by nature, a little bird struggling to remain still for longer intervals. Easily excitable as well in the most annoying way. You'd flitted around in the forest, zigzagging between moss, animals, shiny rocks, saplings… Leaning down and touching anything you could, ass up of course, while you chatted about your findings.

He'd never had problems concentrating, but with all the blood draining from his mind to other places, it had been impossible to focus on your ramblings.

Despite the hurdles of keeping you on a leash, he always found himself having to suppress a smile when you yapped, eyes alight with innocent glee. So much went on behind those bright eyes of yours, words clearly too slow to convey everything clearly. That much was evident with how you sometimes spoke in tongues, stumbling over syllables and skipping words entirely.

But better yet, how you looked when your brows furrowed, sucking your cheek in enough to bite at the inside, actually considering his perspectives.

Before he could register it, he'd already rolled around on his mat, eyes burning holes into your back. A shaky hand reached out, his breath catching in his throat as he fought the desire to examine, squeeze, grope… He groaned softly, reminding himself that this was an endeavor driven by pure inquisitiveness, the goal being nothing more than to satisfy curiosity. You were asleep and would be none the wiser as long as he was careful.

The mantra kept repeating itself. This was curiosity, and nothing more. Curiosity about why you had that blasted effect on his mind, and if pursuing physical intimacy would solve his inability to sleep. It was a need akin to hunger, satisfy it and he'd be left alone.

There was already an uncomfortable tightness at the front of his pants, the feeling unfamiliar and invasive. Instinct kicked in and made his hips buck a little, erection rubbing against the confines of his pants. Archons he needed more than this. It infuriated him to no end that his mind had no qualms conveying the blunt desire from his body. The solution was so tantalizingly simple, engrained in every fiber of his being.

Your touch would make it go away. Make it all better.

He shifted closer, needing to know if you truly felt as divine as the most prominent hypothesis of his body had stated. Zandik had to bite down on his own arm, sharp teeth threatening to break skin as his other hand ghosted along your waist. How it had snaked under your blanket without his knowledge was beyond him.

You were unimaginably warm and pliant under his touch, fingers easily sinking a little deeper. Everything in his body tingled, an almost magnetic pull spurring him on to shift ever closer. Your breaths were still even, body vulnerable and his for the taking.

Though it was an act of worship, his hands traveling along your body felt more akin to sacrilege. Crimson irises were swallowed by his dilating pupils, palm sliding so tenderly across your soft stomach, somehow already under your shirt. Just a little more. He needed some reaction from you, assurance that this was real. That he hadn't inhaled spores and was caught in a hallucination. How terribly unbefitting such a fate would have been.

But every way of getting a reaction brought an increased risk of waking you completely, compromising the experiment. Reassurance wasn't worth it. Everything was foreign and uncomfortable, a tightness straining against the front of his boxers. He had to close his eyes, unwilling to watch as his hips bucked again, a low hiss passing his lips at the slight friction provided by the fabric.

Still reluctant to risk fully pressing against your inviting form, Zandik settled for sliding his hand further up. It was downright ludicrous how your skin got even softer the closer he moved to your chest. There was something repulsively human about the way your heart felt as it beat steadily behind your ribs.

He wanted to throw up.

He needed to get closer.

Holding his breath while inching closer was no small feat when your dewy scent permeated the air. If only it was possible to tear skin and flesh from bone, lay it out on the ground and examine. Perhaps then, Zandik would find what made you so irresistible.

It was almost euphoric to be so close to something as plush and supple and unmarked by the cruelty of the world. It had to be preserved, too ephemeral for anything but a jar of formaldehyde stored far from sunlight. He groaned, still careful enough to angle his head to prevent warm air from brushing along the back of your neck.

Temptation had him firmly in its grasp as he slowly, deliberately, rolled his hips against your rear, body jolting at the feeling. Any will to resist the delicious pull from your body faded, hands slowly moving back down to your hips and adjusting your position.

Zandik felt alive, burying the part of him that bled out with every slow buck of his hips. The wet patch that had been forming at the front of his boxers did nothing to quell the beast piloting his body. Daring to look down, he found nothing but fuel for his frenzy in the lines of your body, every slope begging to be mapped.

Everything in his mind screamed at him to let go and back away. Not for your sake, no you were still blissfully unaware, an exhausted little creature. No, the longer he continued the more certain he became that this had to be preserved. There had to be a way to mimic it, reverse engineer whatever made it impossible for him to stop.

He inhaled deeply, intoxicated as he kept bucking against you, delirious mind too far gone to notice the little huffs and whimpers that left your lips, sleep clearly disturbed by his movements.

It was a dangerous battle, fingertips playing with the hem of your panties. The battle might be won through composure, but there was no doubt he would lose the war. But could it truly be counted as a loss? In a sense, shouldn't he map out every detail to get the most accurate answer.

