#[ i love this as his main verse so much ]

[heartorbit]

figure skating set right now please. thanks

[warsrage]

tomorrow is simeon's ic birthday which isn't really remotely important ooc other than to just have an opportunity to say ... he is sooooo particularly special to me and the reason that i had the courage to start writing ocs here on tumblr in early 2020 when i brought him here, which has led to that being most of what i do and has been so fulfilling to me. he's so close to my heart, even if i've taken substantial breaks from him over the years, and probably my most developed character with the strongest voice. although all my characters are important to me, especially my ocs, he means so particularly much to me.

[urwendii]

Snippet from something I've been working on that might tie with my main verse. There's a lot of angband fic that have Maedhros being tortured by Mairon in er... dead dovish abusing ways but I dislike them very much and instead like to turn the tables on him.

"What about you then? We talk about me so much that I am beginning to feel flattered." Maedhros says, a hint of amusement colouring his voice.

Mairon raises one perfect amber eyebrow, his golden eyes riveted on Maedhros'.

"Let me see, what's your story? trophy Maia kept as a boy toy for Morgoþ's to enjoy whenever he looks away from the Silmarils long enough to remember you?"

The hand that shot up and curls around his neck does not surprises him but Maedhros only feels vicious satisfaction at the flicker of anger simmering in those hypnotic eyes.

"You know nothing, son of Fëanáro. "

"Ah, but I believe I do. Loving someone who would never give you his whole." His cracked lips curl into a smirk. Mairon's fingers tighten until Maedhros' air intake is compromised. Oh well. Let him die here and be done. On this small victory, at least. Yet the Maia seems to recall himself and with a snarl, shoves him back to slump again the wall of his cell.

"You must be an idiot to think antagonising me is going to bring you any sort of freedom Nelyafinwë. There is none in Angband."

"Ah," Maedhros smiles then spits blood. "This is true for you as well."

Then Mairon scoffs, as if the mere idea of his limited agency was risible but Maedhros has seen, has heard, he might have been gagged and bound but the flicker of pain on the Maia's face upon Morgoþ's dismissal has not escaped him. And oh curse him anew if Maedhros isn't going to drive that particular knife between the Maia's ribs even if he has to die because of it.

[quietlyblooms]

a possessive kiss that is meant to stake a claim .

kiss & tell | oooh @ofurizen wants chiyo soooo bad ≖‿≖

" 'm sorry i didn't listen. "

the words are tired and spoken between rasped breaths as chiyo holsters her pistols. her arms and legs feel like jello -- a side effect of nearly meeting her end at the gruesome hands of a hulking demon. but there isn't a drop of concern for herself in the pools of brown gazing at v. it's all for him. she'd watched as the creature trampled over shadow, barreling towards the man with such ferocity, and as griffon snatched v out of harm's way, chiyo fired without a second thought. her onslaught drew the demon's attention to her, as she wished, but she didn't have an avian companion to save her from being squashed.

she didn't need one. a well-placed bullet ( read: lucky shot ) sent the demon tumbling to the ground, giving nightmare enough time to manifest and v to finish the job. and thank god.

as v's hair turns from white to black again, chiyo worries she's made him angry. at the very least, she expects to be reprimanded after her reckless display. she's only human. a fragile thing like her shouldn't take risks that aren't in her favor, particularly when she was told to stay back.

green eyes finally meet her own, and chiyo shifts uncomfortably beneath the intensity of v's stare. the need to justify her actions rises in her chest, forces words out that aren't as careful as they typically might be. she cares too deeply to hide it very well anymore. " but that thing wasn't gonna give you a break. i couldn't just stand there. what if you got hurt? " the distance between them is rapidly closing with v's long strides. like she always has, chiyo stands her ground and does not move, brow furrowing and mouth twisting into a frown.

but it is not an argument that v wants. he enters her space not to intimidate her but to pull her closer, eliciting a gasp as his gloved hand grasps her jaw and arm wraps around her. he wants her. the realization winds chiyo, steals the breath from her lungs seconds before v has the chance to, and it's almost embarrassing how easily she melts and molds into his touch then, how readily she stands on her tiptoes so that he doesn't have to bend down quite so far. if he wants her, he'll have her.

his kiss is a hungry, greedy thing, and chiyo is nothing but willing to feed it. he need not tilt her head for a better angle because she does it for him, presses closer without the encouragement of a tighter embrace, though she does relish in it. he need not be insistent for she wants him, too; he must understand that when she is so eager to surrender to his touch. take what you want, her body sighs. one hand slides up tattooed skin to rest delicately at the base of v's throat while the other tangles itself in dark strands and doesn't let go. her mind grows fuzzy, unable to think clearly even as their lips part for air, and chiyo meets v's gaze with half-lidded eyes. she feels the rise and fall of his chest, wonders if his heart beats as fast as hers does.

yours. all yours, her eyes seem to say as she takes hold of the hand that held her jaw and turns her head to press a kiss to his thumb, tilt her face into his palm. a smile tugs at her mouth, bashful and teasing all at once.

