#clusterfuck colors

[oplishin]

drew my favorite photo of seth! (og picture under the cut)

#the lighting in the original is just impeccable #god its been so long since i've drawn. and i haven't done anything for wrestle fandom!! its so weird #jrestling #seth rollins #insufferable bird of paradise #dean ambrose #he is there #indignant city pigeon #j art tag #clusterfuck colors #wild goose chase

[seance]

Sorry. You think you're a demon? With your curly little... and your neat white... I'm a fallen angel! I lied. To thwart the will of God. Well yeah, you did, but I'm not gonna tell anybody. Are you? No. Then nothing has to change, does it?

#goodomensedit #goedit #good omens #ineffable husbands #crowley #aziraphale #userbecca #ughmerlin #tusermyra #jameszmaguire #good omens spoilers #flashing gif / #edits #i had to add this clusterfuck of overlays to make the coloring work #bright scenes my worstie #but anyway this quote makes me feral and the constant parallels in the narrative are feeding me so well #rs: hereditary enemies #the fact that crowley knows him and his nature #and doesn't begrudge him for it even when it hurts them both #aziraphale's inner conflict is really one of the greatest themes on the series to me #he cares so much it sometimes blinds him

[canisalbus]

a few quick questions on Machete, what breed is he? I love the angles of his snout and the proportions remind me of a borzoi though I don't think he is one. Also, does he have a set age for when he's a cardinal? I picture him to be around mid-30s or so. Wonderful art! love your stuff and find you an inspiration :)

He's a fictional breed called Podenco Siciliano, which is closely related to modern day Ibizan Hound (pictured below) and other Mediterranean rabbit-hunting podencos. I usually just default to calling him a sighthound since he's somewhat of a provincial mongrel and not meant to be purebred anyway.

As for the age, mid-30s sounds about right. I think the current timeline goes something like this:

0 - Born to a lower-middle class family in Sicily, father is a tradesman, has three older brothers. Generally considered a runt, is weak and sick all the time, parents suspicious of his unusual colors.

3 - Gets left at a monastery and raised by monks as a foundling. Nervous and meek kid, but the monks think he's endearing and do their best to support him. Is taught to read and write, which is a massive advantage at that day and age, and learns rudimentary Latin through exposure.

9 - Apprenticed to a Neapolitan priest, moves to southern part of mainland Italy (or Kingdom of Naples as it was called, it was ruled by Spain actually). Does chores and runs errands in exchange for education and experience.

15 - The priest gets elevated to a bishop and decides to sponsor Machete's further studies at an acclaimed university in Venice (in Northern Italy). There he studies theology, medicine, arts, law, philosophy and gets fluent in Latin and adequate in Greek. Befriends Vasco but their relationship is short-lived.

21 - Ordained a priest. Leads a parish somewhere in Papal States (Central Italy). Is generally well liked but doubts his career choice from time to time.

26 - Becomes a part of the Papal Court in Vatican, mostly because of the recommendations of his former mentor and professors, good reputation, excellent track record and sheer luck. Still a priest but assists bishops, cardinals and the pope himself directly. Moves to Rome. Becomes pope's unofficial confidant due to his obedient and hardworking nature and because of his lack of prestigious family connections that would render him a threat. Slowly starts to gain wealth.

30 - Created a cardinal (which is the second highest position in the church after the pope, and it's at the sole discretion of the pope who becomes one). Is also a bishop as a technicality. Handles administrative jobs, tons of paperwork, at some point he's in charge of a lot of the political correspondence and diplomatic missions. Still the old pope's trusted advisor but disliked by the majority of the cardinals, who see him as an outsider, sycophant and a potential disruptor of the status quo.

34 - Meets Vasco again. Vasco has become a succesful politician in Florence, he's married with three children.

38 - The pope dies and Machete's status falters. He starts to work with the Roman inquisition more. Oversees trials, torture, excommunications and executions of heretics, witches and most of all, protestants (since we're reaching Counter Reformation times and the Vatican is Very Worried about the spread of Luther's ideas). Isn't having a good time at all but keeps up the appearances. Gets infamous. The beginning of the true villain era.

40 - Grows increasingly more disillusioned with life and his ideals, as well as the corruption of the Curia. Burned out, paranoid and desperate. Uses scare tactics, extortion and legal trickery to expose and undermine his enemies, but gains them faster than he can keep up. Employs spies, thugs and assassins. Feared and loathed.

43 - Gets assassinated and dies in disgrace.

#answered #jaydenchapstick #sorry this turned out sorta long #and kinda bummer too #all of this is subject to change if I end up thinking of something better #not set in stone just the current grand picture #the ages are approximate #the history of Italy and the workings of the catholic church are both such clusterfucks holy moly gosh darn #I've done research but don't rely on my word that this is all accurate and feasible in the end it's fantasy rules #whenever you see him wearing any red it's a sign he's at the cardinal phase these positions are color coded like that #Machete

[synthshenanigans]

Jashtober Day 19 - Devil

Redraw of the thumbnail from Chonny's Inferno & Shutup You're Stupid technically

[Alt versions below of course] v

- TW for bright colors!-

Og image I mostly used:

#im so happy he did handsome devil for many reasons but one of them is that i had NO fucking clue what yo make for this day #like the og “idea” i had was something to do with his song devil's tricks. #which is my least favorite chonny jash song #its a fine song just not my vibe. so i had NO clue what to do #thank you for going to hell CJ! it gave me a better idea to draw about #anyways i like this a fair bit #i drew a couple more screenshots from the music vid that i wanna post eventually #bro is fun to draw #or at least practice drawing #also I like bright colors apparently lol #love it when i burn my already blind eyeballs #chonny jash #cj thdph #why did he spell it like that btw #i mean makes sense but wack to say #the that handsome devil power hour #such a clusterfuck of words to say #*the that* especially #mans is amazing with lyrics but never ask this bitch to title something #/lh of course #but i stg if he titles something else & he makes it more complicated than the og I'm fighting him in the back alley of an olive garden #he is stronger & taller than me and i most definitely will lose but that doesn't matter #its about sending a message #okay stupidity over ill shut up now #its 6am alright give me a break #jashtober #jashtober day 19 #-atlas art- #KJ stop writing essays in the tags challenge (impossible)

[turianmailman]

Can you hear the rumble?

Can you hear the rumble that's calling?

I can feel the thunder that's breaking in your heart

I can see through the scars inside you

[ Part of the Stardew Valley AU ]

#cw domestic violence #cw blood #princess tutu #ptutu #PTT #fakir #fakir princess tutu #rue princess tutu #kraehe #princess kraehe #stardew au #context incoming: fakir and rue are cousins in this au #rues dad aka fakirs uncle is ‘’the raven’’ equivalent #and is LOOSLEY pam in the stardew equivalent #rue lives in the trailer with him and is about as good as a parent as the actual raven in the show was :/ #fakir handles this …. i wouldn’t say WELL #but idk i’ve gotten into ghost the band and the anger this song embodies is what i was going for #plus wanted to practice painting colors #but i have a comic planned that goes deeper into their 3 way dynamic #and haircut fakir is a signal that the family clusterfuck reaches its peak in the time #timeline #rue btw handles this by internalizing it and weaponizing her trauma against other people #WHEN she’s at her worst #when she’s at her best she’s a little cold but not as combative as she is in the original show #but i like to think when she feels threatened she needles people in the place where it HURTS #i just rlly wanna explore her relationship with fakir more i just don’t have time yet ;-;

[gallery-of-fuzz]

#eyestrain #no idea in mind when i started just colorful clusterfuck

[catastrophic-crisis]

An example of a new keycard and chips on the left, and an attempt at refining my currently not-officially-named tokusona. Quite purpley, isn't it?

Can you guess who's represented in the form on the left?

#jupiterposting #I hope the base form looks readable enough #guy who didn't sleep at all voice: I couldn't hide the amogus-y symbol via text here. you know the guy #absolute clusterfuck but that's what you get when you push 4 guys and gals together. at least it's primary colors #flaw of the chips system but have you considered that it can be used to make clusterfucks made up of Cool Things that don't go at all

[sheisjoeschateau]

"Oh, so we DO love Steve..." | PART I

Steve Harrington x Bauman!fem!reader enemies to lovers, heavy angst, hurt/comfort, upside down mayhem, S2-S4, post S4 universe hot-take, end-of-the-world / dystopian setting, ugly fights turned smut (...but with hella plot). 18+

WHEN THE UNEXPECTED NIECE OF MURRAY BAUMAN GETS THROWN IN THE MIX, THE GANG HAS NO IDEA JUST WHAT THEY'RE IN FOR. SCRATCH THAT - STEVE DOESN'T KNOW. YOU GET ALONG WITH EVERYONE WELL. YOU BANTER WITH THE ADULTS, WHO APPRECIATE YOUR HELP. THE KIDS LOVE AND WORSHIP YOU. YOU'RE HELPFUL ALL AROUND. BUT AS FAR AS STEVE IS CONCERNED, YOU'RE JUST NUISANCE. AFTER ALL, YOU'RE THE REASON HE LOST THE LOVE OF HIS LIFE AND MISSED OUT ON A LIFE THAT "COULD'VE BEEN." IF YOU HAD JUST KEPT YOUR SORRY ASS OUT OF THE PICTURE... IF YOU HAD NEVER GONE WITH NANCY AND JONATHAN AFTER THEY LEFT YOUR WHACK-JOB UNCLE, MURRAY BAUMAN'S, BUNKER? HE WOULD BE HAPPY. SO F*CKING HAPPY. BUT HERE YOU WERE. YOU WERE BASICALLY THE COOLER (...AND SURE, MUCH MORE ATTRACTIVE) FEMALE VERSION OF MURRAY BAUMAN. YOU WERE SARCASTIC, QUICK-WITTED, TOO SMART FOR YOUR OWN GOOD, AND APPARENTLY BUILT FOR THE WAR. SURE, YOU WEREN'T AS BRASH AS YOUR UNCLE. BUT IN STEVE'S EYES, YOU WERE SOMEHOW FAR MORE OBNOXIOUS. HE DOWNRIGHT HATED YOU. HE WILL FOREVER HATE YOU... BUT WILL HE?

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION FOR MY WORK TO BE COPIED AND/OR REPOSTED ON HERE OR ANY OTHER PLATFORM, OR PUT INTO ANY AI PROGRAMS. THIS IS AN 18+ BLOG, MDNI.

An original fanfiction series, written by Misha St. James.

⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ SERIES MASTERLIST ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

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I did not proof-read this after Tumblr gave me hell trying to share. So pls excuse possible typos. hehe

***************************************

Let's just get to the point, shall we?

Once upon a time, a young boy named Will Byers went missing. Later, he was found in an alternate dimension by the world's #1 mom and a cynical cop turned hero. A girl with a shaved head had telekinetic superpowers, befriend's Will's four loyal friends along the way and helping them track down their missing party member. Then, whatever the hell was on the other side - whatever was in this...upside down...took back Eleven. She'd been missing ever since that dreadful winter.

