#they're here too they're just- they're fine

[lady-raziel]

and alright, here's my last (let's hope) and boldest take yet. lots of people have been talking about the level of staff (around 25-ish people) at watcher, and whether downsizing that number could have been a potential avenue of reducing costs before just jumping to a subscription model. at first i was like yeah, i'm not sure that there needs to be 18 people involved in making a lets play. i was in the fucking trenches in the unus annus days and i'm still amazed how markiplier and ethan nestor managed to put out pretty well edited videos every day for a whole year with only a handful of editors and a couple people filming. what unus annus was trying to do and what watcher is trying to do are obviously pretty different, but the point is that you really don't need a whole crew of people to make lots of different types of content and do it well.

i still think there probably doesn't need to be a whole production crew involved with the creation of some of the simpler types of content watcher puts out. however, i don't think the size of the staff is the real problem. in fact, i think the staff of watcher probably should have been larger.

let me explain. if i begrudgingly go to one of my most detested websites (linkedin. *bleeegh*) and look up watcher, i can see that pretty much every person on staff is in a creative role of some sort by their own admission. at first glance, its like, oh, that makes sense. they're making creative products, it's natural that they should all be in creative roles. however, once you think about it for a little longer from a business perspective, that fact is really concerning.

after all, by watcher's own definition, this is a production studio. this is a company. So in this sea of creative roles, who's doing corporate planning? Who's managing finance? Who's doing payroll? Or brand outreach? Or human-freaking-resources??? you can hire outside groups for all this. i'm aware. but those services cost a lot of money to contract too. i'm just finding it concerning that there is pretty much no one on full time staff that is there to at least do some of this stuff. if watcher wants to be a big-boy company, that's fine, but that means you have to pay some people to be part of your company to do the not-fun business stuff like accounting. or resource management.

if they want to be a real company, they should actually have a lot more people on staff to deal with all the non-creative parts of running a company. even if they contract out most of it, you want at least a few people that are your people and don't actually work for someone else. that's how you don't get screwed over or end up in a contract you can't get out of.

which leads me to my last train of thought. like, as i go through the staff of watcher and look at what they do, it really seems like one of the ONLY people who's job it was to look at the business side of things WAS steven lim in his role as CEO. and thinking about that, i'm like god, can you imagine?? here's a guy who just wants to create cool stuff too but as one of the few people who has to think about the realities of Brand and the Business, HE has to be the one to burst the bubble. He as CEO has to say no to people and make decisions to make sure the company survives. In a group of creative people who just want to make things they're interested in, no expense spared, he was probably the guy who had to stay at least a little tethered to reality.

I'm not about to say that steven lim isn't to blame here. everyone involved in making the decisions that have led up to this point is part of this. but shit, it absolutely sucks to have to be the person at the end of the brainstorm session when everyone is coming up with their best ideas and to have to say "guys, i don't think any of these things are possible unless we make some big decisions."

is that what happened at watcher HQ? i don't know. at this point, with radio silence from everyone, speculation is all we've got. but if you follow the thread of a bunch of creatives striking out on their own to make their own business after being burned by their former employer, despite not knowing really how to run a business, and then only hiring fellow creative people and not other people who actually run business things... well, all of this starts to make slightly more sense in WHY none of watcher's actions make sense. everybody wants to stick it to the man and be their own boss with their own business, until it actually comes to the hard parts of doing that. at that point people start to realize, "oh, maybe some of the things that existed at my old job were there for a reason, actually."

all this is why lots of creatives striking out and starting their own businesses don't work in the end. they're thinking about in terms of creative products still, when they really need to be focusing more on the "business" part of the "creative business." it's sad. it sucks. it destroys a lot of good ideas and good people, because one person in every company like that has to be the one who thinks practically. could this have been avoided if watcher had been hiring people all along to manage this business and not just adding people to add to the creative output? maybe. even then it might not have been enough to curb other predictable impulses that led us down this path.

i feel bad for watcher, and i feel bad for the fandom. but i can't help but wonder if this was always the kind of situation we were going to end up in, and we just missed some of the warning signs because ALL of us were thinking, "well, that could never happen to us. we're different. not the Ghoul Boys."

#watcher #watcher tv #two stupidly long thinkpieces in one morning? wow! what a bargain! #just don't ask which of my responsibilities i'm ignoring by typing all this out

[going-to-ikea-for-the-fries]

It's a Match! || poly!141 x Reader

[Chapter 31] || [Chapter 33]

Pairing: Gaz x gn!Reader || Ghost x gn!Reader || 141 x gn!Reader Words: 1.3K~ cw: not angst but a bit 'angsty', fluff fluff fluff. Summary: While overcoming recent heartbreak, you decide to join Tinder in search of a rebound. Your friends advise to just Swipe Right indiscriminately... What happens when 4 soldiers from the same squad match with you? a/n: This one made me all emosh to write ngl.

Chapter 32: No Harm Done.

You're sitting by the sliding glass door leading out to the balcony on Sunday morning, looking out and holding a warm drink in your hands.

It's raining outside. It's always raining in England, so it shouldn't really surprise you... but it still feels like a lazy, down-sort of day regardless.

You're home alone. Johnny went to base for P.T. and a meeting of sorts, while Kyle went out to the gym himself, giving you some time for yourself.

Your phone sits in front of you, fingers tapping away, back-and-forth, between chats with friends and with the lads, your lads.

Ghost said they'd text you to let you know when they were back, a promise they'd made after they sort of just turned up at your door all injured and hurt without warning so many weeks ago.

It feels like it's been an eternity since you had them all here.

Your eyes find your chat with Simon, flittering over the last couple of texts you sent each other. Right before the boys left on their newest mission.

Regardless of what Kyle and Johnny say about Simon, he's actually the best texter out of all of them... John being the worst.

simon: Have about 5 minutes before we have to go. you: will u be safe? simon: Always am sweetheart. simon: Don't you worry about me. you: i meant ALL of you. you: and of course i worry about u! simon: If it was about all of us, you wouldn't be messaging me separately. simon: And I appreciate it but you shouldn't. you: i hate how smart u are. you: u face death literally every day in your job simon: And I always come back. you: okay but im allowed to worry no? you: youd worry about the others too? simon: I guess so. simon: But I'll be fine. you: u dont know that. simon: I know enough. simon: Been doing this for over a decade. you: that's not reassuring the way you think it is. simon: You're very worried. Is this because of what I said?

That text makes you set down your phone when you read it again, your face warm with embarrassment at the reminder, just like it had been during that text exchange as it was happening.

He had told you he loves you. Two of them had by now.

The thought of that still makes you shiver, the words so full of emotion and vulnerability when Simon said them, never any pressure on you, just a gesture on his end.

you: maybe? simon: That's really cute of you. simon: Don't let it make you worry or overthink. simon: I'll make sure I come back to you. you: si... simon: GTG ✋ simon: Will text you when I touch down.

Kyle's, however, were a lot less vulnerable. They were sweet, sudden, driven by happiness and amusement...

Both of them came out of left field and caught you off-guard.

Both of them felt just as real, however.

You took a sip of your warm drink and glanced out of the window again, watching the droplets slide down the glass panes.

You can't help but think about how things have been going for you.

Is this becoming too much? Is it going too far? Did you finally lose the plot?

When did a silly little Tinder account you made with your friends while fighting heartbreak become a 4-way relationship and 2 out 4 men telling you they're in love with you?

You're lost in thought when the door opens behind you, Kyle making his way in.

"Hey, lovie." He greeted, causing you to jump a bit, spilling some of your drink over the glass top of the table.

"Ah, fuck." You complained as you reached for the napkin holder and started mopping up the liquid. "Hi, Ky." You added as you cleaned the mess you made.

"Sorry, did I catch you off guard?" He asked as he approached the table and began to help you.

"Yeah..." You murmured and looked up at him, finally, finding him in a grey sleeveless hoodie and black workout shorts.

You smiled softly at him as you gathered the wet napkins and moved to the kitchen to dispose of them.

Kyle seemed to catch the look in your eyes as you glanced up at him. "What's wrong? You seem strange..." He asked as you followed you into the kitchen.

"Just thinking, it's nothing." You told him as you turned after throwing out the rubbish, only to find him standing right behind you, looking at you with scrunched brows.

"Is this about yesterday?" He asked you softly. "Was it too early?" He added in earnest.

The memories of the day before come back to you sharply. The way, after he told you he loved you, you sputtered for a bit, your face burning up, your eyes wide...

And how you had come back home together, your nose still pink, his cheek still red, the both of you looking embarrassed and sheepish, avoiding eye contact and biting your lip.

How Johnny had teased the two of you, thinking you had gotten down and dirty in the car and that's why you had come home looking so embarrassed...

You look up at him with a sigh and shake your head. "No, it's just..." You trailed off.

"Was it because Soap teased us after we came back?" He reached forward and gently ran a hand over your cheek.

"No!" You added and sighed, leaning into his palm, and gently holding his forearm in your hand.

"I'm just worried... I've never... been in something like this before." You explained, as you looked into his eyes. "More than one partner and-"

Kyle nodded at you, watching you with understanding eyes and a soft gaze, like he wanted you to keep talking, communicating.

"I don't know how to act about this... I don't know..." You trailed off and looked away for a moment. "It's... a strange feeling."

"To love more than one person at once?" He asked you as his brows raised in inquiry.

You nodded in response and looked up at him. "Yeah... And to... have them love me back."

"So I wasn't the first to tell you, huh?" Kyle asked, having caught the way you mentioned 'more than one person' when it came to 'loving you back'.

Your face burned up hot in embarrassment and you shook your head at him.

"Simon was." You replied, which made Kyle's eyes widen and then a smile take over his lips as he shook his head.

"Wasn't expecting that..." Kyle admitted as he caressed your cheek again.

"Did you say it back for him? Like you did for me?" He asked and you nodded your head in reply.

"Well..." Kyle trailed off, seemingly lost in thought for a moment, as if pondering what to say, and how to say it. "It's not exactly a bad feeling, is it?"

You shook your head. It wasn't a bad feeling. In fact, you quite liked having said the words, having had the words said to you.

"Then, I'd say there's not a big cause for worry. We all knew this would happen, right?" He added. You, once again, nodded at him.

Gently, he cupped your face with both hands, his thumbs rubbing your cheeks. "Then, let's just... let it be." He chuckled.

"You and I love each other. You and Simon love each other. I love Simon too..." He admitted with a shrug. "No harm done, right?"

Smiling a bit more, you ended up nodding and gently pushed up, kissing him slowly and deeply, both of your eyes closing, his hands caressing your face, your hands caressing his forearms...

