#[also jfc i am so sorry this is so long]

[bromcommie]

Helloho, for the ask game:

🔪 ⇢ what's the weirdest topic you researched for a writing project?

and

🧩 ⇢ what will make you click away from a fanfiction immediately?

Thank you! :)

Hi hi, thanks for the ask! <3 🔪 ⇢ oh man, not sure if this is that much of a weird one (or I just don't know what's normal anymore), but I do have several leaked CIA manuals saved as PDFs on my computer?? mostly just bc it's informative & horrifyingly eyeopening in general. I like to research a lot of sociopolitical stuff, or at least I try to, so a lot of highly specific Cold War/WWII/present day intelligence apparatus things tend to end up in my search history. Other than that not to go the "winter soldier + red room umbrella" cop out route, but...winter soldier + red room umbrella. Lots of layman's psychiatry & neuroscience, accounts of drug effects/use, lots of "asking for a friend but theoretically what would happen to your body long term if you had XYZ happen to you and walked away", waaay too much on JFK/other assassinations, lots of stuff on weapons specs and indoctrination and "gangs in St Petersburg in the 1980s?" and stuff like that.

Also like... which kinds of birds were native to NYC in the early 20th century and the relevance of catholic socialism in working class circles and medical papers on the side effects of the use of stramonium in asthma cigarettes, lol. (That might be one of the more specific ones, objectively.)

Again, this all feels pretty typical for Cap fics so idk how weird it is (and it's just a fun learning experience overall and mostly doesn't even end up in the writing) but I feel like my IP's on a lot of very confused yet suspect government lists at this point.

🧩 ⇢ oof, this one is rough. I try to always give fics with a good desc & tags benefit of the doubt, but I've also been around long enough that I can kind of tell if something's going to put me off, y'know? I guess I'm not a big fan of infantilizing adult characters or coddling relationships, especially if it's presented as an unproblematic given. I like softness as much as the next person, and I'm all for protectiveness and loyalty and comfort being at the core of both friendships and romantic relationships, but I like when it's a mutual thing that was arrived at after some time or even after it being a point of conflict/misunderstanding bc people deal with this stuff in many weird, differing, sometimes counterproductive ways.

In stevebucky fics esp while I love that element between them, I'm really not huge on Bucky bundling pre-serum Steve up to hide him away from the mean mean world, primarily because I think it would make Steve want to bludgeon him with a shovel for it repeatedly and Bucky would know that, and vice versa for them post-CATWS + dealing with each other's guilt (+ even and maybe especially the Sam-Steve relationship as it pertains to that as well). Which is not to say that I don't love to read about these conflicts being explored or a good "I want to help you PLEASE let me help you"/"you shut the fuck up and sit in the corner and hold my hand while I deal with my shit on my own" dynamic even if it's borderline unhealthy or codependent at a point - I just think it takes a bit of friction to make it interesting to read about and for it to arrive at a satisfying point in the end.

[perelka-l]

Hi, I’m the person who asked about Ghetsis and the paradox of his attitude towards N’s ability half a year ago. I’m very very sorry for taking so inappropriately long to answer, had a lot going on.

I gravitate towards the theory that N and Ghetsis might be distant relatives with a common ancestor, which would explain a lot of things, from physical similarities to the denial of fatherhood. They could have any other type of blood connection besides that of a parent a child - after all, royal family trees tend to be huge and messy. I think N comes from the direct lineage (which grants him special powers), while Ghetsis might be from an offshoot of the original family. In other words, the former is the legitimate successor of the king and has more rights to the throne. He’s also closer to their progenitor personality-wise.

(There are a couple of more reasons why I don’t think Ghet is N’s bio father. Taking into account the stigma surrounding adoption in Japan makes me wonder if there was an out-of-universe cause for portraying Lusamine more positively that Ghetsis. That is not to say the green satan should’ve been redeemed; imao both characters deserve to rot in hell. I just suspect that the writers only let Lusamine (and not the other villain) off the hook due to her being a biological parent. And speaking of parents... this one’s purely subjective, but I find it hard to envision Ghetsis in a stable, serious long-term relationship leading to pregnancy. Taking an orphan under your wing for evil purposes is one thing, but living with a s/o and having them bear your child is another. I don’t believe a “one-night stand gone wrong” scenario is plausible and fitting for his personality either).

As for the paradox, I’ve come up with three possible explanations.

1. Ghetsis got overwhelmed by plain old envy. Taking his royal origins very seriously, he brought together the sages, worked on searching the ruins, and adhered to a certain image. And then there was N, who simply happened to be born with the king’s abilities and in the right lineage, which automatically made him the true heir. Of course, this wouldn’t really matter to normal people, since Unova is no longer a monarchy and there’s no need for heirs, but it’s Ghetsis we’re talking about. All of his insults towards N could stem from jealousy and a sense of rivalry. I suppose observing how his adopted son just managed to resemble King Harmonia naturally (no pun intended) must’ve unnerved Ghetsis a lot. Oh, and their physical similarities could’ve added insult to injury, constantly reminding him that they share some dna, but N is still a more worthy descendant.

2. Ghetsis indulged in cherry-picking. Despite cherishing his legacy, he had his own weird ideas about ruling and disregarded some of the king’s tenets anyway (“Do not be barbaric”, “Think, act with love”, “Wars create tears”). Perhaps Ghet did consider the monarch freaky for the special ability but acknowledged his achievements nonetheless.

3. Double standards were at fault. He could excuse a great king talking to Pokemon but drew the line at some odd forest kid who fails to understand even humans doing the same thing.

TL;DR: 1) Ghetsis didn’t consider the ability inherently despicable, it’s just that he gave vent to envy and blind rage whenever his ward was concerned.

2) He viewed the trait as freakish indeed but avoided internal dissonance by focusing on historical facts he deemed favourable and downplaying/ignoring everything else.

3) It’s selective morality and mental gymnastics all the way down. He didn’t mind cutting the king some slack yet refused to extend the same courtesy to N.

Since I’m drawing on the assumption that the characters come from different branches of difference significance, I’m inclined to think Ghetsis cannot talk to Pokémon after all. Besides, if he could, he would’ve had a much easier time achieving his goals in BW.

By the way, I can’t stop thinking about just how much Ghetsis lost by pushing N away. He rejected not only his son but also an invaluable potential ally - an ally who could’ve aided greatly in his research. Teaming up with a genius who’s personally invested in exploring the ruins (who would’ve been invested had he known about his lineage, I mean) and possesses unique powers is a perfect scenario one could only dream of. Nevertheless, Ghetsis decidedly gave up that opportunity and let pride (perhaps along with envy) outweigh all other feelings, thoughts, and aspirations. In the end, pride managed to win over his interest in the heritage and over his reverence. That, in my opinion, is one of the greatest undoings of King Harmonia’s descendant. He chose to ruin his own life, to brutally sever ties with the only person in the world who genuinely loved him and who shared blood and legacy with him. You once wrote that Ghetsis holds answers to 90% of BW’s mysteries; well, the number could be brought to 100% if only he wasn’t an utter bastard.

Gosh, it has been months since this one arrived at my askbox and I just thought I would cook the answer over time and it never happened. Apologies for that. The time has come. Finally, guh!! So fret not anon, the pain of taking shitton of time to reply is mutual. So I think it's OK.

I also think about the common ancestor between those two, but more in an annoyed, grumbly manner of "fine, if it's not direct relation I will take anything". And indeed that could be a more canon-supported way of connecting those two, precisely for arguments you are mentioning.

(As a side note, though, in Pokemas Ghetsis says that they are not bound by blood. In same sentence calling him his son. Ngl I love the way Ghetsis riffs off on family ties to try and manipulate and/or hurt N. Amazing.)

But I would wonder about legitimacy - we kinda do know Ghetsis feels entitled to the crown and I don't think there is more to that than just hunger for power and N being the King of Plasma is entirely Ghetsis' idea...

(In a way, it's something that could not even hinge on N because, uh, USUM: in which Ghetsis planned to do exactly the same shit he pulled off in his universe (in which he already took over and succeeded in his plans) but with Giovanni of all people. But then, in that case Ghetsis doesn't have to add the element of being chosen by Zekrom/Reshiram, so maybe it's just a repeat run with no reasoning but pieces aligning.)

But my point is - Ghetsis' idea of him being the one deserving the power he craves doesn't come purely from his own hunger, I think. But then, he couldn't become the chosen hero. If he could, it would make things much more simple for him and wouldn't bother with finding/arranging N. Which is... something I can't help but wonder about, what would N be if Ghetsis wasn't here.

I don't know about stigma of adoption in JP, could you elaborate? 

And yeah, admittedly I am also a bit disappointed about Lusa being protrayed with significant backpedal to her evil - even despite SM compounding that ultimately she wasn't entirely in control of her own actions. I also think that what you say now is also what happened in B2W2 - the blood relation between N and Ghetsis wasn't elaborated upon, being more left vaguely in the air in BW while it was B2W2 that compounded the lack of relation. Which is... sad, really. And not the only thing I am :/ about in terms of things spoken out loud and simplified in B2W2 that in BW were implied or left unsaid (shadow triad theory my beloved ;;;A;;; )

I entirely agree about points with Ghetsis not being able to sustain any relationship (c'mon, it's Ghetsis.) (on that note I always remember that one fantastic kinkmeme fic about Ghetsis being actually woman dressed as a man and getting her child from Alder by manipulation, 10/fucking 10, but I am carried away over here) and I think one night stands would be entirely beneath him. But I think there is no need to consider, shall we say, normal ways of prgnancy and if anything, I wouldn't be surprised if Ghetsis tried to go for less moral means, starting with manipulation and ending with force.

I did now write a bit about 1. (look, I am replying as I read and think OK, I am not good with structured writing stuff) but in a way I think it's important that symbolism carries weight in Pokemon World while history is in a way pushed aside or bestowed upon small group of individuals as lore or hidden knowledge that does ultimately carry great power. I always wonder what happened first - did Ghetsis reach out to the lore and hidden knowledge because of his own background and that inspired him to try and reach for power? Or did he reach for it in his search for power?? Just another mystery.

(which, hilariously, N wondered about in Pokemas either: Sometimes I wonder what his... What Ghetsis's past was like. I don't know anything about his parents or his childhood... I wonder if I ever will." Man, those lines made me froth at mouth a bit ngl)

You mentioning physical similarities is one thing I adore to ponder about with those two, but when you throw the theory that Ghetsis due to his Harmonia lineage can understand Pokemon speaking... and considering how he treats that ability in N, there could be some repressed rage at himself, and that would only add fuel to injury to seeing the way N reaches what he cannot. (Which kinda breaks the point number 3 for me wwwww Ghetsis is a bit of a hateful individual)... My point is: yeah, he hates that and surpresses that. He could have used that to his own goals, but I don't think he would even admit that he can do such a monstrous thing.

Re: 2, I wonder if he misinterpreted / chose to misinterpret the tenets less as what to do and more as what to portray. To be fair, Ghetsis can be perfectly charming and polite (kind, if you ask him, but ahah, yeah, right) and maybe he used those rules as tips and tricks how to manipulate the masses.

Ghetsis indeed fucked up royally (lol) by revealing his cards too soon (in Pokemas as well, really, he could have carried on that act of disgraced and regretful father for so much longer). But then, I am a little not surprised he did, in BW. He did spend a good few years playing someone he is not and the moment he could throw away the mask was surely a relief, and he believed so deeply he'd succeeded that he didn't think of keeping it on his face for just a tiny bit more, as a failsafe. Indeed, he could do so much more, but he detested N too deeply and believed in how own capabilities too much. Pride and hatred and indeed, envy, no matter which angle we use to look at it.

Ultimately, that's why he is a villain and why he lost, not even once but twice.

[broodygaming]

getting to know u

tagged by @highwayphantoms i always feel so silly doin these but i think ur really neat so ill do it anyways haha

do you play any instruments: yeah sorta! i played flute in middle school and prob could carry a tune still and i like piano but never practice and am just okay.

favourite book characters: yoo idk, lol. Usually whoever from whatever im reading currently, which is the The hunger games for the bazillionth time. UMMM. Okay. Tohru Honda from fruits basket, Liesel from the book thief and idk, Rhia from the Merlin series by TA Barron. Sure.

what's your star sign: idk, I think Capricorn? haha

favourite colour schemes: cotton candy colors! Cool tones, black and white, greys, love pink and blue mostly. My bedroom walls are like bubblegum pink and cotton candy blue.

naps or long sleep: the elusive third answer, short sleeps haha. I have insomnia it's super cute and quirky /s

what languages do you speak: Just English. And enough welsh I feel cool but not enough to do anything functional.

dreams/aspirations: Getting through the day. Not having to go grocery shopping ever again. I have an image of me sitting against a fence looking up at these tomato plants growing over my head and the sun coming through the green leaves and I'm comfortable and warm and I think I'm on my way to That.

long or short hair: I'd like it to me long but I've had it literally every length. Including once I did a mohawk and it was buzzed buzzed on like 80% of my head haha. But it wont grow past my bra strap, ever. So meh. Medium forever.

tea or coffee: lol both but I do drink an entire pot of coffee on the daily. I love some good tea tho.

bring a book character to life or go into a fictional world: Ya know there's a whole book series by cornelia Funke on why this is a bad idea. But also I'd go into a fictional world any day. Bye world! I'm going through the wardrobe. Hopefully in a less christian coded one than that reference. Something with dragons. I'd like to see a dragon. Even if it means a painful death. Worth it.

[angstandhappiness]

VERY FASCINATING, So MK and SWK is the classis JTTW slow-burn family feels while Macintosh and MK is the volatile, enemies-to-begrudging ally-to maybe friends

What are your in depth thoughts about MK’s and Sun Wukong’s vs MK’s and Macaque’s relationships? Because lemme tell you I’ve got so many it’s essay worthy

i saved you for last <3 but i honestly don't know if i can talk about this coherently T^T

short answer: they are on different levels in 2 ways, MK's comfortability and in how they grow

long answer: *inhales*

so you see, there are many levels that are set between the two relationships. and by levels i mean power dynamics, casualness, formalities, respect, and idolization :)

MK and Sun Wukong

with MK and Sun Wukong their relationship began very formal. MK was simply Wukong's student (with a wish to one day be close friends with his mentor/idol), but then by around 1x09, there becomes this shift in their dynamic. in this episode, we do get insight into how far Wukong actually cares for MK because for about most of s1, the monkey keeps his distance while putting up a laid back attitude. but after MK admits to his desire of being "good enough, like [Wukong]," you will notice that Sun Wukong, slowly starts to pull down his walls for MK. he even invites MK to stay over with him for New Years (2x00), despite knowing that it was more likely for MK to leave and celebrate with his friends. (WHICH MK EVEN SAYS BECAUSE BY THIS POINT MK COMES TO REALIZE THAT THEIR RELATIONSHIP MIGHT NEVER BREACH INTO THE FRIENDSHIP HE ROMANTICIZED IN HIS HEAD. THUS SHOWING HOW THE TWO ARE DOING A REVERSE IN THEIR DYNAMIC AND- *gets dragged away to calm down*)

as i was saying.

in s2, Wukong ends up leaving to investigate a way to stop LBD before things blow over (which succeeds and fails bc it did, in fact, blow over). he didn't do it because he believed that it would hurt MK. personally, my assumption is that Sun Wukong didn't really see himself as that great of a mentor and that MK had been able to quickly pick up on new moves and techniques without much help from him, and with that thought, he believed that by leaving MK nothing but scrolls and a goal, MK would still be capable of mastering the new skills (which he did, thereby reinforcing that idea). but unfortunately, our beloved monkey king forgot that while MK is a very capable individual of incredible power, he's not confident in himself. he's simply "just loud" about himself and his prowess (which, if you noticed, MK grew even more quieter about this in seasons 2 & 3....fascinating).

so now there's this manufactured push to bring back their previous formality because Wukong is not completely ready to tell MK the truth despite how much he cares and trusts him (because, and this is my opinion, Wukong really wants to ensure that MK is not too involved in something as dangerous as LBD because she can get into your head and she can make matters worse for everybody). said manufactured push confuses MK because they had come so far from 1x01 and the distance they had before. sure, it's not as close as s3 and s4, but it definitely felt like they were at the cusp of something. this leaves MK sort of in his own limbo on where he stands with the Monkey King, and even if he sought advice about this with his friends, none of them have met the guy yet and can only make opinions based on their assumptions of what they feel like is going on (*cough, cough* Pigsy *cough, cough*).

and even after s2, in s3 Wukong is exhausted, a lot of his power depleted, and has to try and mingle civilly with MK's friends on a mission he originally planned to do alone (a suicidal mission to obtain the Samadhi Fire, if i might add). his reasoning for refusing at the beginning is because they are mortals, which MK misinterprets to mean that Wukong does not think MK can handle this mission and wants to prove himself.

omg their relationship is so complicated and messy T^T i love it

anyway, MK's and Sun Wukong's relationship is a push and pull between both people wanting to uphold and prove their worth to the other (Wukong lying to keep MK ignorant of a danger the monkey plans to eradicate in secret VS MK pushing himself into becoming powerful in order to prove himself as someone swk sees as worthy to trust). also, their dynamic is literally a platonic slow burn that slowly brings them closer and closer with s4 beginning with them (swk mostly lol) trying to be more honest and upfront about their thoughts and feelings. and s4 ending with the two actually fighting for each other and protecting each other and fighting WITH each other and T^T it's so beautiful. but also because their dynamic is a slow burn, that provides ample time to seed in doubt and insecurities and wanting to bottle up your issues to keep the peace and-

ugh T^T them <3

(side note: the actual timeline of this show is a tad confusing to me. how long was s1? a month, a couple months, a week? how long was s2? how long is the gap between seasons???? idk and i've tried to find something feasible to work with but i'm mostly just taking an "academic" estimation)

but now onto Macky and MK's relationship!

