#(anon don’t freak out *I* am fine this is entirely about how I think Link would react)

[askthehylianchampion]

Link. Just as Revali, you, too, are running out of time. Your life might be in an infinite circle, sure, and your spirit may be bound to always reawaken when time needs it, but that in it of itself does not prevent the universe from swallowing you whole, just as it will do to Revali and the others. The grand universe consumes all. You are nothing but a speck of dust. You affect nothing. Hylia, Dinraal, Nayru, Farosh, they also affect nothing, even should your "legends" claim otherwise. You are but a single atom that doesn't do anything compared to an infinite universe which eats up everything around it and spits back nothing. Once you and your friends pass, you will be forgotten. So what if you pulled that sword? The universe cares not. It will just forget you. It will forget everyone. Nobody is to be remembered. Because nobody is important. So, just remember, your time is coming soon. Tick, tock. Tick, tock. Tick.... tock.

i need to be alone

[a-singleboat]

His Shirt

Word Count: 1533

A/N: I literally have no excuse, but I’m back!

Request: Can I request something where the reader and Shayne have been seeing each other for a little while and she unknowingly wears one of his shirts to work and the whole day goes by like normal but towards the end of it, someone like Noah or something ends up questioning it like “how has no one noticed this, or mentioned it all freaking day?!” And Shayne gets shy about it but the reader just laughs it off and it’s all cute and fluffy af💕💕- Anon

Over quarantine, you’d seen very little of any of your friends and coworkers. Working from home was tough, especially since you and your partner had just made the decision to move in with each other a week before the entire country had been submerged into a lockdown that stretched over a few months. The days blended together and eventually dragged on, which made you excited to return to work if anything. 

The morning of your official return, you woke up extremely early, not having been able to sleep the night before due to pure excitement. You wanted to get back to filming, to doing all the things you did before going into quarantine, you missed the hustle and bustle of set life. 

You were dressed before Shayne was, throwing on a button up from your shared closet as well as a pair of dark-wash jeans that only felt a little tight at the waist. You weren’t concerned, seeing as you were never really on the skinny side of fitness, you figured it was just early morning bloating that would go away as the day went on.

“Are you driving or am I?” you asked, bouncing on the balls of the feet as you waited for Shayne to pull on a thin jacket. It wasn’t fully winter yet but it also wasn’t cold enough to constitute a full coat. You had a thinner track jacket on as well, the zipper zipped only part of the way up in your hurry. 

Shayne paused by you to pull up the zipper the rest of the way before pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Calm down,” he advised, pulling his mask on over the bottom half of his face. “We still have to grab breakfast before heading to the offices, Courtney asked if we could stop by that bagel place by us she likes.”

“Is it even open?” you asked, patting down your pockets to make sure you had everything. Once you were sure you had your phone, keys, and wallet, you then realized that you had completely forgotten your purse inside. You whirled around to head back inside when Shayne handed you the black bag, a knowing smirk on his face. 

“They’re open for pickups only,” he told you, pulling your keys from your pocket, “and I’ll drive, I don’t feel like getting pulled over by the cops today.”

“I’m not that bad at driving,” you tried to defend yourself, hurrying after him as he walked off to the parking lot. “I just take the speed limit signs as suggestions but that doesn’t mean I’m bad at it.”

He didn’t respond, instead holding the passenger seat door open for you. His action was answer enough. You slid into the passenger seat and buckled in as he shut the door tight, running around to the other side and sliding into the driver’s seat. 

“What are we going to tell them when you roll up driving my car, huh?” you questioned. “Our friends know we moved into the same apartment because it was cheaper as roommates, not because we started dating. If you roll up driving my car they’ll have questions.”

“It’ll be fine,” he tried to parlay your worries. “Besides, if you’re that concerned about it I can just say you had a headache or didn’t feel like driving after we got to the bagel shop. Not the end of the world.”

You sank back into your seat, coming to terms with the fact that Shayne was not going to let you drive. He pulled out of the parking lot as One Direction played softly in the background, the aux cord trailing from its socket to the connector on your phone as you dictated what you listened to on the way to the bagel shop. 

Shayne got out of the car when you got there, heading in to pick up the order you had called ahead for on the way there. He was back before Temporary Fix ended, handing the bagels over to you as you switched over to Alec Benjamin for the rest of the ride in. 

You ate your bagel on the way in, putting the vegetable spread evenly over the toasted bread and eating it as Water Fountain played. You held out a bit of your bagel, silently asking if Shayne wanted any. He took the bite, smiling when he realized you accidentally got cream cheese on his cheek. You reached out with a napkin and wiped it off before finishing the rest of your bagel. 

You arrived at the offices shortly after, unplugging your phone from the aux and exiting the vehicle. Luckily, no one was outside to see the two of you enter the building. You would say you were walking a little too closely for it to be considered friendly, especially during a pandemic, but everyone knew that the two of you were close friends anyways. Walking close together wouldn’t give anything away. 

“What do you have to film today?” you made small talk in the elevator, getting to your working mindset. You knew what you had to do, film a gaming video with Ian, Noah, and Courtney, as well as take a look and collaborate with the writers on a new skit idea for when production went back to being fully up and running. It would be a short day for you, which wasn’t ideal but at least you got some camera time.

Shayne looked up from his phone. “I’ve got the meeting with the crew and then some gaming videos, I think. We’re also planning for the Christmas video soon, so I’ll probably be with Wardrobe for most of the day.”

You hummed as the elevator doors opened, Shayne tucking his phone away and then sending you a wink. You felt your face burn hot as you scrunched up your nose. You reached up to fix your mask as you waited for the elevator to go up to the main office floor, heading straight for your desk where a pack of Lysol wipes and a temperature gun were waiting. 

Proactive, you thought, using the wipes to clean off the surface of your desk before finally setting your things down. You took your jacket off, draping over the back of your chair before sitting. You had about thirty minutes before your call time so you checked your email and went over a few of the new safety regulations that were put in place for filming.

The most notable were the fifteen-minute COVID tests you would have to take before and after each section of filming, meaning you couldn’t enter or exit the filming area without a negative test. Honestly, that was a good thing if any. At least the company cared in that way. 

Filming took up the rest of your day and when you finally finished with your writer’s meeting, it was six pm. Not as early as a day as you would have hoped but you’ve definitely stayed in the studio for longer so you weren’t going to complain. 

You were sitting at your desk as you waited for Shayne to finish up his meeting, casually chatting with Noah to pass the time. You were sharing one of your quarantine stories when Shayne walked in, heading straight for your desk with his things already collected. 

“Are you ready to go?” he asked, adjusting her jacket. “Also, what do you want for dinner tonight because I was thinking we could have lasagna but if we want lasagna we have to stop by the market on the way.”

You laughed, pulling your jacket on. “I could go for lasagna.”

Noah looked between the two of you, slowly connecting the dots. He pointed at you, a grin on his face as realization crossed his features. “That’s Shayne’s shirt.”

You looked down, realizing that, yeah, you were wearing Shayne’s shirt. You looked over at Shayne who’s cheeks were as red as a tomato. He started stammering, offering reasons as to why you were wearing his shirt. 

You just shrugged, quickly thinking for a way out. “The laundry must have gotten mixed up. Not the first time I’d accidentally worn his shirts.” 

 Noah gave you a look that read that he didn’t quite believe you. But he let it go, taking note of Shayne’s red cheeks and your flustered looks. He smirked, patting your shoulder as he got up. 

“I’ll believe you for now,” he said, leaving the two of you to stew in your minor embarrassment. 

“How long until everyone knows?” you asked Shayne who looked only mildly mortified that Noah was the first to find out. “We weren’t even keeping it a secret either… I’m proud of us anyhow.”

“I guess that means we don’t have to worry about who sees us now,” he said, looking on the bright side. “And yeah, keeping it a secret any longer would have been kinda dumb, wouldn’t it have been.”

You headed to the elevators, linking your arm through Shayne’s. 

“Not excited for the fans to find out, though.”

Shayne looked at you and then looked back at the opening elevator doors. “We don’t have to tell them. It can be Smosh’s little secret.”

TAGLIST

@beautiful-holland​ @toms-order​ @starlightfound​  @positiveparker​ @bippity-boppity-boopa​ @caswinchester2000​ @andreasworlsboring101 @imladylunaticbitch​ @paige0103​ @theofficialzivadavid​

[meat--grindr]

another trans man fixated on Martin here!! 💕

could i request some NSFW of an ftm S/O teasing Martin while hes on the phone trying to do another interview as The Count? not a lot of talking from the S/O while hes on the phone, mostly physical stuff & feeling him up thru his clothes. the rest is up to you >:)))

(def going to use as a drawing prompt im just so so embarrassed to request off anon 😔😔😔)

Alright, so, this prompt has been living in my head rent-free ever since I first read it and I am so freaking excited to finally get to it. I’m sorry it took so long. I will admit this was a bit of a challenge for me because I am notoriously bad at writing dialogue. But I feel like it was good practice. Sorry if it sounds a little stilted in spots, I’m still learning.

Please, please, please link me to that art if you ever get around to it! You knocked it out of the park with this prompt and I’d love to give the art some love if you’re comfortable with sharing!

The Count Didn’t Count on This – Martin Mathias (Trans-Masculine Reader) – NSFW.

·       It’s late, and for once, you’re exactly where you feel you should be at this late hour—not sprawled across a chair reading, or gazing out of the window, watching the cars pass and counting the neighbours’ lights as they flick on and off in lieu of stargazing. And for the first time in at least a week, you’re not trapped at your desk, frantically typing the final draft of a paper, hindered by the slow keys of a typewriter that does not care a whit about the deadline steadily hurtling toward you. No, thankfully, this night has brought with it far more comfortable circumstances—you find yourself in bed, tired bones sinking into the plush mattress, consciousness caught in the bleary space between sleep and not.

·       Even better, you aren’t alone.

·       Tonight, your bed is warmed by another body, long and thin, curled tightly against your own, as though it were some sort of crime to leave even an inch of space between you. A bony hip digs into your thigh and you’re sure the press of your head and shoulder against his chest must make breathing difficult for him. But he’s made no attempt to shrug you off or shift your weight to a more comfortable spot, so you likewise let it be. In all honesty, you’re simply too comfortable to bother and you feel it’s safe to assume the same is true for Martin too.

·       The slow, even beat of his heart pulses against your cheek, and his long fingers stroke absently over your bare shoulder. The rough texture of burgeoning callouses catches against your skin—the sensation, though not wholly unpleasant, makes you shudder. Sometimes, you forget Martin works with his hands. When you hold them, they seem so delicate—his long fingers better suited to playing the piano than tightening screws or hammering nails. But he’s good at repairs and more importantly, he seems to find enjoyment the work. It certainly keeps him busy enough on the few afternoons that Cuda isn’t running him ragged in the shop, much to your personal dismay. But his nights—the nights like this—belong to you and you alone.

·       Your eyelids flutter closed, and for the first time in what feels like weeks, maybe even longer, you feel like you can rest. Really rest. Dimly, you find yourself wondering if it had more to do with finished papers and diminished responsibilities, or the reintroduction of the physical intimacy you’ve been missing so dearly. Though you can’t say for certain, you have a sneaking suspicion it’s the latter.

·       The longer you know Martin, the more you’re convinced that there is a preternatural bubble of calm that hangs around him. You can feel it in the way even the grouchiest old women in the store seem to soften toward him—hiding small smiles behind their sleeves, sometimes even calling him ‘dear,’ or in the way Cuda’s volatile temper deflates when his cruel words slide off Martin’s back as though he’s heard it all before from people who frightened him far greater. You’ve seen it at work on the feral cats that roam the neighbourhood—while they hiss and swipe at the children who chase them through the dusty streets, they sit willingly at Martin’s feet, rubbing against his legs with a familiarity that borders on friendly. And it’s in the way he looks at you—looks into you with those dark eyes that seem far too old for that handsome, youthful face—intense and all-seeing, but never judgemental. He is a point of unflappable calm in a world which never seems to slow for even a second. That calm has settled into you now, seeping into your bones as you lay there, listening to his heart thumping in the darkness.

·       The low crackle of the radio hovers at the edge of your hearing, a burst of static cutting through the droning voices. You’d stopped listening properly ages ago—the third time the DJ had made an attempt to dismiss his latest caller. It was an old man who was seven shades of pissed about the ‘teen-age hooligans’ who were ‘tipping over his bins every night and eating his trash.’ Of course, everyone with half a brain, including the host himself, knows it’s an animal—probably a raccoon, or a family of raccoons, but this old geezer has somehow convinced himself it’s a gaggle of ‘Satan-worshipping teenagers who have been brainwashed by heavy metal music and Pepsi Cola.’

·       Okay. Sure.

·       It’s utterly ridiculous, and just the sort of thing you’ve come to expect from the people who live in Braddock. Or the ones who call in to a show like this anyhow.

·       In a way, you feel bad for the poor DJ. Sure, he welcomes strange callers of all kinds, from alien abductees and bigfoot hunters to bereaved parents who teenagers are ‘just growing up too fast,’ or ‘a little too interested in the works of William Shakespeare.’ He even encourages them at times, but you’ve got to draw the line somewhere, and in your mind, this, funny as it may be, is probably it. You’re sure whatever the station is paying the guy, it isn’t enough to suffer through being called a ‘brainless sack of human garbage’ by a crazy old man.

·       “And that’s about all the time we have,” Despite his cheery tone, the poor guy sounds exhausted. “Thank you for calling!���

·       Another burst of static drowns out the old man’s reply, but you’re sure that whatever he’d said, it was not ‘radio-friendly.’

·       “…our next caller. You are on the air, Sir!”

·       “Yeah, uh…hi, Barry.” The man sounds young—probably not much older than yourself—and very nervous. He must be a first-time caller. As he and the DJ share opening pleasantries—what’s your name, how old are you, where are you calling in from tonight, is that a cat I hear in the background? —your attention begins to drift again. You teeter for a moment on the edge of sleep, the clean scent of your linen sheets and Martin’s shampoo filling your nose.

·       “I was just wondering if you’ve heard from the Count again since last time?”

·       And just like that, you’re awake again, attention fully focused on your radio and the funny little show that whispers through it.

·       The caller is asking about Martin. A cold shiver rumbles through your body. People ask about Martin on the show all the time—of course, they don’t know that’s who they’re asking about, but you do. It’s so strange, to hear a stranger talk about someone you know so well—even worse when they speak about him like they know him too. Sometimes, they make you laugh with their outlandish theories, but sometimes they make you sick—sick with worry: when he’s threatened with violence or exposure, sick with fear: when they make guesses that hit a little too close to home, and sick with jealousy: when they claim to have had an ‘encounter’ with him, or worse, try to set one up on air.