Zandik swallowed, fingers slipping beneath the thin cotton and edging closer to your heat, burning his skin and making his stomach churn. There was nothing practiced about it, tentatively tugging and rubbing at whatever tissue came within reach. Your squirming was nothing against his hold, body curling greedily around you.

Feeling the tip of his finger slick with something viscous, barely breaching a tight entrance, Zandik withdrew his hand with a sharp jerk. His hold was steadily morphing to mimic the vultures of his birthplace, nails sinking in like talons. Tear you to pieces, that was what he needed.

He barely realized that he'd begun chanting your name between grunts. It was all too much, uncoordinated movements growing even sloppier as he found himself unable to stop. An overwhelming feeling was building in the pit of his stomach, drowning out every uncertainty that made its home there.

Pure ecstasy was all he felt, head pressed against your shoulder as he came. His nails were stained with your blood when he finally loosened his grasp. The wet sensation between his legs, fluids smeared against skin and fabric alike, brought nothing but repulsion. There was only simple, temporary pleasure to be gained from this endeavor. Expecting anything more profound had been folly.

So this clarity was the price to be paid for his actions?

No, the real price was paid when he heard your confused voice, the pale moonlight too invasive in the way it lingered along your trembling body. How it reflected in the shimmering droplets of blood running from atop your hip. Small sniffles mixing with your terribly soft voice.

"Z-zandik? What just… why is my back wet? a-and I'm bleeding?"

"Go back to sleep"

Despite Zandik's best effort to keep his voice even (as even as possible while his veins continued to thrum with the aftermath of release), it still cracked uncomfortably. Wasting no time, he pushed away and shook his hands furiously in the air, trying desperately to rid himself of the unpleasant sensations crawling as parasites beneath his skin.

You were turning around. Panic spread like wildfire, something he hadn't experienced in years.

Something had to be done to make you stop, he wouldn't look at you. Moving in tandem, he rolled onto his other side. The front of his boxers soaked. An urge to scream scratched at the back of his throat.

"Zandik? I- I asked you a question…"

Your voice felt like syrup as it flowed into his ears. Thick, disgusting, alluring. The light sniffles were filtered out by his mind, as was the way your breaths became increasingly erratic. It felt vile, being an insect writhing on silken strands was not something that suited him.

Zandik recoiled when your fingers dug into his shoulder, you shouldn't be reaching out for him. He shuffled further towards the other side of his mattress. A calm mind to handle this, that's what was needed, and nothing about you trying to turn him around was calming. Although his mind had cleared significantly, there was still a bothersome ache in his body.

"And I said go back to sleep," he snapped, hoping it would dissuade further argument.

Everything felt awful when he pushed off to stand, blanket sliding into a pile. His back was towards you when he clambered out under the net, stomping barefoot away from the makeshift camp. Under normal circumstances he would've scoffed at anyone doing the same, if was unsafe and a blatant overreaction.

That didn't matter. Not when he could feel the sticky substance sliding down his abdomen. How it made the fabric cling to his skin. Worst of all was the smell of his own release. Even while covering his mouth and nose with a hand, he could detect those musky notes.

It made him gag, crumpling into the underbrush as he fought back the urge to empty the contents of his stomach. Morbid curiosity bid his free hand to ghost over his crotch, body jerking when he felt the wet patch. Even worse was the fact that he was still-

He shook his head, uncaring that any jostling came at a risk while his vision remained blurry, especially with the abundance of roots and the like. A clear mind, that was the least he should be able to supply. Faint sounds of running water caught his attention. Perfect.

It was closer than he'd dared to hope. Half tumbling down a small hill before landing on all fours with a wet squelch. The water had already been disturbed by his movements, if there were predators, stealth was no longer an option.

Restraint was the key to survival, panic a certain death-sentence. Being found half naked, mauled in a stream was far from the legacy he desired. After what felt like an eternity of bated breaths, eyes flickering around the dark forest, Zandik dared to relax a little. If a spinocrocodile or rishboland tiger had been nearby, it would've already struck by now.

Cleaning himself took longer than what was reasonable, but the cool water helped soothe the prickling beneath his skin, making the extra time spent a worthwhile investment. Thoughts of you were kept at bay by his shivering, and every tantalizing memory that did make it through those defenses was quickly decimated with a simple look at the consequences staining his hands.

Failure was a ruthless teacher.

One could only hope the remaining sheen and slightly sticky feeling would be nothing more than a trick of the mind.

His hands remained submerged in the stream until his fingers had gone numb. Slivers of moonlight crept through the canopies above, something twisted in how gently it caressed his features when his head tilted back. Why would it shine so lovingly on him now?

Perhaps playing your preordained part was the only way to be accepted by them.

Walking back turned out to be more difficult than expected, feet dragging along the ground being a particular nuisance when paired with less than optimal lighting conditions.

Would divinity smile upon a monster filling the place they had carved for it?