You're so into the kiss, you don't hear the front door close, nor Johnny approach, until he shows up at the kitchen door. "Greedy bastard, leave some space for the Tav, will ye?"

taglist (CLOSED! not adding anyone else, sorry!):

@daisychainsinknots , @bunnysdaydreams , @iite-cool , @lahniu , @pagesfalling ,

@tapioca-milktea1978 , @live-love-be-unique , @thelaisydazy , @littleghosthunter , @bossva ,

@emotion-no-hot-yes-hotel-trivago , @chamomiletealeaf , @ghosts-hoe , @kariiiel , @ltbarnes ,

@irregulardongyoung , @spacelia , @hayleybarnesx , @cod-z , @frescoisnotinthemilitary ,

@leeeenistop , @lucienbarkbark , @xxshadowbabexx , @severenswife , @enarien ,

@l0lziez , @whos-fran , @greatstormcat , @openup-yourmind , @neoarchipelago ,

@sodavrr , @cutiecusp , @lilliumrorum , @c-nstantine , @kneelforloki ,

@comeonatmebruh , @codsunshine , @waiting-so-long , @captainquake42 , @gazspookiebear ,

@mynameismisty , @reap3erslov3 , @reaper-chan666 , @poohkie90 , @kitwithnokat ,

@stick-the-dumbass , @mothsdrabbles , @justanerd1 , @thesinsoflust , @thriving-n-jiving ,

@blckbrrybasket , @agoodmoviekiss

#ikea writes 💚 #it's a match! fic #cod modern warfare #cod fanfic #captain john price #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #simon ghost riley #text story #cod x reader #call of duty x reader #141 x reader #gaz x reader #ghost x reader

[brucewaynehater101]

your posts about Tim being the parent in his time with Bruce+ Richard's parentification + Tim always planning of being a placeholder, got me thinking

What if Tim started off like that, playing parent for Bruce, ensuring he doesn't cross any lines or overworks himself

And just never stop?

His civilian life is starting to crack, and he's doing worse than he could be, but Batman has to be taken care off

In comes Jason who tries to kill him (great another Bruce) so his workload is doubled, and also Damian who has to be untaught murder

Well it's an escalation of what he's used to, but if he can deal with Batman, he can deal with his kids, time to bust out the books on therapy and deprogramming cult teachings

Besides, he's a placeholding for the two of them until they're better like Batman, so who better to teach them the ropes than him?

Let's toss in comments here and there that will clear misunderstandings between the Bats (excluding himself— he's temporary) and what about their interactions keeps the family apart

Like boy is neglecting himself to high hell, only stopping when it's literally impossible, and barely has a civilian life, but it's worth it for Gotham's betterment and the Batfamily's stabilization

Timestream? Well shit, he has to get Bruce back as per his job of keeping the family in order but the family is either not getting better or worse,

Let him just leave a bunch of personalized self-help guides and programmed schedules that'll ensure the bats are getting better while he's away

Oh hey Ra's, midn if I secretly learn everything about how Damian grew up in this fine League of yours so I can teach Damian what is so wrong about his childhood once I'm home?

So everything is getting better post BruceQuest, Richard can be a brother more (because Tim took on his job as parent-brother), Damian and his family are able to bond and understand each other (because Tim untaught an awful upbringing) and Jason feels like a member of the family (because Tim got Jason up to speed with how much he has always been loved) plus Bruce gets to be a father with his kids (because Tim kept the man out of his otherside inevitable self-made grave)

And say Batfamily, in a miracle of communication, realize that Tim has subsumed Bruce's role as caretaker and father

Not to the entire family of course, but even parenting for one sibling or parent as a kid yourself is one too many

And they remember all the comments Tim said to help the family get better subtly suggesting everybody but Tim is family

Like he's said "Your family," never "Our"

He says "You're a Wayne, a member of their family,"

He has to be referred to as Tim and Drake, never Wayne to catch his attention

And also imagine Richard saying "You can't keep being a parent to your brothers and father" and Tim going "glass houses, *tires to parent Rich*"

"NO—"

The shit storm that would happen if the batfamily realized that Tim donned Robin with the intention of always playing parent for Bruce, and then leaving once his intervention isn't need anymore

Yes! I absolutely love the ideas you incorporated with this. I didn't manage to hit all of them in my post, but I tried to expand upon them a bit:

At first, Tim wouldn't realize that's what he's doing. He just wants to help Bruce (even if that includes taking away the Batmobile keys, locking him out of the batcomputer, and using a rewards system when the man successfully takes care of his wounds).

Tim only comes to the realization that he's Bruce's parent when the YJ are being lectured by their mentors. At this point, the team has done far more dangerous stunts and missions than whatever the JL was lecturing them about. When the mentors come, Robin allows Batman to lecture him in front of the others. Tim knows they have to keep up appearances and can listen to a hypocritical discussion from Bruce to maintain the image of Batman Tim has spent so much time propping up.

After the other mentors leave, Tim pulls Batman into a private room for a chat. Bart, fearing that Robin is getting a second lecture, almost bursts in to save Tim. He's slowed down by the glare Tim sends his way. He's stopped by the conversation he overhears.

Tim, with his hands on his hips as he glares up into the cowl, lectures Bruce on all the behavior issues the man displayed the month that the YJ were away.

Bruce is just standing there, head slightly hung, as Tim goes on.

"This is why I feel I can never get away, B. I can't even leave you for a month before your excessive force statistics skyrocket! What am I supposed to do with you?"

Bart quickly leaves as he has a mental breakdown at this discovery. Two hours later, when Batman leaves, Bart asks Robin if he's Batman's father. Tim laughs it off at first, but after Bart lays out the evidence, Tim spirals for a few days at this discovery.

Once Tim accepts that he *is* like Bruce's dad, he decides to just embrace it. He and Alfred can share custody of the man-child (and this is also why Tim has the view of family that he does. His three examples of being a father are his own dad who constantly leaves, Alfred who maintains a professional distance, and Bruce who's his grieving son). Tim sees Dick as his brother, but he sees Bruce as his kid. It's confusing as hell, complicated, and Tim also doesn't see himself as part of the family at the same time.

While the teen is finally settling into his role as Bruce's parent, Jason comes back and tries to kill him. He doesn't know whether or not to laugh that Jason becomes his new responsibility at the same place Bruce officially (in Tim's mind) became Tim's.

The teen treats Jason similar to a grandson and son. He parents Bruce on how to interact with Jason, takes a few college classes and reads a few textbooks on PTSD, and interrogates LoA agents on the Pit. He slowly starts to feed them both phrases and perspectives so that they understand and interact with each other better. He almost wants to hit them both upside the head for their miscommunication.

It's not great, and Tim is so fucking tired, but they are getting closer to being a family. Tim can almost taste his retirement.

Then Damian comes into the family and tries to kill him. Tim wants to scream.

Damian isn't exactly friendly to Tim, but the teen spots a breakthrough when he catches how Dick and Damian interact. He, in what he later calls foolishly, drops some of the weight onto Dick's shoulders. Tim's tired trying to wrangle both Jason and Bruce into somewhat, even unhealthily, communicating with each other.

Then Bruce dies. It's unfair because Tim has lost someone who's both his son and his father to him. No one except Cassie could know about the amount of grief Tim is under because of that. Cassie, who Tim isn't talking to after the whole basement scientist cloning thing.

So, Tim finds evidence that Bruce is alive. He watches as Dick cracks under the weight of Batman and being a father to Damian. He's hurt (oh gods does it burn to lose his self-made but suffocating role that ties him to Bruce), but he understands why Dick gives Damian Robin.

Tim leaves, and he starts to discover himself. He became an adoptive father at thirteen. For once, even though he's heavily lost in the thralls of grief, he's free of that responsibility. He only has to take care of himself (an exhausting task he's never quite accomplished before) and he doesn't rely on anyone.

Still, despite his freedom, he sees Ra's offer for what it is. It's an opportunity to learn more about Damian. Bruce will need Tim's support when he returns, after all. If he takes down Ra's both for himself and Damian, that's neither here nor there.

When Bruce finally returns home, Tim starts to see his retirement again. He sees the progress he's enacting out of the family in all of their relationships. Like Tim's messy relationship with Bruce, Dick is both a father and brother to Damian. Jason and Bruce will occasionally meet at a diner. Damian and Bruce will have father-child outings outside of Batman and Robin. Cass returns home more often. Steph barges into the Manor for food or bugs different Bats on patrol. Babs is able to take time for herself outside of wrangling the Bats together. Duke is starting to join the family, but Tim doesn't imagine too much tension or difficulty with that transition. They'll be fine without him.

It's looking up. Tim can leave behind his the Wayne family.

Then Damian points out how Tim often uses "your" or "their" instead of "our" family.

Godsdamnit.

#dc comics #dc universe #tim drake #jason todd #bruce wayne #dick grayson #damian wayne #thank you for the ask!!!! #your ask has so many good ideas thank you!

[fraugwinska]

What about the reader found and old radio, they thought the radio was broken but it's not, it's just antique.. when they play it at night time alastor broadcast was heard first they feel something is odd.. but they love to listen to his voice, heck they even like talking to each other, because of this encounter alastor talk about it to rosie, she was happy hearing alastor telling her stories but she feel odd when alastor mention that the person he talks to is a human, Rosie giving him advice to not fall for human because they're different species, and it will make him weak etc.

Alastor feel guilty and agree with rosie advice so he's stop contacting the reader from the radio, he thinks that the reader will be fine but no the reader take it personally.. they thought alastor don't want to talk to them anymore.. it drive them mad and lead to suicide..

So yeah angst :D

Oh Anon. What have you done. I cried while I wrote that - it took two very good friends of mine to encourage me to post it (Thanks to @macabr3-barbi3 and @mysterypotatoink). But I think it's tragic and beautiful, and honestly - I'm kinda proud of it! TW: Psychological Trauma, descend into madness, loss of self care and suicide - please take care of yourself and do not read if you aren't comfortable with any of the mentioned! MINORS DNI Here we go.

❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️

Leap of Faith

You carried in the last box from you banged-up minivan. The old thing barely made it to your new home. A little cabin in the outskirts of New Orleans, a little off the grid and surrounded by the peaceful and whirring bayous of Louisiana.

A fixer-upper, just like yourself.

The online auction had intrigued you the second you found it, the photos were a bit blurry and you knew it was a risk to buy a place you've never set foot in, but something in you called you to get it. The price you paid was laughable, barely making a dent in your savings. Moving states sounded scary and impossible, but you felt oddly calm about it. You didn't have a lot of stuff to move anyway. After all, you only lived with your late grandmother, and she never really cared for material things. Your parents left you at her doorstep, never to be seen again.

