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thesoftboiledegg · 7 months

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"Unmortricken" was a lot. In fact, it might have been a little too much.

To start, I loved the glimpse of what exists outside the Central Finite Curve. The visuals were stunning and reminded me of M.C. Escher's drawings. The Jetson-like family was a nice touch--if anything can happen, who says they can't have different animation styles? All those colorful portals make me wonder what's lurking just out of sight.

It's also funny that the space outside the Curve is full of Rick's favorite thing: crystals. If he took a trip there, he'd come back with his pockets stuffed with gemstones.

Evil Morty's reappearance gave us a decent character study. Since he wasn't the antagonist, we saw him interact with the C-137s as a regular person. Morty's a little impressed, and Rick has a grudging respect for him. Others have called Evil Morty the Rickest Morty, and I agree: similar intelligence, similar technology and similar bloodthirst.

I was glad that he left in the end because that's what his character arc is about anyway. He doesn't want to be part of anyone else's story, not even another Morty's.

However, that's also part of the issue that I had with this episode. Seeing Evil Morty was great, but it was also a little...pointless? You could've had the same story without him. He's not working with Prime, and he has no ties to C-137 after "Rickmurai Jack," so it felt like the writers just said "Hey, you know what would be cool?"

I'm not against writers having fun and giving the audience what they want. "Spider-Man: No Way Home" (yeah, groan at me, Marvel haters) is fan service in blockbuster form, and it was one of the best theater experiences I've ever had.

Still, if Evil Morty came back, I think he should've had a separate episode. The episode juggled C-137 Rick, Morty, Evil Morty and Prime Rick pretty well, giving them satisfying interactions with each other, but no Evil Morty would've meant more relationship development for the C-137s.

Evil Morty's backstory also didn't reveal much about him. I mean--yeah, we all figured that he had an abusive Rick and got fed up. The fact that he had a "regular" Rick instead of a deranged lunatic does make a point about the banality of abuse. Monsters aren't always raving maniacs who torture people in their basements. Ordinary people can wear you down with a slow drip of toxicity and neglect.

I enjoyed this episode, and Evil Morty's return was exciting, but cramming the series' two biggest antagonists and storylines into twenty minutes was a little overwhelming. New plot developments kept showing up, too: Rick found Prime! Prime's various lairs! Omega device! I would've preferred a two-parter.

I'll admit that if you told me that we'd see Evil Morty and Rick Prime in the same shot, I never would have believed you, but here we are.

On that note, Prime's characterization was perfect. No attempt at a cutesy, sad backstory; he's a laughing monster until the end. And is it really the end? He has regeneration abilities, but C-137 acts like he's dead and even gives up the search. This leaves us with a few options:

C-137 killed him.

Prime fooled C-137 into thinking that he's dead when he isn't.

C-137's keeping him alive for later use.

Hopefully, this is more complicated than it looks because I'll be disappointed if this is the end of Prime. He's a brilliant reflection of C-137: the Rick he'd be without his tiny shred of humanity.

And Prime's a maniac, but he tells C-137 the truth. Rick broke into Prime's house. He pretended he belonged with this group of strangers. He latched on to Prime's grandson because he never had his own. His brutal, violent streak never went away no matter how long he tried to play house.

Prime says "Admit it! You would have been me!" In season three and parts of season four, Rick was close. His love for his family--love that he pretended he didn't have--and desire for their approval just barely pulled him back. But what kept that spark alive? How close was he to becoming a cold, unfeeling shell?

In the end, C-137's not satisfied after he destroys Prime--and weirdly, I'm not satisfied, either. Beating Prime to an unrecognizable pulp doesn't bring Rick's original family back. It doesn't erase the atrocities that Rick's committed. It doesn't make his grief go away. It doesn't change the fact that Rick teetered on the edge of turning into the monster that he despised.

What's more satisfying is that Rick didn't turn out like Prime. His Morty doesn't give two shits about Prime, but he loves him. He hugs him in relief (come on, Rick, hug him back already!), cries out "Rick? Rick!" and shakes his body when he thinks he's dead, and talks excitedly as they return home.

Rick's going to therapy, which Prime would have mocked. He went from having nobody to living with FIVE kids if you count Morty and Summer. Even he and his Jerry are pretty tight.

Rick knows this, but he still feels empty all the time. Vengeance doesn't work, drinking doesn't work...wouldn't it be easier if he just switched off his humanity and laughed at everything, even his own death?

But now that he knows how it feels to be loved, especially by his hypothetical grandson, I think he'll always find himself at the Smiths' doorstep.

#rick and morty #rick sanchez #morty smith #prime rick #weird rick #rick prime #evil morty #boy that's quite the collection of tags #unmortricken #season seven #review

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bogleech · 10 months

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One smaller detail I liked in the new spiderverse is that the supervillain says a lot of things that are awkward and silly to the audience - not intentional "witty banter" on his part - and the spider's the men respond like normal people, actually addressing his dialog in a natural way. They also react to how weird he looks and even have things to say about the different art styles of the alternate universes.

I don't know how to describe this feeling that well, but I like the sense of characters actually being there with us? I hate to say it but this is one of "unscripted" comedies these days including, yes shows like Rick and Morty. Yes I do actually like that they casually chat about what's happening on-screen and make obvious observations that aren't always carefully crafted "jokes." Not because it's smart or funny or anything but because it is exactly what people do and the lack of it has always just bothered my brain I guess. It kind of takes me out of some media if characters go too long without showing that they actually see and hear what we do however mundane.

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latenightwestern · 5 months

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list of morty fears from fear no mort:

- being stuffed with maggots

- rick “hooking up” and being happy (theory)

- “being a useless, lonely turd” (more of an insult than a theory)

- watching rick die (theory i think)

- eating spiders

- not being accepted

- being responsible for ricks sadness

- that they’ll never get out because rick will never accept that he’s afraid

- the hole itself

- becoming his father

- rick not jumping after morty.

EDIT!! tacking on more fears after several rewatches and reading peoples’ takes on the ep:

- relying on rick (idk how i missed this one, it was literally the main one, the one fear hole guy called “delicious”)

- to add on to the one abot rick being happy: rick not needing morty anymore as soon as he’s happy

- being dumb (possibly, fear hole guy calls him dumb)

- rick’s suicidal tendencies

- being uncertain, more specifically being uncertain about being in the hole

- everytime rick says “we’re rick and morty, 100 years, forever” he doesn’t really mean it

- being “replaceable” or abandoned

#rick and morty #morty smith #rick and morty spoilers #fear no mort #feel free to add i probably missed something #honestly even add fears not in the episode #i want to dissect this little guy #words

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the-kr8tor · 7 months

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Can I request Hobie Brown to react to his friends telling him how his shy gn crush has been trying to confess to him for the whole week but keep getting interrupted by something like there's a mission that popped up when they're about to confess & they're losing hope for your fluffy Friday?

Thank you for the lovely request! ❤️ I may or may not have gotten overboard with it lol

Pairing: Hobie Brown x gn! Reader/ Spider-Punk x gn! Reader

Word count: 1.7k

Synopsis: The three times you try to confess to Hobie and the one time he did.

Tags: use of Y/N sparsely, no specific physical description of the reader, spiderperson! Reader, shy! Reader, cw blood, cw injury, FLUFF.

It's Fluffy Friday!

A continuation of this fic, could also be read as a standalone

ʕ⁠·⁠ᴥ⁠·⁠ʔ

Gwen gives you a thumbs up from far away, hiding herself behind a column, with her encouraging nod, you make your way towards Hobie. He sits alone in the cafeteria, arm on the back of the bench, his food tray almost empty, munching away at his lunch.

It's now or never, you thought, hands shaking and heart racing for the inevitable confession. You've been crushing on him since you've joined the society, Gwen noticed of course since she's close to the both of you.

How could she not with your lingering glances and shaky voice everytime Hobie grazes your vision. You've been told that your shyness increases tenfold when you're talking to him. You're much worse when you two get partnered up for a mission, always oh so distracted when he fights an anomaly. His arms flexing to reach for the guitar on his back, a determined look on his face. It's not like you can see it through his mask, but you still imagine it (delusional). Well it always gets to you making you fumble while swinging on your web, almost hitting the side of a building.

Hobie spots you from the crowd of spandex clad reds and blues, a grin spreading on his chiseled face. He waves you over, the simple movement makes your stomach somersault. Oh you're so dead, buried six feet underground, rigor mortis spreading through your fingers.

"Hi?" You cringe internally at your greeting that sounded like a question.