" maybe i'm not so sorry. "

[despairforme]

In the post, a box at Nnoitra's door. A gift from a place of holiday Sasaharu's been on with Ume. A small picture of the onsen they were at in the deep mountains and the box itself filled to the brim with insect candies, crickets, spider, some kind of beetle dried and safe for delivery.

[ Hope it finds you well, son. Enjoy these, Ume said you're a fan. Visit anytime, we're back home. Sasaharu. ]

There was a box at the door. The fuck? The only sort of mail Nnoitra got were bills ( but thankfully he got most of them on his phone, and much of it was automated ). He rarely got packages. Only if he ordered something online, but again - he hardly ever did that. He wasn't materialistic and things just didn't interest him. Why the fuck would he want to fill his apartment with useless crap? The only thing he DID order was food. Take-away and delivery. He hadn't ordered anything today, so why the fuck was there a box here?

A childish side to him was that he actually loved presents. He loved surprises ( as long as they were nice surprises ). He forever assumed that it had something to do with how few gifts he'd gotten when he was a kid, thanks to growing up poor ( and religious... ).

Eagerly, he picked up the box, and went back inside his apartment. He dropped the gym-bag on the floor. He'd completely forgotten that he'd been heading to a workout. He dropped himself down onto the couch. He inspected the box, and could read the name of the sender. Sasaharu. Okay, nice. That guy ALWAYS treated him with a crazy kindness, so at least now Nnoitra could expect the box to contain something he'd like.

He opened the box. The first thing he saw was a photo of an onsen. He sure hoped he wasn't getting tickets to go to one. He wasn't a big fan of bathing. Showering was fine, but yeah he drew the line if the water reached higher than his knees. There was a note too.

Hope this finds you well, son.

He paused. Blinked. Then read it again. This was his dyslexia acting up, right? That's why this sentence didn't make sense. He read it again. And again. No, he was pretty sure he was being referred to as "son" here. Or was it sun? He became unsure of the spelling. He didn't know which one was more unlikely, him being called basically sunshine, or being referred to as Sasaharu's "son".

That --- That kinda hit, didn't it? Like a nudge somewhere between his chest and stomach. In a good way, but also strangely tragic because - of course - Nnoitra had never had a dad. Nnoitra wasn't a sentimental person by any means. He'd never felt sorry for himself for not having a father figure in his life, or thought too deeply about what that had meant for him growing up. So there was no way for him to predict what it would feel like to be referred to as someone's son. He decided not to overthink it, afraid that the feeling he was currently having ( which he'd classify as nice ) would morph into something ugly if he continued to think too hard.

He read on -

Enjoy these, Ume says you're a fan. Visit anytime, we're back home. Sasaharu.

Upon further inspection of the box - it contained treats. Not just any treats, but his FAVORITE kind! Insect-themed treats. The kind people would grimace at and refuse to eat. Nnoitra was grinning as he looked at the content. The happy feeling inside him was only rising. He would start off with the crickets, of course! FUCK YEAH! How the hell did Ume remember he liked this stuff? He leaned back on the couch and chewed, still grinning. Ah. What was this feeling? He felt... Cared for.

[erineverly]

Axl made sure to get over here early, Meegan letting him in with a bunch of balloons tied to his wrist and a pink Minnie Mouse birthday bag that he comes into Erin’s bedroom with. “Heeey, birthday girl.” Knocking hard to let his presence be known, “Wake up, you got gifts and a card to read and cake to eat for breakfast.” In the other bag he placed the small birthday cake from Canters in a purple bag that’s hanging off his other wrist. ‘Happy Birthday, Erin’ written in cursive pink on the top of it, flowers and Minnie Mouse heads decorated on the top. He sits down on her bed, kisses her cheek and ties the balloons to the headboard then puts the bags next to her, there’s an outfit she wanted, a huge set of Estee Lauder lip sticks and lip glosses from Macy’s because he figured girls really love makeup and it was a last minute idea, a sparkly bracelet and a stuffed Mickey and Minnie in the bag for her birthday. All of it from Macy’s and he spent almost every dollar he had to afford all of it, but it’s damn worth it. Smiling in anticipation, he sinks down on his side and wraps his arm around her to squish her in a hug. | this one is set in the 80s and that bracelet is inspired off the one she wears a lot and seen in the its so easy video🥰