How would he explain the blatant lack of clothes? The thought of stumbling into someone else on the short walk back briefly flashed through his head, but that was a thought his pride could not afford to entertain. Not until faced with that reality at least. But what would he say when you undoubtedly kept pestering him with questions?

Returning to the Akademiya alone would be folly when everyone knew you'd left together.

He rubbed at the bridge of his nose, briefly flinching from the cold touch. How was he supposed to deny what you would've pieced together in an instant if you were properly awake. Convincing you it had been a figment of your own imagination was undoubtedly the best course of action. If only there were dreams to blame.

Conveniently, your back was turned towards the direction he emerged from. Carefully maneuvering back to his mat, Zandik swiftly rummaged through the modest bag he'd brought, desperate for anything to cover himself with after forsaking his clothes in the water. A waste, but one he couldn't bring himself to care about. Especially not when his focus was broken by you moving a little.

With rising adrenaline, he swiftly plopped down, struggling to pull the blanket over himself without alerting you. Clean boxers were gripped tightly in his hand, mind occupied by counting the bated breaths with which he waited an eternity for you to settle.

When you hadn't moved for a while he took the chance to shuffle around a bit, intent on finally getting dressed again and forget this whole ordeal.

"You know," your soft voice caused his breath to hitch, the silence deafening before you continued, "you could've just asked me…"

He lay frozen, leg raised off the ground, boxers halfway on as he considered if acknowledging your statement would doom his set course of action. Before he could finish the thought, you continued, uncharacteristically certain in your choice of words.

"I'm at least guessing it wasn't an accident?"

"I simply needed some air and got up. It's none of your concern," he found himself struggling to remain cordial.

Why couldn't you just leave him be?

He heard your little huff, could almost see the way you were no doubt leering at him, deep eyes narrowed in frustration. It was infuriating how quickly you flooded his mind again, the clear water of the stream having done nothing to wash away the grooves in his mind that immediately sent thoughts in your direction.

"Why can't you just admit to it? I know that was cum on my back, Zandik. I'm not stupid."

"Good, then you'll have no trouble understanding when I tell you to stop bothering me and go back to sleep."

Admittedly, the words came out harsher than intended, but the longer you remained awake, the more difficult it would be to write all this off as a drowsy delusion once the sun rose.

It took mere minutes before his attempt at rest was disturbed by a weight against him. Wanting nothing more than look at the stars and scream, Zandik rolled carefully onto his back. Instead of stars, your eyes were alight with a foreign glint, face directly above his.

Hope became a dwindling resource when your thighs settled on either side of his hips. Seeing the light bruises that had already begun to bloom from his touch made it impossible to resist reaching for your exposed flesh. Shame burned in his blood, not from the action itself but the realization that he hadn't been nearly as restrained as he thought.

He took a deep breath, tensing when your hands pushed down on his shoulders.

"Get off"

"Why? Isn't this what you wanted?"

He had to grit his teeth when you rolled your hips, keenly aware of the blood gathering down there. It didn't help how warm you felt against him.

"I said, get off"

You were plotting something. That much was obvious from the little twitch of your lip and the cunning stare. If he wasn't struggling to keep his focus away from your lips, he might have been able to prepare.

The relief that entered him when you leaned forward was palpable, consciousness trapped in a beautiful lie of its own making as he spent two seconds expecting you to roll off. Instead your warm tongue pressed against his pulse, dragging up the column of his neck. It made him groan, hands shooting up and grabbing your waist in an instant to stop your movements.

That was a mistake. Once more feeling your softness had his mind reeling, only made worse when your breath wafted against his ear, close enough that he could almost feel your soft lips against his skin.

"But I want to do this with you"

Something in your voice made him shiver, stoking the embers of an unknown force. You wanted him. Him. It made him briefly pause, and that was apparently all the opportunity you needed. It was foreign, the feeling of hands clutching at his body making his back arch. He didn't have time to react before you'd pulled the blanket out from between your bodies.

"How are you-" his voice falters, nothing but static in his mind for a moment. "How can you enjoy this?" How could you enjoy being a slave to the vessel that carried what truly mattered, the mind.

Bubbling laughter was all the answer he got, swiftly accompanied by the press of lips against his collarbone. He writhed at the feeling, obtrusive and far too intimate. Would you rip out his throat if given the chance? Would he? Would you scream or would the blood make it impossible to produce high-pitched sounds?

His fingers were sneaking under the hem of your shirt, discovering with dismay that the fabric had a moist spot at the very bottom. So you hadn't changed. Repulsive.

Warmth spread through his body with every reverent kiss, some part of him basking in the attention so freely offered. Zandik wasn't blind to how his cock throbbed from the stimuli as you eagerly dragged your hips back and forth. But that simple pleasure was nothing compared to the feeling of your back splitting open under his nails.