Fast forward to now: you're sitting in your uncle's bunker, looking at his wild display of efforts.  Papers, files, whiteboards covered in multiple words, arrows, sketches - all in different colored markers. Murray Bauman was on a mission, and he would be damned if that grumpy, cynical smart-ass known as Jim Hopper honestly thought that he could dismantle his efforts.  Nice try, chum. Game on. Thankfully, you'd gone to school with Barbara Holland. That's whose parents had assigned the task of searching for her to your uncle. Murray was asking you tons of questions, and you were glad to help. It meant spending time with the only family member you cared for, despite his wackiness. You guys got each other. Bantered well. Got shit done. Honestly, it was also a great way of drinking safely and not with a bunch of rowdy teenagers at some stupid party. You got along just fine with everyone at school. But damn, they could all be annoying.  ...especially Steve fucking Harrington, who was now the topic of conversation. You know, given that his house is where Barbara was last seen. "It just isn't making sense," your uncle huffed, raking his hands through his oily dark hair.  You sipped on the glass of vodka that your uncle had poured you, hissing at the strong taste. Leaning across the coffee table, seated on his couch, you tried to connect the dots with him. "I'm telling you, someone in that group of teens knows what's up. Or at least has an idea." Your uncle swigged at his vodka, defeated but ruthlessly trying to piece together his clusterfuck of scattered evidence across his wall. "Well then, guess we better grill 'em."

And that's how you come into the picture. When Nancy and Jonathan came to seek out Murray. And when they arrive, they're surprised to see you. They recognize you from school. Jonathan took several classes with you. In fact, the two of you got along well at Hawkins High. No, you weren't close. But you both were cool. Nancy, on the other hand, didn't know anything about you. Just that you took political science with Barbara, and got straight A's across the board. You could've been class valedictorian. But you were not looking for any sort of title that demanded pressure or attention. At least not in high school. Career wise? Sure. Not here, though. Not Hawkins. "Your timeline is wrong," Nancy is saying, making you and Bauman freeze.  Nancy is telling you that the girl with the buzzed hair is not Russian. She is, in fact, from Hawkins lab. And her name is...Eleven? So they do know something. And something turns out to be everything.

Jonathan sits you both down to relay everything to you both. And woof, does it give you guys a headache. Strangely, though... it makes a whole lot more sense than some mundane explanation of sorts. Obviously though, that puts you all in a tough spot where you'll all need to put your heads together. So the two classmates of yours stay, sharing in chilled Smirnoff and having to endure the hilarity that ensues between you and your uncle. You and Murray both banter well with the two of them. Jonathan finds you to be hilarious. Nancy finds you intimidating. Very intimidating. You’re quick witted, darkly humored and independent. But there is a reserved, mysterious sort of feminine energy to you, despite your more masculine strengths and bluntness. Over glasses of stiff vodka, you all come to the conclusion on how to go about exposing the truth about Barbara Holland's disappearance: water it down.

At the end of the night, you're all winding down -- you and your uncle having convinced the two lovebirds to stay. But when you're telling them they can take your uncle's guest room while you take the couch, Jonathan's asking if he can take the couch. You blink. Huh? ...surely Nancy is not still with --

"Okay, I'm confused," your uncle's saying. "What's going on here? Lovers quarrel?"

You cock an eyebrow, leaning back into the loveseat.

But Jonathan and Nancy are then talking over each other with weird, flustered excuses...saying they're just friends.

You and your uncle bust out laughing. And then you're shrinking back in your seat, knowing what's coming: one of your Uncle Murray's lovebird witchdoctor speeches that he barrels into anytime that two delusional people have convinced themselves that they aren't in love. Or at the very least, not into each other. 

Uncle Murray is breaking them down, one at a time. He's reading Jonathan like an angsty teen novel, seeing right through him and his brooding, mysterious energy.  Trust issues, thanks to daddy issues. Yikes, that makes you sip some more drink.

And then he's onto Nancy, saying that she's harder to read. But he manages anyway.  It's the Bauman way.

He's telling her that she's likely like everyone else, "afraid of what would happen if you accepted yourself for you who you really are." He looks at you. "Am I in the right ballpark?"

You nod, swallowing the last drop of vodka in your cup. "That...and afraid of that might happen if she didn't retreat back to the safety of someone familiar."

Nancy looks bewildered. But more than that, she looks caught. 

"Name?" your uncle is prodding, snapping his fingers.  "Name."

You and Jonathan both say it. "Steve."

Uncle Murray's face is priceless. He feigns adoration, putting on a baby voice as he repeats the name. "Dawh. Steve. We like Steve."

"Yes," Nancy laughs nervously.  Eek, you think.

"But we don't love Steve..." Your uncle's words floor Nancy.

And when Nancy's saying something about still being with Steve, insisting that she loves him, you roll your eyes. Even scoffing, getting her attention. Maybe if the vodka weren't in your system, you wouldn't be so bold. But Jonathan's mopey look just gives you more confidence.

"Boom, ladies and gents," you say with a grin. "Second lie of the evening." "The hell was the first one?" Jonathan asks, blinking. "You guys being just friends." You and your uncle say something along the same lines, simultaneously. You both laugh together, clinking glasses. The two not lovebirds just squirm awkwardly in their seats. Finally, you sigh. "Look. You guys don't wanna give up the ghost? Be my guest. I'll happily keep my bed." You stand up, ready to turn in. But not until casting them one last work, pointing a finger. "But if I were you two? I'd cut the bullshit and just share the damn bed." Murray snorts, rising to stand as well. He stretches. "Welllllp. I'm turning in for the night." You begin mounting the stairs, hollering: "Better act fast, kiddos. At least before this poison in my system knocks me out cold. Don't worry, Nancy, I don't snore. So if you do choose me, you're safe." "But that's so lame," Murray adds to that wryly, heading off to his room. You both tell each other goodnight, leaving the two angsty teens to decide their fate. All you know is that Nancy ends up walking out and not coming back, at one point in the night.  Yeah, thought so. Breakfast the next morning is even more hilarious. You and your uncle ask every single question that drips with innuendo that you ever possibly could. And it's worth every fucking minute.

Murray's gonna need to keep that couch cleaned. To your surprise, Murray sends you off with Nancy and Jonathan, but given that you want to go and see it all for yourself you don't mind. You’re basically his little spy.  Most uncles send off their nieces and nephews with some good advice, maybe a packed lunchbox or snacks, and a warm hug. 

Yours, however, sends you off with a full bottle of vodka, a thick wad of cash and some fun sarcastic banter. But he headlocks you in for a hug, and you cackle. He really is a nutcase, and man you can't help but love him. He is so not the parental type. Yet somehow, he's practically raised you. And in your opinion, you're pretty well-prepared for the world. More than most, in Murray's opinion. So off you go with Nancy Wheeler and Jonathan Buyers, and they both honestly enjoy your company. It helps them get past their umm...well...awkward new reality. That new reality that comes post-sex, after a long ass time of playing the tip-toe game. The sexual tension between them is hysterical to you. But you keep your thoughts to yourself for now. The vodka did most of the talking for you last night.

When you both arrive at wherever the hell your destination is, it's dark outside. And if you're being honest, it's pretty creepy. You're somewhere near the woods, and as you all walk closer you're beginning to see lights approaching you...along with a handful of shadowed figures. 

Fuck, you literally just got here.

But then, after a tense several moments... Nancy and Jonathan call out to them. You jump, startled at the fact that they do it so confidently. But the name that they call out suddenly makes it all make sense. "STEVE?" "NANCY...?" And that's how you became a crucial part of the most royal pain in the ass, King Steve's, life.

#steve harrington angst #steve harrington #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington stranger things #steve harrington smut

[jiyeonnnn]

BRAT TAMER, l. jn ⚝

pairing | l. jn x m!r

synopsis | after a whole day of teasing, jeno has taken matters into his own hands to shut you up.

cw | rough intercourse, mean dom jeno, discipline, degradation, bj & rimming (reader receiving), spanking, overstim, dumbification, stomach bulging, dacryphilia, cre*mpie

an | welp haha <3 enjoy the filth. reblogs and interactions are highly appreciated.

"what's wrong, my boy? weren't you just slutting yourself out for my attention?" moaning in jeno's grasp, you couldn't help but wonder, that maybe, just maybe, teasing him the whole day wasn't really your smartest move. as he locks down your heaving hips, his hand presses heavily across your stomach. his head was wedged between your quivering legs as jeno growled on your cock, his tongue tickling your leaky slit until it swelled.

you shoved back as the delicate pulses of his voice sang through your skin, "now that you've had it, you're backing away?", he murmured as you tried to move, however his grip on you remained firm.

"you should've given more attention to me earlier then," your gaze was scornful as it caught on with his. jeno chuckled while sucking gently on your cock, sniggering at your pinching utterance— however, your faint gasp from his actions only provided a boost in his pride as his grip tightened around your thigh, "have you seen how filthy your cock is? all swollen and leaking just from a simple touch? pathetic," you're a whimpering mess under his control; a ravaged and sweaty clusterfuck, yet he hasn't even given you his cock until now, "all this for me, huh?"

"hmm?" you questioned playfully as your boyfriend deepthroated your cock— making your hole feeling incredibly hollow; you needed him to stuff you full with his toys or perhaps even his dick, like he often does, "maybe~"  however, you're wanting to gauge how frustrated he could get. "fine then," he growled around your cock before passing his tongue along through your perineum to your fist-clenching hole. 

you attempted to arch your back high when you felt his thumb nudge around the sensitive head of your cock— more committed to keeping you down the bed as he started stimulating your sensitive tip. the pleasant sensation of his warm breath passes soft against your rim, and it's almost enough to make you cum immediately, "you wanted my attention, huh? you got it," he laps furiously at your hole, causing his words to be slurred, "brat." your mouth parted in a garbled moan of his name as he drove his tongue onto your prostate, prompting you to cum messily across your tummy.

heat crawled through your body as you watched him suck your cock clear of cum, shame obscuring your consciousness alongside the colorful haze of an orgasm. he withdrew while you shut your eyes, cleaning his lips using the palm of his hands as he lured your attention back at him by repeatedly tapping his cock across your hole, "hmmm? did you seriously think i'm done with you?" he chuckled at the modest shriek he caused while rubbing the dripping head of his cock between your ass cheeks, "yeah? rethink things then."