erin’s  just  barely  waking  up,  mostly  unaware  what  day  it  is,  when  she  hears  the  knock  on  her  bedroom  door.  her  eyes  remain  closed  as  she  stretches  her  slender  arms  over  her  head  and  mumbles,   ❝   mmm…  come  in.   ❞   she  assumes  it  must  be  her  roommate,  probably  just  got  back  home  from  a  night  of  partying,  eager  to  tell  her  all  about  the  cute  boys  that  she’d  met  and  kissed  and  danced  with.  the  door  squeaks,  and  what  a  surprise  it  is  when  the  sound  that  fills  the  air  is  not  a  girly  giggle,  but  the  voice  that  she  loves  so  very  much.  she’s  still  burrowed  under  a  pile  of  blankets,  warm  and  soft,  with  rosy  cheeks  and  tangled  curls,  but  her  sleepy  features  light  up  all  at  once  and  she  finds  herself  beaming  at  the  strawberry-haired  man.  pale  blue  eyes  fluttering  open,  widening  as  she  takes  in  all  the  gifts  that  he’s  brought  her.  a  soft  gasp  escapes  her  lips.   ❝   aww,  baby!   ❞   she  squeaks,  sitting  up  against  the  pillows,  a  teddy  bear  digging  into  her  back.  she  rubs  her  eyes  as  if  in  disbelief.  she  wasn’t  really  expecting  anything,  knowing  that  they’re  on  a  budget,  but…  wow!  the  balloons  are  beautiful,  floating  above  her  head  and  she  marvels  at  them  with  sheer  wonderment.  curling  her  curious  finger  around  one  of  the  string,  she  pulls  gently  to  bring  one  of  them  down  before  releasing  it  again.   ❝   my  goodness,  is  all  this  for  me?  you  didn’t  have  to.  you  really  didn’t  have  to,   ❞   she  whispers  softly,  peeking  into  the  bags  and  spotting  the  most  thoughtful  combination  of  presents.  it  has  her  heart  expanding,  eyes  filling  with  tears  of  happiness.  he  must  really  pay  attention  to  what  she  likes,  the  stores  she  visits,  he  even  got  her  favorite  shades  of  lipsticks  right.  she’s  smiling  so  big  that  her  cheeks  begin  to  hurt,  the  tip  of  her  nose  tingling.  the  first  thing  that  she  pulls  out  are  the  stuffed  mickey  and  minnie.  she  hugs  them  to  her  chest  and,  before  unpacking  the  rest,  looks  up  at  her  boyfriend,  nothing  but  love  and  gratitude  brimming  in  her  eyes.   ❝   you’re  the  sweetest  boy  in  the  entire  universe,  axl.  this  is  the  best  birthday  ever!  i  love  it,  all  of  it…  the  balloons,  the  presents,  you.  i  love  you  so  much,  baby!  thank  you.  thank  you  for  making  my  day  so  special.   ❞   she  curls  her  arms  around  his  neck  and  hugs  him,  mickey  and  minnie  squished  between  their  bodies.  this  is  the  best  birthday  ever  all  because  she  gets  to  celebrate  it  with  her  favorite  person.  

[hellguarded-moved]

// btw i just wanna say i've always been huge on continuity. and i value each and every interaction, so you can be sure that if ig has met your muse, they're somewhere in his memory, they've made some sort of impression. while his story is still steadily evolving in the background for the most part, you can be sure your muse has had some effect on him on way or another.

[iiguess]

HEADCANON. Mind thought about Sam and her loving someone and I am! Absolutely rattling my little brain bars at how terrified she'd always be at first! Because Sam? Sam can have such a hard time opening up and trusting people.

Do you know how scary actually loving someone can be for that kind of person? For her to have her heart in the palm of someone's hands, to know that—-at any time, at any moment—-they could tear her to pieces? How easy it could be to prioritize what they want and shove her own wishes to the back of her mind out of fear? To give them ammunition to shoot her in the back and leave her? How much power they'd have?