Dottore Masterlist

[tactical-jellyfish]

Winding down

Synopsis: A mission's end is always an odd thing to live through, but you've found ways to manage, WARNINGS!: depiction of injury, pain, description of gun sounds and bullets. Canon-typical violence (mission) Little notes: Hurt my thumb (big typing finger for me) so if there are any errors with spelling, please don't mind This blog is still very much new to me, so if you have any little silly comments or requests for bonus stuff, send an ask! It'll make my day :) enjoy! (but only if you wanna)

---------------------------------------------------------------------------- There was dust in the air, swirling like a typhoon that simply ached to consume you and all you held dear. It doesn't throw anyone off, though, you've all been trained better than that. Price's voice is in your ear again, biting out the order to "get out of there, you dolt, bomb's off in thirty seconds." It's nothing you've never heard before, you know you've cut it closer and got out fine, so you wait until you have to reload to push the button on your radio and bite back a response. "Give me ten, Cap, and I'll be clear. Stragglers." You can hear him growl under his breath, but quiet. Some part of you would smirk in satisfaction, tease the old man over knowing damn well you could pull your weight, but there isn't time for that now. You're on the clock, and it ticks much too fast The familiar, satisfying click soothes any remaining thought as you slam the gun's magazine into your thigh to push it in the rest of the way, peek out from behind your cover to unleash another spray of shots into the idiot who was trying to creep up on you. Fifteen seconds

If your ear serves you right, only one left. if you take him out in five, that leaves you ten to get out. Risky, but the odds aren't zero. Your radio buzzes back to life, but now it's the other John yapping at you, something something "Get out of there." and then your name. Johnny doesn't use your callsign, but your name. It pulls you back from the edge of bloodlust just long enough for your mental count to hit ten. "Right. Clearing out." That's all you bother with before setting on your mad dash for the exit of the decrepit concrete rectangle that is this building. West's compromised, too piled with bodies to be a safe bet for running, and East is blocked. So you run North, through unfamiliar, winding hallways, for your life. Six seconds

The thumps of your boots aren't alone. You were right, though, there's only one more soul in this nasty shit-hole. Five seconds You hear a magazine getting knocked into place, cuss to yourself and push even harder, try your damnedest to get out of this unscathed. It isn't looking good now. Four seconds A bullet tears through the wall right next to your head when you turn the corner with a resounding crack. Fuck. The thrum of adrenaline is the only thing that supports you as you continue the mad dash for the door, see it at the end of a long, straight hallway. Three seconds This is getting worse by the second, and you know it. This fucker has good aim, there's no space to zigzag or dash in a random direction like a flighty, scared animal. Two seconds Time to run the gauntlet. Glass crunches beneath the soles of worn boots, you fly through the hallway as fast as your legs will allow, silently screaming a prayer to a god you know never listens. One second

Right as you cross the doorway, there's another crack of a bullet, but it's drowned out by the bomb finally going off. The shockwave is so intense that it launches you into the air (it feels much higher than it is), and, all at once, you turn to get a look of who almost managed to put you in a box. They're all dolled up in tac gear, but you know the look in their eyes the second you spot it. It's the same determination that drives you forward, raw and feral and it's tinged by the rush of adrenaline you live for. Young, too, they couldn't be older than you were when you first joined the task force. Then, when the ceiling above them cracks and stars to come down, it's fear. Your memories of the minutes after are loose at best, but you try to piece them together. You know that, at some point, you rose to your feet, made the jog back to the evac point with that rookie's blood sprayed on the vest that caught their last bullet. It would have hit you right between the ribs. You know that Kyle wordlessly sets a cigarette between your parted lips, pulls you in by the neck to light it with his own, hazel eyes focused as he calms himself back down. You know that he's there, next to you, like always, it warms you, if only slightly. Kyle doesn't press, doesn't try to talk, but he makes a point to show you that he's there. You know that Johnny breathes out a plume of that weird vape shit he's been swearing by (it smells like a public restroom if it was mint flavored), makes a bad joke about "butt fucking" because that's what they call bumming a light in Scotland. You think his friends just picked it up from shitty American movies and lied to him. You know that, when you finally take a drag, the nicotine shocks your systems back into full function. You know that when you open your eyes again, the world is clear. You see Price trot forward and let out a breath of both annoyance and pride. He used to tear you a new one every time you pulled a stunt like this, but now he knows better, knows you operate at your best in the split second between like and death. So now, you feel his hand pat the shoulder of your vest, resigned but proud. You feel your cheeks round with a small smile when you finally pull the cig back from between you lips, finally yourself again. "Not bad, ain't it? All targets neutralized." Your voice is just a little raspier than normal, tinged with the fading of your adrenaline high. From the corner of your eye, you see Ghost, leaning on the helicopter's side. He nods. "Aye, that was feckin' pretty, ye stupid lil cunt!" Your snort seems to make Johnny beam even wider than before, you feel the warmth of his side as he pulls you into a firm, one-armed hug. Out of sheer habit, you retch jokingly, and shove him back. "Gross! You're fucking sweaty, Soap, don't muck up my good shirt!" Your 'good shirt' is torn at the bottom hem, has a fine spray of blood on it, and is half-covered in concrete dust from the former building that is now a pile of smoking rubble a few hundred meters away. It'll all come off in the wash, just like today's sins will spiral into the drain of a weird-smelling communal shower room. And you know, come tomorrow, you'll be training with your boys once more, trading quips and barbs and soaking in camaraderie. For now, that's more than enough.