Mackenzie and MK

this one despite how rocky it looks is not a slow burn dynamic. it's got a fun roller coaster of levels because it goes "secret mentor/student" to "enemies" to "frenemies?" to "morally dubious but is actually a softie" to "potential mentor 2.0???" and i love it.

so, MK and Macky's dynamic begins in 1x09 (the blessed episode) since that's Mackackle's introduction to the show and MK begins to train under him in secret because MK is frustrated with swk's teaching methods. through the brief montage of MK's training, i can't help but notice the words and phrasing Macky uses:

Mackarell: [sounding disappointed] Not bad...[chuckles] [in a mocking tone] don't get me wrong, but I was expecting a little more with someone of your power. MK: [is defensive] H-hey, I've got more- I can give way more than that! [sighs] I can do better. Macaroni: [bemused] Kay, maybe show me next time.

ok, honestly, i just wanna talk about this. because if you heard it without seeing Marconi's face and how they animated him, you could side-step the the fake disappointment and mocking tone. what he's saying on the surface, isn't anything malicious or cruel. he is acting like a mentor and it appears like he is trying to encourage MK so he can stop hesitating. but that's not what Mac's really doing.

he is acting disappointed in MK because MK has a need to prove himself. the scene before MK meets Macaque, he is with Wukong and is frustrated by how slow his training is. he knows he can do some pretty powerful moves if his mentor allowed him to, if only he can prove to him that he can level up from the "baby stuff", if only he could have someone see that potential and train him in something more his "style." how convenient that right after he vents his frustrations MK encounters exactly what he wants, but oh no, they're disappointed in his strength and prowess, he has to prove that wrong, he CAN prove that wrong.

see where i'm going? MK fell for Macky's web, hook-line-and-sinker because it was tailor made for him. BUT! this mentor/student dynamic does not last very long. and that's mostly because it never a long term relationship in the slightest. Macky always planned to use MK's powers for his own, so now the two are slotted into the enemies level. they were never on equal ground like MK thought, or even on a similar mentor/student level MK has with Wukong. Macaquack absolutely abused that dynamic for his own gain and MK lost his trust for it.

MK cannot trust Macky, why should he? in s2, MK and Macky's relationship is mostly antagonistic because Mk cannot trust Mac and Mac enjoys tormenting the guy by hanging his insecurities over him. they are not on equal ground. Mac only sees MK as some mortal child who is in over his head and thinks he can be a Wukong 2.0 while MK sees Mac as someone who betrayed his trust, tried to kill him and his mentor and it is very personal.

but then there's this interesting choice made by lmk. Mac warns MK of an upcoming danger. why does he do it? he had just proven that he is an enemy! but also, he ends up freeing MK's friends on the basis that it "wasn't fun anymore". why take pity (should we even call it pity) on MK enough to tell him that "big things are coming"?

why choose to give MK some (very vague) advice about what's to come? what caused Macky to decide to offer this information?

well, 1st it is clearly the writers' way of showing that there is more than meets the eye with Macky. this is a little indicator for the audience about "hey! keep an eye on him! he's more complex than you think! he's more than a stock villain!" 2nd, this is the very first push into Mac's more amiable relationship with MK.

in s3, Macky is under LBD's command and has to follow her orders or else she might send him back to the Diyu either by ripping his soul from his body, or encasing him in ice/bone. he is only on her side to survive. he doesn't even plan to stay. instead, it really looks like Mac wants to escape from her hold (which he eventually plans out after learning about the gang's mission to find the Rings of Samadhi).

when it comes to MK, Mac is very antagonistic. @shadowpeachyuri made a really great analysis on Macky's antagonistic behavior in s3. especially in 3x04 where he taunts and mocks MK for his self worth and powers, but he's also stalling from his own mission in retrieving MK for LBD. most of s3 is him stalling and picking fights with people rather than do his own job. not to mention, that he purposefully separated MK and Wukong believing it would be easier to retrieve them. but why all the stalling and hesitation? because he's upset with his circumstances, and wants to take out on everyone? yeah, that's definitely part of it.

still in s3 Mac is not trying to befriend MK, he's not trying to help him either, but he also isn't truly trying to catch him. his main objective is getting out of dodge, escaping and finding somewhere that is far from here. yet, he can't help but challenge MK into using his powers, offer some (very biased and skewed) advice on who the guy should trust. and it's not until "Embrace Your Destiny" when his on-again and off-again mood finally gets to MK because he saved MK, he brought MK to Mei and he gave them the Not-Mayor guy for information.

just...this whole exchange T^T

Mackardy: Look, I brought you the Lady Bone Demon's lapdog, but I'm not up for being a hero, kid.

here lies, Macky trying to tell MK that he is not on his side. he has been constantly antagonistic and while LBD is also his enemy, he was planning to just give MK and his gang enough help for them to plan out how to defeat her.

MK: We don't need you to beat him. We just need you to keep him busy. As long as he's [Monkey King] under her control the Mech's vulnerable. We can do this! You can do this.

enter MK, looking at Macky with such optimism and arguing back at Macky with the guy's own logic. it won't be a battle to try and defeat Wukong, Macky just has to "keep him busy". Stall, like he's been doing for all of s3. and he sprinkles in a bit more optimism and encouragement to sweeten the deal.

Macaroon: Nice speech, kid but it's not gonna- MK: [frustrated growl] STOP! You keep playing at being this bad guy, acting like you're just in it for you! But I know deep, deep down: you're not that guy. Help us. Make it right. Macadoodle: I'm not a hero, bud MK: Then be a warrior!

personally, i feel like this is the moment where the two's new dynamic begins. also, Macky and MK's relationship feels a but more on equal footing. neither of them hold a pedestal or an image of who they are. MK is able to figure out that a lot of Macky's outward appearance is just that, an appearance. and Macky is able to see that MK isn't some Wukong 2.0 he imagined up in his head in s1. MK is the Monkey King's successor but he is also his own person who will and has made different decisions than Wukong.

after s3, their dynamic is very similar to mentor/student in 4x10, but not in the same way as in 1x09. Macky isn't trying to be manipulative or play with double meanings, he's actually trying to help and figured a video game rpg would be the best bet since MK likes video games. MK is able to snap back at Macky and isn't afraid of showing the monkey his worries and fears (something he's struggling to with Wukong and vice versa) because Macky has seen that side of him already.

idk it's fascinating. i feel like i'm repeating myself a lot, but my main takeaway is that MK and Wukong have a slow burn friendship that began with formalities and over the seasons, they gradually grew closer and more comfortable with admitting that they care about each other (mostly Wukong needed this help but it's ok). and MK and Macky's relationship though began as enemies, grew into 2 characters who view each other as equals by the end and respect ach other loads.

there be my thoughts *jazz hands*

[tychos-huzband]

finally making an intro post lol

(after however long ago 9/16/23, 5:03:16 PM was lmao)

Charlie/C/Nny/Jack/John/Johnny/Robbie/Lemon/Onion/Lemon Cookie/Jimmy/David/Shaggy/Ethan/Anthony/Ant/Evan/Tutter/William/Err/Dan/Meat/Chandlo/Cappucceetle/Instabug/Homestar/Terminator/Fry/Fred/Filbo/Francis/Anonymous/Anon/Sans/Sire/Snorpy/Stanley/Steve/Bunger/Allen/Al/Maxwell/Strabby/GIR/Bopsicle/Dionysus/Vincent/Daniel/Dennis, in order of preference

(pink = main name, green = other actual name, blue = nickname, green-blue = both/uncertain)

[[not a system at all i just have a shit ton of names i like the sound of and decided to steal!!]]

FORMALLY benatars-slut and foxxys-huzband

he/it in order of preference

⬇️ strawpage for basic info ⬇️

⬆️read this first⬆️

extra info

nicknames are great, but i really prefer my true name(s) being used, sorry :<

i'm canonically autistic and am suspected by many to also have adhd

trans boy with issues between me and my entire biological bloodline

puppy otherkin (some sort of golden retriever/cockerspaniel, but either way am puppy :3)

SON of @fluxxdog and @silelda , as seen in The Bio™ (they're very cool)

my favorite color is purple

i'm really emotionally sensitive

i apologize a lot because i tend to be a huge people pleaser

my favorite safe food is definitely campbell's chicken noodle soup with instant ramen coming in close second

i have WAY too many interests to count jfc

my discord is charlie_the_foolish and my newgrounds is chaoticallyGeneric

i also play ponytown! (my ponytown username is AutisticAdamSandler)

my main ponytown character is mostly just the newest cosplay i've made but here's what's supposed to be my main sona:

i fucking LOVE community and abed nadir is the #1 autism rep unless weird al gets officially diagnosed or hussie confirms that gamzee makara is autistic

scene boy wannabe...

Oopsy Bear and Homsar haters DNI those are my SONS

i'm a minor but i do occasionally make/reblog lewd jokes so let me know if you're uncomfortable with that!!

i'm just here to vibe babey

my roleplay sideblogs!!!

Sunflower (Plants vs. Zombies 1): @sunflower-official

Allen the Magic Goose: @some-stupid-goose

Charlie (Community OC): @your-fave-college-wreck

my "your fave" sideblogs.

@yourfavelistenstostreetlight

@yourfaveistotallykarkalicious

[where-does-the-heart-lie]

So, having been hit by a truck when I was like, 14/15? And still having the scars where they had to put in the screws and pins to hold my pelvis together and all this, is incredibly relatable.

I barely got a look at the guy who hit me, but if I had to sit in the same room with him-

Jfc, poor Sabo. I’m also, SHOCKED, that Ace hasn’t beat the fucker’s face in. Cause I would’ve.

Im glad i could represent your experiences! i hope my writing going forwards also resonates with you

I really am terrified of trucks. I went to a car dealership a few months back and no joke, some of the front hoods were almost as tall as i am. Granted, I'm fairly short (5'2"), but if one of those hit me. dead. death. like the first thing it could do would be hitting my head.

Theyre so vastly excessive even if youre using them for their intended purpose. They keep getting bigger and bigger just to hike up prices and make you spend more on gas and there needs to start being some larger regulation on them.

There's a lot of places that have banned them in residential areas and i think we're on the right track with that. I also think further licenses should be required to be able to drive them.

also like

this post was made long after i had written up what happened to sabo, and this experience only solidified my stance more.

shits crazy.

I'm so sorry that happened to you, I hope you've healed both physically and mentally from it and had loving family around to help you through it.

Thanks for the ask!

[sundogsandrainbows]

Hi, I'm sorry to write to you out of the blue, but Of Elves and Humans was the first DA longfic that got me hooked back in 2011 when I, as a dumb teen, happened to pick up DAO. Ever since then, the DA universe has been a constant fixation of mine and my admiration for you as a writer as well as someone who isn’t afraid to call out the franchise's flaws has never wavered. Now that Bioware decided to take a massive shit on everything pre-DAV and their oldest fans specifically, I'm really devastated and feel like a fool for having been so invested in DA and its lore for those past 13 years. It’s incredibly encouraging, however, to see you keep on keeping on. "So since they spat in my face like this I ignore this atrocity of a game even exists" is where I hope to be at soon, too. Thank you.

(First of all apologies for the late reply, I put it in my drafts when i was too tired to complete it, and then my adhd brain forgot it existed due to being distracted by new shinies 😂☠)

But aww omg i cannot believe i was the gateway drug into dragon age, or rather the old version of my story on FFN was. I am so very honored <3 And nonnie, I feel you. I am invested in DA as a series since DA:O's release in 2009, like I bought it on a whim for XBox because I liked Mass Effect 1 sm. So that is 15 yrs of my life i spent loving and discussing a thing while still being critical of the thing, but now i feel so very protective of the world, lore and its characters that "New Bioware" has decided to take a massive dump of shit on, and not only the games but the old fans I feel are treated with disdain too and do not matter to them any longer.

Long, subjective rant about current bioware aka the shambling corpse of its former self and talent incoming. Spoilers for Veilguard bc i don't give a fuck to avoid them :D You (general you, not you in particular dearest nonny <3) should use your time better than to play this shit anyhow 😂

It feels like calculated malice of new Bioware to apply the scorched earth tactics to offscreen destroy everything that old fans and fans of the other games in general held dear, and was supposed to suck out the enjoyment of DAO, DA2 and DAI. Like it is obvious they plan to create a sequel on DA's scorched bones, but jfc, you can do so story-wise without spitting everyone loving what old bioware has built in the face after dropkicking them. But to me that is part of the problem, since if i remember correctly and i wish i could find the bit... they praised Veilguard as "The best Dragon Age game ever", with the most interesting companions and best most improved combat system, comparing it to the other three games in a near smug fashion. There is marketing and there is putting the other games down to prop up your most favorite and only child mattering and they were definitely doing the latter. And don't get me started on the whole "Who is Zevran" debacle or we are gonna here all day.

Bottom line is new/current devs and writer do not give a shit about and very possibly have never played any other game than Inquisition, and you cannot tell me otherwise. And since a lot of devs/writer have left since the start of this project that would become this abysmal game, I also have the impression that there is a lot of underlying resentment toward what these former colleagues have created and so they piss on it in order to make it fully theirs now. Like dogs marking their territory, and well that did not work out, imo. At all.

Ever since they announced respecting our past choices by ignoring them (????) it was clear to me that I would not play Veilguard but just watch a playthrough and all spoilers and then move on. And everything i saw before release was shocking... like i was flabbergasted at how baaaad the dialogue was, which as a writer myself is super important to me in my story. There was no subtext, characters just blurt out everything they think and feel, like a lifeless doll you squeeze and words tumbling out and just as natural. It is stilted, awkward and 80% of it exists for info dump or info dumb rather as they keep repeating the same shit they just told you a few seconds ago as if you as the player are braindead. Here is a good example of what i mean.

Jfc, who edited this crap? There is so much superfluous dialogue that adds nothing to a scene but annoyance for the player and says nothing at all. Just pure senseless yapping in the most cringy way. Why was no one there to trim this nonsense as you should as a writer/editor? Hell, they really disregarded every simple and basic writing rule (everything is told never SHOWN for example especially in dialogue) which really made me question their competence in what they were doing and thus the quality of the upcoming game but i still held out hope for it to not be that bad.

Well shit, it was even worse. In all regards. Especially the writing that cringed this writer into a new dimension with its incoherent incompetence. Jfc. they got paid for that? I'm convinced the majority of fandom writer can do much better, even unpaid. Hell my cat just by walking over the keyboard can manage a better draft and script...💀

But I digress. That is a rant for another time. Point is, nonny, despite my defiant words, I struggled too for days after i got to know the full extent of Bioware's spiteful fuckery to even look at anything da related, in my case my Alistair/Mahariel longfic. I was really down for a few days, ngl. Then again, there is nothing better than spite fueling my creativity to prove "i can write better" soooo in the end and with the help of the much better first version of DA4 in the artbook, I was able to exorcise the demons and feverdream-mindfuck of mediocrity sold to me as a turd with gold-glitter that is this game.

I have successfully now rejected its existence, filled the void with the version that should have been from the artbook and vowed to give no fucks what bioware is doing or saying and infinitely more fucks when writing my own version of thedas and the version of DA4 that should be. REWRITES BBY hell yeah. So OEAH:R is just the beginning of a verse-wise rewrite. But if you need a pick me up, nonny, you are very much welcome to take a trip down memory lane to Dragon 9:30 and see how much this iteration of the story differs from my first one back in the days. Because in this house of mine, we grow and learn as writers, unlike bioware where writer ego reigns surpreme (oh boy and does it ever show in VG) aka eating their own turds and tell themselves it is the finest chocolate 💀

There is still a lot of good about DA out there, but we have to accept it does not come from Bioware any longer. Instead it came, comes and will come from the fans and creators of art and texts and words defying their bullshit with their love and respect for the world, its lore and characters. Also very unlike Bioware.