Sam is a girl that can easily succumb to the worst case scenarios her mind comes up with. For her to actually realize she loves someone and chooses to continue loving them—-even after knowing how much they could hurt her?

I think it takes a lot of courage from her. Even if she never fully realizes it.

[stcrforged]

@fadedpath asked ❝ call me sentimental, but i worry about you. ❞ ( from zaahyr to dorian )

" amatus. " it was rare, to see a such great sadness resting in those deceiving silver eyes. it was as if a sea storm roamed inside him, his very soul. cold waves crashing against the hard rocks. the air howling. SCREAMING. one step was taken forward and a hand suddenly and softly touched the elf's cheek. free fingers searched for the other's, lacing them together. a gesture of comfort. of SOLACE. it had not been his intention to make his love worry about him. maker! zaahyr had been thorugh enough. the man had the WHOLE world on his shoulders. the quests and the burdens never ceast to exist. there was always more. it broke the mage's heart to see him worried. had it been a MISTAKE to fall in love? what if he wast just another burden to carry on already heavy shoulders? there was so much at stake.

lips pressed against hand, placing a GENTLE kiss on knuckles. emotions was not an easy conversation topic for dorian. he had been raised in a land full of crawling and venomous snakes. one mistake and it might lead to your death (revealing one's true feelings was always a mistake in tevinter). his heart was at a CROSSROAD. should he tell his other half what troubled him or should he simply say that there was nothing to worry about? it was tearing him apart. inside and out. a heavy sigh echoed between the walls. " i suppose you only will pester me until i speak the truth. " the corner of the mouth was raised, but it didn't reach the orbs of iron. the facade was CRACKING. it came rumbling down like an avalanche. " sometimes i worry that i, or rather, that this love, is only a mere burden for you. weighing you down. slowing you down. " the otherwise silky voice became hoarse and a small salty tear fell quietly to the floor. the sea storm was about to break free.

LOST MEME / accepting

[tvrningout-a]

chiyo, formerly a background character, suddenly experiencing main character moments after she was bitten bc that makes her a main character now?? yes and it's the silliest day of clichés and freaking out over inconvenient powers :' ))

[longagoitwastuesday]

Do you have favorite actors for the various roles in "Cyrano de Bergerac"? I would love to hear your thoughts!

I do! I actually rambled a lot about this while I was watching the different productions I could get my hands on (I tagged it "Cyrano de Bergerac" and "I talk too much").

My favorite productions are the one with José Ferrer and the one with Benoit Solès, and those actors make the best Cyranos in my opinion. Though that's probably something in part beyond the actors' choice, their dynamic with their respective Roxane and Christian are the best ones, I think, and I find how Cyrano moves around these two particular characters at the core of a good Cyrano characterisation.

José Ferrer's use of his voice, which is arguably Cyrano's true most characteristic feature, is unmatched imo (although McAvoy does a very good job with this too), and he manauvers very well several of the different aspects of the character, such as his playfulness, his shittiness and longing. By the end of the play you believe he is the most beautiful man on Earth. Cyrano, however, is a bit pathetic (not just in a "pathos" way), and I'd say Ferrer gives off an air full of dignity very fitting of many scenes, but that eats almost entirely this aspect of Cyrano; Benoit Solès manages this very well, while also playing well with some of the other ones, such as the playfulness, the longing, the pain and the despair. Both Ferrer and Solès are hilarious, tender, a bit shitty, vulnerable, playful and sad. Albeit neither of them portrays 100% what Cyrano is, I think both come pretty close in slightly different flavours, and by the end of the play one ends up being terribly fond of them.

My favourite Roxane is Clara Huet in the production with Benoit Solès, but Mala Powers in the 1950 film is a close second. I think they portray wonderfully Roxane's spunk, and her mix of honest playful cheerfulness and her haughtiness, her intelligence and wit, and how much like Cyrano she is.

I've not come to love for now any Christian as much as I've loved Ferrer, Solès, Huet and Powers, but again I think the Christians in the 1950 film and the Solès productions are very very good. I love the dynamic they have with their Cyranos, especially the one Christian and Cyrano have in the 1950 film, enhanced positively by the added scenes (they actually work so well in showing their developing as friends, their deep love and care for each other!). I don't want to expand too much on this to avoid spoilers (beyond the already known 'Christian dies' ones I mean), but some things they do with both these Christians are a thing of genius, and both feel vulnerable, kind, ready to fight and truly desperate at times; I like when they do that.