·       You know about Martin, of course—that he is a vampire, or at least he thinks he’s a vampire. Whether or not you believe him is another question entirely. He certainly does not abide by the ‘vampire rules’ as you know them from stories and television—he doesn’t sleep in a coffin, filled with dirt from his homeland or otherwise, rather he sleeps in a bed (curled up beside you more often than not these days). He cuts a handsome figure in mirrors and the photographs that you have pinned up above your desk. He walks about in the sun most days without complaint despite his pale complexion, and though he may not be a sleek. Predatory creature that oozes confidence, grace, and sex appeal, he’s no slouch either—lithe and handsome in a boyish sort of way, all knees, elbows, and wide dark eyes.

·       In fact, the only requirement he seems to meet on the proverbial ‘vampire checklist’ is his fixation with blood—and the need to consume it. Maybe that means something, maybe it doesn’t. You’ve come to the conclusion that what you think really doesn’t matter in the end—your opinion isn’t going to sway him on the subject one way or another. This is a truth about himself he believes perhaps more deeply than anything else. Who were you to try and change that?

·       So, you do your best to take everything in stride, and when you can’t, you humour him. Still, every once in a while, something will trip you up—you still can’t quite decide if he’s joking about being over eighty years old or not. But you do your best. You had even let him feed on you once. Though only once. In the end, it was Martin who had decided the experience was not one he would like to repeat.

·       He had laid you out on your bed, “I don’t want you to get hurt if you faint.” Though you’d told him nearly a hundred times that you’d be just fine, that you’d had blood taken before at the hospital, he had insisted.

·       You had expected things to be different. For a start, you had expected him to climb into your lap, to press his lips against your neck, seeking your pulse the way it’s done in the movies. Instead, he’d taken out a little white kit from his bag. He had unzipped it and laid it out on the bed, revealing a little bottle of clear liquid, a row of sterile, hypodermic needles, and a pack of fresh razor blades.

·       His long fingers fell upon the needles, caressing them lovingly one by one. Much to your relief, he did not pick one up. As if he could sense your apprehension, he’d said, “Don’t worry, I won’t need these.” He’d glanced up at you, measuring your reaction, “I won’t need them because you’re not going to fight me. Are you?” It wasn’t really a question. You shook your head, and the corners of his lips quirked up into a smile, “Good. It’s so much easier when they don’t fight me.” Those words had made you shudder. He really had done this before, then. Part of you hadn’t believed him—he seemed so…harmless

·       He’d picked out a single blade from the package, meticulously removing the white paper wrapping, taking extra care not to tear it, or let the blade cut into it. When he was through, he folded the paper into a neat square and dropped it onto the comforter. He lay the blade flat on his palm for you to see. “I don’t have pointy teeth, you see.” He took your hand, opening his mouth and guiding your fingers along the edges of his flat, dull teeth. “They aren’t sharp, so they don’t cut deep enough. You understand?” You’d nodded and he had kissed your fingertips gently, one by one.

·       “I’ll be careful, I promise,” He’d said, “I’ll only take a little. Just enough to take the edge off.” Despite the hungry glint in his eyes, you’d known he was telling the truth. He didn’t need to reassure you of that. You trusted him. Besides, you had asked for this. At least, he’d stopped asking if he still had your permission every five minutes. Of course he did.

·       And yet. Your heartbeat had kicked up, jittering like a frightened bird when you’d seen the needles and the razor. It was as though actually seeing them had made the whole situation feel more real. There was no denying you were afraid, but you didn’t tell him to stop—you didn’t want to. You had made up your mind. You wanted this; wanted to help.

·       He’d held your hand in his own like it was a thing made of glass. His fingers gripped the razor with a practiced grace as he held it just above your palm. Watching him, you were struck for the second time by just how rehearsed this seemed. How many times had he done this, with or without permission?

·       “Take a deep breath for me, okay? There’s a good boy.” Did he talk to the others too? Even the ones who fought back? You could picture him, chattering softly against the skin of some poor soul, sprawled limp across the floor.

·       Limp or lifeless?

·       The thought unsettled you, but you did as you were told, filling your lungs nearly to capacity as the sharp edge of the blade bit into the meat of your palm just below your thumb. As promised, he had been quick, pressing only as hard as was necessary. Even so, the sting of it made your flinch, your hand jumping in his own. His fingers tensed around yours, the tightness of his grip reflected in the grimace that flashed across his face as he bent his head to seal his lips around the wound.

·       You had expected to feel him pulling the blood from you, but he simply let it flow into his mouth, the coppery taste heavy on his tongue. He exhaled through his nose, long and low—a pleased sound. Something about that set you more at ease. He hadn’t recoiled or wrinkled his nose at the taste of your blood. You hadn’t even realized you were worried about how you tasted until that moment.

·       You had started to feel dizzy beneath him—dizzy not from a loss of blood, but the wet heat of his mouth against your skin. Your heart had stuttered in your chest as his tongue probed gently around the edges of the wound, soothing your sparking nerves, even as the blood continued to drip down his throat.

·       When at last, he pulled away, his face was flushed, and his breath came hard; his chest heaving as though he’d just run a great distance. Immediately, his hand shot to his front pocket, fingers searching for the roll of gauze bandages he’s swiped from Cuda’s first-aid kit.

·       He’d wrapped the clean white fabric around your hand with such care it made your heart ache almost as much as the wound itself. When he was finished, he’d flipped your hand over and pressed a gentle kiss against your knuckles. Then, he spoke. His voice was small, barely more than a ragged whisper, “Thank you.”

·       “Was that…was it okay?” Your skin felt feverish, as though the heat of his mouth had seeped into your flesh and was burning you from the inside out. And the dizzy feeling had only grown worse, forcing you to squeeze your eyes shut for a long moment.

·       Martin was still struggling to get his breathing under control, “Yes. I-It was good…better than good, actually. But…”

·       “But?” Had you done something wrong? Had you tasted bad after all? You cracked open one eye, then the other. The spinning had mostly subsided, but you still felt unsteady. “What can I do better next time?”

·       He’d gone stiff all over then, and his reply had come sudden and sharp, “No!” He cringed, the force behind his words clearly surprising himself as well. When he spoke again, his voice was softer, “No ‘next time.’ I…I can’t stand hurting you like that. I won’t do it again.”

·       You’d gazed up at him, blinking in confusion for a second. Then you realized what he’d meant—you had flinched when he’d cut you. Oh.

·       You reached up, cupping his cheek, “Oh, Martin. You didn’t hurt me. Not really.” It wasn’t strictly true—it had hurt a little, but you had been prepared for it to. You brushed a stray droplet of blood from the corner of his mouth with a careful swipe of your thumb.

·       “Yes, I did. I saw it.” You had tried to protest further, but he’d cut you off, much to your surprise. Martin almost never talked back like this, though perhaps you’d simply never given him a reason before. “I saw you flinch. I won’t put you through this again.”

·       And he hadn’t. Though you’d brought the idea up more than once, he had dismissed it each time with the same stubborn shake of his head. If Martin was anything, he was true to his word.

·       “…and it’s been such a long time since we heard from the guy.”

·       The DJ hums in agreement, “It has indeed, my friend. Maybe we’ll hear from him later tonight. If you’re out there listening, Count, don’t be a stranger! Give us a call,” He begins rattling off the stations toll-free number. “We’re all dying to hear from you again!”

·       You feel Martin stiffen up against you. You knew about the interviews he had done; you’d even heard one of them, back when Martin was little more to you than a silent, sullen face behind the counter at Cuda’s shop. And even when he’d started talking to you, he sounded different over the radio—his voice was deeper, and he sounded so confidant, so sure of himself when he talked about his ‘sickness.’ He almost never sounded like that in day-to-day life. You weren’t embarrassed to admit you found it attractive.

·       Martin on the other hand, was mortified to know you had heard him. He had known that people were listened to him, obviously, but they were supposed to be strangers. You actually knew him, and he’d talked about sex. Of course, reminding him you’d done a lot more in your time together than simply listen to him talk about sex did little to lessen his horror.

·       Of course, you also knew he’d been doing fewer and fewer interviews now that he had you to talk to and share his life with. But on occasion, when the pleading from the DJ gets too desperate, or he was simply that bored, Martin could be coaxed back onto the other end of the phoneline once again.

·       You glance up at him, but in the darkness, his expression is unreadable, eyes cast down toward the end of the bed, long lashes throwing feathered shadows across his pale cheeks. From the very beginning, he’s been hard to read. As you’ve come to know him better, you’ve needed to get comfortable with the idea of asking when you want to know something you could easily intuit if speaking to anyone else. He’s very good at hiding his thoughts and feelings behind a neutral expression and placid silence, but he would tell you almost anything if you asked him directly; so long as he had the words to explain it to you.

·       Do you want to make a call, Martin?”

·       For a long moment, he’s silent, turning the idea over in his mind a few times. You had never actually been with him when he’d done an interview in the past. He’d usually wait until you were three days deep in an assignment with no quick end in sight, or out of town with family. Maybe he would be too embarrassed to do it with you here or maybe he’s just not in the mood tonight. But, after a minute, he tilts his head down toward you and says, “Why not?”

·       The radio crackles out a jaunty tune—a commercial for some small business or another. “I’ll call in a few minutes. He doesn’t seem busy tonight.” Martin sits up, bracing his back against the headboard of your bed, and dislodging you from your perch. You grumble a little, irritated by the loss of your comfy spot, but you crawl into his lap anyway.

·       You press soft kisses into his skin, beginning at his hairline, and trailing down over his forehead, the bridge of his nose, his cheeks—the right then the left—the very tip of his nose, and finally his lips. He smiles against your mouth, leaning into the kiss with his whole body.

·       When you pull away only a moment later, you can practically hear the pouty turn of his mouth. He whines softly, but you pay him no mind, trailing kisses down his chin. “Are you nervous, Martin?” The question comes out muffled by the soft curve of his jaw.

·       “Not really, no…” He trails off, eyes cast to the ceiling, “I like the attention, I s’pose.”

·       You pull back to look at him, barely stifling a snort of amusement, “Don’t I give you enough?”

·       His eyes slide from the ceiling, falling upon you dark and wide. For a moment, you think he’s taken you seriously, but the pouty turn of his mouth breaks into a blinding grin, “You give me lots, sure, but I’m a creature of the night, remember? We always want more.”

·       The two of you sit there for a moment, gazing into each other’s eyes, the silence stretching on into the night. Then, you collapse into each other in a fit of giggles. Martin buries his head into the crook of your neck, shaking with quiet laughter. Sure, when he’d said wasn’t untrue, but when he put it like that, it was hard not to laugh.

·       “Welcome back, everybody. It’s almost the top of the hour at 01:57! I’m your host Barry…”

·       You hadn’t even heard the ads end! Martin scrambles for the chunky landline phone that rests on the beside table, nimble fingers punching in the numbers at speed. Though his calls had become less and less frequent, he evidently kept the number somewhere in his memory.

·       Martin’s voice is hushed as he speaks to whoever manned the phones down at the radio station, muttering something about ‘the Count.’ As he speaks, he winds the coiled phone cord around a delicate finger. It’s a simple, distracted habit of Martin’s but it makes your heart flutter whenever you catch him doing it.

·       You stretch your arm as far as you can, reaching for the radio, unwilling to give up your perch in Martin’s lap for even a second. Your fingertips brush the cool metal—once, twice—then you manage to curl your fingers around it. Pulling it into your lap you turn the volume down low so only you can hear it.

·       “I’m just getting word that we have a special guest on the line,” the DJ sounds positively elated, “Folks, it looks like the Count is back in town. Hello, Count! Where have ya’ been?”

·       Martin hesitates for a moment, his jaw working as he searches for the words, “Around.”

·       There is a definite lag between the words in his mouth, and those same words coming through the radio. The dissonance confounds your ears and makes your head ache in a dizzy sort of way, but you want to hear both halves of this conversation, not just Martin’s.

·       “So, what trouble have you been getting into since we last spoke, Count? Murdered any pretty ladies recently?”

·       There’s a smile in Martin’s voice, “Not ladies, no.”

·       “Oh really? Any men then?”

Martin glances down at you, though he makes a non-committal noise. The DJ takes a breath, as though he’s going to say something, but Martin cuts him off, “I wouldn’t call what I do murder, anyhow.”

·       “No? But you still need to drink blood, right?”

·       “Oh, yes.”

·       “How have you been getting your food, then? Don’t vampires uh…kill with every strike?”

·       Martin laughs, a soft, breathy sound that sends a shudder through you. “I’ve been managing.” His tone is damn near conversational. You gaze down at him, marvelling at how easy this seems to be for him. The Martin you’ve come to know and love rarely (if ever) speaks to strangers, and when he has no other choice, he’s never this talkative. It’s strange, but by no means an unwelcome change. You nuzzle against him, letting his voice thrum through your skull as it vibrates around in his chest.

·       “Enough talk of blood and guts, Count. What about your other problems, huh? Tell me, are the streets of Braddock safe at last from the real terror stalking them? Have you…” He pauses conspiratorially, “Found yourself a girl yet?”

·       Those words drive an icy spike of hurt deep into your guts. No, he had not found himself a girl. Martin must have felt your jaw clenching, as his free hand begins to card through your hair—soothing and soft.

·       “I’ve found…someone.” The implications of that word settles you almost as much as his touch. ‘Someone.’ Not a woman, but someone of significance, nonetheless. He bends down to press a quick kiss into the crown of your head. “Someone special.”

·       The DJ gasps, sounding scandalized. “Someone special! Well, I never. Good for you, Count.” You can’t say you’re a fan of the man’s tone—pleasant enough, but with a sharp edge that borders on condescending. But there’s little you can do but grit your teeth and bear it. “How long until you suck this one dry and move on?”

·       Wow. Fuck this guy. On some level, you’d known he was an asshole—sure you felt bad for him when people were rude, but he could dish it out just as well as he could take it. Every once in a while, he’d push a caller too hard or make a snide comment the conversation could have done without. You didn’t like hearing it when strangers were involved, and now that you were the subject of such a comment, you like it even less. He makes it sound like you’re some random conquest, or worse, little more than a meal to Martin. How wrong he was.

·       Suck this one dry and move on? Fat chance, Buddy. Though, his wording did give you an idea…maybe you could make this night just a little more interesting for the both of you.