"b-but— i'm sensitive, sir~" you tried to protest only for him to land a sharp slap on your thighs. "mh~ my brat's sensitive? 'm guessing you're sore too, aren't you?" he swoons at your pitiful cry before spanking your dick while he spreads your legs wide open, resulting in your senses being set ablaze with a burning sensation as his large hand slaps your poor, sensitive cock again. 

you whimpered as your toes clench in pleasure upon feeling his lengthy finger knead the throbbing numbness around your tip before mercilessly paddling your sensitive hole "there, there, love~ daddy's helping you with that neediness." 

through your dazy eyes, you take a look at his bloodthirsty, sadistic smirk, "not so sensitive now, aren't you, brat?" his massive palms grabbed your chest and gave your nipples a light pinch as he pushed his cock inside you, all while grinning as he watched you writhe beneath him, "c'mon, sweets, cry for me. show me how much you want me,"

"coz i fuckin' know how obsessed— and delirious you are for this cock," you only could stammer nonsense with your eyes closed shut in fervent euphoria, striving to keep up by how his cock strained out your throbbing hole. jeno then grabs your jaw and squeezes your face with his left hand, "i can tell from how much this filthy hole of yours hugs my cock— how you feel around me—"

"so. fucking. beg. for. me." he ordered while slapping your face repeatedly with every word that came out of his mouth. you would if you still can, however the way that cock is stuffing you full has dulled your head. you could only whimper his name and faintly ask for more, intoxicated from the warmth of his length sliding luscious across the crevices of your insides.

he growls as he nearly altogether withdraws before plunging harder and deeper, observing your mouth hanging agape in total sinful bliss. he then spits a pleasant smear of spit into your mouth as he leans in nearer, "swallow that filth." his imperious voice was enough to send you obeying him in a matter of seconds, tightening your walls repeatedly at every thrust.

shortly, his hips were harshly banging with yours, the puffy leaking head of his shaft overtly hitting at your prostate, "wait-t! j-jeno! slow down, please, please, please!" a jitter forms inside your mouth as an unforeseen orgasm ignites from his incessant thrust. before you could even moan his name, he quickly pumped your cock, inserting his fingers inside your mouth while sternly adjusting you, "it's daddy to you, little brat."

your wrists were restrained by jeno's callused hands, his hasty fingernails digging deep into your thighs as he fucks roughly into you, "t-take it~ fucking take it like the good little boy you are, yeah?" he halted before plunging his cock deep within you again, so that you could feel how his cock perfectly slots into your puckered hole. his lips resounded with a loud grunt as he muttered, "so fuckin' tight, and's all for daddy, hm?" he grabbed you by your thighs harshly as he pulled you closer to him—putting your legs all over his shoulders so that he could breach into you deeper—if that is even possible.

you whimpered as a result of this, "t-too much, daddy— fuck! can't anymore!", but he only laughed like a mad man as a response. jeno quickens his thrusts more, overstimulating you throughout your climax and delivering yet one after another, "maybe you should stop slutting out next time, yeah? that way you'd get what you want," his gaze descended to rest on the bulge he's forming on your tummy, thrusting his hips hard into yours while sneering ominously and admiring the imprint of his cock underneath your flesh.

"j-jenO- ahh!" your arms soared to nudge on his chest, only for him to take your hand in his and press it harshly on your tummy, "notice that, pup? that's me inside you," he huffs, resting his sweaty head against your dripping one. "reshaping your guts," he presses your palm down heavily against your stomach until you can feel each and every motion of his cock inside you.

before you could even speak, jeno pressed his lips against yours— not allowing you to protest any further. you could taste the bittersweet taste of your own cum on his tongue as you moaned more in pleasure. as he pulls back from the kiss, three of his digits are pushed roughly into your salivating lips, "behave. now."

your lips subconsciously envelop his huge fingers as they strain heavily on your tongue, swirling the wet muscle as you take him deeper— but that's still wasn't enough to shut you up as a mangled whine was still able to escape your throat that angered jeno more, "perhaps you need a lot more than my fingers being forced into that wretched lips so you can quit bitching huh?" your irises dilated in eagerness as he cast an apathetic glare to your direction, "i said, behave."

"i don't believe i can nor will i," you didn't even recognize the translucent warm tears cascading down your face from all the intensified sensations he was foisting on you during your orgasms. "it's ok," he shifts his tongue to your chin, licking up the briny pearls of tears, "a dumb plaything like you should not have to use your brain much."

your pelvis faltered when your hole tightened around jeno, a thick liquid running over his cock as a profuse amount of precum leaked from him. "just follow what daddy has told you," he commanded as he wanted yet again another wave of orgasm from you. "so, continue and come for my cock, bitch." his hips rutted deeper.

"s-shit— you're making me leak so much— clenching like that on daddy's cock, huh?" you're convulsing beneath him— your cock spurting cum all disorderly everywhere as you struggle to contain squeals all while this climax has completely destroyed you. "do you want daddy to fill you up with his hot cum? yeah? does my boy want me to stuff him up with so much cum and make him a cumdump?" your nose pressed against one another as jeno rested his forehead on yours— panting heavily as he rolled his hips deeper, "'m gonna stuff you up 'til you're all stupid and bloated— that's what you love, yeah? dumb slut?"

as he expected, you could only nod your head like a dumb slut as a response; your mouth hanging agape, drool seeping through the sides of your mouth as you try to form coherent noises, only for you to fail miserably—much to jeno's delight.

his hand made its way to your neck, wrapping his fingers tight around your throat as he made you struggle even more, "can't understand you, love~ go on, tell daddy what you need," his gaze trailed the form of your visage as you twitched beneath him, frantically wanting to produce a coherent sentence, "what was that? daddy can't hear ya~"

"moan my name c'mon. don't be shy and scream the name of your daddy breeding you full. this is what you wanted, yeah? my focus on you, attention-seeking slut?" your frenzied blabbers are nothing more than just deluded whimpers to him as he paints your walls white with his cum. hissing as he thumps his heavy load deep into you, "fuck— wish you could see yourself right now— fucking stupid cumdump," the irony that you are unable to retort to his remark properly only makes him chuckle sadistically, "a filthy fucking cumslut— yeah, that's what you fucking are."

the sides of his mouth twist up in a vicious manner as he recognizes the slutty look on your eyes beneath him, "maybe you should act like a bitch more often; that way i get to fuck you precisely how I want it."

#kpop x male reader #kpop smut #nct smut #nct dream smut #nct x male reader #nct dream x male reader #nct x reader #nct dream x reader #nct dream jeno #nct jeno #jeno smut #jeno x male reader #jeno x reader #lee jeno smut #male reader #sub male reader #nct fanfic #kpop scenarios #kpop imagines #bottom male reader

[carolperkinsexgirlfriend]

Steddie Upside-Down AU Part 86

Part 1 Part 85

Eddie’s going to come out of this whole thing with a bald patch. He can’t stop pulling at the ends of his hair, feeling the sharp tug on his roots, the snap of the few hairs that can’t withstand the onslaught.

They’re all just sitting here, resting on their laurels like Steve isn’t slipping further away with every wasted second.  

There’s enough frenetic energy running through Eddie to make him want to get out of the van, pace the length of the Byers driveway like a tiger in a cage. But Steve’s bound and blindfolded in the van, and the thought of taking his eyes off what little he can see of Steve’s face makes bile rise in his throat.

There’s not much else for his stomach to dredge up. He can’t remember the last time any of them ate.

So, he sits on his heels. And he waits, feet going numb beneath the weight of his thighs.

This is all becoming horribly familiar. They’re even at the Byers house again, Eddie losing his mind by inches, Steve gone.

It’s not fair. Even through all of this, no one’s priority is ever Steve, first. Steve, only. Even when it should be. No one except Eddie. 

Will’s still curled into his side, looking up at Steve with that same desperate need, though. So maybe it’s not just him. They’re an island of three, always.

Eddie can live with that, will gladly subsist only to give these two his devout devotions. If Steve will just come back to them.

Eddie’s ready to scoop up Baby Byers in one arm, Steve in the other, and flee state lines if it means he gets to keep them.

Mama Byers likes him too much to let the kidnapping charges stick.

But Steve’s still gone, even as he sits placidly in front of them. So, he waits like a good boy. 

For Carol fucking Perkins of all people. It’s like the Upside-Down is determined to scoop up all his sworn enemies and drag them into the clusterfuck right alongside him. First Nancy, now Carol. What’s next? Billy fucking Hargrove? Where does it all end?

Eddie yanks his hair again, feels a few more hairs snap. He drops them on the floor of the van, mind spinning off into DNA, and fingerprints, and all the things the shady government spooks could pin on him with those few loose hairs.

He pulls out a few more.

Barb’s usually an annoyingly safe and slow driver, but she must have hauled ass because her tires are skidding into the driveway well before he would have expected her to be. She stops abruptly enough that gravel kicks up around her car, tires digging grooves into the dirt beneath it.

The kids tumble out of the backseat, dirty but intact. Eddie can’t help the way his eyes stray from Mike, to Lucas, to Max, to Dustin, cataloging each of the rips and smudges along their bodies, looking for scrapes and injuries underneath.

The knee of Mike’s jeans is suspiciously ripped and bloody, like he’d taken a tumble on cement, but everyone else looks fine.

When Carol slides out, she looks decidedly less fine. Her preppy outfit’s streaked with dirt and grim, her usual blow-out hair-do caked with something suspiciously dark and viscus. Most damningly, she’s got a baseball bat clutched in her manicured hand, ready to take a swing, and are those nails? Is that blood on them?

Whatever it is, it’s not human. It’s so dark, it’s almost black, even in the overcast light of the afternoon.

Barb’s less disheveled, but there’s a smudge of the black liquid on her glasses, like it’d splattered across her face, and she’d only partially cleaned it up.

It’s seeing it there, that makes it click. It’s the same color as the Demogorgon’s blood had been when it had been painted across Steve’s face that time they’d thought it was a good idea to trap one.  

Will jumps out, running up to Mike, and Dustin, and Lucus. It’s another reenactment of last year, the reunion just as fierce and life-affirming. Even if this time it’s only been a couple days since they last saw each other. Near death experiences will do that to a kid. Even Max gets pulled into the mess, arms around backs, heads tucked into shoulders.

Eddie barely sees it, too focused on Barb’s glasses, brain making connections between black blood, and Demogorgon’s and Demo-dogs, and the way the soldiers had screamed beneath the earth as they’d left them to die.

Eddie follows Will out of the van. He’s pulled into his own hug, Barb’s arms warm and shaking as they wrap around him. His hands hang down awkwardly, trapped by his sides by her hold. She drops him but stays huddled close.

“I’m never going to get used to this,” she sighs, eyes trained on the kids all surrounded together, all talking at the same time, clearly trying to fill in Will whose bemusement only grows on his face.

Eddie laughs, sharp and unhinged before he clamps his lips together to cut it off. “You don’t know the half of it,” he says. He can feel Steve in the van, still, wants to turn back and get him in his sights again.

Perkins steps in his path before he can. “Monsters, Munson?” she demands. Up close, Eddie can see the way her fingers are white around the baseball bat, the way the blood’s congealing around the rusted nails. Even at five foot nothing, she paints an imposing figure with that clutched in her hand. “You were all hiding fucking monsters?”

Eddie grimaces. “You told her?” he murmurs out of the corner of his mouth to Barb. 

Perkins rolls her eyes, clearly having heard him. “She kind of had to when those fucking things cornered us!” 

He’s getting really tired of so many of the things in his life having to be classified as ‘things.’ Still, he can picture their gaping maws, the way they’d open up like flowers in bloom just from the horror peeking out behind the indignation in Perkins face. This is going to upset Steve when he gets back.

“Why the hell were you even there?” Eddie demands, pointing a finger in her face. He drops it when the hand holding the bat shakes, bringing it closer to his hand.