"Where's your food?" he gestures towards the lack of food tray in your hand. "Don't tell me Rex is still up your ass about last time"

You laugh nervously. "No, we're good actually" hands tucked behind you, fiddling with your fingers. "And I already ate"

"Good," he finds your shyness endearing, eyes shining, a lopsided smile on his lips. "D'you want to sit down?"

"Okay" you softly say, too shy to sit down next to him so you sit across, the table providing a barrier between you.

An awkward silence falls, Hobie clears his throat in an effort to pop the bubble of awkwardness away.

"How's your dimension?" He makes small talk, trying to get you to talk again. Hobie likes hearing your voice, especially when you ramble on about your home or the shows you're currently watching.

"Good, beat the crap out of Morbius yesterday"

Hobie whistles, "Hope he didn't bite a chunk out of you, love"

You laugh, music to Hobie's ears. "nope–" suddenly remembering why you're here, you clam up, hands getting clammy. You find courage deep within you. "Hobie I need to tell–"

"Hey! Hobie! Ohh and Y/n!" Pavitr cheerfully greets you two, unintentionally interrupting your confession.

"Hi, Pav" waving shyly. "Hi, Miles" you notice him walking behind the energetic Pavitr.

"Hey, guys! We're not interrupting you or anything, right?" Miles asks, gaze moving from you to Hobie.

From far away Gwen facepalms, internally imagining wringing her friends' necks.

Hobie greets the two, clueless of your almost confession. "Sit down with us"

"Thanks!" Pav exclaims, he sits next to you while Miles sits on your other side. Trapping you.

Hobie tamps down his smile at your predicament, hiding it behind his drink.

—

Sweat slides under your mask, you cringe at how moist the cloth is but you continue on, flipping and swinging effortlessly in the training area. You dodge an incoming attack from Doc Ock's hologram, breathless, you web him up, pulling him down to the hard floor. He dissolves into a pile of pixels, making an eight bit video game dying sound.

Chuckling, you take off your sweaty mask, fresh air cooling you down. You jump when you hear clapping behind you, clutching your chest, you curse at your lack of spider senses. You couldn't believe your eyes that someone could be here this early. You would always train at this hour to avoid people watching you.

Hobie leans on the doorway with a proud smile. Clapping his hands like an audience who just watched the most amazing play ever.

"You're getting better" he saunters towards you, the act making you cover your sweaty and for sure messy face with your equally sweaty mask.

You place it over your face so quickly that the eyes don't match over yours, it looks wonky. Hobie smiles, eyes soft.

"Thanks" you fumble with the single word, voice muffled by the cloth.

He chuckles, hands hovering over your masked face. "Can I?" Asking for your permission to fix it for you.

Through your vision, you could only see half of his face, missing how he gazes at you fondly. You could only nod at his request.

Warm hands straighten up the mask for you, carefully pinching the cloth, avoiding your skin underneath. You couldn't breathe the entire time his hands were on you, completely frozen, heart practically bouncing all over your rib cage.

"There" with your mask fixed, Hobie gives your cheek a loving tap.

"Thank you" you gather your courage. "Hobie, I–"

Sirens wail around you, red lights flickering around the large room. Miguel's booming voice echoes out, calling for Hobie's team for an 'important mission' according to him.

He sighs at the interruption, "see you when I get back?"

"Mm-hmm, okay" he resists the urge to hug you goodbye.

—

That's it, you thought, frustrated at your failed attempts at confessing. You've tried, even fighting against your shyness. Stomping over to Hobie's dorm, you find his door tightly closed. Adrenaline still rushing through you from your recent mission, you clamp down your bout of shyness with a knuckled grip.

Before you could lose your courage, you raise your hand to knock. Metal suddenly slams to your face with a harsh thonk. Ears ringing, your hands fly over to your bleeding nose. White hot pain makes you fall to your knees.

"Fuck!" Hobie hears the crunch, eyes widening, he immediately moves to crouch next to you, guilt wracking his body, his hands instinctively trying to stop the bleeding. The added pressure makes you hiss, yelping, pushing away from him.

"Shit! I'm sorry! Fuck!" He watches as blood gushes out of your nose. Unable to stop the crimson falling on the pristine floors. He doesn't think his spidey senses could've warned him before the door could hit you, Hobie curses himself.

"Owww" You're dizzy, the hallway spinning, there's two (very worried) Hobies in front of you, his voice sounds like he's underwater, unable to hear him through it. Black dots dance in your vision before you fall unconscious.

—

With glazed over eyes, aching pain over the middle of your face, you squint through it, watching two figures talk in the doorway. Eyes adjusting the two blobs turn into your friends. Hobie chuckles at what Gwen said to him. He hides his face with his palm while Gwen rolls her eyes.

Still unable to hear them, you translate Gwen's actions to chastising Hobie. It's either that or she's completely exasperated, you think you heard the word Idiot uttered by Gwen.

You keep watch with half lidded eyes and a dry throat as Hobie nods with what you could make out as a cheerful smile. Your eyebrows knit at his blissful smile, why in the world is he grinning while you're laying in the clinic, pumped full of pain meds?

You probably groaned judging from the rumble in your throat, Hobie snaps his neck to look at you, smile turning into a frown when his eyes stare at the bloodied bandages around your nose. Gwen sighs in relief, pushing past Hobie to get to your cot.

"Hi, are you feeling okay?" Her voice gets clearer with every word yet it stays slightly muffled.

"Hmm" you could only hum because of your dry throat and the dull pain.

"You look a bit better?"

"Hmm" you hum angrily.

Gwen winces, "I'll get you some water, yeah?" You nod, eyes slowly blinking. "Hobie here will take care of you, away from any doors" she glares at the man beside her. Gwen leaves, leaving you all alone with him.

You tilt your head questioningly at Hobie.

He moves your blanket away from the edge so he could sit down next to you. You watch his precise movements.

"I hit you with my door"

"Mm-hmm" you hum that sounded like a 'duh'

"I'm sorry" he cringes seeing your bandaged nose again, hating that he hurt you. "Spider-Doctor said I broke your nose. I really am sorry" Guilt flashes on his face especially after what Gwen told him, confirming his thoughts.

Without missing a beat, you reach for his hand. Hobie looks at your intertwined hands with a faint smile, he squeezes it lightly.

Despite your scratchy throat, you open your mouth to talk. "Why were you smiling?" You're genuinely curious at what Gwen told him, is it a funny joke to help make him feel better? Maybe you can ask him to reiterate it, might make you feel better too.

Hobie chuckles, avoiding your face. Squinting, you can't believe your eyes, the Hobie Brown seems to be shy right in front of you.

Realization hits you, eyes widening, skin tugging when you talk, you ignore the pain. "Fuck"

"She told me why you were there" he backtracks "not like it's your fault why you got hit. It's completely mine"

You nod, heart monitor beeping loudly at your side.

Hobie laughs loudly at the sound, you join in after a second. Wincing when you laugh too hard.

Hobie leans towards you, taking your hand away from your nose, preventing you from worsening the injury. "You know what I think about it?" He softly says, face so close to yours, you could see your face in his eyes.

You shake your head, skin hot. You worry about his answer.

"I opened the door that hard because I realized what you were trying to tell me all this time even before Gwen told me"

Your heart leaps in your chest. Hobie holds your wrist tenderly.

"I slammed it open because I wanted you to tell me without interruption"

You exhale a breath you've been holding. "I like you"

Hobie beams down at you, chuckling softly. "I fancy you too and not because I broke your nose"

You roll his eyes at the joke, a giddy smile on your lips.

"What can I do to make you forgive me?" Hobie cups his hand around the shell of your ear gently.

You lean into his touch. "I can think of one" courage takes over, he knows exactly what you mean.

"Think you can handle it with your nose?"

"Nose is already healing" you lean up, Hobie helps you up with his hand under your nape. Gaze falling to your lips. "Thanks to spidey powers"

"Thank you enhanced healing" he says against your lips a second before he meets yours.

Guess getting your nose broken was well worth it.

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k-marzolf · 6 months

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Seeds

Canon typical violence, blood, threats, intimidation, past with sexual abuse (both reader and Billy), kissing, dark themes, fem!reader

Rabbit Heart Masterlist.

1,022 words.

“How’d Russo get a sweet piece of ass like you?” asked a balding, short man, leering at you as he approached you in the hallway.

You stopped in your tracks, you’d been on your way to see Billy in his office.

Men made you nervous, and you flinched when he touched your arm. “I want a taste,” he smirked, as your hand jerked and you slapped him. Hard.