There's an Italian production which has a Cyrano I truly enjoy as well, despite how they dumbify him more than I usually like my Christians. His mix of anger and deep pain when he discovers Cyrano's feelings for Roxane were so well made, and his physical presence makes you identify who Christian is even before the play starts.

The Podalydès production has two different Christians. The one in the version on youtube isn't bad, but @ride-a-dromedary likes Éric Ruf a lot. I actually adore him based on the clips and gifs she's posted of him, but I haven't been able to find the version with him online, so I can't know. But he truly seems one of the best. Based on what little I've seen, I love his intense gazes and subtle gestures.

I'm not entirely sold on any Le Bret, De Guiche or Ragueneau yet.

I think the German musical has a decent Ragueneau in vibes, and the 1990 French film does as well. I found his poem made song for what I think is a Spanish production (I'm not sure if it's a fan creation based on the Spanish production), and while I've not been able to find that production online, the song works well in vibes too I think.

The German musical's Le Bret in vibes is very good. He encompasses well his deep love and worry for Cyrano while also being done with his shit. They truly feel like close friends. The 1950 film kind of combines Gaston de Castel-Jaloux and Le Bret into one character, which sadly changes Le Bret's dynamic with Cyrano a bit, but that's a very good Le Bret as well. The one in Solès' production is pretty good too. He has my favourite delivery of the scene in which Le Bret chastises Cyrano for risking his life sending letters.

De Guiche is complicated. I think productions often make him too pathetic and laughable or too bad, so bad it makes the last act kind of not make sense. The 1950 one, the 1990 French one, the Kevin Kline one and the Solès one are all good, but I am not passionate for any of them either.

And basically that's it!

[jewelthieves]

MESSAGE FROM BARBIE ROBERTS / @dollpink : "we had fun, didn't we?"

the last person she expected to come with her on this trip was barbie roberts — such a good person. morally, the opposite of ida jane. would barbie ever think to steal things from someone for her own benefit? she certainly didn't think so. “ yeah. yeah! we did. ” she cracks a grin at her friend, and lets out a sigh of relief, the sign of a job well done. “ i can't lie to you, barbie, i didn't think you were going to come. i'm glad you did though. don't think i could have charmed those guards like you can. is it an american thing? because i need to learn how to do that. ”

[despairforme]

hi toby! ive been a fan of your writing for a long time and the threads you had with your now deactivated partner, lexie, and i was wondering on why does nnoitra keep constantly thinking about grimmjow when nnoitra, himself, cheated on him and thinks that hes that deserving of having any form of relationship when he's a bad person. isn't he supposed to be this masculine guy that doesn't let stupid stuff get to him? wouldn't he just move on when grimmjow wants nothing to do with him? curious.

Ah, FUCK. He sure as shit didn't want to talk ( or think ) about this.

Isn't he supposed to be this masculine guy that doesn't let stupid stuff get to him?

Damn, he sure as hell wished things were that easy. If he could choose to NOT let stuff bother him, he'd have the best life ever. Unfortunately, he wasn't like that. He wasn't sure whether or not that had anything to do with his masculinity though. It wasn't like he was whining about his old relationship. He did think about Grimmjow quite a lot though, that was true. Was he not allowed to even think about him? His relationship with Grimmjow hadn't been some fling. It had been a deep, committed relationship. A connection that had lasted for many years. And Nnoitra had never loved ANYONE like he'd loved ( and, in a way, still loved ) Grimmjow.

First things first - the cheating.

Yeah, he'd cheated on Grimmjow, but that was not the full story. People usually said there was no excuse for cheating, and Nnoitra would agree. However, there was an explanation.

His relationship with Grimmjow had been falling apart. Not through arguments, but through a growing distance. Grimmjow had simply stopped giving him attention. Going without sex had been one thing ( Nnoitra had a huge sex drive, he needed to get laid ), but going without affection had been worse. Living with a person who didn't give him any attention what-so-ever. Feeling Grimmjow's love for him dwindle. Fade away. Nnoitra had ALWAYS feared that deep down, Grimmjow couldn't forgive him for what he'd done, and that that would eventually lead him to fall out of love with him. Having this fear unfold before him had been the worst. Nnoitra had never felt more unlovable than during those months. Yet, he'd held on. Hoping. That maybe Grimmjow would come back to him. Would look at him again. Touch him. Tell him: Sorry, I was going through something, but it's not your fault, I still love you. Of course, that didn't happen. It was just a fucking fantasy. OF COURSE Grimmjow would fall out of love with him. If he ever even loved him in the first place. Maybe their whole relationship was just built on Grimmjow trying to somehow cope with the trauma Nnoitra had caused him. Like a fucked up sort of Stockholm syndrome.