“Blame that one!” she snarls, pointing at Dustin like he’s gum on the bottom of her shoe. “I could’ve gone my whole life without seeing one of those fucking whatever-dogs!” 

“Same,” Barb murmurs, shriveling up with disgust. 

Perkins doesn’t even look her way, but she still stands shoulder to shoulder, somehow made into a united front within a day. Eddie shouldn’t be surprised: the Upside-Down makes for surprising bedfellows. 

He’d done the same thing, trapped in a hell dimension with Steve Harrington of all people. Steve Harrington who’d made him laugh, and shared his bed, and saved his life. Steve Harrington who’s bleeding out of himself to make room for something else.

“Where is Steve anyway?” Perkins asks, like she could hear his train of thought. “He’s got a lot of explaining to do.”

Eddie can’t help the way his gaze darts toward Steve. It’s like asking someone not to look at a shooting star darting across the sky, or a lighthouse in a storm, or a compass pointing your way home. He can’t help it, and maybe Perkins can’t help the way she storms over to the van, either. 

“What the fuck?” she says, less a question than an exclamation of shock as she takes in Steve’s state.

Eddie knows what she’s seeing – her friend’s washed-out face, obscured by Wayne’s flannel, and Will’s headphones, tied tightly by every seatbelt Wayne could reach without moving Steve. He knows what conclusions she’s drawing in her twisted little head as she rushes into the van and knee walks over to her reported best friend.

Eddie’s “wait, no!” is drowned out by similar sentiments from Will and Wayne and Mama Byers. None of it makes a difference. It’s too late.

“Steve?” Perkins says, and there’s the sound of her bat thunking into the ground, and then an ominous rustling. Eddie doesn’t wait to see what happens next. He bolts to the van, Wayne right behind him. “Are you okay? What’s going on?”

She sounds desperate enough that Eddie can’t even blame her for what she’s done. But that doesn’t change the fact that Steve’s dull eyes are uncovered, and he’s looking past all of them, through the open door and out onto the street. The flannel and headphones are both discarded on the floor as Perkins clutches on Steve’s shoulders, shaking him like that will get him to meet her eyes. 

Steve’s been here dozens of times, sitting passenger side in Eddie’s van and drumming his fingers on the dashboard 

“Code fucking red!” Eddie calls, head shaking at the force of his yell. “They know where we are!”

Wayne sighs, long and heavy the way he does when he’s sinking into his armchair after a long shift. All the kids are shouting over each other, demanding answers to questions Eddie can’t even hear. Perkins is staring at him like he’s insane, but Barb’s drooping where she stands. She’s been in this long enough to know what a code red means, even if she’s lacking all the necessary context.

Wayne straightens, back cracking as he claps once to get everyone to shut up. “Kids in the house!” he calls, talking louder when the inevitable protests come from that corner of the driveway. “Now!”

Wayne doesn’t yell, ever. Hearing his voice raise, angry and loud, makes Eddie flinch back, shoulder hitting Perkins where she’s kneeling. It does the job, though. The kids scurry into the house while Wayne surveys the remaining group of four, eyes skipping over Steve’s blinking eyes. 

“You any good with that bat?” Wayne asks.

Perkins eyebrow is furrowed, but she opens her mouth to answer. Barb beats her to it. “I’m better.”

Wayne picks it up from the ground and hands it over to her. They all know by now that she knows better than to mislead them at a time like this. Barb clutches it between her hands, straight-backed and feet planted, like she’s ready to swing. 

“Joyce, go stay with the kids.” 

Mama Byers shuffles her feet, looking back at her house, but doesn’t leave. “Shouldn’t we stay together?”

“We can’t untie Harrington here,” Wayne replies. “And there’s no time to go somewhere else.”

As if to punctuate his point, there’s a familiar hungry growl, pettering off into a howl. The howl echoes off the walls of the sky, cutting in and out. Static. Reverb. The Upside-Down is calling and Eddie doesn’t want to pick up the phone.

Mama Byers runs, full tilt toward the house. Eddie hopes she makes it, can’t see her past the lip of the open door of the van. He hopes she’s got a gun in there, hopes she hands out butcher knives to too-small fingers and they all stand back-to-back-to-back. He hopes None of those things make it past Barb’s bat.

Wayne rushes to the glove compartment, limping on his bad hip with his haste as he digs around. He comes out with a gun, polished and sleek, and clearly one of the dead soldiers. Eddie hopes it’s loaded. 

He stands behind Barb, blocking the open door with his body, gun raised and pointing toward the staticky sound of dogs growling. 

“Close the door, Ed.” He doesn’t turn away from the threat, even as he says, “Love you.”

Eddie hiccups, something wretched and sharp boiling out of him. He wants to stand at his Uncle’s side, but his hands are fleshy and empty. Perkins is hyperventilating behind him and Steve’s not saying anything at all.

He closes the door.

He crouches in front of them both, blocking the closed door, ready to play a fleshy, second door should the first one fail. 

There’s the sound of a gunshot, the wet thwack of a nail-covered bat meeting malleable flesh, then glass shattering all around him.

He raises his hand and closes his eyes reflexively as it rains down onto his face, into his hair. Something cold and meaty lands on his lap. 

He opens his eyes.

It’s just like he imagined: paws and tail and hairless body. A petaled mouth that droops open, razor-sharp teeth glinting threateningly even in death. 

He pushes it off, scrambling back and away from the dead thing that still somehow looks like it wants to kill him, heedless of the broken glass making mincemeat of his palms.  

Eddie backs into Perkins, tries to keep crawling away until she grabs his shoulder, squeezes hard as she peers over his shoulder into the silence of the day. 

He can see Wayne, still standing, Barb at his side, gorey bat raised. Had they won? A bat and a gun, and they’d won?

But, then there’s a new face, peering up through the broken window. Her eyes are solemn, but she smiles when she meets his eyes, short curls atop her head bobbing as she waves at him.

“Supergirl?”

Part 87

Taglist: @deany-baby @estrellami-1 @altocumulustranslucidus @evillittleguy @carlprocastinator1000 @hallucinatedjosten @goodolefashionedloverboi @newtstabber @lunabyrd @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @manda-panda-monium @disrespectedgoatman @finntheehumaneater @ive-been-bamboozled @harringrieve @grimmfitzz @is-emily-real @dontstealmycake @angeldreamsoffanfic @a-couchpotato @5ammi90 @mac-attack19 @genderless-spoon @kas-eddie-munson @louismeds @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @pansexuality-activated @ellietheasexylibrarian @nebulainajar @mightbeasleep @neonfruitbowl @beth--b @silenzioperso @best-selling-show @v3lv3tf0x @bookworm0690 @paintsplatteredandimperfect @wonderland-girl143-blog @nerdsconquerall @sharingisntkaren @canmargesimpson @bananahoneycomb

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie upsidedown au #will byers #my fic

[justpoliteconversations]

To Obtain [Yandere!Four x Isekai!Reader]

Teamwork is the purpose of the pack. But a hive is a thing of purpose.

Second part of the yandere series. This one is quite a bit spicier than my usual fair, so be warned. Also, it's longer because it has four (five) yanderes packed in there.

(Going to edit later. I'm too tired now to do it.)

Masterlist

Set-up: Comfort [Yandere!Chain + Isekai!Reader]

Sky Route

Four Route

TW: Choosing not to disclose. Read at your own discretion.

Disclaimer: Don't own The Legend of Zelda franchise. Linked Universe is the fan creation of jojo56830.

---

After that night (that wretched, nightmarish night), things had gone from uncomfortably tense to downright confusing very quickly. Especially where Four was concerned (or rather, where the damned Colors were concerned).

Red, for one, had become relentless in his pursuit of your company (a shy touch on the back of your hand. fingers brushing against yours. big, doughy eyes of glittering firelight pinning you from across the camp with their intensity). Going so far as to risk conflict (terrifying, bloody conflict. so vicious Green and Time had had to step in and physically separate them) between Blue and Twilight as he'd whined and pleaded for your attention. Leaning into your space, red-pink eyes watery, ears pinned back against his skull. Pressing his red splotched face and (deceptively strong) hands into any part of you he could reach (that Twilight allowed him to reach. tense as the wolf bastard was for reasons lost on you).

Blue would be following close behind Red (as always), the air around him sparking with purpose as he put himself squarely in Twilight's territory (too close to Wild. and most certainly too close to you). Steely blue eyes scanning, assessing, before narrowing in on Twilight and staying there unwaveringly (actively provoking. so unlike his usual reactionary aggression). The twist of his thin lips firm and brimming with determination. For what, you weren't sure, but it set you on edge regardless, as though every one of your instincts were telling you to run (run, run, run, run, run-).

Vio was as distant as he always was (planning or unbothered you couldn't be sure), but you swore you could sometimes feel his sharp, calculated glance upon you (so sharp it felt like a scalpel grazing along vulnerable nerves. slowly peeling back your prickled skin with blood-chilling precision. distinctively Four. wholly Vio. entirely unwelcome). Whether you were sitting next to the fire, entertaining Wind or helping Wild tame his tangle of bed head, they always seemed to find you (even when you couldn't see. especially when you couldn't see).

Green was an enigma in his entirely. Rarely did he seem to play you much mind, and yet he seemed to be in your space more and more these days (even moreso than Red, and that's a truly anxiety inducing thought). Seated next to you at dinner time (how did he manage to get past Twilight? Wild? how did it become just the two of you, with and yet separate from the group?), walking close to you when the group traveled (how'd he get passed Hyrule? clingy and overbearing as he was?). And yet he never actively engaged you besides a slight smile or a brief glance in your direction (confusing. ringing wrong, wrong, wrong in the back of your mind).

Only Four seemed to have remained relatively unchanged. Still as polite and courteous with you as he's always been. Occasionally he got a little bossy (especially where equipment maintenance was concerned), but it was nothing unusual for the small smith and Wild got it even worse than you. So, you weren't overly concerned with him. Four was fine. He was lovely, in fact (a breath of fresh fucking air compared to the clusterfuck that was everyone else's crazy asses). It was just those damned Colors of his.

You'd like nothing more than to tell Four about how strange they've been acting, but in the end you didn't. There was no point honestly. For all they (Four and the Colors) seemed to share a common body, Four wasn't there when things got strange. There wasn't anything he could do when he didn't even exist at the same time they did. So why would you put that stress on the one guy who seemed to have his shit together? When he couldn't even do anything about it?

Because surely he wouldn't have allowed these types of behaviors to continue as they had if he had control of them. Not Blue's aggression. Not Vio's cruel disregard. Not Red's smothering. Not even Green's awkward insertion into your life. They just weren't him. They weren't Four.

(Or maybe you just didn't want to think about it. didn't want to contemplate what it meant if Four knew and did nothing at all.)

And loath as you were to admit it (no matter how much it hurt your pride. or put your teeth on edge. or tensed the muscles in your throat and jaw), Twilight wouldn't let anyone (let alone a bunch of psychopathic Four copies) do anything unsavory to you. As much as you wanted to hate him, Twilight really was your shield against the craziness that was the rest of the chain (except for Sky. damned Sky who had killed people and whimpered like a damned victim when he didn't get his way).