His head snapped to the side, and he looked angry, a red handprint on his face. “Bitch,” he spat hand tightening on your arm making you claw at his face with your other hand, as Billy’s office door opened.

You were shaking, and Billy noticed, as his eyes lazily turned to Morty. Like a cat ready to pounce on his prey. “Morty,” he greeted, casually. “What’re you doin’ here? And take your goddamn hands off her.” He asked, hands in his jeans pockets, moving over to you.

“Rawlins wants—“ Morty said, letting go of you, but was cut off immediately.

Billy bared his teeth, “I don’t give a fuck what Rawlins wants. He’s a dog looking for scraps at his master’s table, and you’re just a rat with the courage of a rabbit.” Billy said roughly.

And something about the casual way he handled Morty, had you pressing your thighs together. You’d never seen him working or in action.

“Fuck you, Russo. Maybe I’ll visit your girl tonight—“ Morty didn’t get to finish his sentence.

Billy unsheathed his hidden blade, and struck him in the shoulder, faster than a snake strike, making Morty scream as Billy pushed through bone, unsympathetic, a warning. “You touch my girl, and I go for your eye next. Match your master, huh?” Billy asked, getting his face, blade dripping with blood as he carved a mark under Morty’s eyes, making him grit his teeth.

He pulled back, pulling out a cloth and wiping his blade, “You can tell Rawlins I ain’t interested in what he has to say.”

Morty looked hatefully at Billy, blood dripping down his face, spitting at him, before pushing past, holding his bleeding shoulder, and leaving the country house.

You felt sick from Morty’s touch, he had reminded you of your uncle, rat like and pushy. How he’d watch you in your bedroom while you slept in the chair in the corner, or go through your undergarment drawer, and steal some of your underwear. He’d blackmailed you with that one. “I’ll say, look at what my niece gave me.” He had taunted, making your heart drop. Or the way he’d touch your arm softly, fingers moving along like a spider crawling along your skin.

Billy followed you down the hall, his combat boots squeaking a little bit, as you made your way into the kitchen. It was huge, but sunny looking. Beige colored walls, with light colored wood cabinets, and stainless steel appliances. There was a sliding glass door that led outside, bringing in the sun making it seem warm inside, even the winter.

You wanted something to eat. You’d always eaten when things got tough, especially carbs. You craved those often. It was why your father always said you were fat, that no man was going to want you if you didn’t cut back a little.

Billy didn’t seem to give a fuck about your extra weight, he often pulled you into his lap while he read over paperwork, or his men gave reports. Anvil was a cover for his criminal operations, and you hated when he had to go to the city and make an appearance.

Billy watched you grab some pomegranate seeds, and asked; “Did he touch you, bunny?” His voice was low, seething at the thought, but he didn’t touch you yet, knowing you might be triggered. He understood, the word pretty still made him uncomfortable after all these years. He still gets a pit in his stomach like a stone.

You’re never the same after someone violates you, and takes away your autonomy.

“Just my arm. I slapped him.” You said, biting into the seeds, sighing at how good they tasted.

Billy grinned, “That’s my girl.” He said, kissing your forehead, and you leaned into his touch.

You replayed Billy stabbing Morty, his casual way he handled him, like a cat toying with a mouse, and pressed your thighs together. “You were kind of sexy, the way you handled Morty.” You said, juice dripping down your chin.

You moved to wipe it away, but Billy caught your hand, and leaned in, his mouth lapping up the juices, making you whine softly.

You and Billy had never consummated anything, despite the teasing, and the fooling around. He didn’t want to push you knowing you’d been sexually abused. And he was surprised he was uninterested in other women, despite never having taken you to bed.

He enjoyed the companionship, the soft press of your body to him at night with your fingers in his hair, the sweet things you’d do for him, or reading together with your feet in his lap, and the conversations late at night.

He pulled back, “Sexy, huh?” He asked, lips turning up. You were so goddamn cute.

You bit into another seed, and god it was taking everything in Billy not to have you against the counter, to hear the sweet sounds he knew you’d make just for him.

“Tryin’ to tempt me?” He asked in a low voice, caging you in against the counter, you let the juice drip down, and he caught it with his tongue again, kissing your mouth this time.

You clutched his green sweater, returning his kiss, leaning on your tippy toes to taste the whiskey in his mouth. He gave you soft kisses that left you breathless, and hard kisses too, that had you aching for him, his fingers tangled in your hair, pressed against you. You could feel every inch of him.

You both spent the rest of the afternoon sharing pomegranate seeds, and kissing, both content to let it go no further.

But you realized with an ache between your thighs you were ready to trust Billy with yourself.

#billy russo #billy russo x reader

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invisiblegarabgetruck · 5 months

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can't get enough of fearholejerry screaming at Morty swallowing a spider and how not ok it is

#morty scared his fake dad lmaooo #also JERRY IS SEMI-IN THE EP OKAY OKAY I'LL TAKE IT OVER NOTHING I GUESS :')

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eddiemunsxn · 2 years

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— road gate.

masterlist. / nav.

❰ about. the one where we get billy back bc screw the duffelbag bros

❰ warnings. fem!reader, mentions of smut, angst, fluff, grieving, mentions of blood

❰ word count. 4.1k

❰ note. reader doesn’t know much about the upside down, and didn’t get involved with the party until the events of season three. she’s known max and billy since they first came to hawkins! also, i may write more than one version of billy coming back inspired from some theories i’ve seen. this one just came to me randomly and might not make sense or could be messy, but i just want him back anyway, anyhow dammit 😭

His absence was like a gray sky, spread over everything, and as sad as the beginning of springtime. Few people cried for him.

You held your grief, two limp tulips in each hand, and one in your mouth. Your grip was tight, and your cries muffled by the stem. No one else cared to water these flowers, these memories of sacrifice, for Billy. Your tears were not enough to keep them alive. You nor Max, the only people he was rooted in.

So you ripped the flowers out like knives from a body, letting the arteries dry up—letting every emotion finally bleed out. It was too much to keep the tulips in the earth of your heart when they were already dying. You needed to move on, but not forget.

Shut away in your room, and sitting on your bed, you let yourself feel the hurt. The hurt was important to heal.

You went through all the shades of blood, from the brightest—the best memories of you and Billy, to the last degree of reds—black. Terrible anxiety. It seized you by the throat. Seized you by the need for Billy’s existence—the feeling that without him you were lost, or rather, that you preferred anything at all to having lost him.

Your anguish made you fold in on yourself, chest pressing to your knees. It made your hands form claws, fingers curling in like a dead spider’s legs. You froze in that position, rigid as if plagued by rigor-mortis. You trembled as your sobs forced your jaws apart in a silent scream. It pained your jaws to be open so wide, and caused a heavy headache.

Griefs and regrets came to you one by one, attracted to the smell of your emotions’ blood. They perched on your shoulders as crows, weighing you down even more, talons sinking into you.

You wished you looked at Billy longer. All those times he tried to invite reactions out of you by standing so close his scent filled your lungs—teakwood, leather, and cigarettes, and angling his head down to try and meet your eyes. You were too flustered to do more than glances, but he thought it was cute. It showed in the way he grinned—the type of smile he only ever had around you.

His happiness was as rare as a blue moon, and when it was there, it was like a chord from his favorite song—of such pure gravity. It saddened you to see how he normally felt; angry, and needing to lash out from pain, by inflicting it. But he didn’t deserve to suffer or die. He was not unforgivable. He just needed the chance to change, to do better.

You wished you could have given him more happiness. Something to ease his pain. He didn’t always let you in, even when his eyes gleamed like liquid mercury with tears. Neil always made him feel weak, so Billy strived to be strong however he could.

You wished you touched him more than you already had the chance to. More than playing with the prominent curl of hair at his forehead, drawing a hand up his chest, exposed even beneath two layers of clothing, or simply embracing him.

In public, you were shy, but he never was. He secured an arm around you whenever he could; across your shoulders, or around your waist and hooked a finger in your belt loop. Always, in some way, you were pulled closer to him. He needed the kind of touch that didn’t instill fear, but comforted him, and you gave that to him.

In the school parking lot, you vividly remembered the boldest thing you did. You weren’t one to show off, but you were overcome with such a need for Billy that you didn’t care who saw.

You sat on the hood of his Camaro, and he stood between your legs, squeezing your hips. Like an enthused cat, his pupils were swollen, limiting the blue of his rises to a thin ring.

He glanced down to your chest, fitted with a cami top, and detailed with lace. The material had the sheen of pearls, and hugged your shape; the swell of your braless breasts, and the curves of your torso.

Stop looking, you thought. And do something.