Caring for her in her last, sickness-ridden years had been a no-brainer - it felt like nothing in comparison to all she had done for you - but it also had been a bit lonely. You had your friends, if you could even call them that, but you rarely saw them - guiding your nan through the last months of her life had been demanding and time-consuming. It had left you exhausted and emotionally unavailable, and after a while, calls and texts ceased, until it was just you and her. You felt lost, as if the world was slowly pulling away from you.

When she finally died, peacefully in her sleep, you felt sad, relieved and drained. Detached from the city you lived in. Lost. So you decided to sell what little you inherited, except for a few sentimental mementos, and move away from it all. To start a new life, a happier one, finally one that was truly your own.

You took the final box inside, setting it on the coffee table and wiped the sweat from your brow. You looked around the little cabin: The roof had some spots that needed a patch, and the wood floors were a bit warped, but it was all yours. No more having to share anything with anyone.

The cabin came furnished, a lot of the stuff was old, but still usable. You figured that would change once you settled in and had a vision of what you wanted and needed to buy. The thought of thinking about no one but yourself made you nervous. But a little excited, too.

The old furniture would do for the moment, but there was a particular piece that caught your eye: an old, vintage cathedral radio, sitting nestled in between a cracked wooden box and a tarnished, bronze candle holder in a bookcase that was a bit out of place in the tiny space. With a tilted head, you stepped closer to inspect it, drawn to it by it's unique character and beauty. It looked as well-loved as it looked well-used, the mahogany a bit scuffed, the knobs a little worn from years of being turned. But there were golden details etched into the front, and you traced them lightly with a finger, strangely touched and intrigued.

You were certain the old thing didn't work, but when you plugged it into the nearby socket, static erupted from the speakers, making you jump back. You had to smile, though. Tonight, you wouldn't be alone. You'd have this little device and a little music for good company.

***

"I'm home!" you announced to no one in particular, as you closed the door behind you, your hands full with overfilled grocery bags full of necessities, waiting to fill your empty cabinets.

The day had been hot, but a welcome breeze of the impending night break cooled the inside of your little cabin a bit. With a quiet grunt you set the paper bags down at the small kitchenette. Your groceries were quickly dispersed, and you put on an apron you saved from your grandmother as you got started on dinner.

You hummed as you cut vegetables and boiled water. It had been a long time since you had cooked, really cooked, your nan wasn't much for eating and had no problem living off of simple soups and toast. When you opened your fridge to get some butter, your glance fell onto the radio.

A little music would be nice, you decided, and you walked over, cleaning your hands on the red, frilly cloth around your waist before you turned the dial. The soft sound of static made you hum in contempt - yup. Still works. A little turn to the left, and the room was filled with a soft jazzy tune, the melody a bit grainy, but you didn't mind that at all. You returned to the stove, swaying your hips to the beat as you worked. The music made you feel at ease, and for a moment, the world seemed to be just right.

Just as the onions began to brown in the pan, the song faded out to a voice. You turned your head to the radio, intrigued by the unusual, eccentric accent of the host. It reminded you of the old, vintage films and recordings your grandmother had been fond of - wasn't it called 'transatlantic'?. Whatever it was, it made you smile.

"Now wasn't that a kick in the head, dearest listener? I sure hope you enjoyed the little musical interlude, but it's time to return to the real show! As usual, my name is Alastor, and you are listening to the best jazz, blues and swing music that Hell has to offer!"

You blinked, a little puzzled and yet amused. "Sure is hot as hell today, strange man in the radio.", you mumbled, chuckling as you stirred the bell peppers under the caramelized onions.

"Today we have a very special guest joining my humble broadcast, it seems. Pleasure to meet you, darling, quite the pleasure!"

"Oh who? Me?" you asked, looking theatrically over your shoulder with batted lashes, shaking your head over your own silliness. You weren't used to talking out loud to yourself, or even really thinking out loud. You were always alone, after all, but the little pretend-play was fun. You laughed a bit, waiting for the host's guest to speak.

"Of course you, little dove. Who else would I mean?"

You gasped, and nearly dropped the spoon as you whipped around, eyes glued to the humming, orange glow of the radio in the dim darkness of your living room.

"What's that? You're surprised, my dear? Don't worry, you're not the only one! This is a first for me, too. Never had a human join my program. I must say, I'm quite intrigued! Tell me, what is your name?"

Your eyes grew wide, and the hairs at the back of your neck stood up. You took a hesitant step backwards and hit the hot stove, making you curse under your breath. Was the heat finally getting to you?

"Don't be shy now, darling. I'm not gonna hurt you, cross my lil' old, blackened heart."

"I-I'm..." you began, swallowing as your fingers tightened around the wooden spoon. "My name is..."

"Yes?"

"I'm... crazy.", you mumbled, rubbing a hand over your face and chuckling a bit. You were just going insane, that's all. Must be the stress, combined with the intense heat. And lack of a companion, a tiny voice reminded you. Yes. Must be.

"Hello crazy, this is Alastor." The host laughed, together with a canned audience.

"Alastor...", you repeated, realization settling in - this wasn't a joke, or a trick of your mind.

"At your service, my dear.", the voice cooed. "Now, I believe you still owe me your name..."

***

You weren't crazy.

Or if you were, you didn't mind. Not with Alastor by your side - or, to be exact, in the radio on your bookcase.

After two weeks of ignoring the cursed radio after unplugging it in a wave of panic on your first night, your morbid curiosity got the better of you. You plugged it back in, and turned on the dial. Just once, you told yourself, then never ever again.

And that's how the two of you got in contact with each other once more. Alastor was as chipper as the first time you heard him, and after a bit of back-and-forth, he promised once again not to harm you, and you shared your name with him. The rest was history. He was very pleasant company. For a demon from hell.

You wouldn't classify the conversations you had with him as a real friendship in the beginning, but you did talk. Occasionally. Mostly in the evenings, when you cooked dinner: He'd ask you about your day and would pry eagerly for a little bit of gossip or new information about the modern New Orleans. When he let it slip that he lived in this very cabin in the 1920's, you weren't stopping with questions about what it was like back in his days, which he, in return, answered generously and enthusiastically.

The first few times he would try to coerce you into making a deal for your soul, casually sprinkling the offer into his small talk, but with enough blunt refusals and a few more days of radio silence (pun intended), he dropped the topic and seemed content on just talking. You, in return, found yourself relaxing into his charming company, your brain happily engaged with trying to wrap your head around him, or better, you tried to come to terms with it.

Weeks passed, and turning the radio on in the evenings became less of an occasional lapse of judgment but more of a routine you were looking forward to. You could tell the Alastor felt the same, his banter became less tense and acted, and a little more genuine. It made your heart swell in happiness, that someone out there seemed to appreciate your company – even if that someone wasn't human. Apprehension became amusement, and fascination became friendship. Oddly enough, you found common grounds in a lot of things: A love for cooking and good music. Preferring books over films. Red wine over white. A shared aversion of vulgarity, and appreciation for good manners.

Your nights were cut shorter and shorter, you would spend hours chatting on and on, until the deep darkness of night disappeared into a shade of blue on the horizon. Neither of you minded, at least that was what you thought. Alastor never ended the conversations with you. Either you had to say your goodbyes, or you would just fall asleep after hours of talking on your couch, and awake with a pained back to a shut-off radio. Then, after you'd realize that you would have a whole day ahead of you without hearing his voice, the loss would make your chest ache.

Two months into the 'thing', which was still a strange concept you could barely comprehend, the truth of the matter dawned on you: You liked him. Not just because he was a surprisingly amicable voice coming out of your vintage radio, a lively constant in the uneventful life you had made for yourself in Louisiana - he had become important to you, irreplaceable, even. An essential element to your life. You couldn't imagine how you'd gone so long without him, and yet, here you were, lost without him, scrambling through the hours until you could talk to him once more.

"Something on your mind, darling? You're awfully quiet today."

You held your fork and knife still above the salmon you had just been about to eat. It was the first meal of the evening in a long time where you weren't spending the entirety of the preparation time speaking to him, lost in thought about your blossoming feelings. He had gotten excellent at reading you like an open book - you should've gotten used to it after a couple of weeks of him catching on to every little change in your demeanor and knowing just what to say, when you were feeling happy, upset or nervous.

"Oh, um... no. It's nothing Al. Work had me in a wringer today."

"Is it your co-worker Susan again?" You could basically hear his eyes rolling, making you chuckle. "That name must be cursed, every single soul with that name is a menacing pain."

"Maybe,", you muttered, nibbling on a piece of the roasted fish. "This one is mostly just an ornery old bitch."

"Taking the words right out of my mouth, dear." he laughed.

There's was a comfortable pause, with just a gentle background noise of his ever-playing static and an easy, melodic tune coming from his program.

"Is that really all that preoccupies that pretty little head of yours?"

You blushed, picking at the food with your fork. "Bold for a guy who's never seen me to assume my head is pretty."

The radio crackled with pops and feedback. "Bold to assume I can't see you whenever I want, little dove." he said, his voice strangely deeper, tinged with something you didn't catch at the shock of his words.

"You... what?"

"And I can most assure you,", he purred out of the speakers, "pretty is a well fitting word to describe you."

He hummed in approval when your cheeks gained color, as if he knew his comment threw you off guard and made you turn a lovely shade of pink, but it didn't make it any less enticing.

***

"Alastor, if I didn't know better, I would say you have become smitten with this mysterious gal you're blabbing on and about."

Rosie giggled, hitting his shoulder in a playful, friendly swipe. "When will I meet her? Come on now, you can't hide her forever. Or are you afraid she'll like me better?"

She laughed, and Alastor forced a toothy grin. His long time friend was the only one he talked about you with, and he knew she was intrigued whenever she could smell a blooming dalliance, especially with a notoriously abstinent bachelor like himself. Normally, he would laugh at that thought with a healthy dose of mockery, but he found himself to be less and less aversed at the thought - if it would be you. Impossible, of course.

"Nonsense, Rosie dear, nonsense,", he chuckled, taking a large sip from his coffee cup, a heavy hand bringing up a plate stacked with finger sandwiches. "And I'm afraid you won't meet her for a long time, maybe never. Humans seldom traverse to hell in their lifetime, and who knows if the little darling will take on the trip downstairs?"

Rosie coughed in her tea, her blackened eyes wide in shock. "Human? It's a human girl you've been courting here? Oh, Alastor, you old fool."

Alastor scrunched his nose, "Talking, Rosie, talking is all we do. And yes, she's a human. I don't see the quandary in that. It's just a little fun." "Well,", she huffed with a small, thoughtful frown. "I would've hoped for a little more sense in you." The tall demonesse set down her teacup with nimble fingers. "You may not call it courting, but if it quacks like a duck, it's a duck, love." Rosie ignored the indignant look Alastor gave her. "You know as well as I do that such a connection is dangerous to entertain. Humans are fragile and fragile things tend to break. And when they do, the owner mostly follows. You need to break this connection off."