You sit back, uncurling your legs and dropping your knees to either side of Martin’s hips, straddling his lap properly. Settling your weight back into his lap, you pull a face, pointing to the radio in your lap and mouthing, ‘What a jaggoff!’

·       Martin’s lips press into a thin line as he tries to stifle his laughter. He nods sympathetically but doesn’t say anything about it to the DJ. He’s slow to anger, preferring to divert the conversation rather than cause a scene. You can’t help but admire him for that. You lean forward, stamping a kiss against his collarbone.

·       “I…uh…try not to eat the things I love.”

·       “Ooooh, so it’s love, huh?”

·       You roll your eyes at the DJ, though you can’t deny hearing Martin say he loves you sends a little thrill through you—it was the same thrill you’d felt the first time he had said it to you, and the same thrill you hoped to feel for years to come. You trail little, open-mouthed kisses up the column of Martin’s throat, your mouth feverishly warm against his skin. A shudder jolts through him like an electric shock as your teeth scape across his Adam’s apple. You grin against his flesh, sliding up to nip along the underside of his jaw. There is a sensitive spot at the very corner that you love to exploit, and now seems like the perfect opportunity to do so.

·       Your teeth graze over the spot and his body jitters beneath you. His voice catches in his throat, though if the DJ notices, he doesn’t comment. You nip gently at the spot, reddening the pale skin as you worry it with your teeth. You long to suck a bruise there—the purple-blue hue would doubtless look stunning against the pallor of his skin, but you knew Cuda would have a conniption if he saw it, and you didn’t want to put Martin through that again. Not after last time. The pair of you had agreed that perhaps in future, it would be better if any hickeys you left remained under your clothes.

·       Pressing one final kiss against that spot, you pull back to look at him. You can tell he’s getting flustered—there’s a flush beginning to creep up his neck from beneath the collar of his t-shirt, deep pink and blotchy. You know, given time, it will reach his cheeks, the colour blooming high on his cheekbones. When you get him worked up enough, you could make Martin blush to the very tips of his ears. It was adorable.

·       Your fingers dig into the fabric of his shirt as you drag your nails down his chest. His teeth catch his lower lip. You can almost hear the whine trapped behind those pearly teeth.

·       “Why don’t you tell us a little about this special someone, Count?”

·       Martin hesitates, “I don’t know about that.”

·       “Nonsense! You can tell your good ol’ pal Barry. Who am I gonna tell?”

·       Martin isn’t that stupid. He knows Barry doesn’t need to tell anyone anything—he’s live on air, he’d be telling them himself. His eyes flick down to yours, searching for something, be it permission or resistance. He pulls the phone away from his ear, resting it against his shoulder as he waits for you to make up your mind. You know he’d hang up in an instant if you asked him to—he’d likely do you one better and never call in again if the DJ was just going to ask questions about you all night long. But you trusted Martin not to give too much information away—he’d managed to stay hidden all this time, after all.

·       You nodded at him, smiling and thumbing gently over a nipple. Though your touch is light, and the sensation is dampened by the fabric of his shirt, Martin makes a sound as though he’s been punched in the stomach. He shifts beneath you, tucking the phone underneath his chin as he moves.

·       You grip the striped fabric of his shirt, working it in your hands. You lift it a little, fingers slipping just beneath it to splay against the flat plane of his stomach. His skin is warm and soft beneath your hands. You look down at him, arching a brow and asking for permission with only your eyes.

·       “Fine.” He says, and though the word is an answer for the DJ’s pleading, he’s talking to you, looking directly into your eyes—granting the permission you were so hoping for.

·       “Great! So, how long have you been together?”

·       You fall into him, hands pushing the soft cotton of his shirt up over his chest. Your lips are on his skin in a matter of seconds, trailing kisses across every inch of exposed skin—stomach, ribs, hips, and everything in between.

·       “It’s been ahh—” His words are cut short by a tight little moan as you bite down hard just below his left nipple. However, he manages a solid recovery as your tongue laves over the spot soothing the sting, playing the whole thing off as though he had needed time to stop and think about it, “—bout a year, maybe a little longer.”

·       Clever boy.

·       You drag your tongue a little higher, flicking over the sensitive skin of his nipple. He arches into your touch, hips canting up against yours, threatening to buck you from your perch. He tilts his head, trapping the phone between his cheek and his shoulder, reaching for you with both hands.

·       He takes your cheeks into his hands, pulling your head away from his chest. You grin up at him, taking in his expression—his pupils blown so wide with want they swallow all but the slimmest ring of brown iris, his lips parted and shining in the semi-darkness, flushed to the tips of his ears.

·       You surge up to kiss him, remembering only at the last moment, he needs to keep his mouth free to carry on the conversation. With a huff, you divert your course, and fix your lips back against the skin of Martin’s neck.

·       He swallows hard as you press your lips back against his pulse, pushing his hips back up into yours. You can’t keep the grin form your face as you feel him pressing up against you—the outline in his pants far more noticeable now.

·       His hands tremble slightly as they search for yours, dragging them down to the front of his jeans. You grin widens as you press down. Even through the thick denim, you can feel his cock throb under your palm. Someone’s excited.

·       You look down at him and he turns his head away, flushing a shade darker. He was so easy to wind up like this, it was almost unbelievable. A few kisses here, and gentle touch there, and he was a blushing, whining mess spread out on your sheets for you to enjoy however your pleased. You had chalked the over-sensitivity up to a lack of experience, and had expected it to fade after a few months, but it hadn’t. He was just that reactive, not that you were complaining.

·       With deft fingers, you pop the button of his jeans, quietly dragging the zipper down. He lifts his hips, wriggling helpfully as you drag his pants and underwear down over his thighs.

·       His cock bobs free, flushed and leaking already. You ghost the pads of your fingers over the soft skin of his shaft, and he shudders, his whole body tensing. His knuckles are white where he grips the phone, and his jaw is tight with the struggle of keeping quiet.

·       You wrap your hand around him, stroking gently from base to tip. His back arches off from the headboard, and he falls forward, burying his head in the crook of your neck. The phone receiver bumps against your collarbone, hard and hollow. The plastic is pleasantly cool against your feverish skin.

·       “Is it different being with a…uh…forgive the expression, normal person?”

·       “They’re a…” His laugh is breathy, almost a moan as he glances down at you, “a real handful.”

·       You barely stifle a laugh. You glare down at him in mock disapproval, and he sticks his tongue out at you. Cheeky little bastard. Though the colour still sits high on his cheeks, and his breathing comes through parted lips in short puffs, he seems to have adjusted well to your pace.

·       “Nothing you can’t handle though, I’m sure. Do they know about your…condition, shall we say?”

·       “They are aware, yes.”

·       The DJ laughs, “And how did that go? Can’t be an easy thing to hear—that your boyfriend might vamp out and eat you whole!”

·       Martin sighs, “I already told you, I don’t eat people…” His voice is much steadier now, even as your fingers brush along the sensitive spots on the underside of his cock. That means its time to switch things up. You can’t have him getting too comfortable. Where would the fun be in that? You tighten your grip—something that usually makes Martin thrash against the sheets and sob into your pillows—and begin to swipe your thumb gently over the tip of his cock with every upward stroke. He almost drops the phone as he yanks it away from his mouth. He covers the receiver with a shaking hand just in time, as a soft whine slips through his teeth, “Oh, fuck…”

·       You press a finger up against your lips, reminding him to be quiet. He presses up into your fist, his hips stuttering as your thumb traces a lazy circle around his head. His free hand flutters nervously about his mouth, as he tries desperately to keep quiet. His breath comes sharp and quick though his nose as he struggles to keep control. You shift your weight, pinning his hips back down with your thighs, and though he tries to buck back up against you, you hold him firmly in place. He whines high in his throat, shooting a pleading look up at you, but you just shake your head and point at the phone, ‘Keep going.’

·       Slowly, Martin brings the receiver back up to his ear. His tongue flickers out over his lips and he lets out a shaky breath, “S-Sorry, I didn’t catch that?”

·       “I said, ‘let’s circle back to what you said before,’ about not eating what you love. Why not? If you don’t need to kill to feed, why not feed on this special someone? Surely if they love you back, they’d be willing.”

·       You slow your hand, wanting to give Martin a fighting chance at answering. You were momentarily intrigued by the DJ’s line of questioning. You knew why Martin didn’t want to feed on you, but you were curious as to what sort of excuse he would give.

·       “W-Well…it’s come up mo-ore than once but…” Martin goes silent as you squeeze down on him, his posture going rigid, his head thrown back against the headboard.

·       The DJ lets the silence hang for a moment, but when Martin doesn’t finish his thought, he cuts in, “But…? You still there, Count?”

·       You let up, and Martin takes a big gulp of air, as though he had only just remembered he needed to breathe. “Y-Yeah, I’m here. It’s…it’s complicated.”

·       “Oh yeah? How?”

·       “Well, it’s not about whether they’ll let me or not…” He takes a shaky breath, his eyes fluttering closed for a moment as he steadies himself. When he speaks again, his voice is low, barely more than a whisper, “It’s that I want more.”

·       He tries in vain to buck up into your fist, his hips rolling in shallow, abortive little thrusts. His teeth are sunk into his lower lip, his eyes boring deep into your own.

·       ‘I want more.’ Those words were meant for you.

·       You blink down at him, momentarily dumb founded. Then a grin spreads across your face, sharp and hungry. If he wants more, you’ll give it to him—you’d give it to him until he was begging you to stop.

·       Sliding down his body, you know this is risky. Martin has never been good at keeping quiet, especially not when you’ve got your mouth on him. But the idea is simply too enticing to pass up on. When were you ever going to get the change to suck his cock live on air again? Besides, this might be good practice for him in the art of keeping his voice down—not that you didn’t love to hear him, it just might be nice to keep your…activities a secret from the whole neighbourhood for once.

·       You wriggle down onto your stomach, bringing your face level with Martin’s cock. Settling yourself into a comfortable position between his knees, you bend your head, pressing a gentle kiss against the tip of his cock.

·       He makes an involuntary choking sound in the back of his throat. You look up at him, resting your chin on the tops of his thighs. You want to give him the time he needs to make up his mind. If he tells you ‘no,’ or pushes you away, you’d gladly go back to stroking his cock and kissing his neck. You would get just as much pleasure from the shivers and whimpers you could wring out of him that way.

·       But he doesn’t tell you no, rather he pushes his hips up against you, pressing the tip hard against your lips. You flick your tongue out, ghosting for only a moment over his sensitive flesh, but it’s enough to make his eyes roll back, his long lashes fluttering against his cheeks. You do it again, and his mouth falls open. Though no sound escapes the look on his face is just as glorious.

·       This is going to be fun.

·       You crane your neck, opening your mouth and gently taking the head inside.  Martin’s free hand shoots to his mouth, and he bites down hard on the meat of his palm to stop himself from sobbing out loud. You press your tongue flat against him, dragging it slowly against his hot flesh. He thrashes beneath you, jostling the phone against his cheek.

·       Carefully, you sink further down on him, taking him in inch by inch. He lets out a long sigh around a mouthful of palm.

·       “What was that, Count?”

·       “Oohh…nothing,” Martin grinds out, “Just…closing a window.”

·       The lie was flimsy, but the DJ, despite his skeptical tone, didn’t seem interested in pressed him on it further, “…Right…so how is your control around this person, huh? Do you ever get the urge to just go to town on them?”

·       Martin’s laugh comes out as a low purr, and he bucks into your mouth once, “Mmm, sometimes.” Ever so slowly, as you’ve sunk down onto his cock, he’s been curling in on himself. His head now rests atop your own, and you can feel the heat of his cheek radiating against your scalp. If that heat is anything to go by, he must be positively scarlet.

·       “And what does that entail for you exactly?”

·       With a little jolt, his cock brushes up against the back of your throat. You swallow down a little choking noise, breathing steadily through your nose in an attempt to calm your gag reflex.

·       The warmth of Martin’s cheeks is suddenly gone as he straightens up again. His head hits the headboard with a thump. “I-I just wanna…” He swallows thickly, his breath coming hard, “Push into…p-push my teeth into their throat and just,” He bucks up into your throat, either unable, or simply unwilling to stay still any longer, “just take what I want.”

·       “Their…blood?”

·       You swallow around Martin and his back arches so far he practically lifts off the bed “Yes! Yes, everything they have to give!”

·       “Right…for a moment there it sounded a bit more, uh, sexually motivated than that.”

·       Again, your throat contracts around him, and a hiss of air escapes through his teeth, “No difference really…”

·       The DJ is silent for a moment, “Now that’s an interesting tidbit about you, Count. I’m sure all the ladies out there would love to hear more about that.”

·       Marin fucks up into your throat again with a soft groan, “I’m…I’m sure they would but,” His breath is coming harder now, “unfortunately, I’m taken.”

·       The DJ laughs, “Hear that, Count? That’s the sound of hundreds of hearts all over Braddock breaking. Sorry, folks but it looks like you’re out of luck.”

·       Oh. He’s taken alright. You can just imagine the anguished looks on their faces when you learn he gets taken almost every other night by another man.

·       Though you’d love to keep him in this position, you’re struck by the sudden, possessive urge to have him on his back. You tap his thigh thrice in quick succession and Martin withdraws almost immediately. He’s always so respectful of your wishes, even if he whines a little when his cock slips from the wet heat of your mouth. The sudden chill of the air on his wet cock sends a shiver through him.

·       You scoot back, grabbing Martin by the calves, and pulling him down into a more horizontal position. He fumbles with the phone, as it slips from his grasp, landing on the bed near his shoulder.

·       “What’s going on, Count?”

·       “S-Sorry, I just…I just dropped the phone is all. I’m…I’m feeling awful shaky these days.”

·       “Oh, yeah? How long has it been?”

·       Martin’s tone is distracted, “Ages.” He is far more focused on you, his dark eyes trained on yours as you loom over him.

·       The DJ asks another question, but you’re not listening as you slip Martin’s slick cock into your mouth, wasting no time in taking him back into your throat where he belongs.

·       Though you can’t make out his words so well over the rushing in your ears, Martin’s voice sounds strained, slightly higher than usual. He’s fighting the pleasure hard.

·       His free hand fists itself in your hair, pushing you down tighter against his cock. You swallow hard, trying desperately not to gag as he rolls is hips into your mouth. He’s come such a long way since the first time you asked him to fuck your mouth. He’d been so nervous that you did most of the work, bobbing your head faster and faster until he’d spilled deep into your mouth. He had apologized for almost an hour after, thinking the rasp in your voice was all his fault. Now? He’s practically asphyxiating you, and you hadn’t needed to say a word.