[ziarcflos]

"You are challenged by Gym leader Zelvira!" Been into Pokemon again lately so I made a Gymsona! Naturally, we're going with ghost specialty, ehe~ I tried to recreate the pokemon style but I made the lineart too thick at first and it's just too late to go back.. Yapping ahead!

The ghastly evolution line would fit with him in the team because of his mischievous nature but sadly they're not really some of my favorites. But yeah! There is an obvious taste in my choice of Pokemons LMFAO The doll-likes and "edge", just like me HAHA

Here's a note on how I designed my Gymsona. I just based it on what I see on my Pokemon of choice + The designs I love about them. I have come to notice I really love the zigzag + Diamond pattern His gym is a haunted mansion. The Gimmick is inspired by Fatal Frame where you take a camera to take pictures of ghosts. The thing is the camera is needed to reveal secret passages. Take a picture of a ghost and you're getting png-jumpscare a.k.a trainer battle. The puzzle is as annoying as Flannery's puzzle because of the twists and turns of the passages. All the candles are blue but one with a slight purple flick is a hint to the right entrance, but only the camera can reveal it.

Occasionally, He will hold a magic show in the gym because why not :] Lore reason, it's to attract more people to try his gym and he just likes showing off many performative entertaining things Pokemon can do AAAA.. Got more lore about him but this is what I will share for now until next opportunity

[edwad]

do you have advice on reading volumes II and III of capital given their incompleteness/editorialization?

people make a huge fuss about v3 because of engels' editorial decisions and the perceived importance of the arguments there, but arguably v2 is tougher to approach in a careful way. for one thing, we have the 64-65 manuscript available in english now, so you can do what my group did and follow heinrich's suggestion in switching between the published book and the manuscript when it makes sense (i don't have that exact breakdown rn but i could get it for you). another huge thing is that the v2 manuscripts are more spread out chronologically, so that it's about a decade of uneven research being stapled together (as opposed to v3, which is largely contained to a couple years with the chief difficulty just being that a decade has *passed* between when they're written vs when he's revising v1 and drafting chunks of bk2)

i'm not sure how the pauls plan to navigate these problems, but they've agreed to tackle v2 and 3 as well so hopefully we'll get a more scholarly/critical edition out of them than what's currently available. if you're stuck with existing editions, penguin is still fine (along with the manuscript for v3). as far as guides, harvey is better at v2 stuff imo so he's not the worst to refer to sometimes, but he is weird about zigzagging through an incomplete reading of v3. i actually remember john fox's book as being surprisingly useful for what it was tbh.

and, as always, don't let the text walk all over you. it's not just unfinished, it's unfinishable. it's not consistent and he's pursuing all kinds of open-ended inklings which he doesn't always shut or resolve. there's also a whole industry dedicated to mass-producing v2 and v3 scholarship if you need it (palgrave and brill have plenty of options), so you never quite run out of people yapping about them. unfortunately, v2 doesn't get the same level of love in these things, so it's still an immense accumulation of v3 commentaries, but you can learn a lot by picking through those debates.

[batsplat]

a valentino-centered question—setting aside the track rivalries and drama, who do you think valentino actually likes the most among the other aliens? based on their personalities, or just the vibe when they’re together—

nyhh unfortunately there's an easy answer here, which makes it kinda boring. but it's also unambiguously correct - it's dani. I guess this kind of depends on what you mean 'like' and... if it's even possible to separate that out from on-track rivalries... I'm very much a sports supremacist in that I believe the interpersonal relationship is always first and foremost determined by competitive circumstance. it's not the ONLY factor and I suppose we could imagine a theoretical world in which they were all like... idk, bakers... but, well, they're not

decided to kill ten minutes of my life I'm never getting back by providing a rough chart of how valentino's feelings towards each of the aliens developed over time

[hopefully you should be able to figure this out without a key, but if not: dani - orange; casey - lilac (?); jorge - blue; marc - red. the lil loops reflect events/complexities tough to capture; the zigzags represent 'well you people are all over the place'; the question marks are 'too little information but this was probably where valentino was at'; and the dashes similarly are... this range makes sense. science]