When he didn’t, you did. And it took him by surprise. Pleasantly.

You snatched his chain necklace, Mother Mary and Son pendant imprinting your palm, and pulled him down to capture his lips. You fit him tighter between your legs, your other hand grasping his denim jacket.

The kiss was hot enough to join metals, and branded your memory forever. But you wished you had more of those moments. Always more than what you already had.

You could have had more time with him; if you skipped classes like he asked, if you didn’t leave his bed before late morning, if you lingered by the pool a little longer. But you tried to cherish what time you did have with him. You didn’t know it would be all you’d have.

Your anguish soon calmed, loosening its grip on your body, but you wondered if you had any blood left in you. As though you were coming down from hot flashes, your body was chilled and shivering.

Lying down on your side and scrunching up in the fetal position, you looked at the empty space next to you.

It was strange how memories were all around you. Strange, uninvited, and painful, yet still warming.

School nights never mattered. Billy found ways to convince you of that. He only wanted you, not good grades.

You had tried to make an effort to be quiet when he knelt down and got his fingers full of you, his mouth on you. The splash of his tongue melted you like a sugar cube.

Then you were full of him, and every thrust took you and him together like a violin bow, drawing sweet noises from two separate strings.

But it was the aftermath, in the morning light, waking up to him after he undid you the night before. His breaths were cool and light on your skin. He touched your face, reading the structure of you like braille; tracing the curve of your jawline and cheekbones, feeling the softness of your plush lips, lightly admiring the hickey on the pulse point of your throat.

You and him were quiet the whole time, but didn’t need words to speak to one another. Touch was a language, too.

You drew your fingers up his forearm, over the bumps of tendons, to tangle your fingers with his. Hands held up between you, sunlight gilded yours and Billy’s skin as if something holy was emanating from both of you.

You felt his pulse in his hand, and you were sure that was it. The mingling of heartbeats—thumping that morse code only lover’s understood.

A telltale pinch behind your eyes stole you from the memory. A memory of past bliss that became the anguish of today; how it leapt and snapped. How it nipped at you, unexpectedly. Cradling your hand, sobs bubbled out from you. You closed your eyes, hot tears stinging like fresh wounds.

“Y/N.”

Your eyes snapped open, body shocked stiff.

The voice was faint, and echoey as if coming from the end of a chasm. Wavering as if underwater. It was Billy’s voice.

On your nightstand, the lamp’s light stuttered like a palpitating heart.

Hearing his voice, seeing lights tremble—it had been constant for almost a year. You had not only lost Billy, but maybe your mind as well.

You didn’t talk to anyone about it. Not your parents. They didn’t know how Billy really died, and would medicate you for your “hallucinations”, or put you up with a shrink.

You didn’t talk to Max about it, either. Not lately. She withdrew from everyone. You still took her to school some days, but she was never there in that passenger seat. Her headphones whisked her away from this world as much as a good book did.

Your escape was Billy’s Camaro. You had saved it from the scrapyard, using your college funds to buy it and fix it up yourself. You didn’t have much knowledge of cars, but made do with books and lessons from VHS tapes.

The Camaro wasn’t the only thing of Billy’s you managed to keep. You had his denim and leather jackets, his necklace, and his silver spike earring.

Having the things of a person was never as good as having who they belonged to, just as you couldn’t enjoy a flower with only one of its petals. Although, these belongings kept you as close as you could get to someone who was gone. The connection to Billy through his things was a thin, measly string, but it meant everything. Just as much as the memories did—good and bad.

As you kept turning him over in your mind and in your heart, you closed your eyes again, exhaustion weighing you down like overly damp clothes.

God help him. He had no one to guide him. He was in the dark, and the only light was red. It blinked and cracked the black sky. All around him, spores floated like marine snow in the oceans. Fleshy vines branched across everything—up walls, trees, across the ground. Creatures, some with faces that opened up as toothed petals, prowled and flew overhead.

Billy was sure it was hell, perhaps his personal hell. It mirrored Hawkins, yet there were no other people, and his house didn’t have his belongings—as though he never lived in it. But your house—it was where he went to and stayed. He always felt safest there, even in what he assumed to be hell, or purgatory.

Your home had your things, especially your mom’s, from her Eternal Beau and Hornsea Pottery collections in the kitchen, to the glass fish ornaments and L’Enfant Poster in the living room.

The name plaque on your bedroom door ensured that Billy, as well as your prying parents, knew exactly whose messy and poster adorned room lay within. Almost every girl had a door plaque, and if it helped you to assert your individuality, then why not?

But Billy didn’t recognize some things in your room. You had Duran Duran and Spandau Ballet posters (if you weren’t Duran Duran then you were all about Tony Hadley and the Kemp Brothers) when he remembered posters of Mötley Crüe, Twisted Sister, and AC/DC.

What he did recognize were your Pound Puppies—teddies based on sad-eyed, homeless dogs in the pound, snow globes, your lockable diary, Smash Hits magazines, and your boom box. Even if it was tacky, it was pink, and you probably played Wham and Duran Duran because, of course, before the hormones kicked in and you wanted posters of real rockstars on your walls, you were a lot more innocent.

Such as with your Care Bears. A sunshine bear, a lucky bear, and one of the love bears sat lined up against your pillows; neat as books on a library shelf.

Billy stood by your bed. It was tidy, like usual, but he had known it to be unmade most days because of him. He grabbed the coral pink Love-a-Lot Bear, remembering...

He snagged the bear and flopped onto your bed with a content sigh, crossing his legs. He held the pink plush on his bare chest, red button shirt as open as a sliced wound.

“Can you give me some privacy, please?” Girded with a towel, you moved to your dresser. “Like, just close your eyes or something.”

“Mmm.” Billy hummed, closing his eyes, and pressing his lips into a thin line. “No.” He opened his eyes, using the care bear’s paw to point at you.

You rolled your eyes and turned your back to him, digging around in your drawers.

“Why are you so shy all a sudden?”

“I’m not. I just don’t like being watched. It’s like when teachers are looking over your shoulder during a test.”

“I like looking at you.” He knew you by your sounds, your movements, so well. He always tried to listen and look at you like you were new to him. He didn’t want to get used to you, didn’t want to lose you to habit. He wanted to experience you every day like the first time he saw you, the first time he heard your voice, and the first time he felt you.

“For how much longer?” You spoke quietly, maybe not meaning for him to hear it, but he did.

“Hey.” His heavy tone made you turn to him, and he moved away from the bed to stand before you. He gripped the care bear at his side. “You think I’m gonna move on to the next girl after a few weeks? Think I’ll get bored?”

You looked up at him with eyes like your stuffed Pound Puppy’s, big and droopy. When he saw you looking up like that he knew that he loved you, and that it was for always. He knew it then and there. It was a strange feeling - when he knew quite certainly in himself that something was for always.

“Do I still find you sexy, and will I continue to? Hell. Yes.” He emphasized the two words by tapping the care bear’s nose against yours. It elicited a flustered smile from you, one that you tried to hide by dipping your head.

Warmth bloomed in Billy’s chest. “Look at me, princess.”

You did.

“I still try to get a peek at you when you get out of the shower, or when you get dressed in the morning. I want to look at you because I like you. Maybe more than I thought I would.”

“Then you’re an idiot, Billy Hargrove. You’re stuck with me.”

His smile pinched dimples in his cheeks. “Guess that means I’m your idiot.”

He heard you crying again. The sounds faded in and out like a tuning radio. He sank to his knees like a desperate man into prayer beside your bed, gripping the Love-a-Lot bear. “I’m here. I’m here…” He cried. The crying of something leaving the body—hope.

He had tried to talk to you. Tried to let you know he was stuck and could hear you. He heard everything you said, and even the music you played.

The first time he heard the music from your pink boombox, Cutting Crew’s song, “I’ve Been In Love Before” was playing. And something cradled the boombox, hanging in the air like dust.

Wary, Billy touched the particles, and as he did the song was tuned louder, the dust turned gold around his hand. The same thing happened with lights when he neared them. They got brighter.

He thought he could reach you this way, but it didn’t seem to work. He wondered if you were even hearing him when he tried to talk, or when he messed with your lights and music.

He knew this had to be his personal hell when he could hear you, when he knew you were there on the other side, but no matter what he did he would go unheard; be a ghost in the wall, fated to only observe as things lived and moved on without him.

Billy turned his back to your bed and settled down against it, eyes dry as a salt bed, and holding your care bear to his abdomen. A tear drew a hot line down his cheek, and he closed his eyes.