·       Martin is shaking—his thighs tremble on either side of your head, and the phone in his hands nearly slips from his grasp again with the force of the tremors passing through him.

·       You hollow your cheeks and he’s forced to cover the receiver again as a series of whimpers tear free from his lips. You press your tongue flat against the underside of his cock, and he sobs, his hips canting up off the bed.

·       “I-I’m close,” His frantic whisper comes tight through his teeth, an edge bordering on panic creeping into his voice. You grip his thigh and redouble your efforts, gaining a high whine in return.

·       “Hey, Count? Count there’s a lot of interference on your end…I can’t really hear you. I think this is where this conversation has to end, but call back another night, huh?” Martin doesn’t even respond, he simply slams the receiver back into the cradle, ending the call.

·       Almost as soon as the call has disconnected, he’s a whimpering mess. “Oh, fuck! Your mouth…I-I can’t! Is it okay? Is it okay if I…?”

·       He can’t bring himself to say it, but you know what he means and hum a soft affirmation around his cock. He cries out as the sound vibrates around his over-sensitive flesh.

·       With a whimper, he fucks up into your mouth, once, twice, then he shudders, his whole body going rigid as he cums. His knees clamp around your ears, squeezing your head as he shakes with the pleasure. His fingers pull at your hair, any tighter and you’re sure he’ll pull some out. But you press on, hollowing your cheeks, letting him ride the high for as long as he can.

·       The sound he makes as you swallow around him is nothing short of wrecked. His fingers claw the sheets as though he’s trying to drag himself away from you, from your mouth, but his body remains locked in place beneath you.

·       His cock twitches against your tongue as you slowly pull back, the wet drag of your tongue digging raw little whimpers from his throat, and a shudder passed through him when you pull of and his cock is again exposed to the chilly air of the room. His hips press forward, seeking the tight heat of your throat again. It would seem almost desperate if the motion wasn’t so sluggish, almost sleepy.  

·       He reaches for you then in the dark. His hands, hot and sweaty from exertion and gripping both the phone and the sheets for so long, grasp either side of your face as he pulls you up for a kiss.

·       The salty taste of his cum still coats your tongue, but he doesn’t seem to care as he presses his lips against yours with a desperation you rarely see in him.

·       Pulling back, you whisper against his lips, “Was that enough attention?”

·       He smiles, “For me? Yes.” He presses another soft kiss against your lips. “But now it’s your turn.”

[sillyfudgemonkeys]

Late to the slapping discourse but I think another thing is, well, p much everybody, be they makoto fans or haters, despise that confidant, especially due to eiko hogging up so much screentime, so seeing makoto slap her was likely pretty cathartic

sfdjkhla I get where ya coming from anon, but sorry you just reignited this fury inside me again I’mma just rant (not at you, just at the void that is tumblr, I’m just mad and I have more to say about this topic apparently laskfdj;af Just know you didn’t do anything wrong, but your ask did make me think of something new so yay!). Tho tbh, I’ve seen other Mako haters hate that she slaps Eiko for my similar reasons (aka Mako is a pretty bad person who gets away with some bad shit because she’s an main character and we need to be “on her side”). But I don’t think that slap should’ve been viewed as cathartic (tho I get WHY people do), or the fact that it is showcases a big (writing) problem.

(also sorry this is all over the place, I’m writing it very quickly, while quickly reviewing her CoOp, before I go to bed)

Y’all know I hate Makoto, and I think her CoOp is hot garbage, but I don’t actually blame Eiko for it tbh (I mean Ryuji/Anne’s are just fine with juggling other chars, despite having their own issues.....not so much are because of said side chars, it’s other things but again the side chars are juggled just fine with Anne/Ryu). I don’t really hate the char, I think she’s fine. She’s a pretty friendly person, maybe a tad airheadish but she’s not mean (at least she doesn’t say mean things without a reason). Hell I think she does her role pretty fine, it’s Makoto who fails to overcome flaws (mostly her hotheadedness and applying these new view points she’s learned). 

If the writers intended Makoto’s slap to be cathartic no offense but fuck those writers yo. Because it showcases Makoto really is unable to understand any other person’s mindset (at least in practice), does her own selfish shit, and gets rewarded even tho she hurt someone or failed to actually do the bare min to make up for shit she’s done (like the Kamo arc, sorry but you had her say it yourself writers “it’s not that I couldn’t do anything, it’s that I just didn’t care enough” your whole “adults make me do things I don’t want to/they are mean :(” bs doesn’t mesh well, you don’t actually resolve or address the flaw of that char, you just shoved responsibility onto someone else....with that something else isn’t really explored/expanded upon either). Basically, if that slap was cathartic, I think the writers failed....I mean they already did fail with them actually writing that slap in, but they failed at their theme/moral to boot.

So when I have Makoto, who’s CoOp literally starts out with her wanting to learn new perspectives (and you know, maybe kinda learning a little EMPATHY) it’s hard to argue she learned that shit when she literally is unable to do just that and slaps someone. As well as reinforce the fact SHE SHOULDN’T BE IN THE POSITION SHE IS IN (aka our planner/advisor/whatever). 1) It shows she can’t control her emotions (and if we’re gonna give Ryu shit, she def deserves it too), 2) she can’t come up with a gd plan to save her life (the best plan the PT came up with was the first dungeon in PQ2 and guess what? She wasn’t a part of it, gee I’d be shocked but....I’m not). 

It just showcases the poor writing ability of that writer. Makoto’s CoOp is about her learning new things about society and her peers she’s failing at, and ability to connect/understand the people around her....and at that freaking climax it just shows.....she didn’t learn shit. She’s been saying she did all CoOp, even basically says she understands why Eiko is acting that way, but what does she do with that info? Does’t apply it when confronting her and just reverts to bullheaded Makoto mode. It doesn’t matter what happens after, we don’t see her reconcile with Eiko, all that is off screen. In the climatic moment, she fails to accomplish the goal of what her CoOp set out to do....and she’s rewarded for it. She doesn’t realize why Eiko is upset, she doesn’t try to think of a backup plan in case her first one fails, she acts only on her own emotions in the moment. And no “her friend is in danger of prostitution so it’s now or never” is NOT a good excuse, you wanna know WHY? The freaking, change of heart part of the ENTIRE GD GAME! Any argument of “we can’t always use hear changes” goes out the gd window with like 90% of any problems we encounter when we can just go to the Metaverse (to even just interrogate tbh!). The only reason Anne/Yoshida work is because Anne’s we don’t know till the literal last second and by then it’s resolved itself, and Yoshida is dead set on fixing it himself! Makoto’s CoOp? No, that guy should be bumped from “shady boyfriend” to “yeah this guy is now on our request lists holy shit does he fit our MO”

But back to Eiko, yeah it’s great Makoto is expanding her horizons, so glad she knows what a cardigan is~! Too bad, despite actually knowing her friend’s circumstance and possibly why she’s acting that way, Makoto doesn’t approach it with the level of tact that is freaking needed. Showcasing she’s learnt nothing, nothing from her past mistakes, not from “these new viewpoints I’ve learnt,” nothing from knowing WHY her friend might be feeling this way. She literally just does what she’s been doing. She just has the smoke and mirrors benefit of saying “well I learnt a new viewpoint” but your actions speak louder than your words. You didn’t learn shit. 

Wait....no I’m not giving Makoto enough credit, haha, you see she did learn something, at the beginning of the CoOp, and that’s actually not ignoring something shady going on. Unlike with the Kamo arc. My bad, so instead of seeing her bull her way through feeling “forced” to do something, we see her bulling her way through “caring” this time. But here’s the thing, that wasn’t her arc for this CoOp, her understanding other viewpoints was. She failed. Somehow she freaking failed. It’s a talent Makoto! It’s a real talent you have there!

You know why I think Makoto/Eiko thing pisses me off so much? I have a friend that reminds me a lot of Eiko. She’s nice, def a girly gal type person, as well as other things. She had just begun dating someone I deemed a red flag (not Tsukasa bad like selling yourself or that she was in any kinda danger, but still a “yeah you should know” kinda thing....like...I’d feel bad if I didn’t know about it and I was in her position kinda thing). And you know what I did? Did I take her out into public on a crowded street and yell at her and say you need to break up with him and when she got (pretty rightfully) defensive I then slapped her and got on my high horse and was like “I’m doing this for your own good! YOU  don’t understand MY position, what I’M going through, but you need to know what I’m doing is for the BEST!”? No. That never crossed my freaking mind cause I’m not a psychopath. I instead, took her out for ice cream, sat in a more remote spot for privacy, and reassured her of her emotions and own autonomy and that I cared and that I understand she cares about things and I’m coming from a place of good faith and I wasn’t there to attack her, and then I broke the news to her. You know what she did? She laughed, was happy I was a normal human being with some tact, said she wished another friend of hers did what I did instead of through text. Said she’d take what I said into consideration. She broke up with him a few months later.....cause he was a twat apparently, but our friendship was well in tact and strengthened. And I was barely a year older than Makoto was at the time, AND a super awkward honor student AND my friendship with her was about as new as Mako’s and Eiko’s (AND we were very much opposites like those two hell even more so).

I dunno, it just would’ve been so much more impactful if Makoto, instead of slapping Eiko after she called Mako a “bitch.” Mako stepped forward (making everyone think she’s going to be physical but instead it showcases Makoto thinking rationally for once), looked Eiko in the eye and said “What you think of me is not all that I am. And even if you hate me, know I still think of you as my friend and will be here for you for whatever reason. But I won’t let you throw your life away, not for this scum of a human being. *turns to Tsukasa* Listen to me asshole, I say this not as some honor student, but as Eiko’s friend. You will be delivered justice, and you will apologize to Eiko and all the other girls who’s lives you’ve ruined” to which we either get Tsukasa’s name via asking around (low key Ichiko could probably help), or by getting it from Shadow!Eiko in the metaverse. The next rank we see Eiko and Mako making up, and Mako explains how she’s more than just an honor student (basically the shit she says after she slaps Eiko), and Eiko apologizes for all the mean things she said in the moment and how she felt afraid or whatever other stuff they wanna add to deepen her char or whatever. And we have a theme kept intact, and Eiko even learns about new perspectives (as well as reinforcing this whole moral/theme to the viewer)....but we legit get to see this development for her, and we learn how to do it with compassion and understanding and not ‘slap to be dramatic~!’ bs (because then it comes off as like....using force to change someone’s behavior.....and like????? probably not the best message ESP for P5′s setting). You can dislike Eiko, but the CoOp technically became just as much as her arc as Mako’s and the fact we don’t see the resolution is poor. (btw the “how/when” it would’ve taken place would’ve been rank 9 still, we just wouldn’t rank up till the mementos mission was done, that or restructure the link but the former is easier)

So....yeah....maybe it’s the fact that Makoto’s CoOP belittles how teens can actually resolve these problems. Maybe it’s the fact we’re supposed to root for Mako’s bad behavior. Maybe it’s the fact when it came down to the wire, Mako didn’t utilize the knowledge she has been bragging about getting over the CoOp. Maybe it’s the fact she resorted to violence when there was another avenue to take. Maybe it’s the fact we never see Makoto actually hit a bad guy/aggressor (instead we have to save her from those) but instead only see her hitting her so called friends. Maybe it’s the fact of her showcasing flaws that she shouldn’t have (her hotheadedness and shitty planning skills). Or maybe it’s the fact we root for a “cathartic slap” in favor of doing what this CoOp is supposed to be: teaching Makoto AND the viewer about learning to see someone else’s perspective, and coming up with a plan that we never would’ve thought of to help fix that issue. Sacrificing a big theme/moral of the CoOp for something “dramatic.”

But I don’t know why I should be shocked, this is P5. Contradictions everywhere, in the lore, in the themes, in the writing, in the morals. Just. Everywhere. 

[toziers]

can you explain what's going on right now? i keep seeing big IT blogs talking about some discourse or something but i have no idea what they're talking about other than it involves you lol

alright i like. i truly do not like having diScOurSE out in public because i’m not one to air out my dirty laundry 24/7 but seeing as how it was brought into public against my will i feel like the least i can do is clear up the situation for those who’ve been seeing the posts. 

i’m putting this under the cut bc it’s long. tws for some biphobia, brief mention of transphobia and, at the end, a rape mention. 

so if you don’t know: hi, i’m migz, i’m an it fandom blogger. its okay, i know, its really cool. part of my shtick here is that i like to turn normal thirst tags into works of art for the sake of comedy. perhaps you’ve seen some of my highlights from my “fhg” tag - perhaps your brain has been spared. either way, it became kind of “my thing” around the third or fourth week (mid nov) of me having this blog. at first, i tagged just about every ask i got mentioning the thirst tags with “bill hader” - they had to do with him, so why not tag him? it would draw more like minded people! about two days into that i got a message asking me to tag my nsfw. i am a big dumb idiot, and apologize for not initially doing it. i havent had a following bigger than like 10 in several years and completely spaced on basic etiquette. so by the end of november i was tagging everything applicable  with “notsfw” and “bill hader”. 

now you’re caught up.

on december 1st i got this message from user billhaderanti:

now i want to start by saying i absolutely was in the wrong here. i didn’t even think about how many people were being subjected to the asks i was getting - especially ones who had no idea they were all jokes. i don’t track the bill hader tag, so it just didn’t even occur to me - that’s ignorance on my part, and to anyone who was subjected to the terrors of me before my tagging system: i am genuinely sorry. i relay the same sentiment in my response, though you can tell i’m on edge.

and they replied:

clearly they Were offended by it but thats.. not the point. at this point, im feeling Really weird about the whole interaction, but still understanding, because again - i GET it. i know my posts are gross - that’s the point. it doesn’t make it excusable, though, which is why i understand why people are offended. so i responded with the only solution i Knew would keep us both safe and happy posting on our own blogs. 

so i thought this would be the end of things! i’d been pretty anxious lately already since i’d started to receive anons telling me i was gross and whore-ish for thirst posting in this way (i delete all of those, so if ur thinking about sending one, i guess no one’s stopping you but it won’t be seeing the light of the dashboard). i’m unsure if it was immediately or a few hours later, seeing as how i have a bad concept of time and the post-dates are right on the edge between nov 30 and dec 1, but i went to their blog - because anyone who has been on the internet knows the opportunity to vague post is near irresistible. and...what do ya know

fair! it’s their blog. however i am an emotionally fragile egg girl and immediately got freaked out. the odds that they were the only one who thought this were low. and, again, i’ve been very open on my blog about how important it is to respect boundaries; my posts are absolutely prone to breaking those boundaries people have created for themselves. 

so i made my own, semi-vague post, letting my following know (and i’m pretty sure i’d answered asks about it before, but this is going to be long enough w/o me searching those up too) that i understood if they wanted to block me or unfollow or whatever - people need to create their own safe spaces. the tension is pretty clear in the tags, i’m not trying to hide that. i felt that the way this woman slid into my dm’s was pretty abrasive (just my opinion/how it made me personally feel) and i let myself be a lil emotional about it in the tags of my post.

alright! maybe this is the end. maybe we both go our separate ways and post happily on our own blogs... except it’s not the end. later in the day (some of this was happening like 1/2am, so now its Day day, i believe - again, not good w time passage lol)

clearly, i’m upset. my groupchat double checked that i didn’t get too emotional in my response - did i mention im anxious about discourse lol - and apparently.. it did the trick. she didn’t message me again. great. it was over. 

at this point, i decided i needed to make an even bigger change. so a few days after i’d calmed down i created an entirely new tag for my thirst posts so if people hadn’t already hidden the notsfw posts or just blocked me outright, they’d have a third option to escape the madness. at this point, id had my blog about 6? weeks, but there were still 2k posts for me to sift through - some of them were completely untagged. i also had to do it post by post, because one of xkits features - the mass re-tagger - was getting blogs deleted for some reason, and i wasn’t going to do that. so i spent a few days going through all 2k+ posts, adding the “fhg” tag. 