so as you can see, dani has the highest average. valentino knew him when he was still a teenager and got teenage dani drunk, which means dani gets an instant leg up by having an established dynamic pre-competition AND by not having quite the same idolisation weirdness going on with him as the other three. helps give them a more normal relationship... dani never seemed quite so weird about valentino. 2006 dani came in as the Next Big Thing and we have circumstantial evidence to suggest valentino did respond at least a little to that, but then in 2007 casey decided to be the Next Big Thing instead. this is extremely vibes-based - but in the latter bit of the og alien era you do feel like dani was Winning Here because valentino had a way more toxic relationship with the other two aliens and needed someone to reliably yap to, before ever so slightly doing less of that when the marc relationship was its best. afterwards it's a reversion to the mean - you still get an isolated bit of faff like the aragon 2017 overtake dispute, but broadly we're just in nebulously fond territory

casey, jorge and marc's rivalries with valentino really don't need to recapped again at this stage. the point is they obviously took them all quite firmly out of the nebulously fond territory at one point or another. between casey and jorge... idk I do feel like putting 'meh' over 'I hate you (fun)' is a bit kind to jorge for the 2008-9 period, where valentino's 'meh' towards jorge really was a proper meh. they weren't enemies, but valentino wasn't interested in engaging with jorge as a person At All in a way that was not true of casey. and even when casey existed in the 'I hate you (fun)' range, they were still pretty warm with each other in-person. I've had casey and jorge end up roughly in the same territory as dani - I think gun to his head, valentino would still prefer dani, but there is a certain 'gosh we sure did try to kill each other fifty times' fondness he shares with casey and jorge more than with anyone else. doesn't mean they're FRIENDS, none of these tiers are friends, but... nebulously fond

the main aberration is obviously jorge's starting point. again we only have gossip and jorge's impressions to go off, but jorge does seem to have been the only alien where valentino just... did not vibe with him from basically day zero. like, already didn't like him before jorge entered the premier class, quite probably before yamaha even chose him as valentino's prospective teammate. yes, the internal competition thing will have played into valentino's refusal to engage with jorge in any way whatsoever for as long as he possibly could, but... idk man, clearly there was something else going on there too. fundamentally there was nothing wrong with the interpersonal chemistry between valentino and any one of dani, casey or marc - it's just everything else that was a problem. jorge is in the weird position where every time they feuded, after maybe a year they recovered to a higher point than their previous baseline. in a way it brought them closer together. so maybe the basic interpersonal chemistry was SHIT but the situation was saved by several mutual murder attempts

anyway. idk. I find this really tough to disentangle from on-track rivalries because that was... the whole reason these people know each other. like,, sure, valentino may have picked up on some superficial resemblance between himself and marc that helped the, get on well at the start, but those similarities were also why that relationship was always going to get worse if they spent any length of time properly competing with each other. so very much a 'stuff that united them also divided them' situation, which ends up being kinda a net neutral as far as vibes are concerned. the similarities between casey and valentino were actively not a good thing for that relationship, since it's all stuff like 'unrivalled ability to hold grudges' and 'pettiness' and 'paranoia' and 'willingness to escalate' and 'dispositional nastiness'... so to the extent that they vibed with each other, it was in spite of all that stuff. those two had an occasionally bizarre mismatch between their rhetoric versus 'the evidence of my own eyes' that is pretty unique within the genre of valentino rivalries, but also is a result of the context in which that relationship existed. casey coming into that rivalry with a lot of baggage (some related to valentino) and valentino's penchant for mind games with his direct competitors made that relationship deeply messy. my guess is that valentino really did find jorge kinda annoying and grating, but also that can't be separated from how jorge was positioned from day one of their actual rival as both an external and an internal threat. and yeah, with dani, obviously it does HELP that both times they were in a title fight-adjacent situation, 2006 and 2008, there was always Another Guy valentino had reason to be more worried about

idk I feel like this is kind of an annoying answer... my personal bugbear is fans forgetting this is a Sport and these people are Competing for Titles, like I WANT that to be more important than how much they vibe personally lol. and luckily you'd have to say valentino agrees with me on this... fundamentally he was there to Win. which, good. from 'basic personality compatibility', jorge was in a worse situation than the other three imo - though you have to suspect that's partly because jorge was the one who was copying valentino most closely. idk if it's necessarily a PROPRIETARY thing like there's no reason to believe valentino had any issue with other riders doing celebrations, but... the whole effect. jorge establishing himself as A Character. the flamboyance situation in the yamaha garage. jorge being awkward and try-hard and arrogant in a way that isn't in truth a million miles away from valentino himself, but valentino finds grating from jorge specifically. that's just a guess! we have way more to go on for the jorge side of the equation, and first and foremost valentino was just 'withdrawn' towards jorge for much of their early partnership. not actively unpleasant. but yeah. my guess is jorge is the main outlier in the negative sense in that his relationship started out significantly worse than you'd expect from their competitive situation, whereas with the other three it's... about where you'd think early on. but, well. at least valentino and jorge eventually made it work. kind of

[dandytherainbowflower]

Ooc; me yapping about twisted versions of my ocs because I am bored

twisted Morgan (uncommon )

same speed as shrimpo and a somewhat average attention span with the ability to just randomly move in zigzagging patterns (I might change this tbh )

twisted Sam (rare)

Average attention span and has average speed with a ability I haven’t come up yet 😭

[awes0me-p055um]

why is there so much snufkin/moomintroll art on my tumblr rn. like i love them so much i would die for them but give me STINKY. GIVE ME STINKY ART

[cruesuffix]

The thing about redheads needing more sedatives makes me think of when Mick was talking seconal. That was a sedative right? No wonder he was taking so much of it.