So. You kept quiet. You endured Red's whimpering and Blue's aggression and even Green's passive presence creeping into nearly every part of your life. You endured and let Twilight run them off when they got handsy or too overwhelming to bare. You endured and breathed a quiet sigh of relief when you opened your eyes and saw the patchwork of colors on Four's vest. You endured and just ignored it.

And then. It happened. On a night like any other night (it should have been like any other night).

(How could this have happened? why was this allowed to happen. please. please don't let this happen. Twilight. Twilight, please.)

Blue had gotten into your (into Twilight's) space. Quiet and tense and far too intense to be anything but a provoking gesture. Nearly trapping you between himself and Red (where was Wild? he should have been behind you), so close you could feel the heat of his hip and waist as it brushed up against you (Wild was with Green. he was showing him something shiny. some kind of mineral. wrong, wrong, wrong. Green never paid attention to Wild. not like Red did. Green didn't put himself out there like that. not without a reason).

You had immediately locked eyes with Twilight, silently pleading with him to make them back off. Because Red was so, so much already. You couldn't deal with Blue too. And something was wrong. Something felt different about them tonight (why was Red gripping your hand like that? his eyes weren't even on you. they were on Blue, the red of them so intense they glowed like wildfire).

And Twilight had answered. Because he always did. No matter what, he always came to your defense when things got tense.

Blue had squared up with him, eyes glinting steely blue beneath the determined set of his brows (something was different), nearly black with their intensity. Green was making his way over even as Twilight stood to full height to face Blue. Perhaps to talk him down. Maybe to physically drag Blue away as Green had done in the past (something was different. where was Wild? he wasn't where he was supposed to be).

(Where did Green send Wild off to, something whispered quietly in your mind. your heart racing. your gut screaming for you to run, run, run-)

Red was standing suddenly (no. it can't be. this isn't happening). And just like that, Twilight paused, staring down two Colors where once there was only one.

And then Green stepped right up behind Blue, a calm smile on his lips. And drew his sword.

"Sorry, Twilight." Green said smoothly, sounding so damned genuinely apologetic as he continued (as the sound of two other swords being drawn echoed through the tense, still, quiet clearing). "But Four's tired of waiting. And honestly, so are we. You understand how this works."

Twilight's lips pulled back into a grimace and suddenly you understood. Because how could you have not seen it when it had been right there all along (staring you right in the face. red, hearth warm eyes drowning in their obsession. sharp blue tracking you with quiet intensity). How could you have not thought of this outcome (how could you have missed Twilight's unease. he was rarely tense around the others. not even when Hyrule or Legend or Wind or even fucking Wars got close. how did you not notice how determined he'd been to keep the Colors at a distance?).

How could you have not noticed how outnumbered Twilight was all this time? Just watching as a larger, more well coordinated pack closed in from all sides, eyeing him at their leisure, taking his measure (finding his weaknesses). He'd been on the defensive from the beginning (like a cornered animal. like a lone wolf).

And they'd found those weaknesses. Patient. Cunning. Perfectly in sync. With the ability to come from all angles at once. A pack primed for the killing blow.

Wild was gone (Green had done that. he'd gotten Twilight alone). Time was keeping his distance, merely watching with quiet exasperation (Vio at his side. knowing lavender-blue gaze set on Time's face with unsettling ease, the slightest slip of a smile at the corner of his lips. smug).

(Checkmate. This was his checkmate, wasn't it? His victory. And you never even noticed the plays being made right. in. front. of. you.)

One nod from Time and Twilight sighed, running a rough hand through his dark hair, letting the tension in his shoulders lessen.

And then he moved away, casting an apologetic, reassuring smile your way. Sorry that you had been taken from his care, but not concerned enough to truly fight for you. Not when Time was allowing this to happen. Not when he was backed up against the wall (not when he wasn't actually losing anything but another body to tuck in when Wild finally settled enough to sleep).

And just like that you belonged to Four. And the Colors. And no one was even concerned by this (no one cared. no one saw anything wrong with this. they thought this was acceptable behavior. that this was okay when it wasn't. it really, really wasn't).

Twilight was gone (off to track down Wild), and everyone else went back to doing their nightly routines. And you were suddenly alone between Blue and Red, standing in the middle of it all feeling numb and chilled to your very bones.

In that moment, you were more alone than you'd ever been before (had you ever actually not been alone all this time? when no one else seemed to understand just how frightened you were? when they all just assumed you were going to be taken care of no matter who had you and therefore everything was okay).

So dazed were you by the turn of events, you didn't even notice the flicker of blue in your vision before the air was stolen from your lungs. A hand (calloused, shaking with excitement and forceful) balled into your shirt, pulling you down with overwhelming strength. Another gripping into your hair as warm, dry lips pressed harshly (savagely) against yours with ravenous hunger.

You froze at the contact, body tensing and mind going blank in panic as the hand gripping into your hair twisted. Forcibly turning your head for a better angle as something wet brushed against your lips softly (surprisingly gentle for the roughness of everything else).

You hadn't even the time to put your hands up and fight back before the man kissing you was ripped away, the hand still tangled in your hair tugging harshly before it (finally. mercifully) let go.

Freed, you gasped in fresh, life-giving (mind clearing) air. Your lips tingling and warm while the back of your head ached from the sudden punishing pulling it'd had to endure. Gentle, supporting hands were on you then, reeling you in close to lean against a warm, unmoving body.

"The fuck Green!" Blue hissed, lips and cheeks flushed red but his eyes brimming with livid rage. "Why'd you do that?"

Green leveled him with a neutral smile, holding your shaking form a bit closer as he said, firmly. "They're scared, Blue. You're moving too fast."

Blue huffed up, looking murderous and ready to fight. Until Red put a hand on his arm and said earnestly. "You're really scary sometimes, you know! You should be more gentle with them the first time!"

That made Blue pause, and after he finally looked at you (at you. not towards you or for you. but actually at you) and realized that you were shaking and gasping against Green's side, he averted his gaze. Face flushed and expression twisted into quiet anger (at himself. for getting ahead of himself. and for forgetting that for all they knew you, you didn't yet know them).

"Whatever." He mumbled, turning away. "I'm setting up the beds." Then he snapped. "They're sleeping closest to me! Come on, Red!"

Red hesitated, but one hard glare from Blue got him moving. "Coming!" Then he smiled at you, warm and sweet and brimming with excitement. "Don't be scared, kay? We're going to protect you now!" And then he ran to Blue, and they began setting up their sleeping area (five places, not four. and the thought made you shiver).

The hand supporting you rubbed tenderly against your side. "It'll be okay." Green told you reassuringly, his thumb pressing circles into your skin as he side hugged you gently. "They just need time to calm down."

(No. it won't be okay. this is wrong. this is so wrong.)

Later that night, with Blue sleeping at your feet and Red spooned in from behind (still awake. his heart thundering against your back in excitement. legs intertwined with yours and his hands tucked into the dips of your hips like vices), giggling and shaking like a damned small dog with pent-up energy. You lay awake, quiet and hoping Red would just go to sleep soon so you didn't have to hear his whispered 'love you's and 'so perfect's and 'I can't wait. I'm so excited's.

You watched the campfire burning in the distance to distract yourself from the circles his thumbs were rubbing into your hips. Far away. Away from Twilight or Wild (who was still awake and pissy after he'd found out what happened) and anyone else who might (might) have helped you if Red decided to continue where Blue left off (the thought made you want to curl up and disappear).

You closed your eyes and held back a sob as you remembered Vio's words (upset that such things would have ever had to be said to you. upset that they comforted you regardless).

After Green had left to go soothe things over with Twilight (and Wild), Vio had sat down beside you (as you both watched Red and Blue fight over sleeping arrangements) and begun talking. And God, how you wish he hadn't (you were thankful he did).

"They won't do more than touch you. Just hit them if they go too far. Despite his temperament, Blue will not strike you." He'd said coolly, not even taking his eyes off his brothers as they devolved into a brawl right over the spread of bedrolls. Red doing surprising well in pinning Blue down by the back of his tunic.

You wanted to yell at him that they shouldn't be touching you at all. That you didn't want to have to deal with this. You didn't though, because you knew (with heartbreaking, blood-chilling certainty) that it wouldn't change a damned thing. You didn't have a voice before, and you most certainly didn't now. Especially not with four others there to overpower your pitiful whispers and pleading screams (outnumbered and cornered, you wanted to giggle. though not the happy kind. not the sane kind).

His hand was on yours, fingers curling gently around your fist (what need have he to use force against trapped prey? why assert dominance when you were already completely under his power). "Four will be here tomorrow. When you wake, he will allow you to set boundaries." His cool, lavender-blue eyes flickered to yours. "Within reason."

You couldn't meet his eyes any longer as you asked, submissive and withdrawn. "How do you know?"

Vio blinked, face blank and eyes dispassionate as he asked. "Are you afraid of who you become when you dream?" You didn't get to answer when he continued, his hand (softer than Blue's, thinner than Green's, cooler than Red's) tightening on yours. "We know because it's what we want. Four is us, and we are Four. There is no one without the others."

Ice ran down the length of your spine. Your heart quivered. All the pieces falling into place right before your eyes.

"Speak to Four when he awakens. We will hear you with every part of us then." He said simply. And then he continued, more quietly. "Do not be afraid. He will protect you, from even himself if he must. As he always has."

Then he leaned in, his lips nearly brushing against your ear as he whispered. "He is our conscience, after all."

And suddenly. You understood. It all made sense now. The feeling of wrongness. The unease. The fear.

Four was their soul. Their shared center. Their conscience. And the longer they stayed separated, the further they strayed from his guiding inner voice.

They really were a group of psychos. Truly. And now, they owned you. And they could do anything they wanted to you. And the only thing keeping them from ripping you apart was the imprint of Four's will.

Red giggled again, one hand slipping up just the slightest bit until his fingers brushed the delicate skin of your waist. He quietly gasped at the feeling, shaking with repressed desire. Pressing his face into your neck, his mouth opening slightly before it snapped back closed with a muted click.

You closed your eyes and prayed for morning to come sooner. For Four to look up from polishing his tools and give you a small, tired smile. The sunlight shinning off his beautifully gold-spun hair like a rolling field of wheat. His eyes warm and sweet with fondness.

'Good morning.' He'll say, and you'll reply in kind. Relieved and grateful and safe (and you won't think about what Green said. you won't think about the implications. you just won't think about any of it).

You'll wake up tomorrow and Four will be there. Steady and reliable and helpful. Calm and collected and kind. Sweet and respectful and understanding. You'll tell him everything this time. You'll be completely honest (no you won't), and he'll make it right.

Because Four is reasonable. Because he'll protect you from even himself. Because he's a good person (because he won).

(And if you keep saying it enough. Maybe one day you'll actually fucking believe that load of bullshit. Except, you really, really won't. Not now, not ever.)

Because he loves you.

---

Back to the shadows.