YEEHAW! a brand new tagging system, no more hopping into the bill hader tag (minus one or two really funny, not super explicit asks, like the bill hader farquaad meme), and, tbf, i’d completely put this woman out of my mind. i don’t seek out drama and do my best to stay in my lane. yesterday, i checked my activity for the first time in awhile since id put out a couple new original posts that had started to get traction and i Love reading tags. i noticed a mutual had @’d me, and realized i havent checked my @’s in...ever, maybe. i see a post from my good pal billhaderanti. 

since i dont follow them and never check my @’s, i’d completely missed it. however, once i did see it, i was horrified. id gone through all that fucking work to keep my blog My Blog and also respect everyone’s boundaries and it still hadn’t been enough. i’d been awake for almost 24 hours and went. a little crazy. and i didn’t reply immediately because i just had no words. i sent it to my friends because i... i just wasn’t going to be able to figure it out myself. 

there’s a lot to unpack in this post alone, but whatever, i’m gonna put my own grievances with the immaturity of 1. making a callout post to begin with when i’d been nothing but civil 2. making a callout post about something as (in the grand scheme of Life) minor as some tags where i refer to a someone’s genitals as a “whack pack” and 3. making a callout post in such a rude way - aside. at the end, she calls me (and whoever else!) a demonic mlw (man loving woman, we assumed, and then later confirmed with a post further back on her blog). 

which - yeah, we started scrolling. at first we were looking for more vague blogs, and then we just...started finding things. billhaderanti is a self proclaimed lesbian separatist, which... fine. but it’s already pretty clear that this woman hates me on some level simply because i am a bi woman (demonic mlw, remember!) which is just. damn man i can’t believe we are still fighting the biphobic fight lol. so the more we scrolled, the more we uncovered - and not just the biphobic / vaguely mtf transphobic things they posted (or put in tags), but we also found that they had their OWN thirst tags. certainly not as hyperbolically comedic as mine, but they were there, talking about his body and his person the same (and, frankly, a bit creepier for other reasons) as mine. 

there’s one post in particular that snatched my wig in it’s creepiness - and i say creepiness in the sense that it feels personal. like this woman feels like she knows bill to some degree where she can say these things. my tags have always had a sense of distance, as they’re written for humor. and maybe this particular post was written for comedic purposes, but it doesn’t read that way, and if it WAS, then she has no right to call ME out for MY comic tags and posts. 

i’ll let it speak for itself, mostly because i don’t want to read it again. 

i also won’t be going through her blog again to find the posts with biphobic and other Interesting:tm: tags because there are plenty and i just really! want to be done with the whole ordeal! her blog is public and i’m sure you can all find it and look to your heart’s content. 

feeling a bit feral and a bit pissed off now that we knew the depth of how rotten this woman’s vibes were, a couple of my pals made a post or two similar to what my tag’s are like except turned up to eleven (if possible) - and tagged them with “bill hader” (and notsfw!!). yes, a bit childish, but at this point, the entire situation was childish, and making jokes was truly the only way we were going to get through it. another vague post went up on her blog soon after.

talking down to us, calling us children, and then for whatever reason calling us virgins... whatever, weird post. around this time most of us (est) went to bed, because it was nearing 3 or 4 in the morning. 

and then today happened. i woke up fresh and ready for the day after a wonderful 4 hours of sleep and found that jane had made an incredibly intelligent post in response to the situation. i won’t ss it, but i’ll LINK in case you missed it. attached there in the reblog is my own response. i think they can speak for themselves. 

after that, things were kind of jumbled, since i wasn’t online a lot and when i was i was Not checking my activity simply because i was afraid of what i’d see. for the most part, it ended up just being support (which i am very grateful to all of you for - it means a lot that you all enjoy my content to any degree). 

there was some more vague posting from both “““““sides”””””” of the “““““argument”””””” - mostly just people restating the fact that this is a public space and we should All be aware of how we effect others. i still hadn’t heard directly from billhaderanti, so i assumed we’d all be dropping and disengaging and moving on. i still wasn’t blocked, though, so who really knew what would happen. 

eventually, it culminated in this last post. tw for mentions of rape

i’m going to start by saying that 

1. there are nearly no teenagers that were involved in this. im turning 23 in january and most of my friends are 20+. maybe one or two are 19. 

2. none of us sent any sexually violent asks - most of us didn’t send asks at all. i believe one or two of my friends admitted to sending asks however they assured me their nature wasn’t bad; as far as i know, everyone remained civil in whatever went on (again, unclear to me as to what was being sent; no one was actively posting or talking about it. if billhaderanti wishes to elaborate, they can, but i don’t have anything to put in). 

3. before i finish this, i would like to apologize to billhaderanti. as a comedian - not just my stupid tags, i mean in real life, too - i know that humor can hurt. it’s not always funny, it’s not just stupid hahas. sometimes things that are supposed to be jokes just hit people differently and cause bad things. i recognize that. i never meant to trigger you (if you’re reading this) or cause you any severe mental/emotional harm. i apologize for my humor bringing up your trauma, and i never meant for that. regardless of my own thoughts and opinions about the nature of my posts/the thirst tags themselves, they hurt you, and i’m sorry. 

anyway, i’m going to wrap this up (i’m bad at endings, what can i say! steven king and i took the same writer’s class!). if you read all this... sorry. i probably won’t be taking any asks about it, because i find the whole “drama” of this to be stupid and rooted in some seriously biphobic issues this fully grown woman has. 

tldr; i attempted to contain my blog so this woman could exist and function safely on her blog, but it wasn’t enough for her, so she called me out, and then some of the fandom called Her out for being biphobic and mean and overall just immature about the situation. as of now, she’s yet to block me, though her and her wife have blocked a few of my friends. her wife continues to clown on my friends. this post was made for clarity’s sake. the end, i’m getting a drink. 

[ebelwrites]

could you write the soulmates fic where both make a mistake? and then them fixing it?

Look who’s finally back to writing! Sorry for the big gap. You know how you try to write something and it’s just not coming but you keep trying to force yourself to write it anyway? That’s what I was doing; until I finally decided to give up and write something else, which got finished in two days. So, to the anon who asked ages ago for some Bad Sans Poly, I’m sorry, but that ask has been pushed back yet again. I think the idea I was trying to write was more suited for headcanons, so I’ll try again later with a new idea.

I’ll edit this later to link to the first two stories, I don’t have the time right now, sorry. But I will do it once I get home from work. In the meantime, I hope you guys enjoy this.

{EDIT}Here are the links: Reviving Something Dead and An Old Promise And A New Future

Nightmare’s fist collided with the punching bag hard enough to make his knuckles sting. Without pausing, Nightmare swung his other hand around to hit the bag just as hard. He barely noticed the twinges of pain, his mind lost deep in thought. Last night hadn’t been kind to him; he’d tossed and turned for hours, trapped in memories of more painful times. A time when the glow of his soulmate’s wings meant pain instead of comfort. Every time he closed his eyes to try and get some rest, he’d see Dream’s face looking at him in disgust. The attacks, the tests, the pain; all of it had played over and over to him.

He’d abandoned his attempts at sleep in the early hours of the morning, long before Error or Cross had been awake. He’d downed a few cups of coffee before heading off to find something to take his emotions out on. The castle’s gym was proving to be a very effective recipient to the anger he needed to unleash. The place was deserted; too early for the earliest of risers to be there, yet too late for the insomniacs and late-workers. The solitude suited him just fine.

A brief shout escaped his throat as his mind drifted back to his dreams, his memories, and he kicked the bag in frustration. He quickly moved back as the bag jerked erratically on its chain, before turning away entirely with a disgusted noise. He felt both frustrated and ashamed to be so affected by this; Dream had apologised, he’d been making amends, they’d been working through this, they had been doing great together. So why did some freaking nightmares have to make him feel like there were bugs crawling under his skin?

“Nightmare?” Oh, great, exactly who he didn’t want to see right now. Dream stood in the doorway of the gym, looking rather confused. “What are you doing here?”

“What? Am I not allowed to be here?” Anger burned like a fire inside him, sarcasm heavy in his snap at Dream. He saw the other straighten in response to his tone, his expression only growing more confused. Understandable, since Nightmare had gone from affectionate in their last encounter to snappish and angry now. But his continued presence only fueled Nightmare’s anger.

“Is something wrong, Nightmare?” Dream stepped inside the doorway, and Nightmare felt like someone had taken an electric jumper cable to him. “What is going on?”

“No. Shoo. Go away.” Nightmare couldn’t decide whether he wanted to hide away from Dream in the corner or go marching up to Dream to scream in his face. Rationally, he knew neither would end well, but reason had very little say in his mind right now. “I don’t want to see you today. Leave.” But Dream wasn’t listening to Nightmare’s words right now, it seemed. He stepped closer to Nightmare, and Nightmare could feel himself growing more and more ready for a fight with every step Dream took.

“Did I do something wrong, Nightmare?” Dream’s voice remained soothing and calm, not that it was having much effect on Nightmare at this moment. “I can’t do anything until you tell me what’s wrong.”

“Oh, only everything.” Nightmare spat back. “And, unless you’ve got a time machine stashed away, your chance to make things better has long gone.” Now Dream’s face held more understanding, and his expression saddened.

“Ah, that.” Dream paused before walking closer to Nightmare. “I deeply regret the past, you know I do. And I’m going to spend an eternity making it up to you. But I can’t change it, I can only try to do better. Nightmare, I love you so much. I always have. Can we talk it out, moment to moment? Perhaps it will give you some closure.”

“Love me, huh? Always loved me, huh? Loved me so much, it took almost no time at all to replace me!” He spat the last two words, taking a step towards Dream. He wasn’t going to be scared into a corner.

“What are you-” Dream seemed even more confused and rather worried. Nightmare didn’t even let him finish speaking.

“I know about Ani.” The room fell silent as Dream put the pieces together. Even then, it looked like he still didn’t really understand what Nightmare was talking about. Well, Nightmare wasn’t going to let him guess any longer.

“Sure didn’t take you long to find someone better, did it?” Nightmare could feel tears starting to creep into the corners of his eyes, and he angrily shook them off. “Someone kinder, someone sweeter, someone who had more of a hero worship for you; I’m sure it didn’t take long for you to forget all about me. Not when there was someone more perfect to take my place.”

“Nightmare, that is not true.” Dream sounded more frantic now, and part of Nightmare relished in the fact that Dream was upset. “I never replaced you, and I never forgot about you! Whatever made you think I wanted to replace you?”

“Because you are ashamed of me.” Dream looked like someone had punched him in the gut.

“I am not asham-”

“Yes, you are! You always have been!” Nightmare was screaming now; he wasn’t sure if the tears in his eyes were from anger or from sadness anymore. “Why else would you never have told any of the villagers you were my soulmate? Why else wouldn’t you have told anyone now?”

“Shame was not the reason I never told them, Nightmare!” Now Dream was angry, and the few feet between them felt like inches.

“Says the one who lied about me for decades to the entire multiverse! You’re always happy to twist the truth when it makes you look better! What did you tell Ani when they asked about your soulmate? How quickly did you skip over me to look better to them?”

“Do not bring Ani into this!”

“If you won’t talk about them or admit the truth, then we’re done here!” With that, NIghtmare stalked off towards the exit, only to be stopped by a hand around his wrist.

“Do not walk away-”

“Get your hands off me!” The sound of Nightmare slapping off Dream’s hand echoed loudly in the room, startling both of them. Nightmare looked at their hands, separated by only a few inches of air, Dream’s fingers starting to turn red from his slap, and felt the grief he’d been desperately trying to hold back rise up within him.

“Leave.” Nightmare’s voice was quiet and shaky, but it was the loudest sound in the room. “And don’t come back.” There were a few moments where Dream stood frozen, quiet, before he turned and walked out the door. Once Dream was gone, Nightmare dropped to his knees on the cold floor. He felt grief and sorrow whirl within him, and the sense that he’d just lost something precious to him. And then he cried.

“Go away.” Nightmare mumbled into his pillow, too exhausted and spent to even lift his head at the knocking on his door. His blankets cocooned him and his pillow was wet from tears. He didn’t know how long he’d been hiding in his room. The knocker paused, before opening the door and walking over to the bed. Nightmare groaned and turned his head to glare with one eye at the intruder.

“I told you not to come in.”

“Yeah, you did. But someone needed to talk to you.” Cross seemed entirely unrepentant at the intrusion and sat on the bed next to Nightmare’s feet. “So, Ink told us what happened.” Nightmare let out another groan and turned his face back into the pillow.

“How did he even know?”

“Security cameras.” Nightmare felt Cross’ hand on his ankle. “He saw it, then told me and Error. Wasn’t pretty.” Nightmare made a sad noise and sunk further into his mattress.

“So, what got you all riled up before the fight? I know it wasn’t feather bastard, since you last saw him before you went to bed and you were pretty happy then. But then, even before you met him in the gym, you were spoiling for a fight. What happened?” Nightmare made a pitiful sound into his pillow.

“Bad dream?” Another sad noise, and he heard Cross sigh. The hand on his ankle began rubbing his leg and Nightmare felt himself purr a little at the touch. “So, you had some bad dreams, I’m guessing they were actually bad memories, and you decided the best way to deal with it was to take it out on wingboy.” Nightmare grumbled and turned his face out of the pillow again.