As we should <3

[gemsofgreece]

https://lithub.com/enduring-epics-emily-wilson-and-madeline-miller-on-breathing-new-life-into-ancient-classics/

What's with Madeline miller and Emily wilson claiming that they are bringing something new in Greek mythology and being applauded for it?

Emily also is a translator and from what i read completely changed the meaning of words and characters like calling Agamemnon a cannibal king. A translator's work isn't making their own story on top of the old one.

It's disrespectful to Homer's work and he gets overshadowed by modern authors that push modern ideologies into classic works that should have stayed neutral.

Why are western writers like this ??? 😖😖😖 I read the interview and I would say some parts of it were okay but I will mention here the ones that gave me secondhand embarrassment:

My god, this can’t be real. The literature class in American school has messed up many brains. Dogface, κύνοψ in Ancient but surviving in Modern as σκυλομούρης - σκυλομούρα is a swear word. More precisely dog-face could mean someone ugly whose face looks like a dog’s, but it could also imply a cruel looking face, a lowlife whose lowlifeness is evident in their face and so on. The struggle of modern translators and academics is unreal - “we can’t use a bad word for a woman - perhaps she meant dog-face as a symbolism of loyalty, of a fierce huntress like Artemis, of an obedient and long lasting friend uwu” - no sweetie she meant: “I hate myself, I am a bitch and as repulsive as one”. Sorry. Meanwhile, swear word for a man; “Clearly, it can’t just be a swear word spoken in anger, Agamemnon must in fact be a cannibal” 🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️

Yeah, great. Just head on acknowledging that Iliad is not as queer as young American audiences are misled to believe. I love how there is a vibe of apologism in the air because Wilson, as a translator, didn’t have the endless entitlement to go as berserk on the characters as Miller did. I also love the iconic addition that “admittedly there aren’t many queer warriors and athletes in American culture” so she implies they have to keep Patrochilles (🤦‍♀️) at any cost! NEWSFLASH: ACHILLES AND PATROCLUS ARE NOT A PART OF AMERICAN CULTURE!!! Whether gay or straight friends - they are not part of your Marvel and DC culture!!! Oh my god!!!

What’s your business responding to readers’ expectations, Emily? Your business is to translate Homer for English audience. Whether they will like it or not, it’s their business. You are not appointed to “excuse” Homer to anyone or make him palatable to Marvel fans! Jfc

I will say I agree with her that Achilles and Patroclus’ relationship is ambiguous but I hate that she clearly dreads to openly admit that for fear of what American 17 year olds will feel about it. It is another example of how the last years the definition of truth has morphed into what one wants to hear rather than what is factually the case.

[thatdeadaquarius]

Reader that can emit sounds from their memory(like as an aura)

Walk into a room? Why do I hear boss music

Comedic timing? Fuck yeah.

Bored? Jumpscare noise.

Zhongli talking? Jeopardy theme.

Someone is annoying? Earrape.

Think about it!

Hello! I’m the 12th Harbinger, aka as CHIL- bitch shut the fuck up, WHATS UP ITS YA BOY AQUARIUSSS- /ref

lmao imagine you walking into a room like this in teyvat, with like that audio I SAVE BY GIVING IT CPR- TIGHT AS VIRGIN BOY DONT GET NERVOUS-

(also ill stop apologizing for the late replies to these, bc as we all know by now that im slow and u will get answered eventually i promise tumblr most likely didnt delete u guys asks im just hoarding them LMAO)

I’ve been super busy running in circles so sorry about ghosting! I still very much enjoy and love u guys and love seeing you guys enjoy my stuff :’) 

Still cant believe that, but thank you!

JEOPARDY THEME MUSIC WHEN ZHONGLI TALKS

HE’D BE SO CONFUSED

THINKIN HE GOT AN ANCIENT CURSE HE DOESNT KNOW ABT PUT ON HIM OR SMTH BC HE’S ALWAYS BEING STALKED BY THIS SONG-

(tbh unless the person is super observant I dont think most ppl would get that it’s YOU causing this chaos lmao)

◇

Like I can see Zhongli eventually getting it lol, other ppl I could see after the first few weeks of interacting with you (esp bc you mix it up, honestly it was only bc u kept playing the jeopardy theme over and over when Zhongli ranted on too long that he got it was you 💀):

Heizou (he’s the best detective on all of Inazuma’s islands, ofc he got it! no he will not acknowledge that he totally thought you were hiding a very musical tanuki somewhere on your person at all times lol)

◇

Alhaitham and Cyno (haitham took like, two hours of walking around town with you and knew, bc he’s a little know-it-all lazy bastard like that, and Cyno is actually just really aware, despite what most ppl think, he’s the General Mahamatra and not just a regular Mahamatra for a reason after all)

◇

Tighnari (i stg he can like, smell when bullshittery is happening in his vicinity …or... hear?)

◇

Venti (unsurpringly, he’s totally in love with this power of yours, i mean he definitely loves you cares about you a lot he says, but you’re starting to think he’s just lying to butter you up into pranking Diluc, Barbara, Jean, and really the entirety of Mondstadt more often  including Zhongli just so he can laugh until he’s on the ground again, also he definitely once asked you to make a dragon sound that’s the equivalent of shouting FUCK at Dvalin when he was flying overhead one day)

◇

Hmm

Hm hm hmmmm

Who elseee, i need a characcctterrr lisstttt…

Albedo (duh, he’s albedo, you think he has an entirely too thick folder dedicated to your recent obsessions, you rant a lot about it while playing and also he can access your browsing history 👀, and he somehow doesn't know that about you?? You’re like, literally one of his long-term, there-for-life, has-bought-a-house-for-free-in-his-head-you- arent-even-on-rent-anymore, hyperfixations or special interests. Autistic!Albedo is autistic, Because I Am Your God, And I Say It Is So.)

◇

Dehya (always knows when its you walking around near her bc you like to listen to your old world’s songs too often when you arent pranking bitches, she actually rlly likes it and your music tastes…)

☆

HOLY FUCK SPEED RUN BC GOD THERE’S TOO MANY BITCHES WANNA BE YOUR BABY, RIDING AROUND IN A DAMN MERCEDES-

OKAY-

SO not all in the same way or at the same time, or even the same length of time did they realize you literally change background music or some shit so I’ll let you just- you know okay- like you get it- you get it.

Xiao, Kazuha, Kaeya, Diluc, Ayato, Yae Miko, Keqing, Qiqi, Klee, Sara, Kuki, Nahida, Ningguang, Rosaria, Scaramouche/Babygirl, Dainsleif, Kokomi, Xinyan, Yun Jin, Yelan. 

Jfc got the whole damn pride flag up here

Anyway everybody else outta luck, at least takes em a month or longer to get it lol

♡

Sorry abt the end there i didnt feel like writing out all those bitches bc the few I did before were already longer than I thought they’d be…

Also, I am posting these spam of drafts (and that old follower 100+ event possession headcanons in prep for the next 2 weeks bc I will be really busy, again :/

Got spring break shenanigans this week, then I’ll be running around like a cat with zoomies bc im getting ready to install/actually submit my artworks for the gallery exhibition! 

…wish me luck or prayers or anything good from any god you believe in, I need the strength. 

With love, safe travels,

💀♒️

♡the beloveds♡

@karmawonders / @0rah-s / @randomnatics / @glxssynarvi / @nexylaza / @genshin-impacts-me / @wholesomey-artist

[wutheringmights]

Thank your for the chapter. This is me submitting my request for director's commentary.

Sorry this is very late.

But, you know.

*gestures wildly at the state of the world*

This is the first chapter in a long time where I was actively having fun writing more than 30% of it. Writing doesn’t always have to be “fun” for me to write it, but spending most of this year stuck on two chapters I absolutely hated did a number on me. 

I still didn’t get to everything I wanted in this chapter; I have been trying to get to the fallout for the Knights of Hyrule encounter for most of this year now (jfc!), but I’ve had to expand the plot points leading up to it. This entire Castle Town arc was planned to be one chapter. Past Frankie was insane for thinking that was possible. 

Pacing-wise, this chapter really did need to be on its own. The important plot points needed their own space to breathe; trying to shove all of this and the contents of the next chapter into one would have led to a lot of things being overshadowed. So even though everything is still moving along relatively slowly, the pacing is somewhat on purpose this time. 

As previously stated on this blog, I sorely neglected updating AO3 with the new chapter total. There is 6 chapters left (5 plot chapters, then an epilogue). Rest easy. This story will take me a while longer yet to complete. 

That being said, don’t be too surprised if I keep budgeting in more chapters. But if this story needs more than 40 chapters, I will abscond from society and become a sheep herder in, like, Iceland.  

(Sorry to front-load the housekeeping information; I usually keep this stuff for the end,  all of this provides context for my first bit about the actual chapter.) 

I am so happy that pre-heart connection stuff with Proxi got its own chapter, as opposed to being included with the post-connection drama of how Link starts clawing his way out of his depression. 

I mentioned last chapter that everything with the first Proxi meeting was an utter failure to me. While this chapter doesn’t erase the problems of the former, it nonetheless is an improvement and more in-line with how I wanted this Proxi storyline to go. 

Link’s depression baths is 100% me projecting-- I had a season of my life where everything in my life kinda fell apart and I became extremely depressed and anxious. One of my coping mechanisms was to constantly take showers. Like Link, I got up to around four showers a day before I was told to knock it off for the sake of the water bill. 

Depression causing a lack of hygiene and self-care is fairly well-represented in media at this point. I relate way more to depression causing a spurt of “good” habits (that are just maladaptive coping mechanisms in their own right) more, and I want to include more of them into my writing. Link seems like the kind of guy who would overcompensate like that too. 

The events of the chapter were condensed from my original vision. The party and the fireworks were going to be two separate incidents, but I wanted to cut down on the bulk of writing each chapter requires of me (more on this later). Luckily, the original idea for the fireworks also included celebrating a holiday (New Years), so the change was easy to pull off. 

I did lose an aspect of that scene I really liked though: Link knowing he was experiencing a trigger deciding to hide in his cellar, all the while congratulating himself for reacting normally while Proxi is like hiding in a cellar isn’t coping, Link!!!!

Fireworks being a trigger is a bit of a cliche, and a part of me really wishes I found something more unique to trigger Link with. But fireworks is a really effective shorthand, partly because it’s so prevalent in real life, and partly because contrasting a celebratory activity with war trauma is so evocative. 

It’s also very silly how significant events in Link’s life keep coinciding with holidays and birthdays. I want to acknowledge both for the sake of world building, but going through the effort of developing them is only worth it if there’s a plot point attached.

But who hasn’t had moments of great revelations while at the family Thanksgiving party?

I like the idea of various holidays/feasts in Hyrule having different levels of importance depending on your tribe or what region you live in, as well as them being celebrated differently depending on your culture. 

Both the Sheikah and the Hylians would place heavy significance on the feast since Hylia is one of their main goddesses, but they would be celebrated differently. I brushed a bit on the idea of the religious ceremonies being different, but I cut back on sharing more of my ideas for the specific celebrations. 

Very specifically, I wanted the Sheikah to have a tradition of performing theatrical plays of significant cultural moments (basically a kabuki-theater version of a nativity play) (can you tell I was raised catholic?). 

I have plans to do something involving a kabuki play next chapter, so I won’t elaborate more on what the play was supposed to be. However, the play did get cut because I planted Link in the banquet hall with no care to move him from that spot. 

I like the idea of moms who are flawed moms in really normal ways. The way Ayane’s mother is very sweet to Link while having these rigid standards for Ayane is very real to life, in part because it’s based on how a lot of mothers I know act to their child’s friends versus their actual child. 

In a similar vein, I’m also fascinated by mothers who fail their children in such specific ways that it would only be a failure to their child-- like a mother giving too much independence to a child who needs more help, etc. That’s my design for these slow (and hopefully subtle) reveals of how Link struggles with his mother’s memory. On one hand, it’s obvious that he was made to feel like a failure of a child, and he probably knows that was wrong of her. On the other, she was a good parent overall and she’s dead. If you have never experienced that particular cocktail of guilt, let me just say that it messes you up. 

The kids who were doing the snowball fight are Ayane’s friends, which is why one of them remarked that Link was going to yell at them again (see: when Link yelled at Ayane the first time he picked her up from school). Katsuki is the only friend of Ayane’s I’ve consistently named-dropped, so I hope that cued you in to who these kids were.

Speaking of which: I stole that name from Bakugo from My Hero Academia. I was watching the show at the time, and I like the character. Ergo, I stole his name.

Link being very aware that he had been triggered during the fireworks show-- I have a very specific gripe about the way people write PTSD that bleeds through this sequence that I cannot explain in a sentence or two. But what’s important is that I have experienced that moment when your body is triggered but your brain isn’t-- so you can start to feel yourself freaking out while in your mind you know there is no threat, yet the body’s reaction starts to cloud your mind, causing a spiral of anxiety and panic. 

Proxi visiting the fairy fountain in Kakariko is one of my favorite scenes. I just like how simple it is, and how it gives a glimpse into what Proxi’s life is like outside of Link.

I did momentarily freak out after posting because I was worried I didn’t make it clear before this chapter that while there is magic lingering at the fountain it can’t heal. But no one has mentioned it yet, so I think I’m safe to wait until a future chapter to clarify that.

Fairies being too small to have more than one emotion is of course taken from Peter Pan. As a long-time lover of fairies (my childhood hyperfixation), it’s a whimsical idea that I just adore. I originally wanted to use that idea as justification for Proxi mirroring Link’s emotions without Link mirroring hers. 

There would be scenes where he is utterly calm while she’s freaking out or crying because he’s good at covering his feelings, but she can’t. I thought this would rid her of too much agency, so I changed it to a mutual sharing of emotions so that Proxi has more space to her own person while still being his “translator.”

I also like the idea of Link being able to gather the ability to talk, but only in relation to comforting Proxi. That’s development, baby. 

I do wish I rewrote that last scene where he feels Proxi’s joy for the first time, as I really like the idea that he would feel a sense of helplessness and horror to be controlled by another person like that. What’s there now is fine, but it could be better.

Now, onto the present-day section: 

It is very, very obvious that I meant to end the last chapter with that conversation between Warriors and Lincoln. Like I said, the original version really sucked (or at least, my original prose describing what the Chain’s arrival at the castle was like). It makes more sense for Lincoln to drop the information about Lionel in the same chapter Lionel is name-dropped.

Lionel was originally going to be Lincoln’s name, but I picked Lincoln since it has the more obvious tie to the Link-Linkle naming pattern. 

Also, this chapter includes a much needed discussion about the ethics of blaming all of the nation’s problems on a single ethnic group. On one hand, it is stupidly effective to utilize bigotry to gather power, and it’s a rhetorical technique even a more morally-upstanding Warriors would use. On the other hand, that’s an objectively terrible thing to do oh my god. 

So I kinda had to go in and cover my bases of having the characters talk and acknowledge what the implications of Warriors’s plan is. The big glaring issue of this conversation is that it also implicates Lincoln and rids him of his moral superiority. 

Personally, I kinda struggle to think of a real-world equivalent to the dynamic I established in the story, where the institution of the Sheikah does a lot of harm while the people within the institution are experiencing the social-consequences of being associated with it. The best I can come up with is Mormoms. 

Either way, I live in fear someone is going to tell me that this is actually about an underprivileged group I am not aware of currently, and I am contributing to their oppression by not critically analyzing Link and Lincoln’s plans correctly. Which would be a valid criticism to make, but one I could avoid if I had just worked out in advance what the hell is this is an accidental allegory for, educated myself, and then fixed the issue. 

If you guys can think of something, let me know so that I can get started on educating myself and such.

The Castle Town arc’s recurring theme is just bureaucracy, which does not make for exciting storytelling. But I do think it’s fitting for Warriors, who used to benefit from the system, to realize all the ways it’s not made to actually help people. I also think he’s the kind of person to realize he doesn’t have the time or ability to rehaul it entirely and has to settle on trying to work within it.

I can finally reveal my “Midna is a fantastic public servant” agenda. My girl was explicitly stated to be a good and dedicated ruler in Twilight Princess, and I will not let anyone else forget it. 