When Nnoitra had gotten a text from his ex, Kyota, asking to meet up, Nnoitra had hesitated. Even meeting up with Kyota while he was dating Grimmjow had felt wrong, but - in the end, he'd just NEEDED to see a friendly face. When he'd met up with Kyota at the bar, he hadn't had any plans of going to bed with him. Cheating on Grimmjow with Kyota hadn't been the plan.

But, when faced with Kyota's kindness, and the straight-forward invitation for a good fuck? Nnoitra hadn't resisted. He'd known he was throwing everything he had with Grimmjow away, and he'd chosen that. Just to feel close to someone. Just to feel good, for the first time in months.

He'd never told Grimmjow about the cheating, but maybe the other had figured it out somehow. In any case, one night Nnoitra had come home from work - Grimmjow had been gone. No goodbye. Nothing.

Why did his relationships always end with people leaving him without a word? Nnoitra had asked himself that many times. He wondered if the answer was that his partners were afraid of him. Maybe they were afraid he'd hurt them. Grimmjow had every reason to believe that, so Nnoitra couldn't blame him. Kyota too had left him like that. Without a word, even though Nnoitra had never hurt him. Perhaps he'd been able to see it anyway. See what kind of person Nnoitra was.

That was the story of how he'd cheated on Grimmjow. It wasn't like he'd excuse his behavior. However, he knew that if his relationship with Grimmjow had been good, he never would've done it.

Then, next - it was the matter of him thinking he was DESERVING of a relationship. This was simply not true. Nnoitra DIDN'T think he deserved to be loved. He knew he was a bad person. The worst kind of person, and there was no way he could ever hide that from anyone ( not that he even tried ). If someone managed to fall in love with him ( it could happen, since it had happened before ), they'd fall out of love with him when they saw his true self. There was only so long someone could lie to themselves about what Nnoitra was.

He didn't understand why this stranger thought he thought that he deserved a relationship. He WANTED one, sure. But that didn't mean he thought it was what he deserved. People usually didn't get what they deserved. They just got whatever random shit the universe decided for them. He'd pay for his sins when he died and ended up in hell. In the meantime... He sure would like to at least feel loved again. If only for a little bit.

Why was he so HUNG UP on Grimmjow? Why didn't he "just move on"? That sounded like some shit advice from someone who didn't understand. It was a cliche to say that, he supposed. He just didn't think that how things had turned out with Grimmjow could be classified as "stupid stuff". Stupid stuff was... When you dropped your phone, or someone gave you the wrong drink, or the bus didn't drop you off at your stop.

Having your fear of not being lovable confirmed by the person you loved the most in the entire world - that was not "stupid stuff". Moving past it wasn't that easy. ESPECIALLY when he hadn't gotten ANY sort of closure. It would've been easier if Grimmjow had broken up with him. Had told him everything straight out. Nnoitra would've preferred to hear him say: I DON'T LOVE YOU. Somehow, being left without a word was an even worse type of rejection.

It was unfair to say that he wasn't moving on at all, because - he was. He WAS looking ( though halfheartedly ) for a new partner. Be it a boyfriend or a girlfriend. Sure, he thought about Grimmjow from time to time, but not nearly as much as he had done a year ago. What was he supposed to do? Forget all about him? That wasn't happening. He'd known him since they were fifteen. How do you forget a person like that? He didn't even WANT to forget. He did want to move on though - or, to keep moving on. It was a process. It wasn't like stubbing your toe and "deciding to walk it off".

[alldarkling]

We will eventually write a meta on this, but, in short, I do very much love how Mephistopheles is so terribly and painfully aware that he and all others are trapped in the Narrative that is constantly repeating over and over and over and—

[notsolveda]

as a teenager stiles was really into old technology. and just technology in general. he spent hours researching and studying it. he would take it apart and put it back together. all because he thought it was cool and it gave him something to do with his hands. after his dad dies ( which is when he's in his late thirties ) and he has to go through the house he finds some of his old n.intendo's and other stuff that he had when he was a teenager. so he starts messing with those again. it gets him back into collecting and fixing them. and so he opens a space that's just for old technology to be fixed or sold to so people can buy for enjoyment or collectable items.