“You make it sound like this was over nothing. I did have some pretty big issues with some things he’s done.”

“Yes, you did. But you didn’t go in there wanting answers and resolutions, you went in there wanting to punch his face in. There’s a big difference in those two approaches.” Nightmare let out another grumble.

“What are you trying to tell me?” There was a long pause, and Nightmare could see the internal struggle on Cross’ face, before he finally spoke again.

“I’m saying… I think you should hear him out.” Nightmare gave him an incredulous look and Cross rolled his eyes a bit in response. “I’m not saying pretend nothing happened and continue on your merry way. But, you would never be content without closure. Arguments happen, and so do misunderstandings. You would never be okay without knowing for sure. Hear out his reasons, and then decide if he was a jerk.”

“If this was a misunderstanding, why hasn’t he come to talk it over?”

“Because you told him to leave, and to not come back. So he did.” Nightmare growled, but he had to admit that Cross had a point.

“Why are you pushing this so hard?”

“Because, I may not like Dream, I may still have my own issues with him, but,” he pauses, looking somewhat disgruntled, “since you got back with him, you’ve been the happiest I’ve ever seen you. I don’t want you to throw that away over a mistake.” Nightmare couldn’t speak; that Cross thought that way, it was rather touching.

“However, if this was him being a prick, I’ll kick his ass for you, okay?” A laugh escaped Nightmare at that and he gave a nod.

“Okay, I’ll go see him.” Cross gave him a grin and a pat.

“Good. But first, you might want to clean your face up. You look like you cried a biblical flood.” Nightmare guffawed and gave Cross a mock punch.

“You jerk!”

Nightmare knocked hesitantly on the door to Dream’s office. He got permission to come in, and he opened the door. But he couldn’t bring himself to go beyond the doorway. He let out a cough and Dream’s eyes snapped over to him. There were bags beneath the other’s eyes and he looked a bit rough. Dream opened his mouth, then closed it again before looking down. Silence hung in the room; Nightmare shuffled his feet before he managed to gather the courage to speak.

“Dream,” the other’s eyes lifted to him again at the sound of his name, “can we talk?”

“Of course, come in.” Dream stood from his chair, seemed to think twice about approaching Nightmare, then sat again. Nightmare sighed, took the chair on the other side of the desk, and brought it next to Dream. They both shuffled in their seats for a moment before realising that it wasn’t going to get any more comfortable.

“So,” Nightmare held Dream’s gaze as he spoke, “we have a lot to talk about. And I am ready to talk about it this time. Properly. I need answers.” Dream gave him a nod in return..

“Whatever you need; I’ll do my best.” Nightmare felt the edges of his lips drift upwards at that, feeling somewhat braver.

“You said that shame wasn’t the reason you didn’t tell people about us; what is the reason?”

“I was never ashamed of being your soulmate, Nightmare. Never.” Dream’s eyes never strayed from Nightmare’s face as he spoke. “I was worried about how they would react if they knew. It might have made them more accepting of you, but more likely-”

“More likely, it would only have made things worse.” Nightmare finished for him. Dream nodded solemnly.

“I was afraid that they would hurt you if they found out.” Nightmare looked down, feeling rather ashamed at the wrong conclusion that he’d first jumped to and then argued as truth. Hearing the actual truth was bittersweet.

“I do have something to admit,” Nightmare looked up again as Dream continued to talk. “Our argument has made me realise that I am now hiding our relationship out of shame; not of you, never of you, but of myself.” He took a breath then continued. “There are many people here who would be, rightfully, furious with me if they found out I was your soulmate. Without thinking about it, I became worried about the backlash of such an announcement, so I kept our relationship hidden. That was wrong of me, and it wasn’t fair to you.”

“If it is alright with you, regardless as to whether we continue on being together after this, I would like to announce that you are my soulmate.” Nightmare thought for a while, taking in everything he’d heard. He turned over everything in his mind, then reached out and rested a hand on top of Dream’s hand.

“I’m okay with you making that announcement. And,” he gave Dream’s hand a small squeeze and gave the other man a small smile, “I would like for us to keep going on together. I don’t want to let something like this break us; I won’t let something like this break us.” Dream blinked, then a smile lit up his face. His other hand came around to cover Nightmare’s.

“I would like for us to continue being together as well. Thank you.” Nightmare gave a nod, his smile growing wider and wider. The corners of his eyes stung once more, but this time, at least, he knew they were happy tears. They sat in comfortable silence, hand in hand, enjoying the moment.

“I am sorry, Nightmare,” Dream said, giving him a glance, “for pushing you to talk when you didn’t want to. And for grabbing you.” Nightmare gave a shake of his head.

“I’m sorry for picking a fight when you were only trying to help. And for taking my bad mood out on you.”

“Nightmare,” his hand was clasped between Dream’s, the weight grounding him to reality, “if you have concerns, or questions that need answers, please let me know. If you ask, I will answer.”

“Okay; if you’ll do the same. I don’t want another fight like before.”

“More communication about things that are bothering us,” Dream’s thumb was rubbing gentle circles into the back of his hand, and Nightmare felt himself becoming more at peace, “rather than staying quiet about them and hoping they’ll go away. I would rather a hundred little discussions and arguments than another big fight.”

“So would I.” Nightmare’s gaze wandered to the window; the sky was a bright blue and there were almost no clouds. It was a beautiful day. “Do you want me to give an interview or something after the reveal? Have me explain that things are cool now between us?” He could see Dream shaking his head out of the corner of his eye.

“No; this, all of this, has been my mistake. I will deal with it on my own. It is what is right.” Nightmare wondered if that should really be how it is, but chose not to disturb the peace for now. He could discuss it further with Dream later and see what agreement they come to. Nightmare leaned back in his chair with a sigh, drawing Dream’s gaze back to him. Nightmare turned to him with a hesitant smile.

“So, as good as all this has been, I do want to talk about another thing.” Dream gave him a nod to go on. “I would like to talk about Ani.” He felt Dream stiffen, then relax. There was a moment where they both prepared themselves for the conversation, then Dream spoke.

“What do you want to know?”

“Did you love them?” Nightmare swallowed the lump in his throat.

“Yes, I did. I still do.” Dream gave his hand a gentle squeeze. “But I was not lying when I said that I always loved you. I love you both so dearly. You were never in competition with each other. My love for one of you did not diminish my love for the other. I felt terrible, guilty, that I still loved you when I was with Ani; and now I feel the same for still loving Ani while I’m with you. I am sorry if this is hard for you to hear. Ani might not have been my soulmate, but they were very special to me; you both are special to me. I don’t think I could give up loving either of you.” There was silence as Nightmare processed all that Dream had told him, and he could see the other growing more and more concerned the longer the silence went on. The hands holding his own began to tremble.

“Tell me about them,” he said, at last, eyes locked to their hands. “What were they like?”

“Compassionate. And generous. Always thinking of others.” A tiny hint of a smile had begun to return to Dream’s face. “They smiled so brightly, even when they were in so much pain. They also reminded me a lot of you. So smart, and quick-witted. They might have been quiet, but they refused to take anyone’s nonsense.” Dream gave a small chuckle, his eyes growing sad. “They would have been… horribly disappointed in me, if they had ever found out about you. I imagine they would have had some rather choice words for me regarding my treatment of you.”

“They sound wonderful,” Nightmare said, wetting his lips. Dream’s eyes closed, joy and sadness mixing together on his face.

“They were. I wish you two could have met. I think they would have liked you, and I think you would have liked them too.”

“…Did you ever confess to them?”

“No. I only knew them for seven months. I fell for them, but I thought I would have time later to say everything. I did not know they were in such bad health.” Nightmare nodded, not that Dream could see it, and thought.

“You love us both, equally?”

“Yes.”

“And loving one does not take away from the other?”

“It does not.” Nightmare took a deep breath.

“Then,” he turned to Dream, closing the distance between them, “then I think I’m okay with them holding a piece of your heart.” He pressed against Dream’s side, leaning into the other’s body. Dream’s arms wrapped loosely around him, the touch warm and comforting. “Will you take me to their grave later? I want to say hello.”

“Of course.” Dream gave him a sweet look full of love. “Thank you, Nightmare, for understanding.”

“Yeah; thanks for being honest.” Nightmare yawned and snuggled further into Dream. “We going to keep going forward together? And do things better this time?”

“Yes; less silence, and more talking. We are going to do this right.” Nightmare gave a happy nod, feeling himself start to fall asleep in his soulmate’s arms. He had his answers, and he had his peace. The world felt right once more, and he was certain there would be no nightmares tonight.

No matter how well people get along, there were always going to be problems, stumbles, pitfalls, and arguments. No one is perfect; therefore no relationship was going to be perfect. But the ones that last, are when the people are always willing to make things right again afterwards.

[isshinene]

I don’t understand why you write for this ship when so many other better ones exist in Food Wars. Like your writing is good and all but no one cares about them. Idk don’t take it the wrong way but more mediocre writers who write Sorina get way more likes and views than you. I’m sure your writing would get more appreciation over there.

Alright then, first of all, I guess I should say thank you for the criticism (and the long freaking ask message). Even though this is not necessarily the thing I want to come home to and read, you have your opinion and that’s fine.

Second of all, I’m not sure if you are the same anon that has been messaging me in the past two weeks, but if you are, the reason I haven’t responded to you is that 1) you are on anonymous and 2) I do not want this kind of negativity on my blog. However, I’m tired of getting messages like this so here you go.

Let’s break down your entire essay to me, huh?:

1. “I don’t understand why you write for this ship when so many other better ones exist in Food Wars.”

This is an opinion. If you don’t like Isshiki x Nene, then that’s fine. No one forced you to read my works or to look at my blog. You are entitled to like what you want, just like I am too. However, I won’t tolerate you trashing other’s ships.

2. “Like your writing is good and all but no one cares about them. Idk don’t take it the wrong way but more mediocre writers who write Sorina get way more likes and views than you. I’m sure your writing would get more appreciation over there.”

Um, thanks? I’m glad you think I write well. But just so you know, starting your rant with this doesn’t make me any less peeved.

I would disagree with your opinion that no one cares about them, because I care about them! Yeah, they aren’t as popular as the other ships but there are a lot of people that make fanfics and artwork of them, not just me. Lastly, I’m not particularly writing because I want views or likes. I just like sharing my works and writing a ship that makes me happy. I know I have some supporters out there that leave me some really nice comments sometimes which is MORE than enough to fill me with fluff. Even if only one person read my fanfics or liked my translations, I would still continue to post.

3. “They are SO BORING AF! like no offense but the way you write Isshiki and Nene are totally ooc. I feel like your twisting their character just to make the ship work and it’s annoying.”

I’m not sure what about a guy who walked around naked in an apron all the time and a girl who is so cold but cute at the same time is boring…  but they make for an interesting dynamic. I do agree with you on some points that I do tend to write Isshiki and Nene out of character, but I’m trying my best. However, I do think that part of that ooc is due to the fact that they get so little manga time (especially Nene). Therefore, when I try to do character writing and exploration, it’s difficult for me really gauge how she is because Tsukuda doesn’t explore her character enough to give proper depth. That’s what fanfic is for, to explore in ways the author can’t!

4. “All of your stories are the guy chasing the girl and it gets repetitive.”

Ah, I’m not sure if you read my ask from a while ago, but I do admit, some of my stories are superficial. Isshiki IS usually the one going after Nene, but to be fair, I have written some where it is reversed. Coming up with more meaningful stories is something I’m trying to improve on and get better at so I hope I can practice and learn to be more diverse with my writing.

5. “It seems like you’re just forcing stories to make this ship more romantic than it actually is. There was literally only like 2 chapters of development between them.”

Again, I would like to remind that fanfiction is MADE UP! TOTALLY NON-CANON! Therefore, of course, I’m going to put romance in a story between a ship! It may seem a bit ooc and jarring because these are characters that come from a shounen battle manga, mind you.

Yes, they don’t have as much development as the other ships, however, I find their story so cute and incredibly moving. Even if it’s totally platonic, you have to admit that they share a bond.

6. “Why don’t you actually have an otp with real chemistry?”

…These are made up, fictional characters bro… chill out. To be fair, you can’t apply the concept of “real chemistry” to a bunch of ink on printed paper.

I’m not upset or anything. I appreciate the criticism you pointed out regarding the weakness of my writing, but I don’t tolerate you putting other people’s ships down. I certainly didn’t respond to your entire ask to argue with you, so I hope we can have a civil discussion. But overall, I just tired of ignoring the same messages over and over again in my inbox.

I hope you have a good day :) and some piece of advice, if you don’t like a ship, don’t click on the link to read in the first place!

[moonraccoon-exe]

Hi, dear moonracoon ! May I ask for your advice ? How do you think an artist can get noticed in the ffxv fandom ? I really wanted to ask you since you're so kind and amazing ! ( >^

HELLO, MY DEAREST BEAUTIFUL ANON!!!! ヽ(・∀・)ﾉ♡♡♡

First of all, I’m sorry that I took longer to this than expected, at least for a personal ask. I didn’t mean to make you wait. (｡•́︿•̀｡)

Okay, let’s check your question!!

Hm! 

First off, I want to tell you that I’m not an artist. So the advice I’m giving you is the best I can think about, but thinking about what I write/post, and what I’ve heard other artists say, but it’s not entirely from experience. So know that if none of what I tell you works, it’s not on you, I may have missed an important advice that didn’t cross my head!

If you’d like, you could ask someone from the drawing/painting world. Yuu-senpai, Hana-senpai, even Solaris-senpai, or many others are very friendly and open and they could give you advice from experience if what I tell you doesn’t convince you. c:

1. The first 5 tags

The first 5 tags under your artwork are the most vital and important, because they’re the ones that actually show up in the Tumblr search section!

You want to use the first five tags under your artwork as the best. Final Fantasy XV and FFXV would be the first two I used, and then something more specific (if your artwork is an Ignis one, then next comes the Ignis and/or Ignis Scientia tag, etc.).

If you want to/like to talk in the tags (like yours truly!), use the last tags or, at least, start from the 6th tag and ahead. The rest of the tags won’t show up in the search section when peopel browse the tag; the rest of the tag space are there for personal use (so you browse the tags in YOUR blog, not in the Tumblr site). 

WARNING: I HIGHLY advice you to NOT use the first 5 tags to fish for attention! If your artwork is a Gladio solo artwork, you have NO REASON to use the Ignis tag or a Noctis tag or even something like a Lunafreya tag!! DO. NOT. USE. UNRELATED TAGS. 