I really wish that this was more of an ensemble story so that I can write about Hyrule and Sky’s adventures in the Castle Town nightlife

If there is one thing I don’t really like about this chapter, it’s the sequence from Warriors talking to Lana about Cia to the end of Icarius’s capture. Reading it back, it really comes off as very corny and very carelessly written.

I initially planned for Icarius to be captured during the bell ringing in the lead up to Warriors trying to draw the Master Sword

I was imagining a scene where they are watching the news about the invasion be announced and, as Warriors is cursing the bad luck of it all, Spirit would just scrunch his brow and say, “Captain.” And Warriors, who is unfortunately drift compatible with him, would be like “go ahead.” And then Spirit would motion for Linkle to follow, and the two of them would reappear after the Master Sword rejected Warriors with Icarius already tied up.

The problem was that would block Spirit off from understanding the whole Master Sword rejection thing, and I really needed him to carve up Warriors’s hand. 

So I punted this whole ordeal with Icarius off to another chapter, and I have been scrambling trying to find another spot for him.

Ultimately, I do think this worked out because I have no idea what the hell the would have done with Icarius during the networking scenes.

After being disappointed with how this version of the capture scene turned out, I was very tempted to cut it and just have Spirit and Linkle haul Icarius into Warriors’s office, but I didn’t want to cut out a scene of Linkle being a bit of a badass. 

And let’s talk about Icarius, because it’s been a while since we’ve thought about him.

First off, you can tell that I was having a lot of fun this chapter trying to find ways to let them have a conversation with Icarius when he can’t speak verbally and they don’t know his sign. The dictionary combined with the gesturing seemed like a fun but logical solution.

Though, in the back of my brain, I kept remembering how stupid I thought that bit in Iron Flame about the translation was. So when I wrote about Warriors translating Faovarian with just a dictionary, I was sitting there feeling like the biggest idiot in the world. 

This scene also reminded me how tragic it is that Icarius can’t speak, because I know how hilarious this man would have been with sassing his captors. 

I also got a chance to put forth the core tenant of Icarius’s feelings for Warriors: mainly, that he thinks Warriors is both insanely handsome but ultimately stupid as all fuck. 

When I first made it clear that the House of Nephus was a reflection of Warriors, Time, and Spirit, I totally thought someone would put together that Icarius, as the Spirit-equivalent, was trying to save Philo. No one ever remarked on it, so maybe it was too obvious to mention. 

(If I were to ever do another one-shot side story in the style of Smoke the Pipe, I would probably do one about Icarius’s life before the events of the plot, if only because I have a lot of ideas of how Faovaria works and how Icarius and Nephus got to where they are now; though I doubt anyone would be as interested in my silly OC’s as I am). 

I also thought someone would figure out Philo was related to the whole Fused Shadow plotline when, in his introductory scene, he used Midna’s powers. I thought it was obvious. 

I also like the idea of the Dark Interlopers having different legacies outside of Hyrule; generally, I’ve just had a lot of fun taking different bits of canon Hyrule lore and figuring out how they could fit into a greater world. My favorite (not in this chapter) example is when Nephus referred the the Three Goddess as oracles mistaken for goddesses. We know Din and Nayru appeared as oracles outside of Hyrule, and Nephus’s line implies that they are still important folk figures in Faovaria, just not goddesses. 

Spirit’s snarky good luck being the nice version of his thoughts is exactly the kind of bullshit I would pull as a socially-inept kid; he realized what he originally wanted to say was too mean so he wanted to convey some kind of recognition that he understood Icarius’s thought process but still wanted to warn him how hard it was going to be. He really, genuinely thought good luck would be the nicest way of conveying that. He’s so bad with people. I love him. 

And, god. Time. Poor guy has walked around his entire life feeling like there has only ever been one person who ever cared for him, only for that one person to turn around and be like yeah I regret helping you. 

Then there’s Warriors who is starting to learn to not let himself get tangled up in fights against Spirit, who is so wrapped up in trying to stop this war that he doesn’t even have the energy to entertain Spirit’s bullshit right now.

Which leaves Spirit alone, with only Warriors to cling on to. 

His conversation with Warriors in the hallway is another favorite of mine, if only because it sounds really natural. I think my dialogue is too on the nose sometimes, so I’ve been trying to let the characters talk around themselves way more. 

Hot tip: if you are writing about men, make sure you mention their facial hair and shaving habits. As a long-time lover of facial hair, I love hearing about characters growing stubble or having to remember to shave in the morning. It’s a little detail that gets overlooked in fiction a lot, and I’m so bitter about it. 

Oh, the newspaper article. Let’s chat about that now. 

Public opinion plays a big role in political intrigue, which I never see enough stories taking advantage of. I knew from the beginning that I wanted Warriors to get exposed in the newspaper after he was well into cleaning up his act, but I wasn’t sure how to go about it. 

As many of you know, one of my most infamous cuts from the story is an original character who was a journalist during the war producing propaganda about Warriors. In the present day, this journalist would have felt so guilty for the role they played that they would have been on the pursuit of writing a story about what really happened back then. They would have been a neutral to antagonistic force in Warriors’s life. 

You can probably guess that this expose was supposed to be their work-- a decision to finally report truthfully despite being asked to lie once more for the greater good. I really wanted to juggle with the ethics of propaganda, and to have a moment where Warriors straddles that moral line by wanting to utilize propaganda for the greater good (but for real this time). 

I cut the character because a) there were too many bozos in this story already, and b) I didn’t think that a plotline about propaganda would be the most useful in a story about a kingdom where the people’s opinion does not matter (in retrospect, that’s a misconception on my part about what propaganda is used for). 

In some ways, I think it did hurt the story a bit to not have a specific character attached to the article. However, I ultimately like having no specific journalist attached to it since it places the blame more squarely on Impa. 

Writing the full article out was most definitely not the best use of my time or the best use of space, but I was worried that if I did not, readers would be really confused as to what the general public did and did not know. 

Stylistically, the article is meant to be more of an profile/investigation piece over a straight-informative blurb. The best example I can find is this article from the Cut on Usha Vance.

(I have spent the past month deep in the anti-Vance think pieces. Fuck both of them. I can’t believe I am going to have to keep hearing about these bastards probably for the rest of my life.)

As you can see, there is the occasional use of first person and more storytelling techniques used alongside facts. I chose this style mostly to make sure the article wasn’t too boring to read. 

I also struggled picking good numbers for the article that would sound severe, without being over the top. I think I picked some realistic stats. But if I messed up, it would be very funny and would invalidate all of my bitching about Fourth Wing’s bad numbers. 

At least I got to use this as an opportunity to drop some new info on you, such as...

Marigold was 19 when she gave birth to Warriors. Yeah, there’s a bit more to the Marigold story that is still left to be uncovered. There is a thematic reason to why Warriors does not seem to acknowledge how young she was when she became his mother.

How do I put this? There’s an irony in him knowing that he was failed by being made responsible for the kingdom at 17, and then not realizing that Marigold was also failed in a similar way. I think people generally have a problem realizing that the problems they see in the world are more widespread than they are, and that they take on multiple forms. And when one thing is wrong in the world, it usually is reflected elsewhere in an unexpected way. 

Warriors believes that Marigold had a responsibility to take care of him because she was his mother despite her age. Warriors had a responsibility to be the hero, despite his age. He understands that just because society at large saw this as his duty, it doesn’t mean it was right. He doesn’t realize this wasn’t Marigold’s duty either to take care of him.

I explored this idea earlier in the story with the use of child soldiers being contrasted with Kat’s underage prostitution. 

Also, Anders Brecht. His last name is a reference to Bertold Brecht, the playwright.

It’s nice to get his story out of Warriors’s perspective of my friend betrayed me and into this is a well-educated activist who was executed for trying to make positive change in the world. To this day, it surprises me how many people were not sympathetic to the turncoats in this story.

Another thematic point: both Anders and Marigold were the Hyrulean-equivalent of leftists. Despite having their influence on him, Warriors still turned out far more moderate than them, and far more prone to causing harm. Insert rant here about how just because you surround yourself with good people doesn’t mean you will turn out like them, etc. 

Spirit being ashamed about the article-- Spirit is definitely someone who understands that just because someone knows you went through some shit, it doesn’t mean they will really give you the validation you want. He’s what happens when the vitamin fantasy doesn’t yield the acknowledgement you thought you were going to get. 

And, finally, Warriors gets put into a corner and manages not to resort to using Spirit to his advantage. I enjoy that Warriors’s determination to not use Spirit as a pawn to sway public opinion back into his favor comes at the cost of, well, being on the verge of losing the goddamn fight. Oh Warriors, you can be a better person now but being a good person doesn’t win wars. 

While the opening conversation between Lincoln and Warriors would have 100% worked better at the end of the last chapter, I do think it’s nice that their conversations are bookends. 

I do think it’s kinda silly that celebrities have to apologize for doing something wrong to the general public, and a part of me wanted to use this story as a means to point that out. But I also have to admit that there is a social reason why we expect it, and I have come out on the side of pro-apology. 

This is the first time in-story that Lincoln hugs Warriors. 

Warriors really needed someone to tell him that they were proud of him and, I won’t lie, I also kinda needed it at the moment of writing. As much as Warriors still has a lot to learn and improve on, it feels good to see him get some of the praise he desperately needs. 

Warriors’s character arc really is just him realizing that while he has to do his heroic duties, he would much rather be living a quiet domestic life with his family. Well, he always knew he wanted that. He just went about it wrong with Spirit and Time. He’s just getting to start over with a better perspective and less coercion. 

And finally, the Knights of Hyrule are arriving. I’m not lying when I say that I have spent most of this year trying to get to this stupid plot point. I thought the trip to Castle Town to now was going to be one chapter. That was back in March. It’s November now. Ugh. 

So yeah. That’s the chapter. 

You might have noticed that my style is a bit different this chapter. Looking back on old chapters, I can see myself overwriting in a lot of places, especially in the narration the explore’s Warriors’s thought process. I’ve been trying to cut that back in order to both clean up my writing and cut down on the sheer bulk of words every chapter requires.

I think it’s working out so far, but I won’t blame anyone for thinking the chapter is a little underwritten, or it seems like I’m putting in less effort into the story. 

Ideally, I would like to get two more chapters out by the end of the year-- one for each month. I have no idea how that will work out when I am as busy as usual and the holidays are coming up. But I will try my best. 

(I also just realized that there is three weeks left to the month and I have not started the new chapter yet. Oof.)

(If I keep up the chapter a month pace, the story will end around April, aka: CTB’s next birthday.)

Thank you to everyone who has kept up with this story for so long. I love writing long stories, but there’s always a point where readership peters out (not surprising; comes with the art form). CTB has long hit this point (taking a four month break this year did not help), so I appreciate everyone who has kept up so far and everyone who has recently given this story a shot. Hopefully the next chapter will worth all the time and dedication you have shown this story so far <3

[heiayen]

to think that we could stay the same lumine x gn!reader

summary: “Whatever it will fix? Will it fix the world around us?” You made a wide gesture around yourself, at the world you learned to love and enjoy that now was ruins, and then you pointed at yourself, “Will it fix us?” of foolish love and apologies, of ruined world and warmth that will never come back.

tags: MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH, hurt/no comfort, reader dies but the scene isn't detailed, this is... kind of abyss!lumine but to be perfectly fair, this fic is also very canon divergence.

notes: jfc shoutout to @kopidense who is the one and only reason this fic exists!! okayy sooo this! is for secret santa event for @mafuyuslover!! it was absolutely a pleasure to write and once again massive thanks to kopi!! i kinda went in different direction than yours but... the end is the same. silly. this fic just took my soul i fear. anyways. happy holidays i come with angst.

"...why are you crying?"

Gaze into the abyss for too long, and it will gaze back. That’s what you learned, after spending centuries hunting her. Searching every nook and cranny, letting your mind be corrupted with desperation and despair, grabbing the dark, clawed hand reaching you from the abyss. 

Hunting.

When did your adoration for her turn into the need to bring her down? To bring her to her knees, to yell out all your sadness and longing for something, that will never come back. For the days full of light and warmth, with Lumine holding your hand, fingers intertwined, Aether looking at you two with a smile, still alive– 

You looked at her. Once, you would whisper poetry into her lips, of your never-ending love for her, your hopes of always staying together because, oh, so much you defeated together, surely there was nothing that could ever separate you. 

Nothing could. You foolishly believed in it, and yet were proven wrong.

"There you are..." You gritted your teeth, looking at the woman you once loved. Maybe you still did. A part of you did, drowned by the grief of losing her. "I've been looking for you for so long..."

Lumine raised her chin, her steel gaze meeting yours. A little broken, tears threatening to spill out, lips twisting into something akin to a frown.

"You didn't answer my question." 

And yet nothing seemed to match her gaze. Not the gentleness of her voice, causing goosebumps on your skin. How you missed her voice, how you missed hearing it, the softness directed at you and only you. 

In Lumine’s hand, a sword materialized. The same she used to put down every enemy daring to attack you, to raise its own weapons at you. None of them had the time to react before meeting the sharp blade of a lover.

And yet this time, her fingers barely gripped her sword. 

You materialized your own, gripping it tight. 

“[Name],” she repeated, her voice losing its softness and gaining cold in its place. 

You really didn’t want to cry. Not in front of her. 

"I am not." Yet your voice broke and you felt first tears drop from your eyes into your cheeks. 

Her eyes softened.

She approached you slowly and you couldn’t help but just let her, despite everything screaming at you to move away, no, don’t let her get any closer–

She reached out her free hand to cup your cheek, but she froze mid-air. Her eyes looked all over your face, looking for anything– something telling her what to do, and you only continued looking at her.

Her thumb swiped at your cheek, meeting a lone tear falling from your eyelashes.

“I didn’t mean for it to end… like this,” Lumine said softly, her palm gently cradling your cheek, her eyelids dropping slightly, tiredness evident in her features, now that the stern mask she wore on her face broke down even further. “I’m sorry.”

Something also broke down in you.

“Sorry?” you breathed out, eyes widening in sudden anger, “You’re sorry? After leaving me completely alone, for centuries and centuries, and the most you say is… sorry? You can only apologize as if it would change anything?”

(Something else screamed in you, wanting to throw yourself into her arms, cry into her shoulder, and act as if everything was fine again. To ignore the blade in her hand, sharp as always.)

She stifled a gasp and moved her hand away as if burned, eyes wide at your words. She took a step back and let her hand fall to her side. She opened her mouth to speak, but you were faster.

“What will an apology do, Lumine?” you asked her, forcing your voice to sound stern, blinking the tears away, not wanting to show any more weakness.

She didn’t answer. 

“Whatever it will fix? Will it fix the world around us?” You made a wide gesture around yourself, at the world you learned to love and enjoy that now was ruins, and then you pointed at yourself, “Will it fix us?”

Her eyes were now wide, brows furrowed and lips twisted, the mask broken completely. 

Was she finally feeling the centuries-old sadness that you lived with for the past years? 

(Could she? Though Lumine lived for millennials, you were sure, could she feel even the tiniest drop of your sadness? Could she?)

“Answer me.”

That seemed to throw her out of whatever state of shock she was in and she took a deep breath, looking down.

She stepped back.

“...I had my reasons.”

“Reasons?!” You burst out, in complete disbelief that something like having reasons could be an acceptable excuse for all the pain that her absence caused, “Fuck your reasons, Lumine! Whatever could be possibly–”

“I had hoped that the next time we met, it would be in a better place, with no need to bring out our weapons,” she said quietly and you wanted to laugh, “Where I would tell you of my journey and why I made all these choices. And none of them was easy.”

When she looked back at you, there was– something in her eyes– newfound intensity and hurt underneath it. It hurt to look at her, sudden fear climbing its way to your mind.

She gripped her sword tighter and now it was your turn to step back, raise your weapon higher.  

“I never wanted to end it like this,” her tone was sincere, you could easily tell, yet you found it hard to believe.

“If you never wanted it to end like this, then… gods!” you yelled in frustration, “Why couldn’t you just do something else?! Was leaving me and this world to ruin the only possible choice?”

“I never told you, because I knew you wouldn’t understand my choices, not until you would see the truth of this world for yourself,” Lumine said, her voice loud and harsh to your ears.

“What truth? Of what world” you interrupted her, ”The one that your very hand led to ruin?” 

And that seemed to take her aback for a moment, lips parting and closing before she spoke again.

“...I’m sorry, [name].” She raised her sword, as if ready to lunge at you.

You blinked.

“You’re going to what, kill me?” you barked out, a smile of disbelief tugging at your lips. But silence was the only reply you got, and a terrible realization started to settle in.

“...you’re going to kill me.” 

There was only silence.