After you awoke, you retreated outside to the Camaro. All you had left to do was paint the scratches left from repaired dents, and the areas where the original paint was burned off.

You sat on a vibrantly colored gym scooter, able to easily roll around the car. Like a jeweler looking through a loupe, you focused intently on the scratches, blinking the strain from your eyes as you colored them in.

When you were done, you used your feet to push yourself away, the wheels of the scooter scratching against the cement. Admiring the car in full view, you drew in a deep, shaky breath. It was done.

Closing the driver’s door, you sat for a moment. You were almost too nervous to start the Camaro. Or too excited? You looked at the rearview mirror. Hanging from it was Billy’s necklace and earring—your lucky dice.

They were the push you needed. You turned the key, startling the engine awake, and jumpstarting your heart. It beat furiously in your chest and ears, but the vibrations from the car’s grumbling eased you.

Billy opened his eyes. He’d know that growl anywhere. He fled your room, following the noise outside. Through the spores, floating like wispy cotton seeds, he saw the dust again, mimicking where his car’s tail lamps and headlights were.

You had his Camaro.

He heard it accelerate, and like jets drawing clouds in the sky, the dust trailed behind.

His knee jerk reaction was to try and follow, but he stopped himself, knowing you’d be back. But when? Your empty house here felt emptier without your ghostly presence.

A cawing screech made him whip around, heart stuttering. The creature, with the face of a hookworm and leathery wings, was perched on the porch light. It wagged its wings and leapt from the light, prompting Billy to run for the tree line.

Gliding over the roof, more bats gathered like snowflakes. Their flapping shapes, appearing as static, were accentuated by the sky’s pulsing crimson light. They angled down after Billy.

The wind tossed and played with your hair as you sped down lonely roads, tracing their curves and ignoring their low number limits. You drove as Billy always did—a little too fast, a little too recklessly. You wanted to relive him anyway you could.

You momentarily closed your eyes, imagining it was you and him in the car, and he was the one driving. You held your hand out of the window, dipping into the high winds, and splaying your fingers; the breeze seeping through like cool water.

You saw Billy beside you, crooked smile teasing his mouth, and bumping his palm on the steering wheel to the beat of Poison.

The softness of his smile overwhelmed you with the stirring of wings in your chest. I’m gone for him, you had thought fondly. Aren’t I?

It was true. He was as deep in you as your pulse.

Absorbed in daydreams, you must have driven all around Hawkins, outlasting the sunlight. Night took reign, and on your way back you mindlessly took the road Fred Benson’s corpse was found on.

And something glowed ahead. A light, deeply hued as a natural, red spinel stone, poked through the middle of the road.

Billy hid in a gutted cabin, waiting, and trembling. It had been quiet, save for the thunder. The storm was always the same, never a molten silver sky, never shedding cool tears, only angry—like an infected wound.

He missed sunlight. He missed the shitty cow smell of Hawkins. He missed you. He missed his shitbird sister Mad Max. He missed being safe.

Here, everything was a threat, from the way the sky wrote its bad omens in messy red ink, to the predators always looking for him. Billy didn’t know what would happen if he was caught by one of the creatures. If he was killed, would he come back and be forced to try and survive all over again?

He moved away from the wall to peek out of the window, its jagged glass teeth threatening to chomp down on him as if he were in the jaws of an anglerfish. He skimmed the canopies for the bats—whether they were flying or camping in the branches. Nothing.

He emerged from the woods onto a road. He had to get back to your house. It was the only place he wanted to be here. But he heard something familiar to his right. The sound of his car.

You slowed the Camaro to a stop, and sat there, staring at the gaping wound. Quite literally. It looked like flesh sliced open.

Leaving the car running, you stepped out of it, haloed by the headlights. They cast a cookie cutter shape of your shadow that stretched taller than you. You warily approached the glowing gash.

Standing over it, you couldn’t see through, but the concealing of whatever was inside was thin—like skin stretched taut over a drum.

Billy expected the sound of the Camaro to pass by, but it stood still as those clouds of dust. For some reason, you had stopped. And then he saw the muffled light reaching out from the road. He thought it was sunlight, real daylight, when it was only from the Camaro.

He hurried to it, and upon seeing a human shadow stamped to the flesh of the gate, his body heat was snuffed out. Was it you? Slowly, he lowered to one knee. His body felt like an eggshell filled with arctic water; so cold, he could feel it emanate off of him.

“Who’s there?” He called.

You stilled, lungs on pause, and eyes blown wide as a camera lens. Billy. His voice. Coming from the other side?

“I said, who’s there?!”

Like a puppet cut from its strings, your legs gave out and you dropped to your knees. God damn everything if this wasn’t real. “Billy?!”

“Y/N? It’s you? Is that you?!” Emphasizing his last three words, Billy frantically beat his hands against the pavement.

“Billy, it’s me!” Your throat closed up, almost too tight to speak. “I’m here.”

Faraway screeching sounded. Billy twisted around, and flapping wings in the sky injected desperation into his voice. “Fuuuck! They’re coming!”

“Who? Billy, how do I get to you?!” Then you recalled that what covered the gate looked thin. Thin enough to easily break. At least you hoped so. “Billy grab my hand!”

Grimacing, you plunged your hand through the moist flesh, bursting out on Billy’s end like something undead waking from its grave. He seized you by the forearm, his grip a metal clamp.

You pulled, but the gravity of the gate kept it from being easy. You grabbed Billy’s arm and straightened up, bending your knees to get leverage. Gritting your teeth, tendons in your neck swelled as though they might pop free.

Like uprooting a long weed, Billy rose out from the road. He slapped his free hand down and pushed himself up, muscles bulging, and onto his side.

The strength snuffed from your body, you collapsed by him. Neither of you let go of one another. You always had the strength to hold on no matter what.

Eyes rimmed with stinging tears, you looked at him—all of him. His hair was wet and plastered to his face, as if he had just risen from water. Dried blood stained his white top like cola spilled over a table cloth. The blood from nine months ago.

You reached for him, moving the hair from his face to see his eyes. Fright and exhaustion shadowed them. But they were still as blue as you remembered.

You realized he was shaking.

“Billy,” you whispered. You thought of how many nights you had lain awake missing him, and caught hold of him tightly, melting against him like snow into fire.

He snaked an arm around you, molding you to him.

The miracle of both of your actualities, your breathing forms, and of being able to hold one another again was as great a miracle as hope and desperation may produce. Perhaps greater.

He drew a hand up your figure and sowed his fingers in your hair like roots in soil. Burying his face in the nook of your throat, he whispered in a broken, strained voice, “Y/N, I was so scared. So scared. I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt anybody. He made me do it. Please, he made me do it. I’m sorry.”

He was home. And the first thing he did was apologize.

“I know.” You squeezed words out from your tight throat. “I know it wasn’t you.” You cradled his cheek, encouraging him to look at you—even with those eyes, glistening like light striking the edges of a diamond. “It’s not your fault.” You touched your thumb to the edge of his lips. “You’re safe now.”

He relaxed in your hold, his trembling easing away from the warmth of your words. Closing his eyes, tears escaped down his cheeks—one touching the webbing between your fingers. He exhaled a shaky breath he had been holding for months. He had finally awoken from a nightmare. It was all over.

You kissed him as you had in the school parking lot, but with the hunger of a year, and the tenderness of promise.

Pressing your forehead to his, you murmured, “You’re home, now.”

❰ tags. @bdpst-massacre

#billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove #billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove x fem!reader #stranger things x reader

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whovianbuffalo · 5 months

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Morty: Oh, my God! I know what I'm afraid of. I'm afraid you'd never say that in real life. I'm afraid that if I jumped into a hole, you wouldn't even bother jumping in after me. You'd just stand there and watch. This entire thing has been about me. You're not even in the Hole, are you?

Hole: Thank you for visiting the Fear Hole, Morty. Your fear of relying on Rick has been delicious.

Morty: Dear God!

Morty! How was it? Was it spiders?

Morty: Oh. Oh, jeez. Oh, my God, no. You -- You didn't go in at all?

I WAS SCREAMING THERE WERE SO MANY FAKE-OUTS I'M SCREAMING I TELL YOU this finale was so good Jesus fucking Christ

#Rick and Morty #rick and morty spoilers #rams7

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itisbop · 3 months

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And now... the moment you've all been waiting for (or not, which is fine)! Let's talk Brawl Talk because OH BOY am I excited.

This is gonna be a pretty long post, so bear with me! I'll go over one section at a time and go over what I liked and disliked. Spoilers ahead! If you haven't watched the latest Brawl Talk, go do so! One more reminder, these are just my thoughts! You don't have to agree with me!