Rosie gave him a sad look as his ears flattened against his head. She would've been more than happy for her oldest and dearest friend to have a partner on his side, someone good and honest who really cared about him, maybe loved him even, as unlovable as he was. But she had to protect him from the silly idea of possibly falling for a living, breathing and supposedly untarnished soul, and the heartbreak that would surely follow. "Don't make the mistake of breaking your heart, dear friend." she smiled, a tint of melancholy hidden in the red of her lips.

"I think it's far too late for that."

She offered a handkerchief, but Alastor waved her off, his smile more faint and close to a frown than she's ever seen.

***

The first day where nothing but static noise came out of the radio, you were irritated but just thought: 'Maybe Alastor has something to do'.

The second day of static you grew concerned. 'What if something happened to Alastor? Was he okay?'.

On the third day, you were panicked. 'Maybe he doesn't want to talk to you anymore! Maybe he met someone in hell, someone that he could talk to whenever he wanted and not through an old, dusty radio?'.

"Please talk to me.", you whispered into the empty room. Your knees were pulled to your chest, and you sat on your couch, eyes fixed on the radio in the bookcase. Your eyes stung with the tears threatening to spill. "Please, Al. I miss you." You shook your head, chuckling sadly. It had only been 3 days, but they'd felt like an eternity. The world had seemed silent without Alastor's constant chatter.

When night fell for the fourth day, you were half asleep, eyes red and burning and tears still staining your cheeks. You talked for hours into the void of your house, the radio now moved to sit in front of you on the coffee table, growing more and more desperate as hours passed. Talking faded into pleading, and pleading into begging.

"Please, I'm sorry, if I did something wrong, I'm sorry...", you mumbled into the wooden furnishing, resting your cheek against the top of the machine, eyes slipping shut with fatigue and defeat. A dry sob slipped past your trembling lips, as your hands desperately grabbed the sides of the antique device.

"Alastor please, don't leave me alone here...", you whispered with the last of your strength, before your body succumbed to your exhaustion, your unconscious mind welcomed the darkness.

If you had stayed awake for just a moment more, you would've, maybe, heard the faint shuddering breath beyond the static rumble. But you didn't. So you had no chance at knowing that, Alastor, listening to every word, saw and heard you at your weakest, and all it did to him was stir the embers and give the blaze an opening for the flames of his anger at fate to rage.

Work had called, again. Susan of all people. Threats were made - either come back to work, or don't come back at all. You smashed your phone. It was useless anyway. What was the point without...

Alastor wasn't here, hadn't answered for seven days now. And you had spent the whole time talking, begging him to show himself, just show himself and tell you what you did wrong, just talk to you one last time and then you'd stop, if that was what he wanted. You became obsessed with the orange light of the illuminated screen, imagining the flickers were maybe signs from him.

You stopped eating, stopped drinking, stopped almost anything, you just sat, in front of the radio, unmoving and unwilling to miss the smallest sign of his return.

Every single minute stretched into agony, and every breath that left your lips made a fresh tear roll down your paling cheeks, until your body couldn't produce them anymore. Then, you cried wordless whimpers and moans, even started praying to an unknown entity.

It wasn't as if Alastor owed you anything. It's not as though you thought the two of you were anything other than two kindred souls, one human, one demon, talking to each other. As a result, it wasn't like you had the right to anything from him. It was strange to consider the connection the two of you shared: Something more than acquaintances, something closer than friends, and yet never fully crossing the line beyond it. The unpenetrable boundary dividing life and death in between.

Your eyes fell on a large, old crucifix on your wall, staring back at you with pity.

For the first time in days, you left the sofa, took it from the wall and burned it on your gas stove, watching the face of the nailed figurine slowly melt in the fire.

***

It had been eight days of excruciating, one-sided silence.

Eight days Alastor cursed his cowardice as he sat, red eyed with claws digging into his scalp, as he listened to you plead for him to talk - To answer. To do anything. Anything, but leave you alone, he heard, as if the words were spoken right in his ear.

Eight days of watching you slowly detriment from the eyes of the shadows he was able to manifest above, tugging on the very fabric of the world to move you, to keep your mind from going where it shouldn't go.

He kept telling himself it was for the better. His shadows murmured persistent reminders that he should find entertainment in your growing lunacy. He was the radio demon, after all. He shouldn't care if this wisp of a human were to perish, should laugh at your wails of agony and despair.

But Alastor never felt less like laughing. Your dried sobs and pained apologies for things you never did wrong in the first place filled his head, taunting and gnawing on him with feelings he thought he was unable to feel: Guilt and Regret.

It was as Rosie had predicted - he was becoming weak. But weakness was something that should be avoided. Had to be. He knew. Being weak, being feeble, would make him vulnerable, make him into the prey his cruel from already portrayed to the world he had to inherit. He couldn't allow it. Couldn't let his feelings for you bring him down to the levels of the sinners in hell he would tear apart and laugh while he did it.

That's why he stayed silent. Endured it, all of it, every word, cry and plea. Stayed invisible and silent, waiting for you to move on, forget him, shut off and leave the radio, never to turn the dial again. For your sake and his.

When the connection broke, on that eight day, Alastor could feel your resignation, your peace with which your pale hands gripped the electrical cord at it's base to pull. And he was suddenly filled with the awareness of something horrible, like a premonition. It set his already battered, aching heart in an ice cold grasp of dread.

His room exploded in green light as he expanded into his full demonic form, his limbs threatening to pull and burst at the stitches and his smile splitting his face almost entirely in half. He had to reach out, had to reform the connection to the radio one last time, even though nearly impossible.

You were about to do something he would never be able to forgive himself for.

***

Your car broke down just where it needed to. You took the radio out of the trunk, knocking the hood two times for a goodbye, the key safely in the ignition. Maybe some other poor soul would find and repair it, make happier memories with it.

You clutched the wooden device closer and started to walk. Indigo blue faded into black as you looked up to the sky that was sprinkled with glowing, shimmering silver dust, stars blinking in the unimaginable distance. There, but out of reach. Just like him. Your dry sob stung in your throat, but you didn't really feel the pain. Your eyes were fixed on the path to your final destination, right in front of you.

The Crescent City Connection Bridge was mostly abandoned by traffic at this time of night and provided just enough covered spaces to hide you from some foolish saviors eyes.

You didn't need to be saved.

You didn't want to be saved.

Because you were about to save yourself.

There was nothing waiting for you in the other direction than the one you were going. So, with slow but steady steps, you walked towards the middle of the bridge, settling on a place next to a metal pillar and looked over the railing onto the shimmering waters of the Mississippi River.

Alastor had told you about the river, how he loved to watch the steam boats floating on it from the radio station where he worked at when he was alive. The station was long gone, you didn't even find out where it had been in the first place, but you liked to imagine that you were looking at the same scenery now that he had been looking at when he peered out of his booth in his radio tower. It made you smile through the tears... You were glad the end was somehow connected to him, even if it was most likely just your naive imagination.

It felt like the device in your arms was emitting static energy, prickling over your arms, hands and fingers as you caressed the mahogany wood gently, feeling as though the radio was shaking in your hands, trying to pull you back from the fenced ledge.

A quiet sob escaped your lips, turning into a giggle and into hysterical laughter. You sat down between the railing, and hugged the radio close, trying to breathe as you closed your eyes, resting your temple on the worn, warm wood.

"It'll be okay, Al.", you said quietly, your voice unnaturally hoarse and rough from lack of use and dehydration. "I'm coming. I'm coming to you.”

With one arm around the radio, holding it tight against your chest, you turned to stand on shaky legs, gripping the railing with one arm and, with one final glance at the stars above you you smiled. You heard sirens in the distance, and some people shouting from a sparkling streamliner passing under the bridge. Time was running short, so you didn't wait to put first one foot over the fence, then the other, taking a deep breath.

"I guess doves were always meant to fly."

And, with that, your body twisted, turned and leaped, falling as the light on the radio, firmly pressed against your heart, began to glow in deepest crimson and swirls of green.

Falling like an angel would descend from grace.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #alastor #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel fanfiction #fraugwinskawrites #angst #trigger warnings #minors d #minors don't look #minors dont touch #yes I'm crying #you're crying too #we all cry here #no judgement #quickf #quickfic

[russellsppttemplates]

We can all agree that our little gremlin boy Lan has a big head, don't we? Like we love him, he's cute(hot af too), but boy was blessed with a big head 😅 so I just had the funniest scene of his wife complaining to him about his big head while drowned in hormones when she's pregnant with Tilly. Like really complaining, but laughing at the same time, and maybe his sisters or max and P are cackling while he tries not to laugh too much not to hurt her feelings,but they all end up having a laughing fit together 😆

Note: when I was a baby, my head was so big that I had to get a series of tests and scans to rule out any problems! In the doctor's words, fortunately, the only problem I would have was finding a hat that fits! So I relate to this very much - also, absolutely agree with all you've said!

Cw: reader is pregnant

The annual Norris family summer vacation was well underway by the time you decided which days you wanted to spend on the boat, Oliver and Savannah staying inside with the girls along with Adam and Cisca who decided they would make lunch for everyone.

"Do you know what I have just realised?", you spoke to Flo as you both watched Lando and Cisca's boyfriend jump into the water, "your brother has a massive head - like, it's really big, specially when you compare to Max's", you pointed to your husband's best friend.

That morning, you cried about the fact that your bikini dug on your hips only for Lando to tell you that you hadn't tired the sides properly and that you had more than enough room to accommodate your growing body, so right now this was a way better way to deal with the rush of hormones you were having.

"I think we all do, to be fair - Cisca has the smalled one I guess", Flo squinted as she looked at her sister who walked closer to you.

"Why are you looking at me like that?", Cisca wondered.

"I've just realised how big your brother's head is and how I'm probably going to be split apart when this little girl - little body but surely a big head - joins us", you rubbed your bump as tears formed in your eyes.

"Oh, Y/N, my friends have had babies with big heads and they're fine", Pietra offered, "they were just fine", she said before waving at Max so him and Lando could come to the rescue.

"I don't know why I'm crying, which makes this even worse - Goodness", you wiped your eyes and chuckled, "I can feel her head, it's about here from what I remember from the scans - and it's big, like, really big! How is that going to work?", you blurted.

"What's the matter? Is everything alright? Y/N, are you good? Is it Tilly?", Lando asked worriedly as he saw you break into a fit of giggles and seeing the girls fight their laughter a bit before joining.