#linked universe #linked universe x reader #yandere linked universe x reader #yandere linked universe #yandere four

[hogwartslegacypics]

The Mystery of Ominis Gaunt’s Wand

I was going to make a post analyzing his wand just like I did for Sebastian, but I’m having difficulties because I have no idea which wand is actually his.

The 1st wand it could be is the black one. When you Google search “Ominis Gaunt wand” a black one will show up. It’s so accepted as fact that there are even independent sellers selling the wand and advertising it as Ominis’s wand. But I don’t know if it is because it’s also Rookwood’s wand, which is very strange because no other wand in the game is assigned to two different people (there are some similar ones, but the developers at least changed the colors), and after multiple playthroughs I’ve never seen Ominis with this wand even once. Rookwood however is seen with this wand in cutscenes. Is this wand Rookwood’s alone and somehow has been attributed to Ominis as well?

I’ve followed Ominis around and tried a few quests he’s in to see if he’d get this wand out but he never did. He only carries a dark brown wand around. There’s also only one single cutscene in the entire game (unless I’m missing something) where Ominis has a wand out, and it’s not the black one. It’s not even the dark brown wand he carries around. It’s a light brown one. He does seem to be holding this wand in merch, but Sebastian doesn’t even have his right wand in his merch so I don’t know how much stake we should be putting into it. I feel like the merch might be early renders (like they use for pictures of them in game), and maybe this was gonna be his wand but they changed it to Rookwood’s because they didn’t want to make a new one for him and realized Ominis isn’t even in any cutscenes with his wand (besides that one in Potions class we barely see it in). I have no idea, just speculating.

The second wand it could be is the light brown one I just mentioned that we see him holding in the cutscene. I think this one is the most likely it due to the fact it’s the only time we see him holding a wand in a cutscene. None of the characters carry their actual wands around the castle (I like to call it in “NPC mode”), they carry default wands. Same thing for combat. Characters only have their customized wands during cutscenes, so wouldn’t this one technically be his? Strangely enough though, Ominis does have his own “NPC mode” wand, whereas the other NPCs all have one of two (a black one or a light brown one). I’m guessing this is because Ominis’ walking animation is unique to his NPC. So when they were designing his animations they gave him a different NPC wand, like that specific wand is coded specifically for his “NPC mode” animations.

The third wand it could be is the one I mentioned in the previous paragraph, his “NPC mode” one. I don’t think this is the case though since, even though it’s only used once, he does have a wand assigned to him for cutscenes. If he didn’t have his wand out for any cutscenes though, then he’d be like the other NPCs who either don’t get their wand out in cutscenes or who aren’t in cutscenes at all, because he wouldn’t have an actual personal wand assigned to him, only the default “NPC mode” wand. But anyways even if this was the case, his “NPC mode” wand is still unique to him.

In conclusion, this is a clusterfuck. Ominis has multiple wands? Which wand do I analyze? I know the black one is most popularly accepted as his, but can someone tell me how I can get him to hold it in game? Why is that one so broadly considered his wand if he never even holds it? Am I missing something? Y’all please help me out lmfao

I guess I’ll just base my post off of how I interpret his character in regard to wand information, and not based on the actual wand itself since I don’t know which one to use.

#i already wrote the whole post up based off of the black wand and then when i went in game to take pics of his wand i was sooo confused #i figured he wouldn’t carry it around since none of the characters carry around their custom wand #but i thought i’d at least be able to find it during a specific quest or something #but nope #i have so many save files and i tried so many of them #i did see one screenshot of him holding the black wand but i think it might be a mod that person used? #THIS IS A SCOOBY MYSTERY #hogwarts legacy #ominis gaunt

[fizzingwizard]

Why I like Cats (the musical) 2024 version

Cats the Musical's smash success in the 80s stunned everyone, including those who made it. But despite the critics claiming it's baffling and has no plot, it was popular anyway. And remained popular. For years.

"But why?" shriek the naysayers even now, decades later, in broad daylight, because they've never met a real Cats fan, and frankly don't believe they exist, and the massive audiences of yore which attended the shows in London, New York, Tokyo etc were paid actors contributing to the farce that is Cats the Musical. Or maybe they assume every furry dutifully attends every performance of Cats as some kind of furry confirmation ritual.

Now that we've seen the Hooperian nightmare that is Cats 2019, internationally recognized as a pre-pandemic harbinger of doom and torment, making fun of Cats is more fun than ever.

But no pedantic Youtube critic will ever pry Cats (THE MUSICAL) out of my fierce, feline clutches! No! I won't let you! Not even you, Tom Hooper! You don't need opposable thumbs to be irrationally devoted to old-ass musicals from the 80s!

Anyway here's why I like Cats (the musical)!

Wicked whimsical fun times!!

Cats is the fun uncle at the family New Year's party. He's young, he's confusingly hot-yet-not, he gets around, he always smells faintly of weed. He's down for anything and somehow gives off chill vibes while also exuding the barely restrained energy of an ostrich mating dance. He doesn't have a job. No one knows what he does on a regular, non-party day. Maybe he just... ceases to exist. You like him, without knowing or caring whether there's anything about him to like.

A celebration of dance!!

Tap, jazz modern ballet, gymnastics! There's even a trapeze! Cats has it all... as long as it was popular among white audiences in the 80s, anyway. Attempts to diversify have been hit and miss. But since many of the dance styles have fallen out of popularity, it's refreshing, in a way, to go to a Cats show and see a guy in an orange unitard tap dancing passionately. Like teleporting into a bygone age of the catpeople. Heck, even in the clusterfuck that was the 2019 movie, Skimbleshanks stole the show.

Jokes aside, the loose story structure isn't just because no one on staff knew how to plot anything, it highlights the performances themselves: dance and music are central to Cats, which is part of why making a film version is so damn hard. You can't just say no thanks to the choreography or interrupt the songs for dumb bratty quips (Hooper!!). That's what this musical is.

Yes, they are cats, and it's cool, not freaky. (But also freaky)

The costumes and makeup are for a stage show. They're overdone on purpose to have an impact from far away. It's due to that distance that the actors can seem pleasantly cat-like without appearing like they're doing this under hypnosis. That's another reason why translating Cats to a live action movie is kinda doomed to fail. With movies you're too up close. Welcome to the Uncanny Valley, hope you survive your stay!

The costumes are also very 80s. They have changed... but not all that much. If you know glam metal and punk rock then you probably cotton on to the references and why a lot of the old pictures look like a hair band's photo shoots. Young fans may not be aware of those roots and just accept the wigs and the color schemes and the setting as a whim. But the truth is undeniable. The 80s live on!

Much of the dance is choreographed to reflect feline, seemless movement. The actors spend their down time on stage mimicking relaxed cat behaviors, including the cute and clumsy ones that made Youtube rich. But they don't forget that they are actually humans any more than the audience does, or that getting too into it would be pretty weird. How well it works for you probably has a lot to do with whether or not you like Cats the musical. It's not supposed to be realistic or freaky. Just evocative and atmospheric.

Except the orgy. That simply Is. Sex through ballet. In unitards.

The stage!

The stage is a huge draw for seeing Cats live. There's so much detail and fun things to spot. It's a junkyard! Cats pop out of the strangest places! Honestly it's so impressive that it makes the way Old Deut magically reappears under a blanket rather more noticeably lackluster... (I did really enjoy the way the Broadway revival revamped that bit with the dark and the hand-held light dance)

You've seen it once, you've seen it twice, you still haven't seen it

The legend of Cats is that no two performances are the same. You can go to the same theater with the same cast night after night and spot subtle changes. Because the characters aren't that important overall, there aren't real relationships to interrupt by letting someone be friends with someone else in one show, and ignore each other in another. The most fun comes with watching the actors not currently center stage, who can do whatever they want. They're always moving, darting here and there, interacting with each other in an unobstrusive way. It's like a treasure hunt to work out whch cats are friends, which are rivals, who has a crush on who, heck, who's a grown cat and who's still a kitten, depending on the performance. I love this pliable approach, it gives the play a sense of living and changing.

Electric guitar!!!

Like, it's par for the course these days. Nothing unusual. Even so, I always lose my shit at that electric guitar!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

There IS a story!! There is!!

It's just not the most important part. Or even the second most important. Possibly not even the third most... yeah.

One thing worth noting is that the vibe of the musical has changed a lot of over the years. Most versions in the US and UK still retain some of the original grungy, gritty, patchwork aesthetic. A lot of it has been cleaned up and polished. The Japanese version (the only non-English version I've seen live) is almost like a Disney story imo. But thanks to the costumes, characters, and stage setting, it feels less like the 80s have gone than the 80s have been reinterpreted into modern preferences. I really enjoyed the 2016 Broadway revival for example, although I know some fans didn't.

All that to say the story which we fans have more or less pieced together ourselves has evolved over the years, and isn't super official. But it is regular. Hooper's movie doesn't get credit for giving Cats a plot, it already had one, just told in a not especially coherent way. That incoherence, despite being panned by everyone and especially their dog, I think is one of the best parts of Cats. You get to leave the show feeling like you missed nothing, then see it again and notice something new, and then leave feeling like you missed nothing. Rinse and repeat. The perfect show =)

Now about that plot.

The Jellicle Cats assemble once a year to have an orgy a ball. They're so happy to see each other and they just have so much to catch up, plus the kittens only opened their eyes like last week so they need a whole run-down of who all these older guys are. We meet the maternal cat, the storyteller cat, the railway cat, the twin thief cats, the excitable cat, the magical cat, the Jagger cat. They're all kind of sort of in competition to win a new life (cats have nine you know) by being chosen to go to the Heavyside Layer. Not that they compete - they all just want, vaguely, with a sort of existential soul-deep yearning for something too ineffable to define. This contrast of the transient with the permanent, the fleeting with the eternal, is introduced early in the show, when the cats tell us they have two names: a name they're called by on a daily basis, and a secret name that is wholly and uniquely their own. These themes continue throughout scenes of the actors grooming each other's fur and panting in bisexual lust due to sexy Tugger's sexy hip thrusts. It's deep bro. Gets me right here, bro.

Meanwhile there's an outcast called Macavity who is Bad, but most of the sightings of him are false alarms. He doesn't show up properly till near the end of the second act and there's a whole cat fight, it's awesome, I love picking out which cats stay to fight and which run away. He abducts Old Deut, the patriarch, and the only chance the cats have to get him back is Mister Mistoffelees, who depending on the performance is kind of clumsy and insecure, or really effing amazeballs at magic. I prefer the first because it makes more sense why Rum Tum Tugger sings his song for him (old versions have Mister Mistoffelees singing at least part of his song). Then Old Deut's back and now it's time for the Heavyside Layer!

Meanwhile meanwhile, there's Grizabella, who is haunting the Jellicle Ball with much more tangible yearning. She's washed up, a has-been. She can't dance anymore. No one trusts her. Why? Idk, people are just like that. The other cats fear Macavity, who represents destruction and chaos, but they look down on Grizabella, who is failure and regret and mortality. For whom all the broken dreams could be forgotten if she could join just one more dance. Defeating Macavity isn't the Jellicles ultimate test - accepting Grizabella is.