With her first move, your fate was sealed and her blade meet your own.

(It was only when your cold body was lying in the pool of your blood, completely lifeless, Lumine allowed herself to cry for you, not for the first time in the past centuries and certainly not the last.)

taglist: @ryuryuryuyurboat

[crimson-calligraphyx]

reader who has trouble finishing when she gets rlly in her head— life stress on top of meds, anxiety, whatever

like you’d rather just forget sex altogether because it’s easier and less embarrassing and you have no expectation that he’s gonna spend x amount of time between your thighs, but he actually couldn’t care less. like i’m sorry,,, you think he gives a fuck?

challenge accepted.

some of my thoughts because i am incorrigible:

Folio:

definitely knows the mental game is half the battle. his approach? you get in your head about sex? bet, let me make it so you can’t think at all.

no thoughts head empty

Noah:

an absolute menace. you’re self conscious about how much time he’s going to have to spend between your thighs, and he’s convinced that this is heaven.

“Noah, you’re not going to be able to feel your jaw.”

“you say that like I give a fuck.”

he owns that shit. it’s a badge of honor.

Jolly:

• oh he gets you there. the problem is getting him to stop.

• it’s all about loosening you up, coaxing you to and past a certain point. opening the floodgates so to speak. he can feel the exact moment you let go, the tension just, going out of you. the exact moment your body surrenders to him, goes fucking slack. oh and you best believe he’s coaxing as many orgasms as he can get out of you.

Ruffilo:

• quality over quantity.

• works you the fuck up— doesn’t care how long it takes. i’m talking he’ll drag it out. get you real close, just to deny you, so you can have the most explosive orgasm.

• i’m talking toe curling, back 👌🏻 this close to snapping like a fucking glow stick

• patience is a virtue

• oh also he’s not stopping until your legs are shaking and you’re desperately trying to push him away, sooo oversensitive. strikes me as the type to eat you out within an inch of your life and then drag your hips right back to his mouth like “oh you thought i was done???”

thank you for coming to my ted talk holy fuck i was gonna request a headcanon about this for each of the boys and i ended up going OFF. so i think it’s safe to say i had thoughts??? hahahah goodnight 💗💗 hope my brainrot haunts you in the best way i’m fine

I— my jaw is on the floor. I can appreciate Noah’s because I get so self conscious about how long it might take and Jfc owjdnfnfnnngoa

And the Ruffilo? Not stopping til your back is about to break? Please. Imma die

I love all these. Thank you for these haunting canons 🥴

[annakie]

Fixing The House: Part Fourteen A - In the Kitchen

Aka the (first part of the) FINAL CHAPTER.

Part One: I Do Not, In Fact, Have the Power

Part Two: Let’s Spend Lots of Money!

Part Three: All These Things That I’ve Done

Part Four: I Really Want to Stay At My House

A little interlude.

Part Five: Power Down

Part Six: You Will Leave Some Paint

Part Seven: Backwards to go Forwards

Part Eight: Master of Bathrooms

Part Nine: Within a Room, Somewhere

Part Ten: Rooms With No View

Part Eleven: Big Bang Room Part A and also Part B!

Part Twelve: We Can Make It On the Outside

Part Thirteen: Mauve Haze Symphony

Uhhh yeah sorry it's been like a month and a half since the last post. I have been VERY BUSY. Work. Travel. Dragon Age. All valid excuses, I promise!

But it's time to FINISH THIS because it would be terrible to get this close to the end and not finish. That's reserved for the tops of hall bathroom walls. :p

Y'all. It's time... finally... for the kitchen.

LET'S GOOOO!

As usual, starting in 2003. This is going to be the History Post.

The kitchen was probably always my least favorite part of my house. It's a long, narrow galley kitchen.

And oh boy, when I bought the house, the kitchen was in pretty bad shape.

Here I am with my realtor, Alvin, this might be the first time I saw the house, second at most.

Look under Alvin's foot. The linoleum does not meet in the middle, they started on the left and right to lay it down.

The wallpaper. The original-to-the-house 1963 countertop, and cabinets.

That fridge smelled so bad, IDK how old it was. I called it the ebolafridge. I literally had it written into the purchasing contract that they had to haul it away at their expense.

The sink was enamel and had several chips in it.

You can see here that the countertop was worn through down to the wood in spots. The cabinets, also original to the house.

The dishwasher did not feel like it would actually get the dishes any cleaner.

And the wallpaper... jfc the wallpaper. We're about to get to that.

There was one thing about the kitchen I liked, and that alone may have sealed my decision to buy the house when everything else about it made me feel like running.

The copper backsplash. Probably also original to the house but... it was copper. I at least had something to start with that I liked.

I could deal.

I started after buying the house but before I moved in by tearing up the floor, down to the concrete, through three layers of linoleum, by myself.

I am pretty positive that nobody bothered to ever sweep the floor, especially not between laying down the new flooring.

I laid down new linoleum... mostly. The hall flooring was in better condition so I left it "For now" and never got back to tearing it up.

Then there was the wallpaper.

Three layers of it. You can see two of them here. The bottom one, the third, was neon green and yellow flowers, probably installed in 1963 with the house. I don't have any good pictures of that.

I replaced the screens over the only lighting in the room from yellowed plastic to a grate that I somehow managed to cut exactly right myself the first time.

Brighter bulbs and little blocking the light made it better, but it was still always dark in there with lights that were recessed more than a foot in these wells.

That lightswitch was so, so gross but also like spackled on there with three layers of caulk.

The wallpaper took forever to pull down. Honestly I would have just painted over it if I'd have known how bad it would be. I used all The Products, and still spent many, many hours peeling off that fucking wallpaper. None of it peeled off easily.

this part right here was the WORST. The one big wall that was highly visible. I probably spent twenty hours on this wall and it was still like halfway done.

Forgive me if I told this story already somewhere.

My parents would come up occasionally in those first few years and spend a weekend helping me with home improvements. One of the early weekends we did dozens of things and then this fucking wall was the last thing on the list to tackle.

My parents and I stood there and just stared at the wall at the end of a very long two days, hours more of wallpaper scraping staring us in the face.

Then my dad turned to me and said "I have a plan, but you might hate it."

"Tell me Dad," I said, pretty desperate to never have to peel down wallpaper ever again.

"Just a big sheet of wall panel. We can try to match it to the panel in the dining room or the cabinets."

"I love this plan. Huge fan of the plan. Let's do that."

So we measured the wall, hopped in the car and went to Home Depot and like an hour later the wall from hell instead looked like this.

Before the panel went up, I took a sharpie and wrote on the wall something like "I'm sorry, I just can't spend another minute tearing down this stupid wallpaper. Good luck!" and signed and dated it.

So yeah here you can see I have a new fridge. It was literally the cheapest fridge which fit that I could find at the Sears Scratch & Dent outlet.

The walls were painted... and the floor there is still concrete. I ran out of the linoleum for awhile, but it did get finished eventually.

I took off every cabinet door and drawer, sanded the old varnish off of them. Then sanded down all the cabinets themselves at least somewhat deep, and painted them all a complementary green to the lighter wall green. I scrubbed every inch of the place down as much as I could, polishing up the copper backsplash and copper range hood as much as I could. I bought the cheapest dishwasher, it that was a combined Christmas/Birthday present from my parents/grandma for that year. Worth it.

It still wasn't beautiful, but it was livable.

Those red and green pattern dishes were hand-me-downs from my recently deceased grandparents, which came along with their dining room furniture, the guest bed, an old rocking recliner.

Lately some of my friends and me have been handing down all our old stuff to our friend Marcus & Laura's three daughters, all of whom are early to mid 20's and just starting out. It came at just the right time for me, I have so much to give them especially now since the renovation. Looking at all these pictures the last few months of making these posts have really just reminded me about how lucky I have been to have been handed down things which, maybe they weren't my taste, and now many of them have been replaced or passed on, but I was blessed. And it feels great to be able to bless the three young woman who I consider practically nieces in a similar way.

Anyway.

Here, judge my 2004 food choices.

Oh hey, another thing I loved about the kitchen was the pantry. A really good sized pantry with an awesome copper lazy susan. (Really all of the range hood, backsplash and lazy susan were just copper colored steel or something... but they look great.

I did really hate the pantry door, which you had to know just how to open or else it'd come off the tracks.

It was as good as I could afford to make it after awhile, though there was still stuff like this going on...

Gross.

One other small but impactful change Dad & I made was the knobs and handles in the kitchen.

On the tops, we kept the original 60's knobs but spray painted them a fresh coat of copper spray paint. I'd re-spray them every couple of years.

I had been CONSTANTLY snagging my pockets on the same pulls on the cabinets and drawers on the bottom, so those got replaced with smooth handles which were impossible to snag on. Looked okay. Not great, but better.

---

So this was a really great day in 2009.

New countertops day! I was so damn hapy!

The old, gross stuff got taken out. The pipes under the sink were redone and a new garbage disposal went in that actually WORKED!

*Note: It sometimes worked. TBH it was super temperamental and probably DIDN'T work for about 1/3rd of the time it was in. But at least the pipes didn't clog nearly as much, and shutoff valves were installed down there.

Leela and Jim approved!

BEAUTIFUL, right? I picked all that out myself.

The laminate countertop was literally the cheapest Home Depot had but I actually really liked it, it had flecks of coppery-colored bits in it, also it was, you know, just clean. I honestly loved that sink every day it was installed.

So much better, right? It felt a lot more fresh and clean. A huge improvement over the original.

The new floors helped a lot, too!

So yeah, this was the kitchen from 2009 until 2024, and it was just the world's Okayest Kitchen. I wasn't ashamed of it anymore, unlike the bathrooms.

There were still some pretty big problems. The 1960's drawers were constantly falling off their tracks, wouldn't open all the way, the one next to the fridge had the bottom fall out and couldn't be repaired so I just lost a drawer there entirely. And the pantry door was so ugly, hard to clean, always falling off the track as well.

The cheapo dishwasher died around 2017 and stayed dead for about 2 years until I got a new one in 2019 in time for Ange's visit. I mentioned the garbage disposal.

Another quirk was that the fridge couldn't open the entire way. It would just hit the opposite counter when it was 2/3rds open so you really did NOT want things getting shoved to the far back corner unless you wanted to practice becoming a contortionist.

Oh, and the cabinet doors on the bottom of the kitchen just did not seem to want to stay closed. I'd walk in all the time to partially opened cabinet doors and I'd occasionally bang my leg on them. Re-closing them became such a multi-times daily occurrence that I stopped even noticing I was doing it.

The stove/oven is electric. At some point 5 or 6 years ago I replaced all the burners because some stopped working, but those were easy. The oven itself runs 50 degrees hot. I ruined a lot of meals before I really figured that out, now I just know that i the recipe says 400...that means set it for 350. I put an analog oven thermometer inside that confirms it.

OK guys... there's the history up until this summer.

Big changes are coming. :D

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

Hot Chocolate, Ice Skates, and Prince Charming

Heya! I’ve just been quietly reading and rereading all your Roman angst and I hope you’re not tired of writing it because I have an idea 😅 How about some christmas Roman angst? I can’t think of anything specific but there’s that XD Keep up the writing and don’t feel pressured to post the fic on Christmas or to even take the request ❤️- lio-the-chaotic-nonbeanie-weenie

Hello hello! :) Absolutely adore your work, and I hope you're having a wonderful holiday! I have come with a request for whenever you're up to it. If you would, it would be amazing to see your take on a Christmas-y themed fic with a focus on disabled Virgil. I had a hankering for Hallmark styled Christmas movies lately and I was just thinking about how fun it would be in your style. Hope that's ok! – anon

Read on Ao3

Warnings: some ableist language

Pairings: prinxiety (i am ashamed at how long it took me to fucking remember what their ship name is jfc)

Word Count: 10,080

At some point, Virgil will work out the exact science of how much to say 'yes' to friends who desperately want to do holiday-spirit-festive-stuff because they're his friends and he loves being there to watch them love things, but he also does not enjoy dying of either pain or sensory overload. This year doesn't look to be one of those years where he does better than others, though, if being surrounded by screaming children and off-key grainy speakers belting Mariah Carey for the past Too Fucking Long is any indication. He ducks his head to avoid yet another flying something-or-other as he huddles in on himself, making sure his cane doesn't get knocked over for the fourth time in as many minutes. "Excuse me?" He turns, half expecting someone selling cotton candy or those little memorabilia keychains, and— Oh. Hello. *** Virgil, fed up with the holiday spirit, meets Roman, a man who seems far too good to be true for such an auspicious time of year. From apology hot chocolate to late-night Christmas lights, maybe this year the magic will linger just a little bit longer.

 

At some point, Virgil will work out the exact science of how much to say 'yes' to friends who desperately want to do holiday-spirit-festive-stuff because they're his friends and he loves being there to watch them love things, but he also does not enjoy dying of either pain or sensory overload. This year doesn't look to be one of those years where he does better than others, though, if being surrounded by screaming children and off-key grainy speakers belting Mariah Carey for the past Too Fucking Long is any indication. He ducks his head to avoid yet another flying something-or-other as he huddles in on himself, making sure his cane doesn't get knocked over for the fourth time in as many minutes.

May your days be merry and bright indeed.

He sighs, squinting fruitlessly through the crowd to maybe catch sight of one of his friends' coats or something, before realizing that there's absolutely no way he's going to be able to do that when he can't even see the skating rink over the crowd gathered around the outside. And sure, he could stand, but is he going to? No. So he may as well just continue sitting here until one of them remembers that yeah, he's here too, and wades through the horde to his little bench oasis.

"Excuse me?"

He turns, half expecting someone selling cotton candy or those little memorabilia keychains, and—

Oh.

Hello.

"Sorry," the actual fucking model in front of him says, smiling sheepishly, "is the other half of this bench taken?"

"No," Virgil says way too quickly, but can you fucking blame him? The prettiest human that's ever existed just asked if he could sit down next to him. "Bench, uh—bench is very much not taken, you can—you can sit."

"Thanks."

Well, this might have backfired, because now very-pretty-attractive person is sitting right next to Virgil. And he definitely knows how to deal with this. Yeah, this is fine. This is totally fine. He just has to not keep sneaking glances at his perfectly coiffed hair…or his jawline…or the freckle right on the end of his nose…

"Is there something on my face?"

Shit. Fuck. "No, no, you're fine—" really fucking fine, dude— "sorry, I, uh, didn't mean to stare."

He chuckles. Not fair. Not fair at all. "It's okay, honey, no harm done."

Abort fucking mission, abort fucking mission, Very Pretty Person just called me a pet name, shit fuck holy shit what the fuck am I supposed to do?

He's spared the humiliation of verbal floundering when he chuckles again and holds out his hand. "Roman."

"Virgil." Please God, I hope my hand isn't too sweaty. "Nice, uh, nice to meet you."

"Likewise." Roman nods his chin toward the skating rink. "Taking a break?"

"Oh, I, uh, I'm not really big into ice skating."

"You've dragged yourself all the way to the madhouse and you're not going inside?"

"My friends," he says lamely, waving toward the entrance, "they really wanted to come, so I tagged along."

Roman hums, tilting his head. "Not very nice of them to leave you behind, is it?"

Shut up, he hisses at his heart which starts to pulse threateningly towards his throat, it's fine. This is fine. "It's fine. I don't really mind."

"Yes, being surrounded by extremely loud children and sitting right underneath a speaker," Roman says skeptically, "I'm sure."

"Well, I—uh—"

Roman sighs. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to be rude. It's none of my business, I know."

It totally could be your business though. Like, I would have exactly zero problems if you decided it was your business.

"I'll go with you if you want."

Virgil shakes himself out of his thoughts in time to see Roman smiling softly at him and he needs to figure out what the fuck he just said real fast before he gets lost in it. "Sorry, what?"

"If you want to go skate," Roman repeats, "I know it's hard if you're by yourself, especially in a crowd this big, so I'd be happy to come with if you wanted."

His heart sinks and the cane at his side grows a little colder. He forces himself to smile and shakes his head. "Sorry, I, uh, really am not into skating."

"Come on," Roman coaxes, holding his hand out, "I promise I'll be nice."

This is torture. This is literal actual torture and Virgil is about to sink into this fucking bench because the most attractive person he's ever fucking laid eyes on is asking him to skate and he can't and he's going to have to say no and then Roman might leave and they won't get a chance to talk anymore or he'll find out why Virgil doesn't want to skate and then it might turn out that he's not actually as sweet and charming as he's acting right now and—

Virgil's eyes slide to his cane and back up to Roman's. Roman follows his gaze, a cute little wrinkle between his brows, before his eyes widen in realization and his mouth drops open.