"The matter is that you have a big head and Tilly's will also be big", you explained, "I'm not the tiniest person ever, so there's definitely room but can you imagine? I have to ask your mother how big your head was when you were born because I feel like I need to do prep work for it", you mused, "it's all natural until you decide to have a kid with the guy who has a big head".

"Oh, Y/N has gone dark", Max muttered, earning himself a swat on his forehead from Pietra, "what? Did I lie?", he hissed, containing his laughter.

"I'm not sure what you'd like me to do here, my love", Lando admitted, sitting next to you and attempting to squeeze your thigh lovingly, knowing the affectionate gesture could go both ways.

"Our baby is making me feel like I have the emotional and cognitive skills of a toddler", you mumbled as you cuddled your husband, supporting your bump with a pillow Flo got for you as you both layed down.

"It's okay, Y/N, I don't mind having to reason with you - we'll consider this practice for when we have our little one, okay beautiful?", Lando kissed your forehead.

(Thank you for sending this in ✨️)

#lando norris blurb #inês writes blurbs #f1 blurb #f1 x reader

[petermorwood]

Parsnip soup - the garnish recommended by Terry Pratchett for adding character to a beloved copy of "Good Omens"...

...has appeared in a couple of posts, first here and then, when @dduane decided to make some, here.

She didn't use any of the recipes I'd posted but literally cooked up something slightly different off the cuff, and it is (trending rapidly to was) delicious!

Full info on DD's blog here. It's not so much a recipe as an illustrated step-by-step.

*****

NB, that post doesn't mention, because her IBS meant she didn't include, the chopped half onion and two minced cloves of garlic sautéed in smoked-roast-bacon fat which I added to my batch. It's just fine without them, but IMO is even better with, if non-dodgy digestion permits.

*****

Parsnips and carrots over here are, as her post says, all too often mashed, one of the great culinary non-delights of my childhood. They're frequently sold together for that purpose, either raw or pre-cooked...

...and it's a pleasure to find them specifically meant for roasting...

...though I can handle a peeler, a knife and a selection of seasonings well enough not to need to buy them like this.

The soup was sampled two ways, first in its basic form as roasted veggies and roasted smoked belly pork...

...cut into spoon-size pieces and simmered in a light but quite spicy broth (there was a fumble when shaking on the chillis!)

After that DD made flour-and-butter dumplings (Middle Kingdoms style) which absorbed some broth and made the soup a bit thicker.

Both, as I've already said, are - soon to be were - very good indeed.

10 / 10, will make again.

#food and drink #parsnip soup #parsnips #roasted parsnips #roasted bacon #dumplings #Neil Gaiman #GNU Terry Pratchett #Good Omens novel

[dazed-and-confused23]

Dear Hearts and Gentle People 8

Summary: Cooper and his wandering trader come across a dangerous wasteland baby, and it's a good thing they're both a little crazy or he didn't think they could pull this off.

Pairings: The Ghoul | Cooper Howard x Female Reader

Warnings. Mhm. None this time? Just a fun Lil chapter

Masterlist

It's the sound of soft chirping that grabs your attention. You've been listening to it for the past ten minutes, and it's only grown louder the further you walk east. You look over your shoulder at Cooper, who rolls his eyes and catches up to you. He thinks that you're too curious for your own good. Shit would get you killed one of the days.

"We ain't gotta check out every sound we hear, smoothskin," He grumbles, but you won't be budged. You unfortunately had a bit of a bleeding heart when it came to animals, and you wouldn't leave this one without help either.

"Just a quick look. If it's fine, then we can go," She assures her ghoulish companion, and Cooper curses the sky, but follows after his smoothskin nonetheless.

You wind around some burnt out buildings and come to a sudden halt when you spot what's been making all the noise. Fear chokes you for half a second as you take in the carcass of a massive deathclaw. It's dark horns curving back and away from its long face, and you recognize it as a female. A dead one.

Cooper grabs you by the collar when you take a step forward, his dark eyes furious as he halts you, "The hell do you think you're doin', girl?"

"It's dead, Cooper," she snapped right back and shrugged out of her jacket, leaving it dangling from the ghoul's hand. You inch forward and peak over the bead body, only to come face to face with the cuties little wasteland baby you'd ever see. Your heart melts at the sight, and you round the carcass to crouch by the baby deathclaw.

"Cooper, it's horns haven't even grown in yet," you coo and watch the sandy colored baby chirp and cry. Its stubby legs waddling closer and closer to where you're crouched. You want to scoop it up and cuddle it close, but you aren't that irresponsible.

The ghoul shuts his eyes and prays to any deity that would listen to give him strength and patience to deal with you today. He closes the distance and squats beside you, eyes narrowed in on the dumb beast that takes two steps before tripping on its tail and falling face first into the sand.

"We should kill it. It won't survive out here without its momma," Cooper says and stands up to draw his side arm, pointing the barrel at the little ones head. The deathclaw is saved by his smoothskin, placing a hand in the weapon and lowering it, and he looks over to see a calculating, shit eating grin playing across your lips.

He knows what you're thinking with just a glance, and a great sigh explodes out of his lungs, "This is a terrible idea, Sweetheart."

You scoff and dig in your backpack, retrieving some wrapped chunks of meat that you toss to the baby. The deathclaw coos and chops or up, and they get a good look at the dangerous teeth inside its tiny mouth. Still hungry, the baby chirps and toddles over to sit in front of you, its reptilian eyes begging for more.

You grin and toss it the rest of the meat, glancing back up to Cooper to see him shaking his head.

"I think it's a wonderful idea," you say and then reach out to carefully pat the baby deatbclaw on the head, "Welcome to the club, Dusty."

*notes.* this was inspired by some lovely fanart by a couple of artists here on Tumblr. I couldn't find their named but I wanted to give credit where credit is due! ❤️*

#cooper howard #fallout #fallout prime #fallout tv series #cooper howard x reader #x reader #the ghoul x reader #dear hears and gentle people #deathclaws

[myloveismineallmine]

okay apparently watcher released an apology so here's my thoughts (not asked for):

it was decent, as far as youtube apologies go. I don't understand why people are now saying that people overreacted when we probably wouldn't have gotten an apology if no one said anything? like being critical of things is okay, you know? and in this case it led to the right outcome.

I also don't think it's wrong that people started criticizing the content at watcher. especially after being told they had to pay for it, like you're gonna become more critical of things when you're being asked to pay money for it instead of it being free. and when the product is becoming more expensive to produce but it ends up being less entertaining, that is not a good thing (*cough* ghost files)

watcher 100% needs someone to budget their money, idk who is in charge of it now, but they really don't seem to be doing a good job. production is expensive, but you cannoooot be making projects as if you have a disney/warner brothers type budget when you're an indie studio. even with the streaming service money, this will still be an issue. they're trying to grow their company way too fast, and it will lead to them going under completely if they're not careful. you can't rely on the fans to bail you out when you make bad choices.

also, they need other on-screen talent. like the try guys have been struggling for awhile now, but at least they were smart enough to get people like kwesi and johnny to be new cast members. ryan and shane are 1000% burnt out, they need other talent. I remember they had a show with one of the staff members(?) but it only lasted 3 episodes and then they just stopped it. obv it didn't get as many views, but you need to build an audience and that takes more than 3 episodes to do. if they want to actually produce more content (which would help make more money and make their huge staff actually make sense) they need new people to be on screen. look at dropout/GMM/smosh. bigger casts, way more output. putting steven and andrew as hosts is actually a good choice i think, but sadly they're choosing to have them host one of the most expensive shows to produce. when you're making food content, why are you starting with the pricey international restaurants? start at del taco or something. build a bigger audience to justify the costs. look at eat the menu; the first episode was literally taco bell, and five years later, NOW they're doing fine dining. because they can put more money into it, because they KNOW it's one of their more profitable shows.

idk. acting like there still isn't problems is so strange to me. they apologized, that's a good thing, but it doesn't solve all the issues that have been brought to the forefront as a result of this whole debacle.

#i also recommend cr1tikals video on the subject because he is brutally honest about how much money youtube channels make #i don't completely buy the 'youtube is not giving us enough money woe is me' act #esp w/ patreon and merch and live show profits #idk. remain critical of internet personalities i guess #watcher

[belle--ofthebrawl]

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 2.6k

Pairing: Ifrit/Rain, mentions of Ifrit/Dewdrop/Rain

Tags: Public Masturbation, Semi-public blowjobs, possessive behavior, Cuckolding, kink denial on Dew's part but it's fine he's fine it's fine they're all fine.

Summary:

"Dewdrop." He finishes stupidly.

Rain shrugs, a strap of his camisole falling down one shoulder with the motion.

"My Dewdrop…" he muses, tracing patterns on Ifrit's thigh. "I like the sound of that."

Ifrit doesn't remember how the night began and he's certain he won't remember how it ends but that doesn't matter right now. Right now he's got a nice buzz going, a nice grassy spot under a tree to stare at the sky and his hand wrapped around his cock because hey. Why not.

If he concentrates, he can hear the others by the bonfire, still whooping and hollering as they dance and fight and fuck. He could join them but that would mean moving more than just his hand across his dick and he's not really feeling it right now. More interested in feeling himself. Maybe one of the others will stumble across, offer their own hand or mouth or even more but for now, Ifrit's intent on a little self-love.

There's no point in saying he's not vain because he absolutely is. This physical form had been good-looking to start with and when he found out he could modify it? Just by moving around or getting inked up? Siblings were practically lining up at the gate for his, heh, personal attention in the gym as a trainer. He was completely focused and professional during classes. But once that session was up? They knew where to find him.

Wasn't just the human Clergy either. Mist liked it when he wrestled with her, winner take all. Alpha needed the occasional beatdown too and Omega was perfect for when he wanted his ankles by his ears and a fat cock pushing so far into his guts he could taste it.

Just thinking about it made a pretty pearl of cum bead up from his tip. He smears it over the ruddy head with his thumb, rolls his hips as he toys with the slit and thinks about the others.

Dew was so cute to rile up. He could get spitting mad over some teasing and all Ifrit would have to do was look down and see where all the blood went. Only made the little guy madder, but all Ifrit had to do to apologize was kiss it until it was all better and the flush on Dew’s face was from pleasure and not fury.

Been a while since they hooked up, Ifrit thinks. A little bittersweetness lies in the memories, how Dew had found himself wrapped up in a new role and a new pack while Ifrit was left behind but he doesn't hold a grudge. Just wishes they could meet up again, see if he still has a temper or he’s gotten it under control. Ifrit's seen the way that multi-ghoul needles him, nothing short of a masterpiece there. He’d love to team up with him to make Dew cry sometime and his cock throbs in agreement.