Also when Mick got hip replacement surgery.

oh anon i could talk about this for an hour!! i hope it doesn’t sound weird but im so fascinated by pre red, white and crue era so bad. ok ok, lemme yap a bit sorry!!! oh also trigger warning for drug use!!! (in depth descriptions and details) so if that’s not for you, you can skip this one!!

i don’t know if i’ve already mentioned this in a previous post, but yes seconal is a sedative, a barbiturate to be exact. i believe it was used to cure insomnia or whatever. so it wasn’t exactly a painkiller, but if mick was using it recreationally he’d probably still have to take a lot of it to feel the effects… at least if we go off of the idea that redheads need more sedatives than the normal person. which makes sense now that i think about it. i just thought he was doing it cause he was all reckless and shit but no… that mf was probably like “dude why ain’t this working?”

(btw: do yall remember in the book when he talked about getting diagnosed finally and then spending most of the 70’s and early 80’s taking like 45 advils a day? i wonder if they were just regular advil or extra strength, cause personally I built up such a high tolerance for regular advil that i have to take extra strength when i need it. if it was regular advil it would make so much sense for him to be constantly eating that cause, especially for him, that shit just doesn’t work much. all of this is just making me go “omg this makes sense now!” about everything lmaooo)

ALSO, my favourite topic (weirdly so)! i did do some research before… for reasons ofc.

ok little fun fact: now, the whole reason so many people got addicted to oxys was because purdue pharma (the company that made oxycontin) lied to the fda about how long their capsules lasted. they said they lasted twelve hours (so… twelve hours of pain relief), but they actually only lasted eight hours! so, someone takes their pills for the first time, they’re absolutely high (cause oxy is just heroin in pill form) for eight hours. of course, it works the first couple of times you take it, but after a while you build up a tolerance. most people built up a tolerance very quickly because they were being lied to about how long their pills lasted. that’s how most if not all of them got addicted… well also if you factor in the whole “heroin in pill form” part of it.

BUT, that being said, thinking about what we know now about redheads… i do wonder about mick. i know he said something in the resurrection of motley crue doc about how he was taking 18 pills a day for the pain. i know that was most likely a gross over exaggeration of the situation but it’s likely he WAS taking a whole bunch because of his high tolerance and the redhead thing…

OH ALSO coupled with the fact that he wasn’t just taking oxys either. he’s mentioned vicodin and lortab (another opioid i think), so add those to the mix. don’t know much about lortab, but i do know he was taking real high doses of that one too. i also think we should account for how high the doses of his medication were… cause that too probably has something to do with the “redheads need more sedatives thing” like, they might need higher doses as well. he probably needed to be prescribed higher dosages because he wouldn’t be able to feel a regular dose… of course it was probably better off he didn’t get prescribed those hard drugs in such high doses but… it makes sense now that i think about it this way.

ok i’m so sorry for yapping this much and in such an unorganized way, i’m actually way too mentally ill about the events of ‘04 and pre red, white and crue era tbh… like this might be embarrassing cause why does a girl need to know all the intimate details of such a tragically personal thing?? idk don’t sue me pls!!! i hope this makes some semblance of sense though, i did zigzag through the topic so much.

[zithergiltscorner]

Det sägs att vikten på själen på själen är tjugo gram

Så när man till sist andas ut

utan att dra in sin ande igen

är man lättare en man vart förut

och allt som du äger och allt som du var

det körs till en tipp och förfars

när det blir dags för dig att ge dig av

får du resa med lätt bagage

[ Auntie Ziggy's translation . . . warning, this song is very much about death ]

It's said that the weight of the soul is twenty grams

so when you finally breathe out

without dragging your breath in again

you'll be lighter than you were before

and everything you've owned, and everything you were

is driven to some dump and rots

when it's your time to part ways

you'll be traveling with light bagage

[mothmans-wedding-photographer]

Mothman's Buffy Rewatch, Season 4, episodes 12 and 13, "A New Man" and "The I in Team"

A New Man

Surprise party!!!

Teaching Anya manners 😭😭

"I've seen the library. It's gone downhill since you left" Why is Riley genuinely funny

Oo poor Giles yowch

Wait where does Anya live ?

"We thought you were a myth" "Well, you were myth-taken!"

Professor Walsh shut upp

Saying seventeen like it's an achievement 😭😭 (it probably is just not compared to Buffy)

Girl is not impressed

Why don't they have like a demon rising calendar?? What do the other watchers do at the council??