"O-oh," he stammers, "sorry, I thought—I didn't—"

"It's fine," Virgil mutters, picking up his cane and hunching over it.

"There's—well, I suppose there's no coming back from that." Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Roman's cheeks turn a little pinker—so cute—and scratch the back of his head. "Can I buy you a hot chocolate to make up for it?"

Virgil's head snaps around. He stares at Roman. "What?"

"As an apology. I'll even make sure they put extra whipped cream on it."

He vaguely hears himself say something about sprinkles and then Roman's grinning again and sliding from the bench and vanishing into the crowd. Part of Virgil wants to immediately get up and run after him, but his hands are still wrapped around his cane and all he can do is hope to God that Roman wasn't some hallucination or fantasy and there really is a cute guy going to but him apology hot chocolate.

Five minutes pass.

Ten.

Fifteen.

No sign of Roman.

Virgil checks his phone and sees nothing—no text messages from his friends, no alarm, nothing except the battery he really should have charged before leaving the house and he now has to use extremely sparingly. The sinking feeling in his stomach is back; maybe Roman just wanted a quick and easy exit away from the pathetic whelp with the cane, or maybe he realized that there was something better he could be doing. He wouldn't blame him, not really. He might call him an ableist asshole the next time—if they ever saw each other again, but—

"Sorry, I'm so sorry," he hears breathlessly, "the line was miles long and then they couldn't find the sprinkles."

He turns, hardly daring to believe it, when he sees a massive cup of still-steaming hot chocolate with a mountain of whipped cream and red and green sprinkles held out toward him. He pries one of his hands from his cane and takes it, looking between it and Roman with disbelief. Roman smiles at him again and nods to the cup.

"Is that enough whip-cream?"

"Yeah," Virgil says faintly, "that's—I don't think I've ever seen this much before."

"Well, you deserve it," Roman says like an asshole because now Virgil has to down like half of it in one go to prevent him from seeing how fucking red he gets at that one little comment and he nearly burns his tongue off for it. "Whoa, whoa! Slow down, no one's gonna take it away from you, don't burn your mouth!"

"Too late."

Roman just chuckles again, like he's fond, like that's something they do, and he leans back against the bench. "Suit yourself, honey."

And now he has to do it again. Honestly.

You could not pay Virgil to remember what all they talk about. He doesn't know. He's too busy memorizing the crooked half-smile Roman has when he's vaguely amused by something, or the cute wrinkle that forms when he's thinking or concerned, or the way he keeps reaching out to almost touch Virgil's shoulder before changing his mind last-minute and leaning on the bench instead. He wants to reach back for him so bad but he's trying to hold the hot chocolate and his cane at the same time. His cheeks hurt from smiling and blushing and apparently Roman is really good at saying little things to make that worse. Does he remember what they are? No, because he's not paying attention to shit like that.

They're laughing at something—again, who knows what—when Roman checks his phone and sighs.

"I'm sorry, I have to go. But it was really nice to meet you and sit with you."

"You, uh, you too."

Roman grins and stands. "Happy Holidays, Virgil," he says, and disappears into the crowd.

"You too," he says, way too late, just as he realizes that he didn't even ask for Roman's number.

He looks down at the dregs of the hot chocolate and finds himself smiling slightly.

Maybe being dragged out here wasn't the worst thing after all.

2.

He truly doesn't expect to see Roman ever again, and he may have moped around the house for a few hours upon realizing that, so it takes him by surprise when he ends up sitting in the corner of some mall as his friends go last-minute shopping and a familiar voice calls out.

"Virgil?"

He almost breaks his neck with how fast he turns around. "Roman?"

Roman grins at him, a bag over his arm, before nodding to the other chair at the table. "Do you mind if I join you?"

"Yes! I mean, no. I mean—please sit down."

"That's on me, I should've asked it in a less-annoying-to-answer way." He sets the bag on the floor and tucks his hands into his pockets. "Can I be really honest with you?"

"Sure."

"I wanted to run back to the bench the second I left because I realized I didn't ask you for your number. So, can I do that now before I forget again?"

"Yes," he says, pulling his phone out before Roman's even finished speaking, "yes, absolutely, go ahead. I wanted to do the same thing."

They exchange numbers and Virgil's in the middle of totally not putting a bunch of cute things after Roman's name because he has standards and a reputation—but come on, his last name is literally 'Prince,' what the fuck is he supposed to do?—when Roman calls his name and he looks up, surprised. Roman laughs and holds up his phone.

"Can I take a photo? For your contact?"

"Uh—um—sure?"

"Not that I'd forget what your pretty face looks like," Roman says as he takes a picture in the middle of Virgil blushing like an idiot, "but in case I want a reminder."

This. This is what he didn't remember. That Roman is apparently really good at being charming—literally Prince Charming, this is fake, this isn't real, people like Roman don't actually exist, where are the camera crews and reality show hosts?

"Alright, now that's out of the way…" Roman trails off when he notices that Virgil's still staring at the table, his cheeks bright red. "Hey, you okay?"

"I—uh—you—"

He chuckles. "Still stunnable, I see? Sorry, honey, am I being mean?"

"Okay, well, it's hard to tell how sincere you're being when you're still doing it, so—"

Roman throws his head back and laughs, holding his hands up in surrender. "Okay, you got me."

"Rude."

"You're still smiling at me, though."

"Shut up."

"Your smile is cute."

"Shut up," he mumbles again, trying to hide his face in his sleeves. Unfortunately, that means he's not balancing his cane against the table anymore and it falls to the ground with a loud clatter. A few people walking by turn to look. He goes to pick it back up only to realize Roman's already doing it, leaning it back against the table. "Oh, uh, thanks."

"Of course." He inclines his head toward some of the stores nearby. "You here by yourself?"

"No. Friends scrambling for last-minute stuff."

Roman makes a noise. "I'm not getting a fantastic impression of these friends of yours who drag you places and then leave you."

"They're not so bad, they know to pick places with easy seating so I can take breaks when I need them. Besides, they know better than to take me in certain places."

"Oh? Do tell."

"Apparently there's only so many times I can call out fancy soaps for smelling like ass before I get politely asked to leave, but—"

"Wait, wait, wait," Roman says, sitting forward with a grin, "you gotta tell me everything now, you can't just leave it there."

And so, Virgil dutifully recounts the story of the time some of his friends decided a fun way to spend the afternoon was to go into the fancy soap and other scented things shop to 'browse,' when in reality they were just going to see what the most obscure and specific scent was and mock it mercilessly. They managed to find everything from 'Bourbon-soaked Cotton' to 'Miasma,' which of course prompted Virgil to point out that they really didn't think that one through because miasma was the 'bad air' that supposedly caused things like the Black Death and you probably didn't want a candle called 'Miasma' in your house, which logically led to them all pretending to be plague doctors by wrapping up the complimentary cardboard box/bag things and holding them in front of their faces like plague doctor masks and acting like they'd discovered some new herbs to treat the nefarious diseases with.

Needless to say, they were politely asked to never come back ever again, and they definitely kept pretending to be plague doctors as they were 'escorted from the premises.'

Roman's fully collapsed back into the chair, shaking with laughter, by the time Virgil finishes telling the story. He has to stop and just look at him, because of course Prince Charming is really fucking pretty when he's laughing, and then he looks up at Virgil with that soft smile again and he can literally feel himself melting inside his hoodie.

"Well," he says through the last of the laughter, "I can see why they asked you not to come back."

"Yeah, well…" He shrugs. "Plus, if my friends actually want to get any shopping done, they decided it's best if I don't tag along so they can actually, you know, focus."

"Can't say I blame them, then. I'd be distracted by you too."

"Roman!"

"Okay, okay, I'm done, I promise." He grins. "I think your face might explode, it's so damn red."

'Yeah, well, whose fault is that?"

Roman holds a hand over his chest and bows halfway, like he's actually out of some period drama and wearing a fancy knight's costume instead of a button-down coat and scarf. "My deepest apologies, Virgil."

"Yeah, yeah, knock it off," Virgil grumbles as he chuckles.

They sit there in the quiet for a few more moments as a few groups of kids run by. The lights strung up around the pillars and various levels of the mall sparkle with that faux-snow-wet look as Christmas carols play over the speakers, Virgil taps his fingers absentmindedly to the beat, watching an ad play inside one of the stores.

"Okay, I have a potentially rude question that you can totally tell me to shut up for."

Part of Virgil immediately raises its hackles, but he turns to look at him. "Okay?"

Roman nods to his cane. "Where did you get your cane? My great-aunt uses one and she's been complaining about how boring her current one is for like, as long as I can remember, and yours is sick as hell."

It is pretty cool—it has this purple holo body and Virgil's stuck all sorts of stickers to it and the base is really nice and it's got an adjustable length too. "I can text you the name of the place?"

"Yeah, that'd be great, thank you."

He sends it off and puts his phone on the table. "That wasn't a rude question, by the way. That was fine."

Roman's shoulders visibly slump. "Okay, great, I wasn't—I really wasn't sure. I don't—sorry."

Virgil's eyes widen slightly as Roman starts to…fluster?

"I don't know a lot of people who use mobility aids on the regular and so I don't…really know what sort of things are appropriate to ask."

"You're fine," he says, still a little bemused, "you're doing great."

But then Roman smiles at him all soft again and he has to look away and cough before he starts getting all red again.

"Besides, you're right. My cane is sick as hell and it deserves compliments."

"It's definitely the coolest one I've ever seen. How did you get the stickers to stay so well?"

"There's this Etsy seller who specifically made them to go on mobility aids—she has forearm crutches and hers are decked out with cool shit, so I bought a couple for mine just to try them out and then, well, I couldn't stop."

"Could you send me the name of that place too? My aunt might want some."

"Sure, yeah, give me a moment to find it."

As he looks through his phone, he catches sight of Roman watching him. Not in a creepy way, he's just doing that fond thing where he's got his head slightly tilted and he's still smiling like he's just happy to be here with Virgil and he needs to stop thinking about it right now before his ears start going bright red too.

"There. Sent."

"Thanks, Virgil." He checks his phone just to make sure he's gotten it before he stands up. "I'd love to sit here all day with you, but I do have to run."

"Oh. Okay."

"I'll text you, okay? If you're not—I mean, if you don't have plans, I'd really like to see you again."

"Yeah," he says, grinning like an idiot, "I'd like that too."

He's still staring off in the direction Roman went when his friends come to tell him that they may have gotten kicked out of another store.

3.

Prince Charming: I have another potentially rude question.

Virgil tries not to grin when he sees Roman's text. He knows better than that. Absolutely not.

He fails.

Me: what's up

Prince Charming: How far of a walk is too long of a walk before you need a break?

Me: walking is actually fine it's standing that makes me want to die

Me: i mean i'm not trying to hike a mountain

Prince Charming: No, I suppose that makes sense.

Me: why?

Prince Charming: One of my favorite things to do this time of year is go to the Tadford Park Conservatory. They have this really cool thing they do to get all festive and I was wondering if you wanted to go with me? They have places to sit on the way and it's basically a greenhouse so we don't need to lug big heavy coats around.

Virgil quickly looks up 'Tadford Park Conservatory' and scrolls through the pictures of the plants and decorations. Honestly, it looks stunning. He's about to say as much when he gets another text,

Prince Charming: And I have a car so I could pick you up and we could drive.

Me: that sounds really amazing when do you want to go?

Prince Charming: Are you free tomorrow?

Me: sure am

Prince Charming: Can I pick you up at 9?

Me: absolutely see you then

Prince Charming: Perfect :)

Only after Virgil's put the phone down and gone back to what he was doing does he realize he has no idea whether this is supposed to be a date or not.

Is it? No, Roman would've said. Right? That seems like something you'd say. You'd be like: 'hey, I want to do this thing with you as a date.' Or 'hey, I want to take you out and I thought we could do this.' Something like that. Something that puts a big and flashy 'this is a date' sign on it. Roman didn't do that. And Roman seems like the person who would do that. Right? Maybe Virgil should ask. That was reasonable, to ask if something was a dare. But then what if Roman hadn't intended for it to be a date? Then it would get really awkward and Virgil would have to backtrack and then Roman might offer to make it a date out of pity and then it would be even more awkward and Virgil wouldn't actually get to enjoy anything they did because he'd be too busy thinking about how awkward it was and then it would be ruined and—

No. He's just gonna act like he's going to do something fun with a friend. He does that all the time.

Just so happens that Roman's Roman.

It's gonna be fine.

So fine.

He really is so fine—okay, that's enough of that.

He definitely stresses over what he's wearing for way too long before he gets a knock on his door and he just throws a coat over it before he can overthink it and goes to meet Roman. Roman opens his car door for him like he's really some prince that crawled out of a storybook and it doesn't even feel like he's doing it out of pity, like he'd do it even if Virgil didn't have a cane, which is another thing to fret about as Roman drives them to the conservatory. As they walk inside, Virgil goes fumbling for his wallet only for Roman to reveal that he's already gotten their tickets, scanning the code at the front and going over to the coat closet.

"How much do I owe you?"

"Oh, it's on me." Roman hangs up his coat and huffs a laugh when he sees the way Virgil's staring at him. "What's that for?"

"No, really, I saw those ticket prices, there's no way—"

"My mom has a membership, we basically got in for free. It's okay, honey, you don't have to worry about it."

Virgil mumbles something about pet names being unfair as Roman chuckles and they start walking toward the doors. A wave of warm air washes over them as they step through and Virgil's eyes widen as he looks around at the plants and decorations hanging from the ceiling. It's like he's stepped into some alternate reality, trees curling up and over him in a green ceiling as vibrant flowers bloom impossibly bright, catching the glistening light as the giant ornaments overhead twist and turn in the faint breeze. The faint smell of freshly watered plants mixes with the pine and gingerbread from the lobby as they start walking and he can't pay attention to where he's going because every few seconds, he sees something else incredible. Bright blue flowers. A tree with bark like peeling parchment. A crawling vine straight out of a fairytale book. Roman keeps him as much on the path and out of the crowd as possible and he can't even spare the attention to thank him.

"It's beautiful," he manages as they near another door, "it's so pretty, Roman."

"Yes, it is."

"If you're looking at me while you say that, I swear to God—" Roman pushes open another door and they start into a room filled with flowering trees— "holy shit."

Roman chuckles and guides them to a bench underneath one of them. "Do you want to sit for a second or keep going?"

"How close is the next bench after this one?"

"Two rooms down, I think."

"I can make it until there."

They walk through a room of twisting and turning jungle trees, ferns and other smaller plants hiding between the leaves. They pass a pond of koi fish swimming underneath a massive tree. The room with the bench has a long, clear pool in its center, flanked by paths through what look to be walls of moss and other ferns, a waterfall at the far end. Roman walks them carefully over one of the paths to a bench tucked into a little alcove, through which they can see the pool and the bright green foliage on the other side. Virgil sits down, still spellbound at the room.

"I'd ask if you were enjoying yourself," comes Roman's voice, "but I think I know the answer."

"It's like I've been transported to some fantasy realm, this is so cool. How have I never known this existed?"

"A lot of people don't come here. Which is good because I'm selfish and I really like when there's not a lot of crowds." Roman sits back, one leg slung over the other. "But—I don't know why. Maybe it's because they think plants are boring or something."

"They're fucking wrong."

He chuckles. "Yeah, I think so too. I'm glad you like it."

"Okay, it's my turn to ask a potentially rude question."

"Shoot."

"Why here? I mean, it's gorgeous, and the decorations really help, but it's not—a conservatory isn't really what I think of when I think of festive stuff."

Roman sighs. Ripples from the waterfall spread out along the pool's surface. "I don't know, really. I think it's just because holidays are really hectic for me and this place…never really feels like that. It's always sort of like this, calm, serene. Quiet. I think…I think I just really like that."

Virgil turns at the wistful note in Roman's voice, watching him send one of those soft smiles at the pool. The greenery around them almost seems to curve, like the petals of a flower around its center. Roman…fits here, like he really is some prince that even nature itself can't help but adore.

…fuck, he's so far gone.

He loses track of time as they sit there, just enjoying the still quiet of the room. The ferns have their own smell, soft and sweet, that mixes with the crisp dampness of the water as some misters turn on to water the plants. He holds his hand out in front of one, just for a second, watching the droplets catch on his hand and sparkle as he turns them in the light. Roman's side presses against his after a while and he finds himself lost slightly to the solid comfort of it. And then, well, then that's all he thinks about for a while.

At least until his stomach growls and ruins the moment.

"Come on," Roman chuckles, "the food's not far from here."