Then there's that pretty water ghoul. Rain. Ifrit's been dying to get to know him all kinds of ways. See if he gets as wet as Dew used to, before his transition. He saw the two of them earlier, before the party really got going and okay, they looked good together. Dew looked downright snappy whenever someone tried to lure Rain away and that was just adorable. Like a dragon angrily guarding the first shiny trinket of its horde.

Monogamy isn't really a thing to the ghouls. Why would it be? Still, sometimes they can get possessive over each other. Dew's definitely got the worst case of it Ifrit's ever seen over Rain. He'd curled himself tight around the water ghoul, scenting him something fierce. Ifrit could pick it up from halfway across the field. And okay, it was a little cute. New love, and all that.

He blinks. Right, that's how he came to be here pumping his dick. He got so caught up in the vision of Dew and Rain and their entangled limbs, combined with the noises of a few threesomes happening, his mind laid out a beautiful picture of himself sandwiched between the two of them. Maybe he could coach Rain on how best to rile up Dew, get his little cock as red as his face. What to say to make his brow furrow even as he huffs out a too-quick orgasm.

Speaking of…

His balls already tight, Ifrit lets himself go and sighs at the way it aches when he does. He's got better stamina but he's been here a while, whatever he drank is working its dirty little magic on him and the night is still young. Wouldn't want to wear himself out too quickly.

If he listens, he can hear Mist crying in that perfect way she does when someone's licking her cunt and someone else is doing her gills. Belial, she's cute. Maybe he just has a thing for water ghouls, but who wouldn't with all their sensitivities and tendencies to get so wet. Maybe he should get up and join them, attack her gills from the other side and really get her going, get a few fingers stuffed up her cunt, make her squirt like she always does. His hand wraps around himself again and before he knows it, he's got his tongue in Rain's gills instead, frenching him from the inside while he bounces on Ifrit's lap, claws digging into his shoulders. Feeling Rain gasp for air as he creams around Ifrit's cock, Dew’s eyes dark with fury.

“You look like you're having fun.” Comes a soft voice and Ifrit chuckles, squeezing the base of his cock.

“Just thinking about you.” He says honestly, cracking his eye to peer at Rain. He looks good tonight. Always looks good but this is the first time Ifrit's seen him in something other than his uniform, a pair of light blue shorts that skim the tops of his thighs and a sleeveless shirt with thin straps and thinner fabric. Ifrit’s eyes lazily slide up and then firmly look back down, no shame. Dew’s not here to hiss and snarl, Ifrit's going to take advantage. As much as Rain will let him.

“We’ve never been properly introduced.” Rain muses, coming closer. “I know your name though. Seen you around. Seen some footage.”

“Do you like what you see?” Ifrit asks, angling himself so Rain can get an eyeful of his body, toned muscles and cock on full display. Like before. He's not shy about his own vanity. He half expects his confidence to intimidate the quiet water ghoul but Rain…Rain laughs at him. No one's ever laughed at Ifrit before.

He doesn't know if he likes it or not.

“Dew said you were cocky.” He drops to his hands and knees, tail coiling behind him. His eyes narrow as he comes up between Ifrit's thighs and smiles with a little too much fang for comfort. “He wouldn't be happy if he knew I was with you.”

“Then why are you here anyway?” Ifrit asks bluntly, trying to regain a foothold in the strange shift that he's pretty sure just happened.

“Because sometimes it's better to ask for forgiveness than permission.” Rain tells him with a nip to his skin that sends Ifrit reeling. No way this is happening. He can still smell Dew on Rain's clothes, smoke and anger and lust. So much lust.

"Isn't Dewdrop your, uh…" Boyfriend is the first word that comes to mind but it doesn't feel right. Too human, too exclusive. Packmate would be the best option yet it still feels too casual for whatever the hell those two have going on. He and Dew were packmates and they were never so touchy-feely as he is with Rain. He vaguely remembers Dew getting a little weird about Aether when he was first summoned but it still had nothing on how he behaved now. Rain seems to humor it and continue to do his own thing when Dew's not looking but he still doesn't want to get on the little guy's bad side and ruin any possibilities.

"Dewdrop." He finishes stupidly.

Rain shrugs, a strap of his camisole falling down one shoulder with the motion.

"My Dewdrop…" he muses, tracing patterns on Ifrit's thigh. "I like the sound of that."

His fingers tickle dangerously high and Ifrit squirms against the tree.

"Well," Rain continues thoughtfully, casually wrapping his hand around the base of Ifrit's cock, hiding the sudden flare of his tattoos as he begins to stroke him slowly. "My Dewdrop said he didn't want you touching me. So don't touch me. And we'll be alright."

Ifrit feels far from alright at this moment in time, but then Rain's bowing to dab his soft tongue to the underside and he can't find it in him to argue. The first gentle lap hits him harder than a punch, the second, somehow even worse. Rain entertains himself with Ifrit's cock like he's got all the time in the world; sliding the foreskin to and fro over the ridge, mouthing at the tip and going even lower to fit both of Ifrit's balls in his mouth. Going back up and rubbing his cheek against the head to smear the beads of pre cum all across his face.

"These are pretty," he remarks, so casual as if he was admiring a garden or a display of jewelry. Ifrit doesn't even know what he's talking about at first until Rain starts tracing the outline of his tattoos with his tongue. He got them done months ago, glyphs written and designed to further pleasure a partner. Maybe one or two thrown in so no matter how he thrusts, he always hits the best spots.

"Enchanted?" He asks, looking at Ifrit with his dark eyes, pressing a kiss to the shaft. Ifrit nods stupidly, fingers curling in the grass to keep from grabbing Rain's head and pushing him down again, make that pretty mouth drool with how Ifrit would fuck it.

"Thought so." Rain says with satisfaction. "I like the way it tingles when I touch them. Must feel good to get fucked by a cock like this."

"I've had no complaints." Ifrit gasps as Rain lays his tongue flat to slap his cock against it. He's such an active participant in his past flings that it feels off-putting to just sit here and let himself be…be toyed with. He doesn't even think Rain's blinked once since settling between his thighs and it's unnerving.

"When Dew calms down a bit," Rain starts, moving Ifrit's cock this way and that to admire all of his tattoos as they glow. "With this whole possessive thing. Maybe I'll ride it."

"Fuh-" Ifrit hisses as a large blurt of precum oozes out of his slit. Rain drinks it down then goes even further, opening his jaw for Ifrit to easily slide in without grazing any fangs. "Fucking, oh, oh that's good."

He's so pent up from touching himself earlier, thinking he wouldn't have to worry about stamina. Now he's got Rain making the sweetest, choked noises as he fucks his face on Ifrit's dick, nice and sloppy, getting his saliva all over Ifrit's balls while he gags on it. Ifrit's tearing up handfuls of grass as Rain brutalizes his own throat, moaning and trying to stifle his moans at the same time, lest Dewdrop catch them in the act and get royally pissed off.

Rain would probably just kiss him with a mouth of Ifrit's cum, his brain offers up and it's over.

He cums with a pained noise, faster than he'd like to but again he’d been working himself up decently beforehand and if he knew Rain was going to go to town on him, he would have saved his stamina. He tries to warn Rain with a stuttered exclamation as his body locks up. Rain just pulls away to tug at his cock and Ifrit starts praying Rain will put it back in his mouth and swallow but he keeps pumping his hand at first. Aims so the first spray lands thick over his eyelashes, the second glossing his full lips, smearing the head around before kissing it and pushing down to take Ifrit in, letting him finish directly down his tight throat.

“Fuck!” Ifrit shouts, hitting his head on the tree when he throws it back, trying to fuck Rain's mouth for the last few flexes of his cock. Rain keeps still, lets his jaw hang open as Ifrit pushes his cum back in as it drools out, relishing the slide of Rain’s tongue on his skin even as he slips into oversensitivity and the friction is too much. Rain lets him go with a final kiss and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand as he sits up tucking a lock of hair behind his ear. Ifrit's cum is dabbed off Rain’s eyelashes with his ring finger, also licked clean. There's something almost feline about him as he does it, looking so beautiful in the fractured moonlight coming down from between the branches.

"Can I," Ifrit starts. "Do you…anything?" He sounds stupid to himself and can't even imagine what he sounds like to Rain, staring down at him with a passive, unreadable expression.

"I already got mine." He says carelessly, flopping back and spreading his thighs to show off the wet fabric of his tight little shorts clinging to his cunt. Ifrit swallows thickly, eyes riveted on the way he drags his fingers softly over it. He can see the way they bump over the shape of his swollen clit and Ifrit moans right along with Rain when he rubs the tip of it.

"Swiss and Aether." He tells Ifrit, a subtle lift at the corners of his mouth. He raises a leg and uses the motion to flip himself over, lifting his tail to reveal another damp spot just underneath that's slowly drooled out enough cum to combine with the first one.

"Mountain."

Ifrit practically convulses with the longing stab of arousal the sight gives him, wheezing as Rain wiggles his shorts down to give him a better look at his well-used holes, swaying his hips and letting them gape for the briefest of moments, before shimmying his clothes back on and doing something elegant and twisted that results in him standing up, hand on his hip. Looking down at Ifrit with an amused little smile.

“Dew always forgives me if I confess everything. Helps to give him a demonstration too…So he knows what he missed out on.” It's said in such a blaisè tone for all the heavy implications in the words, Ifrit can't quite believe what he just heard. Just stares open mouthed at Rain with his soft cock wilting against his thigh and his ears ringing. Rain covers his laugh and leans close. Lets Ifrit get a nice view of his tits down his top as he takes two fingers, the two he'd touched himself with, and pets Ifrit's tongue. Before he knows what he's doing, he closes his lips around them and sucks, shivering at the faint taste of salt and sex.

“You're cute.” Rain says. “I hope I get to play with you again.”

He tries to say something but what exactly he wants to say he doesn't know. It just comes out as a stupid little uh-huh around Rain’s fingers as he withdraws them. He chases them but then Rain’s giving him a little head shake, wiping them on Ifrit's cheek and he falls back, defeated and stunned. Rain giving him that mischievous little smile the whole time.

“See you ‘round.” He says, tapping those same two fingers against his eyebrows, giving Ifrit a lazy salute. The fingers go from his temple to his mouth, where Rain spreads them and licks lasciviously in between with a wicked little wink before turning and walking off, leaving Ifrit to stare at the way his hips swing in well fucked and insouciant little half circles. How he's not limping is beyond anyone's guess.

“Damn…” he wheezes, head hitting the trunk. “Just… damn.”

What a night.

#Ifrit x rain #rain x dewdrop #ifrit x rain x dewdrop #nsft #cw cucking #damn i actually finished it really quick. that means there's something wrong with it.

[leidensygdom]

ENNU EPILOGUE RECAP!!