Without further to do... let's talk!

New Brawlers (Angelo and Melodie)

Now, when I first saw Angelo, I immediately went, "HE'S UGLY LMAO." After getting used to him, though, he's actually not that bad. His design is really good and is somewhat of an anti-cupid (perfect for a gal like Willow). Also, his voice actor did such a good job so much energy was put into him.

He doesn't seem like he's gonna be incredibly busted, but he is gonna be good in the right hands (while I'm at it pay your respects to Mortis Mains ya'll, they just took a major l with this guy). Sorry Larry and Lawrie, but you two are gonna have to step aside, I NEED this man as much as I need the next brawler.

I. LOVE. MELODIE!!! I did think she was a League of Legends character at first, lol.

Apparently, I've heard people say she is the first female assassin, which is very interesting! Out of the two, I feel she poses more of a threat. She might be broken, though her main attack is WEAK.

I've been through the Reddit and have seen so many people talk about how she looks like Janet, and I'd like to take the time to bring up a little theory... what if she was Janet and Bonnie's mom? I would go into this further, but we have to keep going!

Overall, I really like these two! Their designs are really good, and the character designers did a great job! Their pins and profile pictures show SO much personality! Expect some art of these two soon! However, if I may say something, I wish their skins were cooler. Why couldn't Angelo have a Sands of Time skin too? 😭

Speaking of Sands of Time...

Sands of Time and Ragnorok + Skins

Out of both seasons, I'm very hyped for Sands of Time. The "Sands of Time" is a very interesting concept that can be used very creatively. Can't wait to see what the animation brings! Though I think we all know why I'm hyped...

My best guest was that this skin was gonna be a Epic/Mythic skin, but a LEGENDARY?????? WHAT?????? Chuck fans we just fucking WON. I've seen the sneak peaks and heard his voice lines, Nicolai did an INCREDIBLE job as always. I'm am SO READY to go broke for this skin, but first, I must purchase some seasonal skins since they've been on my agenda for a while.

Loki Chester has to be the one I'm looking forward to getting the most for the Ragnorok seasons/skins. Plus, it's free! (If you have good luck).

Side note and honorable mention, Thor Bibi was just the icing on the cake for Bibi Mains this update. While I feel like a few more details could be added for this skin to make in truly "legendary," everything else about it great, including the voice acting! Poor Bull, he's the only one in his yet to get a Legendary Skin.

Ranked and The Report System

Okay, not related, but I love how they disses on the community a bit in this section, LOL. They know what, at least Reddit and Twitter are doing (and let's keep it that way, they don't need to know what's going on over here lol).

Anyways, while I'm excited (and scared) for Ranked with modifiers I wanna take this time to talk about a concern... the report system...

Now, I know there's a reason why we have 10 reports; but what's gonna stop so angry guy from reporting me if I didn't do anything? I feel like there's a chance this could backfire, that's all.

Hypercharges and Balance Changes

No Mortis or Poco hypercharge :(

Cordelius was definitely unexpected and very scary. Getting slowed in the shadow realm is a death sentence.

I wish Belle got a little more this update, but I'll take the hypercharge.

Move over Charlie, there's a new spider person in town, and he's a DINOSAUR.

Onto to balance changes. 84???? GOD DAMN. Adrien wasn't fucking around this update. Edgar is dead (and rightfully so FUCK HIM) and Doug might actually stand a chance in this Meta. I'll miss the days when Hypercharges were game breaking just for the community's rage, but it's probably for the greater good.

Whatever the Fuck the Random Skins Were

Now Primo Shark, I can take (though I'm definitely not gonna be able to take Baby Shark as a in game theme, I'm muting music for that entire time period). Pitcher Fang is a good skin too. Squeaky note is very... meh, but it's a rare skin so you can't expect much.

BUT POOP SPIKE.

POOP SPIKE.

What

the

FUCK?

It was tolerable until I saw the losing animation, and to that, I say EWWWWWWWWWW 🤮🤮🤮. WHYYYYY!?!?!? THAT'S SO NASTY!!!

I get that this is an April Fool's skin, but WHYYY THAT??? Thank GOD this skin is expensive. If I catch any of you with this skin, I'm gonna need to ask if you're okay. I don't wanna show a picture of this skin to you all, or else I'm pretty sure Tumblr would kick me to the curve. This is easily what I was least excited for for this update.

Overall Rating and Final Thoughts

Now, it's time to throw the final ratings on screen and say anything else that's on my mind.

New Brawlers - 9.5/10, definitely getting both! Let's hope they get some cool skins soon!

Sands of Time - 7/10, the concept and Chuck carry this season don't fight me on this. /j

Ragnorok - 6.5/10, I'm not as hyped, but I will grind for that Chester skin!

Ranked - 8/10, now I have a reason to actually play this mode. Hopefully, the report system is fair enough...

Hypercharges - 6.5/10, again not as hype, but I will be snatching that Belle Hypercharge since she's the only one out of the 6 I maxed out. She deserved more, though. :(

Balance Changes - 10/10, bye Edgar begone. F for the twins, however; I liked them.

Random Stuff - 3/10, not even Pitched Fang can save us from whatever the devs were on.

Overall Season 24/25 is...

8/10! (Poop Spike ruined it >:( )

And that's it. For those who have read to the end, thank you so much for heating me ramble it means so much. Expect some headcanons and more little theories soon (as in some time this week). Until then, ciao!

#brawl stars #speak no eve vil #see no eve vil #doodle #all brawlers

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sciderman · 4 months

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So Cody Ziglar (who wrote Spider-Punk, Miles Morales, apparently worked on Rick and Morty, and some other Spider-Man stuff, and also She-Hulk) is gonna be writing a new Deadpool ongoing starting in April, and apparently Ellie is making a return. I am mildly interested in his run, he seems to have experience with comedy, 4th wall breaks, some dark humor. And apparently he also wrote a part of Deadpool: Seven Slaughters whitch i haven't read.

I’ll be honest chief, I never feel very optimistic about anything deadpool these days (nobody gets it) - i really wasn't into any of seven slaughters at all - just, none of it stayed in my memory at all. just revisited the story ziglar penned and it's a heap of nothing. which is a shame - i really actually like the boxes, but only when they actually... you know, contribute something interesting. in this story, yeah, it's just a "haha remember the boxes? lets bring them back" thing for no reason at all. no introspection, no sir. that's what the boxes are there for! for introspection! not just a secondary voice to kill the joke by repeating it.

what is the point of this. is it funny because you said it twice? put some effort into it, my god.

i'm probably in the minority of people who'd love to see the boxes come back. i feel like wade's significantly more boring without them. and the worst thing wade wilson could be is boring. but i've seen SO much boring deadpool. and seven slaughters – seven slaughters was absolutely boring. to me, at least.

i wish they'd make a bad deadpool book. so at least i could be mad about it. but it's just been forgettable story after forgettable story - and wade deserves better than a story that i forget immediately after reading it. and it's awful how many deadpool books i've seen of late where just - none of the jokes land for me. for a deadpool book to be boring AND unfunny? crimes. crimes of the highest order.

dear GOD am I starved for a good deadpool book. I didn’t even dig deadpool loves the marvel universe (written by my beloved nicieza) so I don’t know what’s wrong with me. im constantly expecting some Amazing deadpool content to come from somewhere but I Know that 90% of deadpool content disappoints me.

i think you can't be a deadpool fan and expect good deadpool content. it just doesn't happen. good deadpool content is actually so freaking rare. always just have to make compromises. i take the few little slivers of goodness and make what i can out of it. i'm fighting for scraps in this barren deadpool wasteland.

can't believe i'm about to say that i miss duggan. sure his wade wilson was painfully heterosexual but at least we had introspective, human moments with him. it wasn't all stupid forgettable plot you don't actually care about and jokes that don't land. a lot of it was wade trying to figure it out. and that's kind of what i'm interested to see, from wade. i hope marvel figures that out. but i've kind of abandoned all hope of any good solo spider-man or deadpool content to come out of marvel any time soon. i think the only good deadpool or spider-man content we ever hope to get is when they're jumping into other books.

#sci speaks #sci talks comics

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fabseg-reader · 7 months

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Tinky Winkynos VS Everyone Season Two

This is the Season Two of the conquests of Tinky Winkynos.

Tinky Winkynos has escaped and he menaces the different franchises universes again. He fights against a maximum of possible fictional characters from different franchises (it can be against entire franchises).

The action: Tinky Winkynos invades the targeted suggested franchise. You must vote for the side of your choice.