The cafe bustles with energy after being in that quiet room for so long, and Virgil quickly finds a table to sit at while Roman goes and gets the food. He does have to slightly threaten Roman into letting him pay for their lunch, but Roman concedes after a while and goes to stand in line. He pulls out his phone to send the few pictures he remembered to take to the group chat, when suddenly—

"Shame on you, young man!"

Virgil startles so badly that he almost drops his phone. He looks up to see a stern older woman glaring at him, hands on her hips. "Uh—"

"How dare you?" she says again, wagging her finger at him. "You go and find whoever you stole that from and give it back right this instant!"

"I don't—what—what are you talking about?"

"What do you mean, what am I talking about?" She points at his cane. "That does not belong to you! You're old enough to know better, especially to steal something like that, your parents would be so disappointed in you!"

Oh. Oh, fuck, it's one of these. Disgust and embarrassment crawl up his throat as a few people at the surrounding tables start to look over. He swallows. "Actually, that is mine."

The woman scoffs. "What do you think, I was born yesterday?"

"That is my cane," he says, voice a bit firmer. "I bought it with my money, I use it for my disability. I didn't steal it. It's my cane."

She looks him up and down over the rim of her glasses. "You? You expect me to believe a young person like you uses a cane? What on earth could you possibly need a cane for?"

And really, he should be used to it by now, he's had ableist assholes like this yelling at him for actual years, he shouldn't be this upset over it. But goddamnit, this day was going well. He was having a good time. And now someone is telling him his disability doesn't exist and he should be ashamed for using a mobility aid and he can feel his eyes starting to water even as he struggles for words.

"Excuse me."

Roman. He looks up to see Roman setting a tray with their food on the table, his hand coming to rest on Virgil's shoulder.

"Would you like to explain why you're bothering someone you don't know?"

The woman splutters. "I—well, I—"

"It is none of your business what someone else does to take care of themselves," Roman says, cutting her off firmly, "you do not get to make assumptions about someone else's life and act as though you know the truth. No one would be so rude as to insist you don't need glasses, would they?"

"People your age don't need canes!"

"And people your age should know to treat people better." Roman gives her a look that's so profoundly disappointed that he can see a few people wince in sympathy. "This time of year is supposed to be about sharing compassion and kindness. I hope for your sake you learn that this season."

He turns his back pointedly and the woman shuffles off without another word.

"Are you okay?" Roman asks, his voice so soft and worried that it almost gives Virgil whiplash. "I'm so sorry that happened."

"It's not your fault," he mumbles, "and…thank you."

"You don't need to thank me for being a decent person, honey."

"Yeah, well…" Roman's hand is still on his shoulder and he dares to lean into it a little. "Still. Thanks."

Roman still looks a little worried but he pushes Virgil's food towards him. "Here. Eat."

"Thanks."

Roman doesn't sit across from him. He sits next to him and after a moment, lets his leg rest against Virgil's. Virgil almost chokes on his sandwich but quickly shakes his head when Roman looks up, concerned.

"Is this alright?"

"Yeah, it's…more than alright." Virgil smiles. "You're really great, Roman."

Nice one, asshole.

"So are you." After a moment, his smile widens. "When we're finished, do you want to go see the desert room? There's a bench in there too."

"Cactuses?"

"I think it's technically cacti, but yes."

"Don't make me look up grammar while I'm eating."

"Wouldn't dream of it."

4.

Virgil gets another text the night before he's supposed to get lunch with Roman. He peers at his phone, sitting up from his horrible position on the couch.

Prince Charming: Hey, I'm sorry to do this so last minute, but my boss really wants me to come in in the morning tomorrow. I don't think I'll be able to come pick you up to go to the place.

Me: is there public that can get me there?

Prince Charming: You'd have to walk a fair ways and it's not like it's nice outside right now.

Virgil glances at the snowstorm outside and winces at the thought of all the ice. He's about to figure out a way to propose a rain check—or snow check—without upsetting either of them when his phone buzzes again.

Prince Charming: I mean, if it's not too much of an ask, I could always pick you up before I go into work and you could come with me? I don't think it'd be longer than a few hours at the most and then we could just go straight there afterwards.

Me: what do you mean come to work with you?

Prince Charming: I could pick you up and drive us both to the arena. There are the offices and stuff upstairs where you could sit and work or do something until I'm done then we could go?

Me: would your boss care that there's just some random person with you?

Prince Charming: You're not just some random person, Virgil. And no, he won't care.

Virgil's too caught up in the fact that Roman said he's not just some random person to really think about it when he sends back a 'yes,' nor did he really read the part where Roman mentioned an arena.

But sure enough, that's what they pull up to the next morning and Virgil's left blinking at the giant sign that says 'Stadium Entrance' as they get out of the car. He glances at Roman, who looks truly nonplussed as he leads the way to the door. He waves at the person at the front—Virgil waves too on instinct—and nods toward the elevator.

"I told them I was bringing someone, you can go on up and find somewhere to sit, if you want. I can come with too if you'd rather?"

"You, uh, you can go. I think I can find something."

"If anyone tries to give you shit, just say you're with me, okay?"

He huffs a laugh. "What, are you some kind of famous person?"

Roman laughs too, but it comes out a bit too forced. "Something like that."

And before he can ask what the fuck that means, Roman's walking off down another hallway and Virgil just shrugs and goes to find somewhere to sit. The elevator takes him up to something that looks almost like an office and he wanders into an open room, sitting down and shooting off a text to let Roman know where he is. He gets a quick acknowledgment and that he'll let him know when he's done. He switches over to the thing he'd been looking at in the car and loses himself quickly in the mindless scroll of the Internet.

He's not sure how much time passes before he glances around for an outlet to charge his phone. He drags a chair over to the corner and plugs in the charger, looking around as he waits for the little beep that lets him know it's working. There's a set of screens on the far wall, each showing a different camera, he presumes. One of them looks out at a loading dock, one of them shows a skating rink where someone's training, one of them shows another empty rink, and the last one has another door—probably a secondary exit of some kind. He shrugs and looks back at his phone.

"Excuse me?"

He looks up to see a man with glasses and a big coffee mug with cat whiskers peering through the door. "Uh, hi?"

"Are you supposed to be in here?"

"I, um, I'm with Roman? He said I could find somewhere up here to sit?"

"Oh, you must be Virgil!" Virgil blinks as the man grins and comes over to offer his hand. "I'm Patton, nice to meet you."

"Hi, Patton. Uh—you are? Sorry."

"No, it's fine, you're all good. I'm one of the event coordinators for the arena. Roman talks about you all the time, I was wondering if we'd ever get to meet you."

"Yeah, I, uh…nice to meet you too." Virgil shuffles a bit. "You, uh, have you worked with Roman for long?"

"Sort of—I don't work with Roman directly, but I see him when he's booked here. They've decided to train here this year, which is exciting, but he's so busy all the time." Patton grins, crossing his arms. "But I guess you know that, huh?"

"Yeah, I—wait, you—" he frowns. "What do you mean 'booked here?'"

"For a show or a competition or something." Patton leans down, muttering like they're sharing a secret. "Between you and me, I don't blame you for sitting up here. It gets cold in the rinks, doesn't it?"

"Sorry—can we go back another step?" Virgil shakes his head. "What do you mean, for a show or competition?"

Patton frowns. "For the season."

"What season? Season of what?"

He frowns for another second, before something like exasperation makes him sigh. "Did Roman tell you what he does?"

"No. Not even a little bit."

Patton sighs again and nods to the screens. "That's him, on the camera there."

Virgil turns to look. The only person on the screens is the one skating. Wait—

"That's Roman?"

"Roman Prince, reigning champion," Patton says, coming up behind him as Virgil stares at Roman training on the ice, "I'm not that surprised he didn't tell you, he's surprisingly private about his off-stage life."

Roman skates. Roman is a figure skater. Roman competes at a professional level as a skater. Roman is the fucking reigning champion?

He hears Patton say something about getting back to work but if he needs anything, let him know. He must respond—he hopes it wasn't too rude—but he's too focused on the way Roman is literally fucking dancing on the ice right now. He looks like he's at the Olympics. Shit, has Roman been to the Olympics? Why didn't Roman tell him he skates for a living? Why is he here while Roman is training? And what the fuck did Patton mean about Roman talking about him all the time?

He completely fucking forgets about his phone as he watches Roman skate. Every so often someone else skates up to him—his trainer, probably, even though Roman called him his boss. Shit, Roman really didn't want him to know about this, did he? Is he gonna be mad that Virgil's watching him?

He's really fucking good.

It feels like no time at all before Roman's disappearing from the frame and then he gets a text that he's almost done, coming up to find him, and Virgil's still staring at the screen trying to fit the pieces together that Roman's a professional skater who talks about him to the people he works with.

He doesn't quite manage that by the time Roman's pushing the door open with a breathless smile, his hair slightly messy, and his cheeks glowing from the exercise.

"Hey, sorry about that, but I'm all done, we can…"

He trails off when he notices Virgil staring at the screens, smile fading a bit.

"Right," he says, mostly to himself, "forgot about those."

"You, uh," Virgil mumbles, "so you skate?"

"Yeah. I skate."

There's a moment. Someone down the hall opens a door.

"I'm sure you have questions," Roman says finally, "but can I answer them in the car?"

"Yeah, sure."

Roman's quiet as they go back downstairs, waving to the front desk person again. They get in the car and start driving. Virgil bites his tongue for as long as he can before they finally stop at a red light and he musters his courage.

"Why didn't you tell me you skate?"

He hears Roman sigh. "I didn't mean to keep it a secret from you, it's just…I didn't know how you'd react."

"Did you think I wouldn't think it was a real job, or something?"

"What? No, no, I just—I didn't know if you watched skating or followed it at all or—or if you'd know who I am, or something like that." The light turns green and Roman turns onto the next road. "And then…well, it's not like I know what you do for a living either."

"I'm a systems engineer."

"Oh. That's cool."

"Thanks."

They drive for a few more minutes.

"Patton said you're quiet about your private life," he says, like an asshole, and he wants to take it back as soon as it comes out but Roman's already answering.

"Yeah, well, I'm not famous famous like some people are, but I'm…people know me. And it's not like I want people poking into what I do when I'm not being Roman Prince on the ice. Plus, especially with it being the holidays…" He trails off and sighs again. "Sorry, I don't want to bring the mood down."

"You're not bringing the mood down, you're just talking. You can tell me if you want to."

They stop at another red light and Roman looks at him. Really looks at him, like he's trying to figure out if Virgil's telling the truth. Which he is, he totally is, and he hopes Roman can see that. He must, or at least decide Virgil's not just asking to be nosy, because he looks away again.

"There are people who are into figure skating all year long and that's great, but they're, like, fans. And I love my fans, really, but I don't—sometimes it gets a bit much, you know?"

"Yeah."

"And then there are people who just like it for the holidays because it's 'festive.' Like, 'oh, let's go ice skating, it's Christmas,' or 'oh, let's go see a skating show because it's winter,' that sort of thing. And then they do it, and then it's done, and they go home and have their actual holidays together, and…"

Something terribly sad enters Roman's voice as they sit in the snow at the light, and Virgil suddenly has the image of a performer's smile fading as the lights go out. And it strikes him how terribly lonely what Roman's describing sounds, like he's just something people check off their lists and then move on with those they actually care about. And how much Patton seemed to understand that of course Roman didn't tell him what he did for a living.

"You want people to want to spend time with you for who you are," he says quietly, "not what you are."

"Yeah," Roman says back, equally soft, "that's it."

He looks down at his cane, spinning it in his hand. "I get that."

"I know you do." Roman reaches out and puts a hand on his shoulder. "I really didn't mean to keep secrets."

"It's fine, I get it. But thank you for telling me."

The light turns green and they start driving again. The silence feels gentler, somehow, Roman even starts humming under his breath. It's that same song that was playing over the speakers when they first met at the park.

Wait a fucking second.

"You asked me to skate."

"Huh?"

"When we met, at the park, you offered to skate with me. Even though you skate for a living and someone might have recognized you."

"What was I supposed to do?" Roman sighs, but this time it's clear he's going for drama. "I was talking to this cute guy and my brain fell out of my ears."

"You—what?"

Roman glances over and chuckles. "You're getting all blushy again, you know."

"I—what—shut up!"

"Did Patton also say I talk about you all the time?"

"Maybe!"

"Well, there you go, cutie. Wha—hey, hey! I'm driving!"

"You'll fucking live, you absolute dick."

But Roman's laughing again and he looks so happy that Virgil can't be mad for very much longer. And, you know, he is driving, and he would like to make it to the restaurant in one piece.

"You're paying for lunch, you know."

"Whatever you say, cutie."

5.

"If you dragged me all the way out here for nothing, I swear to God—"

"We're almost there, I promise, I promise."

Virgil groans, slumping down in the car seat at Roman makes yet another turn. Roman texted him two hours ago asking if he was free and could they go somewhere really quickly, he promises it's worth it, and Virgil had been too caught up in the sappy floaty feeling of Roman's excitement to say no, and now here they are, driving who the fuck knows where, in the dark, up a path that barely has any lights.

"How do you even know we're not getting lost?"

"We're not lost, I know exactly where we are."

"So if I got out a paper map and said 'where are we,' you could point to it and you'd be right?"

"Well, I'd be more impressed that you had a paper map with this exact area that you could be accurate about—"

"What, you don't think I've got maps?"

"I'd never doubt your map capabilities, Virgil."

"You'd better not, the atlas my mom got me for fourth grade would be so disappointed at you when I throw it at your head."

"I'm sorry, you're the one throwing it and it's going to be disappointed at me?"

"Yeah, 'cause you did something so outrageous it's made me need to throw it."

Roman chuckles as he makes another turn—are they going up a hill or something? "My mistake. Really, we are almost there."

"Uh-huh."

"What, you don't believe me?"

"I believe you about as much as I did the last ten times you've said it."

"I have not said it ten times!"

"No, you've said it way more than ten times."

"Well, if you keep asking 'are we there yet,' I'm going to keep answering you."

"Are we there yet?"

"Almost."

"Are we there y—" Roman reaches over and pushes his shoulder lightly. "Okay, okay, I'll knock it off."

"Look, see that sign?"

Virgil sits up and peers through the windshield at the sign that reads 'Observation Point.' "Yeah."

"That's where we're going."

"Fine, fine, you're not a liar."

"Thank you."

Sure enough, it really is only a few more moments before Roman's pulling the car out onto a large flat overlook and putting it in park. Virgil looks around, trying to figure out what exactly they're doing all the way out here and why Roman was so insistent that they go tonight, when Roman turns the headlights off. "Whoa, whoa, what are you doing?"

"Relax, I'm keeping the heat on so we don't freeze." He nods out the window. "Look."

"I can't see shit, Roman, look at what?"

"Give your eyes a second to adjust."

He looks, truly not expecting to see anything. It's just blackness, the afterglow of the headlights still burning his retinas out. He squints. There are surprisingly few clouds out tonight, especially considering the winter weather they're supposed to get later this week. He can sort of see something through the gloom, below them, but it's not that clear yet. Slowly, little by little, his eyes adjust and…

"Oh," he says in a rush of breath.

The entire city sprawls out beneath them. Glittering and shimmering houses, buildings, Christmas lights and flashing decorations. The snow sparkles with it, the glow almost a sea of wonder against the inky blue night sky. Reds, greens, blues, purples, far-away inflatables that must be giant but look like nothing more than storybook characters from this high up. Some of the houses closest to them have trees, right out front, others have sleighs and reindeer, even more have snowmen just barely lit by the edges of the shining lights.

It's incredible.

"I didn't think I'd get a chance to see it this year," Roman says, as if he's afraid to break the silence, "but then it cleared up and I knew it'd be perfect."

Virgil can't say anything. He's too spellbound.

"Thank you for coming with me."

"Thank you for asking. This is—holy fuck, Roman, this is so fucking cool."

"I'm glad you like it. I was a bit worried with the roads, sometimes they don't clear them properly, but at least we can sit in the car instead of having to walk or something."

Maybe it's the fact that he's tired, or the surge of sappiness when Roman had said he'd known it'd be perfect and he'd reached out for Virgil, or maybe he's been holding this in since Roman held out that stupid hot chocolate. Whatever it is, Virgil sniffles.

"Whoa, hey, hey," Roman murmurs right away, reaching out for him like the stupidly perfect Prince Charming, "what's wrong, honey? Are you okay? Did I say something wrong?"

"No," Virgil spits through his stupid tears, "no, you did—you did everything right."

"O..kay?"