OKay! So, our campaign ended! Yesterday was the 81 session, and last one of it- Our DM did a wonderful job at running it. We basically got to ask them for the scenes we'd like to see, and the session was built around that. It's been three years, so it was wild to see it come to an end! Here's a recap tho (a lil bit more focused on my blorbos since they're the ones you know)

The epilogue happened two years after the campaign's end, with a couple of flashbacks going some time back

First scene was welcoming Blasma (one of the party members), who had been on a trip all this time to heal her soul at her grandpa's dubious laboratory. She's pretty okay currently- if we ignore soul healing is something theoretically impossible. Probably many questionable things happened there. Osten traveled with her to make sure she was doing okay

Next scene was her welcoming party. A bunch of shenanigans happened. Yxala tried so play cool aunt, got her a motorbike. They ended in somewhat odd terms and my girl was trying so bad to get her trust again

Pulsar and Tephra- each polycule's kids- appeared to be overall terribly adorable. Yxala talked a lot about her Sweet Potato. Tephra is Yxala and Relé's biological kiddo (as evidenced by the branched horns), 6 months old, and just one of these big hefty babies who is starting to munch on everything (here's a token of baby her, and what she's like grown up!)

we also got to see the closure of Mythannae, Yden and Jorven's polycule! Myth and Yden recovered their enchanted clothing business. They specialize in magical clothing adapted to specific needs- Like fireproof clothing for fire genasi, helmets with bag-of-holding like pockets so you can put them on with horns, that stuff. Jorven has now been working on music again. (For context, Myth was my previous character before I switched for Yxala!)

Blasma's player also had an epilogue for his previous character- she's a tired old lady, who is now joining another tired old lady to get in politics. An improvement, given they were cops before that

Centi got to resurrect the weird celestial wife of an old teacher of hers- Who had been snatched up by Sol Ascensus and transformed into a monster. I can't wait to show Niereva to y'all tho, she's a bit of a weird aminal (a mantis/naga-like aasimar)

She may have done a fucked up pact with a psychopomp tho-

We had Yxala's, Relent's and Uri's wedding, we knew that was coming! It took Urion a long while to recover from after the Deep Lab, and they still struggle a lot with that they did as The Onirist

We had a scene of Urion's recovery. Initially they didn't even want to come to terms with being Urion- They were The Onirist. Relé had a hard time forgiving them too, bc they DID hurt Relent a lot. Yxala was a bit more fine about it, even after having her heart carved out by them.

they're all going to therapy lol

There's actually a cult to The Onirist/Ataraxia now though! Some people loved the idea of a godly machine that could solve everyone's hurts and ailments, and they're asking for them to come back and fix the world. maybe the mind control microchips were fine, y'know

(uri isn't doing great about this)

We had the ceremony- Money and seeds are given to the partners as a sign of prosperity and life. They're gonna have a great garden.

The polycule drank (alcohol-free) wine imbued with each other's blood too bc ceremonies there go hard- (this one is seen as a bit more archaic)

And a major exchange between marrying partners is expected. They exchanged basses- They had them custom made many decades ago, with Urion's being based on clouds (after Relé), Relé's being based on fire (after Yxala), and Yxala's being based on bismuth crystals (after Uri's). Now Uri has the fiery bass, Relé has the bismuth one, and Yxala has the cloudy bass

Urion was the bassist for Demonwire, a group they were a part of with some other anarchist friends. This bass has a very long history and it's very significative. Yxala was a bit shocked.

After that, the wedding after-party took place. Blasma set a date with Osten- They didn't actually get romantically involved up until now (and it's probably gonna be very slow still gfhudhdgf)

I forgot to mention this but Urion and Relent are now involved with an organization to help the people who were affected by the Deep Lab and The Onirist's actions. Uri had a very awkward interview about it.

We had few other closure scenes here and there. Finding out two other npcs are marrying, the fact the weird undead guy somehow has a new kid, that stuff- and then we went onto the final one

Which was a concert by Demonwire. Urion played with them for the first time in 12 years, and gave an awkward speech, and it was super sweet and just a great point to end the campaign in!

With that, we're now set to go play the next campaign- Which will happen 8 years after this epilogue (ten years after the end of the major campaign events). I'm going to be playing Siegmund, one of Yxala's kids, and I'm very excited for that.

Yxala won't be doing any major stuff- She's gonna still go fight corpos in the streets and she's going back to the Mecha Derby (did y'all know she was a mecha pilot in a sports competition lmao. I'm working on her pilot fit, it's cool!). Urion is going to be back on Demonwire, mostly to raise funds for those hurt by The Onirist and Ataraxia, and will have a bigger role coming up- Specially given Siegmund's (and Vyxander, his twin) have a lot to do with that. Relent will also be doing some major stuff, but it will remain spoilery for a time. He's got some big things to handle!

I may have cried a bit at the end because it's been so long. I'm glad the characters won't be fully gone. Next campaign will have a lot more lore stuff to gush about- We're going to adventure outside the city, and meet people from all over the world. There's a country that uses souls in place of nuclear fission. It's gonna be wild! (And thank you for reading-)

#ennu #long post

[happypotato48]

GMMTV 2024 PART 2 Unhinged Tangent Thoughts (Only The Queers Though)

Ossan’s Love Thailand รักนี้ให้ "นาย": oh here we go again for the third times. i'm still skeptical about it and Chakrit Yamnam definitely is not an ossan yet but... damnnnnn my inner slut for older men sense is tingling, i know gmmtv just gonna keep doing this boring BL idol pairs nonsense, but like can we get more older gays/age gap BLs? i haven't seen Chakrit in ages and that man still so damn fine! he and our honorary uncle earth could've been something that thai BL is currently lacking, a sloppy hotmess Daddies. but alas that will remain a dream for now.

The ​Heart Killers เขาจ้างให้ผมจีบนักฆ่า: i haven't watch the Eclipse yet and really didn't liked both Star In My Mind and Hidden Agenda and definitely never gonna watch Only Friend (seen all the sex scenes though.) i loved the chaotic energy the trailer giving and i'm always a sucker for black comedy (don't know if this show gonna be that but fingercrossed) when it done correctly. also this show better serve us so many leather bad boy looks. i may have not be completely sold on this show yet, but i'm horny for it.

สายรหัสเทวดา Perfect10 Liners: "Too Many Cooks repeated for several minutes" i'm going to be there for forcebook and juniormark but like wtf in frash glee hell is this, most of these mofos are pushing 30. let them be adults god danm it, i know that the target demographic for gmmtv is young adults and teenagers and that they really love/good at??? school settings. but come on let's our peter pans and wendies fly free. they're probably bored out of their fucking minds by now.

Us รักของเรา | GMMTV 2024 PART 2: i'm gonna be a good little homo and let's all the great wlws do all the talking for this show. i'm not keen on the sibling's lover stealing trope but hey as the great Lucille Bluth one said, good for her.

Thame - Po (เธม-โป้): HEART THAT SKIPS A BEAT: hehehe, Est is so pretty, ok i'm sold i'm easy like that. i was never into any boy bands as a teen, but there like a lot of former thai boy bands members that came out as gay in recent years so maybe i shouda had. anywhoo i probably not gonna mind the singing and dancing in this show since most of them going to be done by singers/dancers and not actors turned idols.

REVAMP THE UNDEAD STORY: i'm really not into serious vempires so this show is kinda meh for me. the goofy ones though those i'd have eat up. this one probably a pass for me.

แฟนที่ทันตแพทย์ส่วนใหญ่แนะนำ Sweet Tooth, Good Dentist: all my blorbos are here we get mark, baby ohm, poon, and หมอjim. ahhhhhhh!! i need it now. i also don't mind dentists like most people especially when they're good looking guys, those handsome doctors can put anything in my mouth😉

เพราะแฟนเก่าเปลี่ยนแปลงบ่อย The Ex-Morning: is this going to be our second coming BL? idk i never there for first one 😝this show either going to be a good meta commentary about the whole business that gone down or its head going be so up it own ass that will take several bottles of lube to get the head out to see the sunlight. we'll see.

#thai bl #bl drama #gmmtv #gmmtv 2024 #dumb b #dumb boy unhinged thoughts

[tokyo-debunkers-headcanons]

can I get a frostiem boys with a super shy ™️ mc!?!? I really enjoy your hcs btw ^^!!

Thank you so much! Thank you all for reading them! I'm gonna take these hcs in more of a romantic context just be aware!

JIN KAMURAI

Jin is used to people, typically girls, acting all shy around him. He never expected his partner to be shy as well.

He himself isn't really a shy guy. He keeps to himself sure, but he's got too much cash money and charisma to be shy.

He doesn't mind doing the talking for his partner as well if they need it, but there are times when his patience is a little shorter than other days, so watch out.

He doesn't really like PDA so don't expect any gossip about that, he's more affectionate behind closed doors when its just him and them. What can I say, man likes his privacy.

TOHMA ISHIBASHI

Tohma finds his partners shyness quite cute actually. It brings out a protectiveness in him.

Seeing as he does most things for Jin, he doesn't mind adding his partners wishes onto that playe but please, give this mans a break every now and then.

He will 100% tease them and make them turn tomato red for the hell of it, let's be fair.

Here's another one that isn't necessarily into PDA but he's fine with hand holding while they both walk somewhere or carrying things for his partner.

KAITO FUJI

This is one that clashes a little bit. We all know Kaito is a loud mouth so as soon as he found himself a partner, we all know he's screaming it from the rooftops. If his partner asked him to knock it off however....let's just say he'd do his best.

Kaito thinks he wants like a Disney Channel movie type of romance. Big gestures, matching outfits, pet names, etc. So I think a shy partner would be a bit of a challenge.

There would need to be a LOT of communication for him to finally tone it down to suit his partners pace. He will however listen to their criticism, doing his best not to take it to heart, and actually take their concerns seriously.

He may be a goof, but I'm sure his granny made sure he knew how to respect someone's boundaries. But when his partner isn't there, he will sing their praises, no matter what.

LUCAS ERRANT "LUCA"

I think Luca would be one of the easier ones to adjust to having a shy partner. He's not really an attention seeker. He's more focused on his brother than anything else.

If anything, i think he'd be even more protective of his partner than normal. Making sure that they're okay and that they'll be okay of he's not there.

He always has his phone ringer on in case their partner needs something, even if it's small. If his partner needs help then he's gonna help damnit! Even of it's just ordering food at the cafeteria!

As for PDA, he's too proper, and I'm sure that DA has some kind of rule against PDA, so he wouldn't want to risk it. He will however hold their hand with a smile. At the end of the day he'd do anything if it meant the safety and happiness of his partner.