It may work to catch the attention, sure. Someone that follows the Ignis tag may see your Gladio artwork because you used the tag. You’ll catch their attention, but it will be NEGATIVE ATTENTION.

This IS from experience. You do make your artwork reach more people, but all you get is for people to go “Ugh” and scroll past your stuff because you’re spamming artworks unrelated to the tag in the tag. So do NOT!

2. Reblogs

Reblogs are possibly the most vital, most important part to be noticed.

While tagging is GREAT and the first step to make your art go somewhere, I’d dare say the majority of people don’t necessarily follow a tag. I don’t; all that I reblog, all were reblogged from another blog. I only follow the Corqi tag because of how scarce material there is for it, so I don’t want to miss anything. But, for example, I don’t follow any Ignis or FFXV tag (mostly because I want to keep my dash as short as possible lmao, but also) because I follow enough blogs that reblog enough artworks, so why follow a tag if the rest of the people are doing it for me?

Reblogging is a very, very vital part to get noticed because your art is reaching those blogs that don’t follow the tags.

This is, however, not on you. You need another blog to reblog your artwork; one reblog opens many chances so someone else reblogs, and so on and on. The more reblogs, the more chances for more reblogs, and hence, the more people will see it. 

You know what I just thought and I have no idea why it never occurred to me before?

Let’s say you have your art blog. Do you have another one where you reblog stuff? Do you already have followers? Reblog your own artwork; post in your art blog, reblog in the fandom one. That way, you’re your first reblog, and because your reblog/fandom blog will probably have more followers than the art one (at least in a beginning), it has more chances of reaching more people. 

So it’s very important that someone else reblogs your work. This is not on you, as I said, but rather in people giving you a hand at it. Except we don’t always reblog everything we see. 

So why not try to get a friend that starts doing it? 

You’re on anon for a reason, but if you want, you can tag me in your art, or tag me in it pretending to be someone else who happened to see the artwork and thought about me, so I won’t know it’s you (and don’t worry, I won’t get suspicious; I have no way to know it’s you, and I often get tagged in other artworks by people even if we don’t talk often, so I won’t look at the tag and say “Ah! It’s that anon from the other day!” I’ll just think it’s cool someone tagged me in something. Your identity is safe with  me, whether you keep it anon or not

To be honest I don’t reblog EVERYTHING that I see, but there’s big chances I will do it. I really like all the art in this fandom, it’s crazy how skilled you people are! But yeah, showing me can lead to me reblogging it, and there you could find that beginning of the reblogging chain.

Or if you’re too shy to show me, show someone else!!

Any of your friends, or someone you feel confident with, or comfortable with. The point is getting one first reblog that can lead to a few more, and the artwork will start eventually travelling across the FFXV fandom.

Speaking of reblogs, don’t be afraid of reblogging your own work in your own blog itself!

A lot, a lot, a lot of artists do it. A lot of writers too; I do it often!!

What I mean is, think about the world. It’s not the same hour everywhere. I can post something during my evening because everyone is online on evenings, right? So it wil reach everyone.

Nope. To some, it’s night; to some, it’s bedtime; to some, it’s morning. It won’t reach everyone simply because of timezones.

So what I do is, I post something, and then I queue a reblog of the same post but it’s my “12 hour reblog”. If I posted at 6 pm, I’ll queue it for 6 am. I like to do the 12 hr one because I think it’s more chances of reaching many people, with the not-so-literal thought of “if it’s day time here, it’s posting on nighttime in the other side of the world, so in 12 hours it will be this hour tomorrow for them”. I hope it makes sense.

And sometimes I even make a 3rd reblog. Sometimes I do feel shy about it because I fear to be annoying, but 99% of the times it works and it reaches people it hadn’t reached before. 

It’s a way of sending your own work back to the top of the dashboard, and sometimes a way to give a 2nd chance for people to see it; sometimes we scroll past something without noticing, so a reblog will give us a 2nd chance to see it.

3. Posting silly stuff sometimes

It’s not a secret that sometimes a silly stickman comic you drew in 5 minutes gets more attention than the profound artwork you worked in for 10 hours. It can be annoying, disappointing, even discouraging at times. But it is, nonetheless, a good way to get attention. 

I’m not saying you force yourself to think about jokes; most times forced jokes don’t work. But if you ever get a silly idea, don’t be afraid to draw it!

People won’t think about the art and judge it. They’re just looking at the joke. And if they find it funny, they may check your blog for more, and maybe you won’t have more silly comics, but maybe, from 10 people that look in your blog for more comics, 3 will think your other work is AMAZING and will fave and maybe even reblog some of that too. It can even get you a couple new followers.

Again, this is not NECESSARY. I follow artists that have never once in their lives (of this fandom) posted any joke or silly thing, and I still follow and ADORE their work to bits. The only thing I needed was to find them once. 

4. Asks and requests

If you’re up for it and have no troubles, you could also be open for quick requests in your ask box.

Have you seen some of those memes/charts, with many facial expressions/prompts, and people request something? “Could you please draw (X character) in A3, please? Thank you!” That sort of prompts. That can be very useful!

People really like free art. Some of us don’t have money for big commissions, so sometimes, when an artist can make a 15 minutes sketch or doodle of something we like, that’s amazing, and it can lead to earning followers and/or reblogs here and there. 

NOTE: Remember, however, that you’re not WORKING FOR US. You’re not getting paid. Do it for fun, when you can, and don’t stress or overwork or take 100+ requests and try to answer them all in 2 days. It’s only for fun. Alrighty? 

But yeah; sometimes, requests can lead some people to your ask, and hence tto your blog. And it’s fun! A lot of people in this fandom have some damn amazing creativity for prompts (and boy, do I know this!!)

5. Collabs /Drawing for a fic

This works better for writers; people look at artworks way, way, way more than they read fanfics, simply because it’s less time consuming and immediate. 

However, collabs can be an amazing way to get both artist and writer to be known.

There are some that follow the artist; some that follow the writer. So when a writer posts a fic linked to an artwork, people will find out about the artist’s blog that way. And when an artists posts an artwork with a fic linked, people will find the writing blog. It’s a good way that gives and receives equally. 

There are people that are REALLY passionate about a fanfic, so you can be sure as heck that they will check out any artwork about it. That they like it or not, that’s on them, but they will at least check it out. 

So you can also draw for a fic you like, no collab needed.

This works just fine, maybe even better. With this, you not only get to be known, but you also make a writer HYPED AND ECSTATIC. There ain’t a feeling in the world like getting art drawn for your fic. So you can be sure that 99% of chances are the writer will reblog even if it’s not a collab (unless the writer is some FREAK, I can’t imagine why someone wouldn’t reblog an art of their fic???). And so, the people that follow the writer will see it too. 

This can work very well because it’s a way to get at least one reblog for sure, which is a beginning. :)

6. Join fandom weeks/weekends

This is a good way to have fun and get yourself to get known.

That is because this is a way so you will for SURE have at least one reblog. And what’s best is that that reblog won’t be from a blog who has 1 follower, it will be reblogged by a fandom blog who has dozens of followers.

If someone is a lot into Gladnis, chances are they will follow the Gladnisweek blog. Maybe they won’t participate, but they follow it to see the entries of other people, and they have it for sure that the content will be exactly what they’re looking for. 

There is no way your artwork goes unseen in a fandom week! 

7. Be true to yourself; have fun

I know, I know. The most cliché of the clichéd advices. But it’s very important that you remember that.

Don’t draw for the attention; draw for yourself.

This IS another one from personal experience. I honestly never thought I’d write for this fandom, even less have this many followers or this many requests! And you know how I got here? Because I only had fun, shared my ideas, shared my passion for the game with others, I was honest and literally, literally only had fun.

Indeed, what pushed me to fame was literally just joking around. It was the Gladio’s pick up lines series. Which I did not because I wanted followers, I just wanted to make people laugh, and I wanted to share my jokes. 

All that I did was have a lot of fun and do what I wanted, not what I thought other people wanted, and eventually ended up here.

Drawing for attention is like drawing for money; it’s empty art.

You don’t dance, sing, paint, or write thinking about how much money and fame you’ll make. You dance, sing, paint, or write thinking about what your story will say, what you want to transmit, how you want it to look. You’re thinking about creating and sharing, not about the fame.

It’s as I said about making silly things or comics sometimes; it’s only if you want to and if you’re having fun, you don’t have (and must NOT) force it!! (Think about a gas; if you force a gas out, it’ll come out as poop. It must come out naturally. Same with everything else, art included!)

So stay true to yourself. Draw what you want to draw, as you want to draw it. True, you’re not drawing just for yourself; if that was the case, you wouldn’t post it online. You’re posting it because you want to share with others. But do so like that; draw for you and share with others, don’t draw what you THINK the others want or what you THINK the others will like. Draw what you want and what you like, and show us; you’ll find someone that likes it too.

Don’t stress about what people will like or not. Think about what YOU like, and that’s it. 

I understand the concern about getting your art to be known, but that comes later. 

And that’s all that I can think of right now! Gee, I sure hope I’m not forgetting/not thinking about something more or else. But I’m sure maybe some raccoobo can have advice too, so, while I can’t tell you for sure it will happen, maybe someone will drop a comment under this, so make sure to check the notes if you see any. My raccoobos are smarter and have more experience than me, so they may know something else! ヽ(・ω・)ﾉ

Of just draw the boys in lingerie, for some reason most fandom seem to like that? Lol. I honestly rarely like that and prefer them in fancy, but maybe I’m just old fashioned or a NERD. But really, draw what you like, this sentence was a joke c:

Anyway, buddy, that’s that!!

[I’m gonna add a read more; it’s not more, just my personal thanks, but as this is already lengthy, I’m gonna add this under a cut. Hope that’s okay, buddy :)]

Thank you so, so, so immensely much for asking me. I feel flattered that you decided to put this bit of trust in me. I don’t know what I did so you felt comfortable and asked me, but I’m happy about it!! 

Thank you for coming to this raccoonie for advice. I’m not the best at it, but I try. I hope any of this can be useful, buddy. Thank you again for the trust, it’s really valuable to me and I feel very honored that you asked me. :’)

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAWWWWWWWWWWWW, and thank you SO MUCH for saying such kind and nice and sweet things about me!!! YOU’RE SO NICE, AH, YOU STOP THAT! Now I’m a blushing and giggling MESS, I’m too weak at handling praise aklsdj dfskljf klsdjf d (*ﾉ▽ﾉ)♡♡♡ 

The raccoonie is here for any question or struggle that you have, buddy! I may not always have advice, but I can always share thoughts and ideas, or just read you and give you warmy and fluffy raccoonie snuggles, alrighty? c:

Thank you so much again for asking me and for the bit of trust, and for being so sweet with me

Whether you decide to show me or not, I’ll anyway be sending you some of my most powerful, strongest MAGICAL RACCOON VIBES so you get success and the fame and followers you deserve!! And I don’t know if you’ve followed my blog for a while or if you’ve read my other personal asks, but my magical racc vibes... ALWAYS WORK!! So now you ust gotta work hard, have fun, share, and that’s it. :3

So. *grabs pompoms* This raccoon will be HYSTERICALLY CHEERING ON YOU, OKAY. Greatest of lucks, buddy, I know you can do this!! GO, GO, A-NON, GO GO, A-NON!! YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY!!! o(≧▽≦)o

Thanks again for everything, buddy! I wish you the absolute BEST and I give you lots, and lots, and LOTS of magical raccoon vibes so it works phenomenally!!! (ﾉ´ヮ`)ﾉ*: ･ﾟ

Greatest of lucks!

I hope you’re having a MOST FANTASTIC day or night!! Hugs!  \(^ヮ^)/

[the-poutine-routine]

Have you talked much about Valse Triste? Could be fun to go back to their first senior fd!

Ok… let’s do this *cracks knuckles* *plays vm spotify playlist*

Hi anon! I mean I’ve mentioned Valse Triste I think...? But never have I ranted about it in great detail, so... um yeah... I guess I’ll do that now.

Overall thoughts:

I think as a whole Valse Triste was super fitting to who Tessa and Scott were as skaters at the time. The music had both a sense of levity and of maturity that matched the situation of being a couple of kids thrown into a competition with a whole bunch of seasoned ice dancers. I guess the main thing that stood out to me as they performed was- to steal one of the commentators’ phrasing- how automatic they look. Even after skating together for only ten years (I know, it’s such a short amount of time), they fall into hold together so easily, they always know where the other is on the ice. Moreover, they look so prepared, they go through all the elements so smoothly and precisely as if they never have to even think about what’s coming next. 

They look like they have something to prove.

So I love Valse Triste, it’s probably one of my favorite programs of theirs (that’s a lie, they’re all my favorites). I guess I see it as almost a pre-cursor to Mahler. It has the same sort of mood that I can’t quite find the words for right now... a brightness and joyfulness but with the faintest undertones of melancholy (damn, I sound like a pretentious asshole). 

It’s almost like with Mahler they’re just a couple of kids dancing, showing the world what they’ve got; while with Valse Triste they’re just a couple of kids dancing, showing the world that they have something to give.

Initial notes on the limitations of my analysis: 

Normally I like to give my overall thoughts (see above) at the end of these nonsensical rants, but this got insanely long and in depth (and illustrated) so I’m adding a break.

ALSO, normally when I’m doing analyses it’s from a specific competition and I’m comparing vm’s scores to another team, however, with this one, I’m not really out here arguing that Tessa and Scott were lowballed, so more than anything, I’m comparing them to themselves at present. I’m not saying that they were better or worse at any given time (although obviously Valse Triste was more than ten years ago, so they did make a lot of improvements from them until 2018...)

And, as always, I am no ice dance expert so everything that I say may or may not be complete and utter bullshit.

Oh, one last thing! I get super in depth about the program and all its elements yadda yadda, but then I have a blurb about why IJS isn’t that great of a judging system at the end so that might be worth while to read even if you don’t care about the rest of my rambling soooo yeah...

Ok hi! Hope you’re doing well!

Anywho, here’s the video that I watched. I used Worlds because, in theory, that should be their best skate / the best representation of the program as a whole. 

Ok, so here’s the protocol:

The judging, base values, component scoring, etc. have all obviously changed quite a bit since 2007, however I’m too lazy to re-learn IJS based on the 2007 system, so we’re just going to have to make do with my knowledge of the 2018 system. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Technical Element Scores (aka me blabbering incoherently because I wrote this part after doing PCS and my brain no longer wants to be organized):

The first thing I noticed about the TES when looking at the protocol was that while vm got everything called (because they’re freaking legends. Oh my god.), they didn’t have super great GOEs. I guess this kind of makes sense, particularly in the lifts you can kind of see them setting up for them rather than letting them flow with the program.