The rule: You can help him conquer or you can stand against him by voting.

The result at the end of the poll will decide the fate of the universe(s) issue of his conquest(s). If The Mad Teletubby wins with more 50% of votes, he succeeds his conquest. If the franchise (TV show, video game, movie, novel, etc) wins 50%, the invasion is repelled.

If you have a franchise to purpose as challenge, say it by message or commentary.

List of Battles [Season Two]:

Vs Pirate of the Caribbean REPELLED

Vs One Piece REPELLED

Vs One Piece (Netflix) REPELLED

Vs Stranger Things REPELLED

Vs Yu-Gi-Oh! REPELLED

Vs Bleach REPELLED

Vs My Hero Academia REPELLED

Vs One-Punch Man REPELLED

Vs Hunter x Hunter REPELLED

Vs Spy X Family REPELLED

Vs Jojo's Bizarre Adventure (Joestar Family: Joseph, Jotaro, Josuke, Giorno and Jolyne) REPELLED

Vs Winx Club REPELLED

Vs Sailor Moon REPELLED

Vs Sonic the Hedgehog REPELLED

Vs Minecraft REPELLED

Vs World of Warcraft REPELLED

Vs The Legend of Zelda REPELLED

Vs Grand Theft Auto (San Andreas) REPELLED

Vs Mortal Kombat REPELLED

Vs Fortnite REPELLED

Vs Undertale REPELLED

Vs Danganronpa REPELLED

Vs Angry Birds REPELLED

Vs Transformers REPELLED

Vs Hazbin Hotel/Helluva Boss REPELLED

Vs RWBY REPELLED

Vs She-Ra and the Princesses of Power REPELLED

Vs Steven Universe REPELLED

Vs The Dragon Prince REPELLED

Vs Amphibia REPELLED

Vs Phineas and Ferb REPELLED

Vs How To Train Your Dragon REPELLED

Vs Nimona REPELLED

Vs Avatar The Last Airbender REPELLED

Vs Shrek REPELLED

Vs Puss in Boots REPELLED

Vs Disney (Mickey Mouse) REPELLED

Vs Disney (Donald Duck) REPELLED

Vs Disney (Encanto) REPELLED

Vs Disney (The Lion King) REPELLED

Vs Disney (Elena of Avalor) REPELLED

Vs Disney (High School Musical) REPELLED

Vs Disney (Descendants) REPELLED

Vs Disney (Wish) REPELLED

Vs Bluey REPELLED

Vs Paw Patrol REPELLED

Vs Spongebob Squarepants REPELLED

Vs Rick and Morty REPELLED

Vs The Scorpion King (The Mummy) REPELLED

Vs Black Adam REPELLED

Vs Jumanji REPELLED

Intermission (not a poll)

Vs Loki (Marvel) REPELLED

Vs Percy Jackson REPELLED

Vs Lord of the Rings REPELLED

Vs Jurassic Park/Jurassic World REPELLED

Vs Family Guy REPELLED

Vs Delicious in Dungeon REPELLED

Vs Pokémon REPELLED

Vs South Park REPELLED

Vs Baldur's Gate REPELLED

Vs League of Legends REPELLED

Vs Overwatch [100th battle] REPELLED

Vs Fairy Tail REPELLED

Vs Miraculous (Re-Verse/The Supreme) REPELLED

Vs Miraculous (Re-Verse/Shadybug and Claw Noire ft. Hesperia) REPELLED

Vs Miraculous (Awakening) REPELLED

Vs Yu Yu Hakusho REPELLED

Vs Hokuto No Ken REPELLED

Vs Final Fantasy REPELLED

Vs God Of War REPELLED

Vs Gummy Bear CONQUERED

Vs Dora the Explorer REPELLED

Vs Crazy Frog CONQUERED

Vs Nyan Cat REPELLED

Vs Uncharted REPELLED

Vs Ninjago REPELLED

Vs Kirby REPELLED

Vs Pucca REPELLED

Vs Hello Kitty REPELLED

Vs Ever After High REPELLED

Vs Adventure Time REPELLED

Vs Star vs. The Forces of Evil REPELLED

Vs Robocop REPELLED

Vs Fallout REPELLED

Vs Jujutsu Kaisen REPELLED

Vs Chainsaw Man REPELLED

Vs Mob Psycho 100

Vs Totally Spies!

Vs Dofus/Wakfu

Vs Kim Possible

Vs Cars

Vs Troll Hunters

Vs Zootopia

Vs Roblox

Vs Murder Drones

Vs Masha and the Bear

Vs Peppa Pig

Vs Call of Duty

Vs Animal Crossing

Rusty the Guardian Teletubby [Finale]

Summary here:

Season One

Halloween Special

Trial

Escape Plan

Christmas Special

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mirimiramiri · 8 months

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Be ready for the countless possibilities of the multiverse

The first time I stumbled across the idea of the multiverse was when my dad took me to the movie theatre almost 20 years ago. The title was “What the bleep do we know?”. It explained the basics of quantum physics and how every decision might result in the birth of a new parallel universe.

I loved it immediately.

The concept was used a lot in Star Trek and those were by far my favourite episodes! Come on, Spock with a beard! An evil Kira! And of course a universe in which Starfleet is the most sinister thing! Best Enterprise episodes!

But also when Worf accidentally jumped from universe to universe, every time it’s a bit different (he is married, part of the command staff or one of the few survivors of the Borg reign). Awesome!

I also enjoyed the tour through the Family guy universes with Brian and Stewie (especially… ah no spoilers!) And futurama of course! And Rick and Morty for sure, they took it to a whole new level.

Lately I think multiverses have experienced a renaissance in cinema. With the Spider-Man movies (three peters? I loved it!) and Doctor Strange 2 (I hated that movie so much…) Everything everywhere all at once also took us on one hell of a countless possibilities ride for sure!

I think there is something beautiful, comforting and terrifying about the multiverse idea.

My own take on multiverses in my story is a bit different than Be Ready. I have written, am still writing and will be writing around 7 different universes. At some point they will collide. Looking forward to a bunch of Vans (or is Vani the plural) fighting over who will take the wheel and try to squeeze into a single small Guymilef cockpit. Guess they will have to rock scissor paper that one out.

About the picture: it is my most ambitious yet and took about a month or so? In hindsight I wished a had made the canvas bigger for more Vani and Hitomis. It was inspired by “The black barn”, an excellent graphic novel about parallel universes and time travel I can only recommend. It’s like a Wimmelbild with scenes from the show, the movie and other possibilities. It was so much fun! Thanks for letting me do this @bluetreeleaves

#escaflowne #vision of escaflowne #van fanel #hitomi kanzaki #escaflowne fanart #tenkuu no escaflowne #the vision of escaflowne #be ready #fanfic #escaflowne fanfiction #multiverse

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sadiecoocoo · 3 months

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Hello hello! I’m doing a thingy that I was originally going to do once I got to 100 followers just for fun but I’m impatient so I’m at least starting it now :)

Please read the entire post

I’m opening my writing prompts!!!

Idk how long I’m going to do it, maybe a day, maybe a week, maybe half a week, i haven’t decided yet and it’ll depend on how many people see this post.

While I am opening prompts, depending on the ones I get, I will likely only be doing one as of right now. But if I like the idea enough there’s always a chance that I’ll write it later :)

Rules

- These must be oneshots

- no proships, be it incest, pedophilia, or anything of the sort

- you must give me an idea for a fic, don’t just say what ship you want me to write about

- no smut

So what goes?

- fluff, angst, and whump

- could be a ship or family tropes

- cliches

- you may submit multiple prompts, though I’m likely to only do one at the time being

- anything else that wasn’t explicitly stated that was unallowed

What fandoms/relationships?