ETA: I feel like I didn't quite get across why this is so important. The show spends so much time building up our dread of Macavity, but sightings of Grizabella leave us feeling wrong-footed and uncomfortable. And the reason is: Macavity is destruction, but Grizabella is destroyed. A grizzled beauty - someone with no more life left in them. She's a vision of a grim future which the Jellicles want to reject. She's been made small and weak and pathetic. So they blame her for her situation, because then they can go on with their ball without all that discomfort. And they don't just decide to redeem her in the end - first, Grizabella has to sing "Memory." Grizabella needs to tell the Jellicles "There was a time before I experienced destruction too, when I didn't know how happy I was." The only thing which keeps that spark in her alive is the memory of it, and it's that which makes her the chosen candidate to go the Heavyside Layer. A threat like Macavity, while very scary, is mortal and temporary. But Grizabella's ability to look back on her life and find the happiness in it, and reach out to the others while on death's door, despite the risk of harsh rejection, speaks to something eternal. And the Jellicles have a choice whether they will show acceptance for that full course of life.

Then up she goes via the Stairway to Heaven and who knows what happens to her after that. Idgaf really, ask the Everlasting Cat. And then we sing a song about how great cats are because it's true. I mean come on. Shakespeare would write this.

Um wait up... plot holes???

Wait - why did Macavity kidnap Old Deut in the first place though? This is pretty unexplored backstory. Generally fans assume Macavity torments the Jellicles on the regular, and that he did something to Demeter in the past, which is why she's often depicted as the most skittish when he's mentioned. He's a bad egg - his song details enough - and also he's got his paws in the community, thanks to Griddlebone and Mungojerrie.

OK, so not knowing what his motivation is, as well as not knowing why Mungojerrie, who is fairly lovable despite being a thief, is involved with him, is kind of a big plot hole. It'd be nice to know that right? It'd be nice to know what happened to Grizabella - did she leave the Jellicles by choice, did she shun and reject them before she went off on her own? What did these characters do leading up to the events of the show?

This is what defines the True Cats Fan. The True Cats Fan not only doesn't know the official answers to these questions (there aren't any, shut up Hooper), but PREFERS them that way. Number one, it turns the show into a single evening suspended in time. We are voyeurs - guests come to witness the holy day of the catpeople. We are foreigners. We don't understand everything we see because we are not one of them. "What's a Jellicle Cat?" The cats are stunned that we don't know, but can't explain it to us in full either. A Jellicle Cat doesn't need it explain. They always know. So the story is what it is, you know what you know, and what you don't, well, it's not inconsequential, but it is for tomorrow. And tomorrow isn't today, that's the thing.

Number two is that the True Cats Fan doesn't want these questions answered because... we'd rather answer them ourselves!

LAST. The fan lore rocks!

Cats is just so much fun to fan girl in. Because the canon is so whatever, we can come up with our own ideas about backstory and relationships, and when we go to the next show, it's gleeful fun to see what elements of pure director's whim support our fan theories. If you're not interested in headcanons or fan theories you can leave now, here's your certificate, now you know what Cats fans love about the musical Cats. If you're a true freak, read on!

A lot of these are influenced by the 1998 DVD because that was the most accessible way to watch Cats (the musical). But the best ones have roots in any show canon, or extrapolate from like, a single lyric. Making sense of the nonsense without committing to getting rid of the nonsense, because we love nonsense. Also these DON'T all go together, they are independent headcanons, otherwise some of them would be really Not Good hahaha.

OK, so Old Deut is everyone'd dad. BUT, he's particularly dad of Munkustrap, Macavity, and Rum Tum Tugger. Sometimes in that order, sometimes not. This is hilarious to me. I love the idea that Munk and Tugger are brothers and that's why they drive each other batty. And who doesn't love a secret third brother who is als evil, or prodigal son who kidnaps his own father?

Demeter was Macavity's girlfriend before he got kicked out, or sometimes she went with him and came back once she realized he lost his marbles. She's been traumatized by him and that trauma is even choreographed or her. There's behind the scenes video, I think it's from the 1998 DVD, where they explain that, so it's rather more than a theory. She often has a role in the fight scene - an actual fighting role, rather than a cowering one. Now Demeter is Munkustrap's mate, which, if you accept the "Munkustrap/Tugger/Macavity are brothers" theory, makes for all kinds of juicy drama.

Victoria is Plato's girlfriend. Victoria is Mistoffelees's sister. Victoria is Mistoffelees's girlfriend. Victoria is Munkustrap's girlfriend??? Take your pick lol.

Victoria can't speak and/or is deaf and that's why she communicates through dancing.

Demeter and Bombalurina are sisters

Sillabub/Jemima is Munkustrap's daughter (ok...).

Munkustrap is the Jellicle leader of sorts. Old Deut is the real leader, but he's old y'know. And Munkustrap is kinda sorta his son. But Munk doesn't do a lot of leaderly things. He disciplines sometimes and controls the kittens, and he fights in the battle scene. But mostly he sings songs and tells stories. So there's a headcanon that Munk has reservations about being Old Deut's successor and wishes he could just tell stories all the time. So wholesome...

Rum Tum Tugger is a bi disaster and Mister Mistoffelees is his twink boyfriend. Gay cats, they're gay, it's theater, it's a show about cats with a cat orgy, did you really expect different? Now although I make fun I am into it. Tugger, brash and vain yet insecure, and Mistoffelees, insecure with inner pride. In some shows older cats like Skimbleshanks and Gus will be shown trying to lead Mistoffelees away from Rum Tum Tugger during his song, as if concerned by their promising, talented young friend's interest in the local Bad Boy. Mistoffelees's real talent humbles Tugger, and Tugger's audaciousness enables Mistoffelees to take risks. Thus the day is saved! Tugger and Mistoffelees weren't always a set on stage - it could be Mistoffelees and Munkustrap as the two leads, or why Tugger sings Mistoffelees's song would just go without explanation. But these days it's a popular enough duo that it's become fairly regular. And the 2016 actors put Tugger/Misto fan art on the wall in their dressing room therefore it is Canon.

Skimbleshanks and Jennyanydots are a couple, inspired by the way he teases her during the Gumbie Cat song

Skimbleshanks is a DILF

Grizabella was Old Deut's girlfriend x'D or is Macavity's mother or something. Personally I don't need this theory lol we've already got enough overlapping relationships to write twelve soap operas so.

Cats with collars are house cats, cats without are strays. Not super reliable but fun to think about.

Some cats aren't named, or have different names depending on the country or decade. These cats can have some really, really dedicated fans whose personal headcanons about these completely undeveloped characters are ironclad.

Asparagus and Gus are father and son. This is to explain why the actor who plays Asparagus is always around, and called Gus/Asparagus, and then for Theater Cat and Growltiger he seems much older but is still called Gus. It's the same actor in slightly different costumes but fans just pretend there's two characters to explain it.

Same thing with Admetus/Plato, who doubles as Macavity in the 1998 DVD, and in many stage performances as well. Macavity is Plato's evil alter ego, but he's in love with Victoria so he doesn't want anyone to know. Or he's not even aware that he is Macavity. A Jekyll and Hyde sort of deal.

Mistoffelees is Macavity's son and that's why he can do magic. (Ergo why Macavity can make Old Deut disappear and Mistoffelees can make him reappear).

Alonzo was Munkustrap's gay fling in college so to speak. Or Alonzo is Munkustrap's half-brother

Coricopat and Tantomile are psychic twins (almost canon) and coach Sillabub/Jemima because she sings really pretty when she's in a trance and seems to Know Ineffable Stuff. In fanfics they're often depicted as not liking Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer, which is kinda funny because I guess I would have thought twins on twins would have been The Thing, lol.

Griddlebone was Gus's wife and sometimes Jellylorum's mom. She's evil, independently of Macavity, but also in cahoots with him because song lyrics. ETA: Also that she's Grizabella when she was young!

There's a cat just called George who everyone loves. He's an ensemble cat with no particulars. Love George. Worship George.

Look there's like ninety seven thousand characters in Cats (the Musical) and three times as many headcanons. I'm leaving a lot out but I can't remember any more right now and I gotta go make dinner.

#cats musical #cats the musical

[woodchipp]

Currently replaying OMORI because I'm a masochist with my best friends @beevean and @the-crow-binary providing emotional support lmfao. Even despite how soul-crushingly boring it is, I think we're still having some sort of fun with this clusterfuck of a game

Highlights (and the misc. problems we've managed to spot) so far include:

I already knew that this game's length was detrimental to it during my first solo playthrough, but this playthrough is helping me put into perspective just how bloated OMORI is, even when it comes to an aspect like dialogue. For example, a single conversation between Space Boyfriend and the main cast took us approximately 5 minutes to get through, and it's not like the writing is gripping enough to make us give a shit about the characters or anything they're saying

Speaking of the dialogue, you can just see how hard it tries to be witty and Quirky™ the way Earthbound and indie RPGs like Undertale were. Needless to say, it fails horribly, and the end result of that was me having to fast-track some conversations because they were unfunny and weren't relevant at all

I got unintentionally (!) stuck in White Space for 15-20 minutes because I couldn't find the map the game needed me to find to let me open the door. Beev came to hate the repetitive 8-bit BGM the area had by the time I finally found the map lol. game_design.exe

Headspace's music is so ear-gratingly abysmal oh my god. I can only call it "dollar-store Kirby music" because that's the most appropriate description that comes to mind and I'm pretty sure Lost at a Sleepover gave Beev severe PTSD. Of course, the music of Faraway Town isn't any better: the "track" that plays in the first fight with Aubrey is less music than it is the result of an .exe file being put through an audio player. Sonic Chronicles might have some serious competition in the "worst video game soundtrack" category asdfghjkl

The plot of the Faraway Town segments is so cookie-cutter that it genuinely hurts to sit through. Character writing (or the lack thereof) aside, Sunny and Kel spend half a day loitering around the town and asking Aubrey's cronies where she is even though Kel could've easily gotten that information from Mikhael had he just indulged the latter's delusions of grandeur a little bit

Faraway Town's daytime sky is literally a scrolling JPEG of a cloudy sky. The battle backgrounds of the real world segments are edited JPEGs as well. Everyone's houses look exactly the same on the outside save for some of them being a different color. The developers spent six years and more than $200,000 on this game.

Sunny's fights against his fears are boring. You just need to wait until a particular turn when the game grants you a special skill you use to end the fight immediately. What was the point of designing these hallucinatory monsters if the player doesn't get to fight them at any point during the main route?

Aubrey (ostensibly) swinging a nail bat at Sunny is not treated with the same degree of realism as Sunny slashing her with a knife. Additionally, Aubrey rides away on her scooter just fine even though she's supposed to be bleeding

Mari's picnic baskets are inexplicably scattered all across the town and fulfill the exact same function as they do in Headspace. So much for realism!

I won two of the fights against Aubrey's goons even though I was trying to lose. gameplay.exe

Sunny is even more unpleasant than I remember. He doesn't respond to Basil - who is supposedly his best friend - when the latter talks to him, stays silent while (and after) Kel vents to him about Hero yelling at him and barges into the church despite Kel advising him to wait until the sermon ends. Why should I feel bad for him again?