Riley is flabbergasted

"I'm not even sure I could take you" you couldn't <3 hope this helps

Oh this is so awkward

"Buffy clearly lacks a strong father figure" SHUT UP PROFESSOR WALSH

Yeah that's a good point tbh Giles why did no one tell him

The way he said Spike is sending me

What is a fishwife???

ETHAN

"Oh bugger I thought you'd gone" good bit

They're having a dinner-date

Aww they're having fun sparring

The mat falling 😭😭

Man what did you expect would happen she's literally magic

ETHAN WHAT

"Just kidding" is crazy

TARA IS BACK

romantic

"You know I feel like hell in the morning" he's literally me

Giles got demon'd

Nothing is going tight for

"I like pancakes because they're stackable. And waffles because you can put things in them" She's literally just yapping I love her 😭😭

"I held back a little"

"Speaking demon language" I love subtitles

"No you're speaking Fyarl, I happen to speak Fyarl"

Threatening to kill him. Can Spike fight Giles since he's currently a demon?

200 dollars 😭

Why do military people say negative that's so much longer than just saying no

He's got the mucus thing

AHAHAHAHA ok deserved

Riley I highly doubt you can stop Buffy from coming

"I'll pay you another 100$" 😭😭

She saw it was Giles awww

"Is this real silver?"

Yay he's fine!

Lmao get fucked Ethan

Yay Riley comes to accept that she's strong and in charge

HER LOYALTIES ARE NOT UNCERTAIN SHUT UP PROFESSOR WALSH

314, the number they mentioned earlier

The I in Team

Willow cheating in board games

Willow's judgy face when she thinks Xander has drugs 😭😭

Anya discovers the joys of beating people in gambling

"But probably pro-ex-demon"

Get their asses Buffy

The pit is such an ominous name

Willow's freaky

Tara and Willow tike yippee!!!

Awwwww :(

Tara's zigzag hair part

What baby

OH I REMEMBER ADAM

He's like Adam from the Bible. Because they're creating him. Similar to Frankenstein's creature, who compares himself to Adam in the book (his favourite book is Paradise Lost, for those who haven't read Frankenstein)

"More is... more"

Oof Willow hurt Tara's feelings for no reason 😭

If the apocalypse comes, page her

Buffy with all the questions 😭😭 it's so awkward but I appreciate her

THESE PEOPLE DONT KNOW THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN SENTIENCE AND SAPIENCE POINT AND LAUGH

Tara and Willow hang out yay

Damnnnnn the misogyny is strong from this guy

Cutting between them fighting and them doing sexy stuff 😭😭

I love Giles' sass to Spike

Lmao Spike has to pay Giles back

I love how they have some continuity with Xander remembering commando stuff

Professor Walsh you suck Buffy's literally just vibing

THEIR HAIR IM CRYING

Funny squid guys

Get zapped idiot

She's such a bad actor omg (not Professor Walsh's actor, Professor Walsh herself. Which makes her actor good at being a bad actor)

BUFFY JUST STARING AT THE MONITOR

Womp womp Professor Walsh

"You think that would work?"

Girl you started it 😭😭

Oh damn okay I forgot she died like that

"Mommy" crazy

[garnett-and-friends]

Blog info

Welcome to Garnetts adventures in the Pokémon world!!

Garnett typically travels by foot to get places, despite having vehicular options avaliable to her. As she adventures, she looks for new opportunities, friends, and experiences!

Such as: Finding jobs, Starting a zen garden, trying not to crack under the stress of how Pokémon interact with her.

Ask rules:

Nothing NSFW or fetishy. Please remember these are Pokémon.

No super vague asks that are hard to format (etc: hi, *waves*, *poke*)

No references to other games or shows that isn't explicitly referenced.

No spamming the ask box, that'll make me less prone to answering that ask.

Feel free to let your Pokémon interact with my Pokémon

Posting schedule: None currently

Character intros below the cut (will update if any major character is added)

Garnett-- Gallade-- Female

Love Nanab Berries

Evolved into a Gallade due to a gene mutation.

Really despises other Gallades, will go out of her way to fight other Gallades

Protects most Pokémon she believes are trust worthy.

Actually a totally space & science nerd

Wears a red cape most of the time.

Badriyah--Banette-- Female

Loves pink anything

Adopted, lives with her father

Pampered all of her life

Lives in a giant mansion (mainly because her dad is a Gyarados so he needs the space. And just bc her dad is rich but that's besides the point)

Met Garnett as a Shuppet (Garnett was a Ralts)

Yaps so much...

Loves making sweets and tricked sweets (stuff like tomato berry brownies)

Wears a pink ribbon on the end of the zigzag... thing

Dulcinea--Minior (core)--Female

Born in the asteroid belt along with her millions of siblings and neighbors

Low hp, high moveset

Glows in the dark

One smaller spike from her crash landing on Earth

Garnetts Girlfriend (GASP!?)

Spins and bounces in boredom

Speaks in the third person

Loves helping people

Doesn't understand currency