For platonic it could be familial figure tropes, good friends or found family! Also if you really want to see a ship that I haven’t listed just ask! Any that aren’t listed aren’t off limits as long as they don’t break any of the rules above. If anyone would like something from a different fandom, once again just ask, though it’s less likely that I’d choose ur prompt (try to make it a fandom that I’ve made posts or older fics abt)

Rick and Morty

Ships: Mortycest, Morty/brad/jessica, Morty/brad, Morty/jessica, Nancy/Summer

Platonic: any of the family, ie morty & Rick, summer & Rick, Morty & summer, etc

Ultimate Spider-Man

Ships: spideynova, parksborn, spideypool, spideyfist, spideyflash

Platonic: spidey & the ultimates, spidey and nick fury, spidey and coulson, spidey and wolverine, spidey and stark, etc

To submit prompts please go to my writing blog, @sadiewritingco and use the ask box there. It’d help to keep things organized :)

I don’t think there’s anything else to add… I’m debating on making a poll after the prompts are closed again to see what the favorites are, depends on how many I get and if anyone says if they would want a poll or not

#writing prompts #give them to me #oh god time to tag all the ships and characters #rick and morty #mortycest #oh god idk all the ship names #I’m screwed #brad #spaceballs.luv #ultimate spider man #spideyfist #spideynova #spideypool #parksborn #all those ship names are sm easier to remember lol #okay #SEND IN THE PROMPTS #also plz reblog so more ppl have time to send prompts if they want too :)

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miasudare · 7 months

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Ever noticed how lately the films and movies has Multiverse as their context? Dr. Strange, Spider-Man, Sonic Prime, Miraculous... WHO WAS IN THE FANDOM???? I KNOW THAT SOMEONE FROM THESE PROJECTS PLAYED UNDERTALE!!! Ain't now way they just decided that

Edit: Now some Turkish animated movie is also doing it. South park did it last week. Loki was about Multiverses, What if..?, Rick and Morty, Adventure Time, Regular Show, Gumball, Amphibia, Star vs the forces of evil, Flash(?) did that too. And I can proudly say these were after Undertale too. Guys, we are going somewhere-

#undertale #multiverse #fandom #movies #series

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thesoftboiledegg · 1 year

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OK guys, I have a confession to make today: I am a dudebro. The tech geniuses in my Elon Musk discord sent me here to infiltrate Tumblr. I chug a Toxic Rick energy drink every morning even though it makes my bones rattle and spiders crawl at the edges of my vision. I go to Birdrick threads on Reddit, comment "is rick gay," get two downvotes and leave. Every day, I pray that Rick will say "I'm not arguing, I'm explaining why I'm right" in the show so that I can point at the shirt that I'm wearing with the same phrase on it and say "Haha, it's official now! You to want hear me say it out loud? Huh? You want me to throw that badassery right in your face? Fuck up my McDonald's order one more time, and it's coming at you!" Do it, Rick. Do it for me.

I've jacked it to Rick a few times, but I only did that because it was funny. In fact, it was funnier than everything in seasons 4-6 combined. I think that Rick and Morty has been the worst shit on TV since season three, but I haven't stopped watching it. Instead, I watch every new episode and make rage-fueled videos in my $1,000 gaming chair. This week's topic: Rick and Morty has gone woke. What was up with that joke in season five about the cops being racist? The cops aren't racist! They kill ALL races equally, Jesus Christ.

Anyway, back to Birdrick: I KNOW that Birdrick is platonic because I tell my male friends that I love them all the time. That's not romantic. In fact, I say it while looking directly into their eyes, thinking about all the great times that we had together, thinking that they should leave their bitch of a girlfriend because I know more about Rick and Morty than she ever will. I think about how hilarious it would be if we went on a long vacation and shared a hammock and watched the sun set, the light glittering on the waves as insects start to hum in the grass. Haha, it's all a joke, bro.

Once, I was DJing in a club and trying to figure out how to play Kanye West's entire discography at once when a guy handed me an acid tab with Morty's screaming face on it. I flew off into outer space and floated around until Rick picked me up in his ship. We made out for a while so that he could teach me how to make out with all the hot alien babies on Neptune. Of course, I already know how to make out with babes because I kissed a chick wearing a Rick and Morty hoodie once. She was clearly shit at it because I didn't enjoy it, and I should have known better because girls, queers and Tumblrinas don't actually like Rick and Morty. They just pretend to like it because they want male attention.

Oh, I'm sorry--CIS male attention. Is that woke enough for you? And by the way, libsharts: Rick is a CIS MALE. I would know because he runs around naked in every other episode, and I made a compilation of every scene for hard evidence. Cry about it all you want, but you're not going to win this debate. No one's looked at Rick Sanchez naked more than me!

Anyhoo, Rick called out the woke crowd in the season one classic "Raising Gazorpazorp," which brilliantly deconstructs feminazi bullshit, especially Rick's speech at the end. Something about Rick's voice really sells it. Something about the way it's so gravely but familiar at the same time, like rain hitting a tin roof while we're sipping iced tea on the porch. Do you ever feel like you're only going out with girls because all your bros are doing it?

HAHA uh, Birdrick is a sack of puke and just the thought of it makes me shit rage diarrhea. (Uh oh, was that too CRUDE for the purity police? Well, get used to it, because I have to.) If I ever see a Bird Person cosplayer on the streets of LA, I'm going to hit him with my Tesla, killing him instantly. I'm hoping that it might explode a little bit for maximum damage. In fact, I'm just going to program my Tesla to hit every pedestrian that resembles a human-sized bird. It's in Elon Musk's genius hands now!

So what the fuck has happened to Rick and Morty? That show was great before they hired women writers. I'm pretty sure that they hired a bunch of queers, too, because only a gay man would come up with that suit and tie he wore in season six. He looked way too good in that outfit. Which one of you homos designed that shit? Jesus Christ, get out of the writers' room and let the straight men take control again. If I ever win a giveaway or something and get to visit the studio, I better be surrounded by men!

Season one was just winner after winner and winner. We need to get back to the original show--the REAL show--where Rick was a cool-headed and rational scientist instead of the weeping "wah wah I'm so sad morty" baby we're stuck with now. I would know because I'm basically the real-life Rick. I say what I want, when I want. Don't like it? Too bad. You just don't want to hear the truth. Rick Sanchez walked so that white men with beards could run...to their Teslas and run over Bird Person cosplayers, killing them instantly.

And Rick USED to tell the truth. Love is a chemical reaction, nothing means anything, existence is pain, marriage is bullshit (ESPECIALLY when you're married to a female), everyone's too politically correct now, it's stupid that we can't call stuff "retarded," "PICKLE RICK!!!!!", focus on science, girls are too sensitive about everything. Wubba lubba dub dub! Shit, what does that mean again? I'm so used to saying that at parties when someone hands me a Rick and Morty bong and I just smoke whatever's in it because that's what Rick would do. I think I smoked oregano a couple of weeks ago. My nostrils have been burning ever since, but I'm sure it's fine. Nothing can kill a man who pounds Toxic Rick energy drinks!

Haha, wouldn't it be funny if I left the last two words off that last sentence? That would be the funniest shit ever. I'm crying with laughter!

People didn't understand Dan Harmon's genius when they whined about the show, and it apparently made him so depressed that he gave up and surrendered to the woke crowd. Christ, I hate the Internet. I only get on here to check Reddit, scroll through Elon Musk's Twitter feed and see if Dan Harmon updated his Instagram. He reminds me of Rick a lot. They're both geniuses, but the major difference with Dan Harmon is that he's got that scraggly beard. It's probably scratchy when you make out with him. I took a bunch of molly at a party once and kissed a guy who looked like a lumberjack because I thought he was a lady lumberjack, and his beard was pretty scratchy. I said "Wow, that's what kissing Dan Harmon is like!" And he said "Want to go back to my place?" And I said "Fuck no, you're not ACTUALLY Dan Harmon." LOL!!!!!!!

Remember when I mentioned McDonald's at the start? I've been in Mickey D's this whole time, and if you're wondering how I had time to type this, it's because the 16-year-old fucktards behind the counter don't know what they're doing. (And yes, I'm getting McNuggets! Haha! #szechaunsauce) Rick wouldn't put up with this shit. Not only is he a badass, but he's got badass friends all over the galaxy who would back him up. I had a dream a month ago where Rick was hanging out with these buff guys that were probably his personal bodyguards. Some weird stuff happened, and when I told my therapist about it, she said "It sounds like you had a dream about Rick having sex with a group of men," and I said "No, I didn't," and she said "You just loudly and audibly said that you had a dream about Rick having sex with a group of men," and I said "Haha, I was manipulating you! I'm a master manipulator like Rick! It was a social experiment! What made you think about gay sex anyway? If I said 'And then Rick got gangbanged by a bunch of dudes' and you immediately thought 'Wow, it sounds like you had a gay sex dream,' that's on you, honey! Hear me? THAT'S ON YOU!!!'"

So, uh...

Let's close this off with a classic: Wubba lubba dub dub! Haha. Anyway, since you Tumblrites love analyzing every frame of every episode because it makes you feel like you "get it" (spoiler alert: you don't), why is this GIF so hypnotic? I've been watching it for twenty minutes and can't figure it out.

Lord have mercy.

#sorry everyone I had to get this off my chest #me #rick and morty #rick sanchez #april fools

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