"You did everything right," he says again, "you—you made sure we could drive so we could just sit in the car and you picked me up so you could drive me instead of making me take the bus and you asked how much walking was too much walking and you stood up for me and you asked me if it was rude before you asked about my cane and you got me hot chocolate and you're—you're—"

An actual sob chokes out of his mouth and he claps a hand over it, only for Roman to let out a noise of dismay and coaxes his hand away, holding it tightly. He leans over the console and tenderly wipes away one of Virgil's tears and it's too soft and gentle and perfect—

"You did everything right," Virgil manages, not daring to look at Roman's concerned face, "you—you're too sweet."

Roman lets out the softest noise and strokes his cheek again. "You're worth being sweet to, honey."

"Shut up, you're gonna make me cry more."

"That's okay, honey, you can cry. That's—it's a good cry, right?"

"Yeah, you bastard, it's a good cry." He sniffles. "Now shut up."

"Can I shut up and hug you?"

"Yes."

And goddamnit, an awkward hug where Roman has to lean halfway out of his seat over the console to get his arms around him should not feel so warm and safe and comforting, but fuck it, Virgil's already crying into his shoulder anyway, he might as well fully commit to it. If Roman has a problem with contorting himself to hug a sobbing mess, he doesn't say anything about it. No, he just keeps humming and shushing Virgil with sweet nonsense, his hand alternating between carding through his hair and stroking his cheek. It's not fair, and Virgil's not giving it up for anything.

Eventually, his tears run dry and he scrubs his nose with his sleeve as Roman sits back down, keeping one hand on the back of his neck. Fingers play with the hair right above his collar. He sniffles.

"Sorry."

"Don't apologize, honey, it's okay. You didn't do anything wrong."

"I just cried all over you."

"Oh no," Roman says dryly, "however will I survive such a terrible fate?"

"Yeah, yeah, shut up."

Roman chuckles, fingers still scratching lightly at Virgil's scalp. "Really, Virgil, it's alright. I'm just glad I'm not the only one getting all sappy."

If he were less emotionally drained from crying, or if Roman's fingers were less good at making him melt into a boneless little puddle, he might have had a retort for that. Instead, he just looks out over the lights in all their sparkling glory and sighs, leaning into the touch. Roman starts humming again and there they sit, enjoying the night.

"If I fall asleep," he mumbles, "will you wake me up?"

"If you fall asleep, I'll drive you home and then wake you up so we can get you to bed."

"Fine."

He tries. He tries doggedly to stay awake, to not miss a moment of this, of the lights, the night, of Roman and his stupid Prince-Charming self. But he must fall asleep, or at least get close to it, because the fingers in his hair slow, and stop. Roman chuckles softly, and the car starts, and they drive through the night. And for a moment, as they leave behind the sea of lights, he thinks that Roman lied to him—they can't be in a car, just driving home.

Not when it feels like they're flying.

+1.

It's really a surprise that he managed to hold it back for this long, but it was eventually going to happen.

The swirling mist of a monster that is his anxiety has been biding its time, waiting for him to let his guard down to spring out and warp him up in its stupid fucking mess and make him stop appreciating everything that's going on and make it just the fucking worst.

Roman Prince is too perfect, it decides. There's no way this all gets to happen to him and there's no catch. The image of the hidden cameras and the reality show crew comes back; when do they jump out and say it's all fake? When is the illusion going to shatter?

Maybe he's just biding his time and trying to find a way to exit Virgil's life and never return. Maybe he has a partner, or something, and he really thinks Virgil's just his friend. Maybe he's not even gay. Maybe Virgil's just a fling and he's going to leave as soon as New Year's is over. Maybe he's going to get swept up in his life of professional figure skating again and Virgil will be stuck with chasing down his shows and competitions to even see him ever again. Maybe they're going to become the friends that aren't really friends but they still have each other's number for some reason.

Maybe—

"You're thinking too loudly," Roman murmurs from where his face is tucked near the crook of Virgil's shoulder, reaching out to pause the movie, "are you okay?"

Virgil sighs, leaning back into Roman's embrace. He'd surprised him by coming over—well, no, he'd texted to ask if Virgil would mind if he came over, but that was out of nowhere, so it counted—and then they'd ordered way too much food and put on a Christmas movie, and Virgil had pushed for The Nightmare Before Christmas and Roman hadn't protested. And then Roman had asked if he could cuddle him—"Because it's a crime to leave you sitting there on the couch, in the dark, like you have no one to cuddle you, honey."—and then he'd wrapped his arms around him and it'd been all warm and soft and cozy and Virgil hadn't wanted to move to get his hot chocolate from the coffee table that probably wasn't even hot anymore—

"You're still drifting." Roman sits up, pulling away. "Is everything okay?"

Virgil bites his lip. "It's dumb."

"I like dumb things."

"You'll laugh."

"Only if you say something funny."

"You'll be mad," he says in a very quiet voice, and he feels Roman stutter above him. He squeezes his eyes shut.

"Oh, honey," he hears distantly, before the couch is shifting under him and there are warm hands carefully cupping his face. "Will you look at me, please?"

He doesn't want to. He wants to stay here in the dark with Roman touching him like he's something precious, but then Roman's calling his name and fuck it, he can't disappoint Roman, so he opens his eyes. Roman smiles at him with that same fucking soft smile that's been taking him out at the knees since day one, and he can tell he's pouting before Roman even says anything.

"I'm not going to be mad," he says with all the patience in the world, "if something's bothering you, I want to know about it. Please, tell me?"

"You're not leaving, right?"

As soon as the words leave his mouth and Roman scrunches up his face in confusion, he wants to run away and hide under all his blankets and never speak to anyone again.

"Never mind. Forget it."

"What do you mean, am I leaving?"

"I said forget it. See? Dumb. Never mind."

"Don't do that," Roman chides gently, pulling his focus back, "don't hide from me. What did you mean?"

Virgil sighs, trying to not lose himself in how warm Roman's hands are. "It's just—everyone leaves. Sort of. I know—I mean I get it. I get how these things go. You—it's the holidays, right? You get all the emotions and then New Year's happens and you move on. I know that happens, I know that's how it works sometimes, and it's fine, I get it, but—"

"Slow down." He sits up. "Why do you think I'm leaving?"

Fuck it. "Because you're too perfect, okay? You—you're sweet and kind and you help me with everything and you're fun to be around and you're funny and you're smart and—and you're really fucking attractive, and I don't—" he takes a deep breath— "I don't know what to do about it anymore, okay?"

Roman's quiet. He's quiet for a long moment. Then his hands leave Virgil's face and he cringes, curling up in on himself—he's done it, he's made Roman leave, it's his fault, it's all his fault, they didn't even make it to New Year's—

His eyes fly open in shock when Roman suddenly hugs him tightly. His breath leaves him in a rush as Roman squeezes, holding him with such a fierce strength that he just ends up going limp in his hold.

"I don't know," Roman growls, "what sort of absolute assholes have been so cruel to you that you think everyone is just going to leave, but they'd better fucking hope we never meet."

"Wh—what?"

"You're fucking perfect too, Virgil. You're smart and you make me laugh and you're genuinely kind to people and you—you make me feel safe, okay?" He pulls back but somehow this is worse because now they're just staring into each other's eyes. "You're amazing. Why the hell would I want to leave you?"

"I—um—well—"

"I don't want to leave," Roman confesses, and fuck, Virgil can hear his heart breaking, "do…you don't want me to leave, do you?"

"No," he says in a rush, "no, I don't want you to leave."

"Great, 'cause I wanna be stuck with you until you're sick of me."

"I'm not gonna get sick of you—"

"Well, I'm not gonna get sick of you either—"

"Great!"

"Great!"

And then he's the one leaning forward to knock Roman over with a hug. Roman wraps his arms just as tightly around him and suddenly there's a kiss being pressed to his head.

Everything stops.

"Shit," Roman breathes, and it curls around his ear, "I…I meant to ask if that was okay before I did it, I'm sorry, I—"

But Virgil's already turned and pressed a kiss of his own to Roman's jaw. He feels more than hears Roman's breath stutter, the chest under him jumping as Roman turns to look at him. Like this, their faces are barely a few inches apart, and Roman smells like hot chocolate.

"It's okay," Virgil mumbles into their shared space, "it's…more than okay."

And there Roman goes, curling his mouth up into that fucking soft smile again, and then he's sliding a hand up to cup the back of Virgil's. "So I can kiss you?"

"Yes, you can kiss me."

Fuck, he tastes like hot chocolate too.

"I'm not leaving," Roman whispers against his lips, not bothering to pull away, "I'm not leaving you, baby."

"Fuck."

"No good?"

"Very good," Virgil mumbles, leaning forward again, but then his phone is buzzing and he's pulling back with a curse to make it shut the fuck up. Roman comes up and wraps his arms around him again, hands slowly playing with the hem of his sweater as his chin hooks over his shoulder. "I'm almost done, I promise."

"Am I 'Prince Charming' in your phone?"

"No," Virgil says, like a liar as he throws his phone onto the floor.

"Aww, that's so cute, baby."

"Shut up and kiss me, Princey."

"As you wish," Roman murmurs, and then Virgil doesn't have a chance to think about the fact that he just called Roman 'Princey.'

They don't end up finishing the movie, but Roman says they can watch the rest over breakfast instead.

General Taglist: @frxgprince@potereregina@gattonero17@iamhereforthegayshit@thefingergunsgirl@awkwardandanxiousfander@creative-lampd-liberties@djpurple3@winterswrandomness@sanders-sides-uncorrect-quotes@iminyourfandom@bullet-tothefeels@full-of-roman-angst-trash  @ask-elsalvador @ramdomthingsfrommymind@demoniccheese83@pattonsandershugs @el-does-photography @princeanxious@firefinch-ember@fandomssaremysoul@im-an-anxious-wreck@crazy-multifandomfangirl @punk-academian-witch@enby-ralsei@unicornssunflowersandstuff@wildhorsewolf @thetruthaboutthesun @stubbornness-and-spite @princedarkandstormv  @your-local-fookin-deadmeme @angels-and-dreams@averykedavra @a-ghostlight-for-roman @treasurechestininterweb @cricketanne @queerly-fluid-fan @compactdiscdraws@cecil-but-gayer@i-am-overly-complicated@annytheseal@alias290@tranquil-space-ninja @arxticandy @mychemically-imbalanced-romance@whyiask@crows-ace @emilythezeldafan@frida0043 @ieatspinalcords @snowyfires@cyanide-violence@oonagh2@xxpanic-at-the-everywherexx@rabbitsartcorner @percy-07734@triflingassailantofmyemotions @virgil-sanders-the-gay-emo@cerulean-watermelon@puffed-up-bees@meltheromanstan@joyrose-fandomer@insanitori@mavenmush@justablah65@10paradox10@uhhh-hi-there-i-am-nervous@cutebisexualmess@bella-bugatti-frogetti-baguetti@ultrageekygirl

[legobiwan]

One of the many, many things that fascinates me about Stanford Pines is that throughout the series, he has always has a goal or a purpose.

As a child and teen, he wants to prove himself through academic achievement, to show that he's better than those single-celled simpletons who call him a freak.

In his college years, the man gets 12 PhDs. He doesn't even space them out or anything, he literally mainlines qualifying exams and dissertations like a rail of coke. Not only does this give him a purpose, but in my mind, it distracts him from his other issues, including social awkwardness (minus Fiddleford) and the whole debacle with his brother. And, he'll get to prove to everyone just how much better he is than them.

Post-doctoral binge, he goes to Gravity Falls, and his new purpose is to catalogue anomalies and discover the Unifying Theory of Weirdness he is developing. Nothing like this has been published before, and not only will this feed into Ford's desire to prove himself, but it might even be a way of creating a justification for belonging in a certain place, even if socially, he's hitting the same impasses he had in his younger years.

Then Bill comes into the picutre. Woo-wee. Ford's purpose is Bill's purpose, which is the Portal.

And then Ford discovers Bill's betrayal and falls through the Portal. Ford spends thirty years with his purpose being Bill's destruction.

Ford's pulled back to his own dimension by his brother. The ultimate goal still seems to be containing Bill, but beyond that, we see Ford, for the first time in a long time, being a little lost, which may have contributed to why he latched onto Dipper (a literal twelve-year old, jfc Ford) so hard.

Stan gives himself up for the world and Ford's new purpose to spend his remaining years making sure his brother is happy.

Okay, so why get into this? Because I want to explore what would happen to a post-Weirdmaggedon Ford if his purpose was torn away. Ford has been so goal-oriented his entire life, that a sudden loss like that would, I imagine, not only cast him adrift, but cause him to start seeking goals and purposes in dark, shady, triangular corners.

I suppose what I'm saying is this: we don't like thinking about it, but what if Stan dies early? Ford can't use the kids as his emotional anchor and in my headcanon, Fiddleford has regained enough memories to be wary of Ford (sorry everyone, I am firmly in the camp that while Ford and Fiddleford may have had something going in their youth, Ford was enough of a jerk later on that Fiddleford, while forgiving him, also won't go out of his way to interact with him. Which I think would be best for Fiddleford).

Who does this leave Ford with?

A stone, three-sided corpse and an idea.

[pumkinsyrup]

GOOD OMENS SPOILERS

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Making a long post about Gabriel/Beelzebub here:

EPISODE ONE

- (sorry for bad photo) Rewatching Season 2 and THE FLY IS IN THE BOX OH MY GOD! Not only was my fly observation correct but it was there the whole TIME.

- When Beelzebub is asking for Crowley to bring Gabriel to them their noise shifts from their frustrated tone to a more pleading desperate tone.

EPISODE 2

- Gabriel remembering Beezlebubs favorite song

- The fly being close to Gabriel

EPISODE 3

-Beelzebub wanting to know if Gabriel has been found and being so concerned other demons are noticing

-Gabriel mentioning the fly

EPISODE 4

- Beelzebub reacting to the mention of Edinburgh, a place special to the both of them, as well as hearing that Gabriel is most likely in the bookshop.

- Also Beelzebub not looking happy that Shax wants to make Gabriel a tribute to Satan.

EPISODE 5

-kinda forgot srry but Gabriel slaying in that outfit

EPISODE 6

- “let’s do Armageddon again!” “Nuh- uh” “fym Nuh-uh?”(dramatic retelling)

- Totally being down to going to hell, cus then he could be with Beelzebub.

- he’s very sad he has to be still an Angel also concerned that his memories are gonna be gone

- Gabriel mentioning his tailored outfit. Also being sassy about having a desk, him just making up shit to save his memory

- him putting the fly in the box :((( also sad that he threw the first gift he ever got on the ground:((

- Beelzebub and Gabriel being in the same room again :((

- “I AM IN THE FLY”

- the lil fly Beelzebub gave :) being the only fly in the whole shop

Also sorry for this being a whole line but it’s important!!:

- “No wonder nobody could find you. This is where you were keeping all your memories. All your… you” “Look at you. You’re perfect”

-my mini fly theory was right about Beelzebub referring to the fly as Gabriel! Also how much they care for that fly not only cus it’s a gift to Gabriel but Gabriel is the fly. Also feeling special that he kept all his memories in a fly that they gifted him!

- all their flashbacks <3

- the enemies to lovers trope

- also how these two hit it off immediately cus they go back and forth about who lost as well as how they don’t feel as respected and appreciated.

- “Everyday” playing in the background of their next encounter :) and how Beelzebub mentions how they like it and Gabriel is immediately like “oh same”

- the lyric “Love like yours will surely come my way” as it shows Beelzebub looks at Gabriel. Cus it seems like Gabriel was interested first with his comment about being disappointed to not see Beelzebub after their first meeting. So this is their turn to fall for Gabriel

- them saying “we won’t meet again” and then meet again… to state at a statue of Gabriel.

- Gabriel hearing other song at the pub and going nah and playing Beelzebubs favorite song

- Gabriel just making “Everyday” forever play in the pub as a gift to Beelzebub

- Beelzebub giving Gabriel one of their flies. I assume it’s a special fly considering it’s a container fly. And something so special like that being given to him a his first gift.

- last lyric before the zoom out being about being in love

- after Gabriel getting his memories he’s just like “😯oh hi” *sees Beelzebub* “🥰you.”

- Silly Angel 😇🥰🥰

- “I just found something that mattered more to me than choosing sides” *HAND HOLDING*

- They both looked so happy :)))

- Also not Aziraphale holding onto Crowley after the hand holding like bruhhhhh you could’ve had this *starts sobbing*

- they both just want to be with eachother :))

- “Wherever Beelzebub is… is my heaven” “And where you are, my sweet, is forever my hell”

- They both don’t care about Heaven and He’ll they just want eachother. Singing to eachother :))))))))

Beelzebub and Gabriel were able to fall in love faster than Crowley AND Aziraphale

like lmfao jfc but really I wish Aziraphale and Crowley had a happier ending:((