Kel generally seems to treat Sunny like an actual baby, spelling out incredibly obvious things to the latter (e.g. that Sunny shouldn't be carrying a knife or walking in the road because it's dangerous) and making all of Sunny's decisions for him, to the point of not allowing Sunny to return into his own house until nighttime under the pretense of "there's so much to do! it's a brand new day!"

Finally, the "fight" against Sunny's fear of spiders comes completely out of nowhere since nothing triggered said fear during Sunny's adventures outside

Peak game, everyone.

And it's going to get way worse down the line!

#omori #omori game #wood et al play omori #ig that's a tag now lol

[topguncortez]

Day 29: What Doesn't kill me. . . . ➣prompt: ALT- touch starved ➣character: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Shy!Wife ➣warnings: mentions of scars, mentions of near death, mentions of out of body experiences, heart surgery, Jake has PTSD ➣note: I apologize cause this is shit but it can be read as a part 2 to Day 6 ➣masterlist | whumptober | library

It had been nearly three months since the accident, and Jake was walking on pins and needles around everyone. The surgery to save her life had been successful, the team of doctors had managed to stop the clot before it caused Y/N’s heart to stop. Jake never left her side once he got to see her after that. It took about twenty-four hours for Y/N to open her eyes, and Jake nearly bursted into tears at the sight. It had been weeks since he had seen those eyes that he loved so much. Jake watched from the side of the room as doctors and nurses began their evaluation on Y/N, checking the incisions on her body, taking her for an MRI of her brain, running tests on her heart to make sure she was strong enough. 

Y/N had passed every test with flying colors and was determined more than ever to get home to her kids. She hadn’t seen or held her kids in nearly a month. She wasn’t sure if it was a coma induced dream, but she could remember hearing Ella and Alex talking to her. Jake had acquired the help of Rooster and Bob to get the house ready for Y/N to come home. She miraculously didn’t have any broken bones, it was just that her heart was weak. 

The first night home was a clusterfuck of a disaster. Y/N was nervous and excited to be home, and so was Jake. They had spent an additional week post surgery for Y/N to do physical therapy and get stronger. The doctors recommneded for her to stay longer but she kindly told them to go fuck themselves. Jake drove under the speed limit, his green eyes fluttering back and forth from the road to her, making sure that she wasn’t in pain. When they got to the house, it took nearly five minutes to walk from the driveway to the front door, Y/N having to stop and catch her breath. And as soon as they got in the door, five pairs of feet came running towards her. 

“Careful!” Jake scolded his kids, “Hey! All of you, go sit!” Jake didn’t like yelling at his kids, it reminded him too much of the way his father yelled at him, but he had to. Y/N looked ready to pass out as she stood in the doorway trying to hold her kids. 

The night was very overwhelming between Jake and the kids, and members of the dagger squad being over. Y/N felt like her head was swimming the whole night long, and all she wanted to do was to go to sleep. Jake did his best trying to wrangle the kids, but it was a lot of work. Y/N wasn’t strong enough to really do anything but sit and watch Jake try to stop Eli from jumping on the couch next to his mother. Alex and Ella somewhat understood that they had to be careful, but the younger three Seresin kids didn’t quite get it. 

“Jake, I need to go to bed,” Y/N said, her voice cracking as the living room filled with the loud screams of Maxwell Seresin. 

“Okay, sweetheart,” Jake said, trying to soothe his son. Y/N felt helpless as she watched Phoenix take the screaming child out of Jake’s arms and walked to another part of the house. Rooster, Bob, and Coyote were working on getting the other kids ready for bed. She tried to put a smile on her face as Jake helped her up from the couch and walked her down the hallway towards their bedroom. 

After that night, she was more determined than ever to get back to full health. She couldn’t stand by and not be able to go run with her kids or help Jake around the house. Jake had taken off work so he could be there to help her, from taking the kids to school to taking her to doctors appointments. Jake learned all he possibly could about how to help her recover, and Y/N loved him for it. 

But now that some of her restrictions were loosening, Y/N felt herself more than ever being at odds with Jake. She didn’t notice it at first, her body and mind were still weak, but Jake would hardly touch her. It was never more than just a hand on her back to help her walk down the hallway, or his arms wrapping around her body to help her stand from the bed, or a hand through her hair when he’d help her shower. Y/N couldn’t remember the last time he had kissed her. And everytime one of the kids would get close to hugging her, Jake would tell them not to or to be extra careful. She was missing human touch, she was missing the touch of her husband. 

Jake was putting the kids to bed as Y/N was brushing her hair at her vanity. She smiled to herself looking at her reflection in the mirror. She was wearing one of Jake’s favorite robes, a black satin number with lace fringe. Underneath she was wearing a matching black lace bra and panties, something she knew would drive her husband absolutely mad. Y/N had gotten the all clear from her doctor (after much of her consistent asking) that she could finally have sex with her husband. Y/N needed the intimacy, she needed the loving touch of Jake on her skin. 

“I swear, those kids take a shot of espresso right before bed,” Jake said as he walked into the bedroom. He flopped down on the bed on his stomach with his eyes closed. Y/N set her brush down and turned to face him, opening the top of the robe slightly. Jake opened one of his eyes, looking at her. His breath caught in his throat as he pushed himself up a bit, looking at her with both his gorgeous green eyes. 

“Whatcha wearin’, sweets,” Jake asked. A smirk graced Y/N’s lips as she got off the bench she was sitting on and walked over to her husband. 

“Oh just this old thing,” She said. Jake sat up against the pillows and the headboard, as she climbed onto the bed. He watched her every move as she found herself seated in his lap, “I missed you.” 

“You see me every day,” He chuckled. 

“I know, but I can still miss you,” She picked up his hands, intertwining them with her own. His eyes became blown with lust as they saw the tops of her breasts pushed up in her bra. His breath hitched as Y/N leaned forward and began to kiss his neck. 

“What are you doing, sweets?” Jake asked, as she put his hands on her hips, and began to grind down in his lap. 

“What does it look like?” Y/N pulled away, “Trying to engage in foreplay with my husband,” She rushed out before planting her lips on his. Jake kissed her back, holding her close to him for a moment. And then it was like an alarm went off in his head, as he grabbed her and set her down off his lap. 

“I can’t,” Jake said, and got off the bed, going for the bathroom. 

“And why not!” Y/N yelled. Jake sighed as he stood in the doorway, “For weeks I’ve been trying to get you to touch me and nothing! It shouldn’t be this hard to get my husband to fucking touch me! What is your problem!? Why won’t you-” 

“YOU DIED!” Jake yelled, turning around quickly. His chest was red with anger, and she could see the vein in his forehead beginning to throb, “You fucking died, Y/N. Your heart stopped beating. And it’s my fault. All of this is my fault!” 

Jake hadn’t cried in front of her. He told himself that he couldn’t, that the second he broke and cried in front of her, it was going to break the facade that he was okay. But he wasn’t, Jake Seresin was far from okay. The day of the accident played in his mind every time he got into the car. He had gotten a new one, thanks to the insurance check, but it still terrified him. Every single thing he did, he did with extra caution, whether that was putting the kids in their carseats, or stopping at a red light. Y/N hadn’t even noticed that Jake gripped the wheel extra tight when he drove, sometimes he gripped it so hard his hands would cramp. 

“Jake, the accident wasn’t your fault. The other driver was-” 

“I know what the reports said,” Jake sighed and ran a hand through his hair, “I’ve read them over and over and over again to where I can probably recite them perfectly. I know the other driver was drunk and hit us head on. I know that there was nothing I could do to prevent that. I know all that. . . but it’s still my fault.” 

Y/N climbed off the bed quickly and crossed the floor to get to him. Jake closed his eyes as she picked up his hand and held it to her chest. He felt tears rise in his eyes at the feeling of her warm skin against his hand. He could feel her heart beating in her chest, and the scar that ran down the center of her sternum. 

“I am alive because of you, Jake,” Y/N said, “I heard what you said to me. When you told me to let go, that you would be okay if I needed to go. You helped me to decide if I was going to fight to stay or not. Every single day you would come in and tell me something about the kids or the dagger squad or about the weather. . . I heard it all. And trust me, when they started shocking me and doing CPR, I wanted to give up, I wanted to let go. . . but I couldn’t because of you.” 

Y/N had only told her therapist about everything that she experienced when she was in the coma. Y/N thought she was going crazy, having all these vivid memories of the time spent in the hospital, but her therapist said that those memories were real. That it wasn’t uncommon for patients to have out of body experiences and see the world from the other side. Jake had tears streaming down his cheeks as his finger gently ran down the scar on her chest. He had been avoiding looking at it, seeing it as a constant reminder of the worst day of his life. But now, he could see the beauty in it. It didn’t hinder her beautiful skin, it added to it. It made her that much more special. 

“Touch me, please,” Y/N cried, “I need you to just hold me.” 

Jake nodded, and for the first time in so long, Jake held his wife in his arms.

#top gun #top gun fan fic #top gun fan fiction #top gun imagine #top gun maverick #top gun maverick fan fic #top gun maverick fan fiction #top gun maverick imagine #Jake hangman seresin #Jake seresin x reader #Jake seresin fan fic #Jake seresin fan fiction #Jake seresin imagine #hangman #hangman fan fic #hangman fan fiction #hangman imagine #hangman x reader #Jake seresin x shy!wife #opposites attract

[nail-art-no-jutsu]

Sasori and Deidara nail polish headcanons

Sasori does his nails once in a blue moon, he uses a special kind that he made himself and lasts for a very long time on his nails

he can paint his nails with great precision and it's no big deal, he rather likes the turquoise shade

and he didn't think about it too much until he and Deidara started arguing about whether or not it painting your nails is art

Deidara: of course it isn't, art is in the beauty of the moment, not in something you get stuck with for like a week, and besides, it's just decorating a body part, the same as eyeliner, or getting dressed ffs

Sasori: if it wasn't art before, it is now, and he starts brainstorming the one nail design to rule them all, which he wants to keep on his nails forever - or just redo over and over, same thing. shh.

while Deidara tries to imagine how to make the stuff even remotely "explosive" at least metaphorically speaking, and he discovers thermal nail polish, it changes based on your body's temperature, and if Sasori hates it, that's good enough, un

then he adds even more special effects to his nails: holographic. magnetic. glow in the dark. reacts to your chakra. just. anything as long as Sasori thinks it's hideous

but just when Deidara starts to actually enjoy the whole thing, Kakuzu discovers how he managed to blast such a huge hole in the budget, and bans his layering experiments immediately, and then Deidara is back to his plain boring black color

Sasori wins, he no longer has to gaze upon Deidara's aesthetic clusterfuck

and well, the black matches Deidara's eyeliner, so it's like whatever

but it's still not art though!!!!!!!

#sasori #deidara #naruto headcanons #naruto hcs #akatsuki #akatsuki headcanons #akatsuki hcs #sasori hcs #deidara hcs #sasori headcanons #deidara headcanons #my stuff #rose rambles #y'all have No Idea how much I love the fact that Akatsuki have painted nails