#tokyo debunker #frostheim #headcanons #jin kamurai #tohma ishibashi #kaito fuji #lucas errant #luca #i realized i may have forgotten to tag the last post or two #damn it smol #oh well

[cantfuckbracket]

CAN'T FUCK BRACKET... 2!

(If you didn't participate last year, check out this post for a more coherent explanation)

[ID: A diagram full of ups and downs that say "we are so back" and "it's so over" respectively. Overlaid with it is the unfuckable pride flag. End ID]

Somehow, it's been a year since the beginning of the competition that proclaimed Lord Farquaad the ultimate unfuckable. And as threatened, I mean, promised, I am doing it again this year!

It is time for everyone to fight tooth and nail for their unfuckable faves, or their beloathed nemesises that make all the pussies clamp shut!

You can use this form to submit as many characters as you want, so long as you observe the rules of unfuckability:

Last year's contestants are only eligible if they did not make it past the group stage. Meaning, anyone who was on round 1 is inegilible, but characters who made it to the group stage and didn't advance are fair game. That's right, there's still time for a redemption arc for Reigen Arataka or Jiang Cheng! Although it seems the latter wouldn't deserve it. Thankfully, the world isn't fair. So check that your submission isn't featured in this post to make sure they're eligible!

NO Goofy. I can't go through that again

No real people unless they've been dead for at least 100 years. That's right, the criteria is looser this year! Unlike th- [i am shot]

"Being dead" is not in itself a reason to be considered unfuckable, otherwise this would become a deadguybracket 2.0. It's fine if that's mentioned but it can't be the only reason

The same applies to being ace and/or voluntarily celibate. This is for characters who CAN'T fuck, not characters who DON'T WANT to. Some people, however, fall into both categories, and that's okay 💖

"Can't fuck" can mean both "could never find a willing partner" and "would suck shit ass in bed". It's up to you

Just like last year, the whole point of this is propaganda, so you are legally required to start bloodbaths! (But practice common sense when interacting with actual real breathing people such as myself and the person campaigning for your adversary, please) Feel free to tag me in anything you create!

You can submit as many characters/historical figures as you want, but this year the amount of submissions will be part of the criteria to be accepted, so make sure you get other interested people to submit too! I am ready for the 300 Reigen submissions, I promise. (This is, obviously, my ploy to get Tumblr famous. Really though, last year many people submitted 73637383 characters and then only got involved with one of them, so I want to make sure people are actually interested in these characters this year)

And that's all, folks! Hope you're excited because I sure as hell am!

Submit characters here

#CFB2024 #psas #rules #announcements

[sage-nebula]

Once again I will make a longer post about Watcher's apology video when I have the time to sit down at my computer and type it (I'm on mobile right now because I'm about to have dinner), but I do want to quickly address something I've seen crop up a lot this weekend:

A lot of people have been insisting things along the lines of:

"No one asked for higher production"

"We were fine with blue and yellow text"

"Go back to Buzzfeed style"

"Ghost Files sucks, Unsolved was better"

And so on. While I'm not going to say I'm a huge fan of Ghost Files (it's my least favorite of the five Watcher shows I follow), I also wasn't a huge fan of BU Supernatural; I preferred True Crime since it was about things that had actually happened, just as I prefer Mystery Files now. (Oops, are my skeptic tendencies showing?)

Regardless, the thing I want to address here is that Watcher Entertainment — and Ryan and Shane, specifically — taking on a new format for their show isn't really about the audience. I mean, to some degree it is — they need people to watch so they can make money — but it's also about what they, as artists, want to make. And they don't want to make a show where they're seated behind a table with blue and yellow text. They want to make a show where they LARP living in a bunker with a red nuclear landline phone.

And that's okay.

Sometimes the content an artist wants to make differs from what their original fans followed them for. Think of it in terms of musical artists; often artists will start out making one style of music and will pick up fans for that. Then three or four albums later their style will change because they grew as musicians, or wanted to experiment, or did a bunch of drugs, or a combination of those things. And their old fans find they hate this new style. And that's okay. It's fine to prefer the older albums. But it doesn't mean the band has to stop playing in the new style just because the old fans hate it, if the band truly likes what they're playing. Their feelings about their art matter, too.

And so that's where Shane and Ryan are with Ghost Files. It's fine if you, personally, preferred Unsolved Supernatural. But they, personally, seem to prefer Ghost Files. And since they're the ones making it, they get the final say on this one. I think that's fair. You can always still go back and watch old Unsolved Supernatural episodes. They're still around.

(As for me, well, they're not going to find ghosts no matter what format they use, so. I don't really care, lol. I just wish they'd not try to pretend some locations aren't ads when they clearly are. Looking at you, escape room episode. That was so lame.)

#watcher #watcher entertainment #buzzfeed unsolved #ghost files #shane madej #ryan bergara

[apostleofgreed]

It's here, the finale - my friends thoughts throughout Nona the Ninth (it's a long one)

Right which one of these idiots is stuck in Nona's body

Signs point to both

I think more likely Harrow and shes just removed the massive stick up her ass

Most other signs thus far do point to Gideon though- lack of aforementioned stick, finds herself attractive, loves ass jokes, wants to pet dogs (Harrow seems like a don't work with animals or children type)

Also these other kids have names like they're gonna be running in the fucking grand national

Honestly what the fuck is going on with child conception in this series???

Someone has five dads, God was asking if Harrow and Ianthe were being 'safe' sexually and I'm just confused

Okay so I've only listened to half an hour today but if Crown isn't coronabeth I will eat my own arm

My theory is that neither of them are in Harrow's body and that she's being possessed by The Body

Maybe I should follow in Harrow's footsteps and ask you to fucking lobotomize me

No beta we die like Babs

"what do you think is sexy?" "Eating breakfast" Me too, Camilla, me too

Maybe someone needs to lobotomize Judith, has anyone thought of that?

Thing is I feel like I'm supposed to think John is really bad and is the villain here but I just don't

The worst thing he's done is lie to his friends for a few thousand years

Finally, the baddest bitch in all the nine houses (it's Ianthe)

What a power move honestly first she steals Babs' soul now she steals his body, absolutely inspired

She could literally kill another 200 babies to resurrect Harrow and I'd be like what a babe 😍 at this point

I'm bored of shooting can we go back to swords and doing weird things with your body please

I just think it would be great if Harrow could hop back into her body and have a full meltdown about how to function in this world

Erm Corona darling can you please try to stop them bombing your sister in the body of one of your lifelong pals pls and thanks

Y'all better sTOp

Fucking marry, kill, reanimate I can't hahahaha

"that's not actually crown's boyfriend Nona, it's her sister but I don't think anyone could blame you for getting confused" Fair hahahahah so very true

Don't know how they think this is gonna work seeing as though Harrow and Ianthe literally lived together for like over a year and had an interpersonal relationship but ok

Maybe it's because pash has the accent of a rudeboy from Oldham and suffer is weirdly French (on disliking We Suffer and Pash)

Palamades in Ianthe in Babs is sending me west

Abigail died too soon and really she did all the legwork in Harrow

Can't help but feel all of this drama could have been avoided if Harry had just done the job properly in the first place and just let Gideon die properly

All of this just because an 18 year old gave herself the brain scramblies

Cam has just burst into fire wtf

Can't believe Crux hasn't dropped dead tbh

I've got less than an hour left I feel like we're cutting it fine to get Harry back in her body here

Big flex to be waiting for everyone to arrive smoking a ciggie with your golden skeleton arm

Fucking friendship bracelets and a secret handshake hahahahah

Gideon needs to stop being such a bloody himbo

Who has shouted "get in line thou big slut!" Hahahahah

There we have it, the full series. Hope y'all have enjoyed this.

#the locked tomb #tlt #nona the ninth #Nona #ianthe tridentarius #coronabeth tridentarius #harrowhark nonagesimus

[winterlogysblog]

Chapter 147 aka. Nakaba is torturing me

We started off fun. This is a really cute chapter cover.

Lowkey, I like how Nakaba shows the dynamics between everyone here. Like it's all just so wholesome.

I also want to specifically point this out. So, they're like oh Nasiens can stop Mertyl's coughing, let's get him out of pollen garden which is practically impossible and Zana just fuckin kicks it lol

So, they're gonna split up, Diane's gonna go get King, Mertyl is gonna stay with Tioreh and Nasiens and the other kids are gonna go to Sixtus.

Belte and Zana show extreme confidence that Sixtus can handle this and even say that with the amount of magic Sixtus has it is rumored that he'll be the next Fairy King, which is very interesting.

Then, we got the highly anticipated Sixtus fight. I necessarily wouldn't call it a fight.

During all this, Sixtus is more on defense than offense. Well he did attack them once but that's it, he played defense after. He's probably not taking this seriously.

We got another Magliastira form outta this. It's a freaking shield, I wonder how durable it is?

Sixtus even picks up the cloaks merging and is prepared to attack until he gets trapped in a Perfect Cube, which he surprisingly broke out of. Then this happened.

SIXTUS NOOOOO MY BBY BOY

Okay, being honest. I expected a Peril showing up here and with the way Nakaba is showing Sixtus a Peril will be the one who'll take him down which is already a high standard tbh.

Looking into this a bit more. Sixtus severely underestimated his opponent here, a complete lapse of judgement on his part. I do think the moment the cloaks merged into one is the moment he started taking the fight seriously. Not really he's probably still being playful, I mean look at this face.

But before he could really do anything, the Peril trapped him in a perfect cube and bounced 4 elements in there with Sixtus.

Bro broke through Perfect Cube which is an insane feat cause as far as I can remember the DK is the only one who managed to break it in 7ds.

Now Nakaba is evil because there's a break next week and he gave us this cliffhanger. Is he trying to kill me?!

A bunch of different scenarios could happen and the kids are definitely in trouble. If Sixtus managed to stay conscious after that stab, he'd definitely protect his siblings and tell them to run away and call their parents. He may just stay unconscious and Belte most likely be the first one to see it and based on how they're so proud of Sixtus' strength seeing him like that would scare them for sure, they might just run and go to King and Diane and tell them what happened or they'll go over there and save him. Most likely the latter.

Maybe this is just massive copium on my part but Sixtus should be fine. This whole scenario with Sixtus is actually a great way to transition him to the supporting cast. Sixtus now has a motivation to go out of the Fairy Realm and actively fight with the others. Also, Nakaba set up Sixtus way too hard for him to just die, Nakaba is not sick and twisted enough to do that, right? God I'm scared.

#Chapter commentary #Sixtus please be okay #he should be okay #if he dies I'll fly to Japan and strangle Nakaba #Chapter 147 #nanatsu no taizai #four knights of the apocalypse #4kota #nnt #seven deadly sins #mokushiroku no yonkishi #mokushiroku no yon kishi #nanatsu no taizai mokushiroku no yonkishi