I think to give this entire shit show of a post a bit more organization, I’m going to break each element down by type and give some quick, spur-of-the-moment, rapid-fire thoughts. Kapeesh? 

Lifts:

I think it’s interesting how accurate of a representations Tessa and Scott’s lifts can be to the timeline of their career. The lifts in Valse Triste are all very low to the ground. Tessa has her head almost touching the ice in the straight-line lift, for example.

While the strength and balance needed to execute the lift are very obvious from looking at it, it’s not big or reaching outward like good ol’ cunniliftus or the curved lift from Prince and Moulin Rouge do. However, this isn’t a bad thing, it’s actually more fitting with the program and with who they were as skaters at the time. While they were spectacular ice dancers even back then, they also were just a couple of kids. Having huge lifts in this particular program probably would not only not fit musically, but also almost make it seem as if vm were trying too hard... if that makes sense? (Sorry, it sounds like I’m throwing shade, I promise I’m not, I really do like the lifts and think they’re perfect given the program).

Step Sequences:

Although this isn’t necessarily a technical attribute, I guess what stood out to me most about the step sequences were their confidence. They execute each turn so exactly, there’s no long drawn out edge going into them, every thing about the step sequences ooze self-assuredness, sort of like they’re saying “We’ve practiced this ten trillion times. We know what we’re doing. We’ve got this.”

Spin:

Honestly, I don’t have all that much to comment on this. A spin is a spin is a spin. What I notice more than the spin itself is the transition into and out of it, how quickly they execute it, and the speed with which they move out of it. 

Twizzles:

Again, not much to say here... they’re twizzles... Scott does get a bit off on the second one but somehow manages to save it and come out at the same time as Tessa which is pretty amazing hehehe. 

Program Component Scores:

Obviously, little baby 2007 Tessa and Scott had a bit of work to do before they became the Ultimate Ice Dancers Supreme™ that they are now, so there component scores were all in the 6-7 range (which is still pretty darn respectable), rather than maxing out in the 9-10 range like they did (crying that I have to use past-tense) in their later career.

Skating Skills:

Honestly, they’re fine? I mean yes they’re very good, but they still do have some work to do. I don’t know… they have very good edges and extensions as per usual, but they do seem to lack a bit of the up-and-down smooth knee bend movement that is super representative of Canadian skating and that they have boatloads of later on in their career. On a bit of a tangent, however, areas in which they do need to improve their skating skills almost lend themselves well to the program (the power of negative space, eh?). They add to the sense of innocence and youth of the program? As in as much as I love the Valse Triste, I think a lot of its meaning and pizzazz would not at all be fitting to a present day vm. 

Linking Footwork / Movement:

So I’m going to equate this to the part of the score that’s now called “Transitions” because… yeah… I just am, I’m assuming it’s more or less the same thing. The transitions were actually one of the main things I noticed upon my re-watching of this program. I don’t want to say that their transitions were simpler than they are now, per se, as that makes it seem like they were bad back in the Valse Triste days, but they kind of were… simpler. Rather than using turns and footwork to link together elements, Valse Triste more used crossovers, mini lift-like moves (Tessa looping a leg over Scott, etc.)

 and body movements to move from one element to the next. Now, in some ways, this is nice- especially as someone who is not an expert on every. single. ice. dance. element. (particularly those from 2007)- as it really accentuated … oop, writing pause, Come What May just came on and I need to take a sec to look forlornly into the distance … OK SO it really accentuated where each element ended and another began. However, if we’re thinking about flow, which is something that every program really should have, more full? (that’s a weird word, I know) transitions help the more modern vm programs to seem a lot more cohesive than much of their earlier work.

Choreography:

I know that technically on the protocol sheet, “Performance” comes before “Choreography” ties in to what I just blabbered about regarding transitions so… Ok so yeah, not going to lie to y’all, I’m not really a huge fan of Marina-esque choreography. She uses a lot of hops (brief side note: apparently vm got criticism for using hops to pick up speed, but this was literally part of the choreo. What gives?) and pauses as transitions which not only breaks up the elements and takes away from the cohesiveness of the program as a whole, but also doesn’t always make sense given programs with particularly um… ethereal… music, such as Valse Triste, or Mahler, or Seasons. 

That being said, something that the choreography does do very well, is being matched appropriately with the music. Although some of this obviously plays into the “Musical Interpretation / Timing” score, the fact that specific body movements or elements were chosen to go at certain points in the program as the mood and temp of the music evolves is very telling of a well-choreographed program. A prime example of this is how the circle step sequence (starting here) is set to a much more lively piece of the music, which makes sense choreographically as they are required to complete multiple turns in quick succession. 

Performance & Interpretation / Timing:

So, I’m just going to lump these two together because I’m lazy, because I can, and for reasons that I’ll explain in a hot sec. As always, I think Tessa and Scott did a stellar job of performing this program. Something that they excel at more than probably any other team ever…? is portraying characters and I think this program is a prime example of that. They make use of every body movement and ensure that everything is timed perfectly with even the smallest accent in the music. 

Ok so sort of a choppy transition here, but in skating, I am kind of a huge fan of facial expressions (which doesn’t necessarily make sense, as I’m totally one of those people who will beat someone up if they say that figure skating isn’t a sport, but that’s besides the point). The video is not the best quality because like… 2007… but even without being able to see specific minute details of either of their faces, you can tell that they are emoting. For example…

…here you can sort of see their faces and what they’re doing with them which is great, obvs, but more than that you can almost tell the emotion that they are feeling / portraying from their extensions and from their overall body language / movement. They really emote through their entire beings which is a skill that many ice dance teams don’t even come close to doing.

The limitations of IJS:

That hot sec that I mentioned in why I lumped Interpretation and Performance together? That one? Yeah, that hot sec is right now. 

Ok, so, one of the things I struggled with in trying to separate out each specific program component to look at is that any skating program is meant to be viewed as an entire entity. Yes, there are individual elements and individual components that all make up the program, but any skater and choreographer worth their salt (is that a saying? I don’t know) will try to add some sense of musicality and flow to a program, whether it be through having a storyline for the program or simply having certain movements that tie everything in the program up in a neat package from beginning to end. 

This being the case, it’s really hard to look at a program and parse out which movements are part of choreography, what pieces are thought up by the skater themself as part of the performance, etc. So… yeah it was hard. 

Another thing to note is that judging bias is a real thing. In this case I don’t think any biases necessarily came from judges being paid off or playing favorites or anything, but simply due to expectations. It’s not even anything to do with vm themselves, but with every newer senior team. First of all, when a team is placed higher in world rankings, they will skate in a later group at Worlds. This means that in the later groups there is a much higher expectation for the teams to do better and thus when a newer / lower ranked team is particularly good, the judges might be blindsided a bit and not give them that high a score simply because they did not expect that team to be good and consequentially do not see them as good (psychology, anyone?).

Another result of being in an earlier group is that the judges and tech panel aren’t going to want start right off the bat by giving all +3 GOEs and 10.00 component scores. There needs to be somewhere for the scores to go throughout the competition. So pretty much the earlier teams might be scored particularly harshly as they are pretty much setting the bar and being a baseline off of which all the other teams are going to be judged for the rest of the competition. (I mean technically, teams aren’t supposed to be compared to one another but like………)

Wow wow wow ok you made it! Yup, that was very long and probably made no sense and had like twenty different moods because I skipped around while writing it, but maybe you thought it was worth the twelve hours it took you to get through it? Probably not...

Anyway, thank you so much anon for inspiring my ranting :) 

[will-you-be-my-savior]

asks for 08/21/18

spooncryptid asked:

Hewwo!! I’m back!

Tord: well hello.

Matt: hi cryptid!

Tom: huh. the collar worked. good for you cat freak.

spooncryptid asked:

I’m not a freak anymore! I’m a cat!

Tord: don’t bother. he still calls me commie most of the time.

Matt: he says it with love.

Tom: … *quiet chuckle*

spooncryptid asked:

Fiiine, what ya eating?

Tom: tord thought we needed variety.

Tord: if it were up to you we’d never try anything new.

Matt: bulgogi! it’s Korean!

spooncryptid asked:

Boogogi? What’s that??

Matt: i dunno but it’s good!

Tord: thin steak cut into strips, marinated in a special sauce and fried.

Tom: …

spooncryptid asked:

Can I try some?

Tord: sure. we left you a bit in case you decided to come around.

Matt: if you don’t like it i’ll eat what you don’t.

Tom: matt no. that’s disgusting.

spooncryptid asked:

Yay!!

tord puts the plate on the floor for your ease of access. it has strips of meat sitting on a bed of rice and vegetables. the meat’s juices are soaking into the rice turning it a reddish color.

spooncryptid asked:

//licks the sauce//

matt waits impatiently for your opinion.

spooncryptid asked:

Mmm!! Mlem mrem mrm//continues licking sauce//

tord looks over at tom smugly. matt just looks happy that you’re happy.

spooncryptid asked:

//just licks off the sauce instead of actually eating it//

tom and tord don’t notice as they are too focused on each other. matt looks down at you disapprovingly once he notices.

spooncryptid asked:

//just licks off the sauce instead of actually eating it//

matt gently taps you with his foot. tom and tord will never stop fighting if you don’t eat even a little of the meat.

spooncryptid asked:

So what have you guys been doing today?

Tom: i’ve been working on the remaining parts of my project.

Matt: i learned how to stitch up a major wound!

Tord: today was the day i teach the fenrik. today’s lesson was the benefits of entropy.

spooncryptid asked:

Oo //jumps up on Matt’s lap// that sounds fun!

Matt: it was.

Tord: meh

Tom: it passed the time.

spooncryptid asked:

Mm, can I have pets?? I want pets!!

matt laughs and starts to pet you happily.

spooncryptid asked:

Ya!! Pets!!!

Tord: yes pets. *chuckle*

spooncryptid asked:

//purrs and curls up Matt’s lap//

Tom: okay. I’ll admit it. That is kinda cute.

spooncryptid asked:

You’re cute too Tommy

Tom: *scowl*

Tord: *snicker*

Matt: yes. yes he is.

Tom: *blush*

Tord: *snort*

spooncryptid asked:

You humans can be good and cute sometimes

Tord: *blush*

Tom: *snicker*

Matt: yes. yes they are.

(remember tom isn’t human. but tord is)

spooncryptid asked:

Why can’t all humans be good like you?

tord is the same shade of red as his hoodie. matt thinks this is adorable and while tom thinks so too he’s laughing too hard to say as much.

spooncryptid asked:

I guess there’s just a few, I’m glad I found you guys

Tord is flattered… And very embarrassed. Tom finally stopped laughing and is cooing at him.

anonymous asked:

would it be rude to ask- if tom isn’t human, what is he?

No one knows… Not even tom. ( I’ll tell you what they do know if you ask but this is all they would tell you)

spooncryptid asked:

... but why are humans mean sometimes?

Tord: if I had the answer to that question the world would be a much better place.

anonymous asked:

oh. i don’t want to be rude! just curious :3 sooo tom- when did you discover all these powers??

Tom: discover? The same time anyone is figuring out their own bodies. (You’re not being rude.)

spooncryptid asked:

I wish everyone was as nice as you

Tord: okay stop. Please.

anonymous asked:

how was that like? i love hearing stories~

Tom: well… i guess it was okay… until the fire breath kicked in… i had to be careful where i talked, laughed or even so much as sighed or i would set random things on fire.

anonymous asked:

oh no... what else happened? you don’t have to say, i just wanna listen! hey mod? should i have an “”anon name”” now?

Tom: i once took over the teacher’s mind and made them dance half naked on their desk… i was kinda drunk at the time…

(tom’s powers are listed on his reference sheet. if you have any more questions about that i’ll be answering them as he would just avoid the issue. if you want a signature go right ahead and make one. i don’t mind either way.)

anonymous asked:

curious anon: that sounds hilarious! can i bother matt about the same thing? mod i can’t find links to the references

Matt: after the hunger was gone most of my powers came naturally. except flight… flight was hard.

(check the timeline in the important info tab)

anonymous asked:

curious anon: matt can you turn into a small dog

Matt: NO! even if i could i’d be allergic to myself!

spooncryptid asked:

Dogs are bad and mean

Matt: they make me sick…

(when raised together cats and dogs get along very well actually)

spooncryptid asked:

If any dogs come around I’ll fight em off so they won’t make you sick!

matt is grateful… but tord kinda doubts that.

spooncryptid asked:

I’ll use my scratchers and scratch em up! No dogs will be biting or making anyone sick while I’m around!!

matt started petting and scratching you with enthusiasm!

spooncryptid asked:

Imma good guard cat and I won’t let nothing happen to you, mmm, pets good //rolls over and stretches out//

the three of them chuckle at your behavior.

anonymous asked:

curious anon: do you have a preferred blood type? ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) can you drink animals blood?

Matt: not really. but no, animal blood just makes me sick.

anonymous asked:

LMAO OK THE TORD SPIDER THING- since it’s the only m!a for today about 10 asks. should go pretty quickly (hopefully for his sake lmao) soo tord’s legs become spider legs n all that jazz~ he can still talk and use his arms don’t worry

… why a spider… why not an octopus or something… fine spider it is.

anonymous asked:

IM LAUGHING- can i m!a matt into a dog for 7 asks? included that he’s not allergic to himself lmao

you got here just a bit too late but if you come back in ten asks (don’t worry they go quick) maybe.

anonymous asked:

ah! hello （^人^）how are you today? -shy anon

tord was about to answer when.

*poof*

…

*unholy shriek*

(1/10)

spooncryptid asked:

//purrs and nuzzles into Matt//

Matt: uhhhh….

Tom: holy hot dog in a ball cap!

Tord: *continued unholy shrieking*

(2/10)

anonymous asked:

oh no... Tord can you walk? (O_O)-shy anon

tord can’t hear you right now he’s too busy shrieking but if he could answer he’d say “no i can’t walk! my legs are twig thin and i have EIGHT OF THEM!” but that would just be the shock talking.

(3/10)

anonymous asked:

Umm, I don't know how to help with panicking, but I'm pretty sure this is temporary, so it'll go away soon enough Tord. Just try to focus on something other than the legs. - Glitchy Anon

tord heard you but doesn’t care. he has EIGHT LEGS!!! … tord is hyper focused on the legs and has stopped screaming.

(4/10)

endragoneel asked:

ahhh! bad time to come in-

Tom: ya think?

Matt: no duh?

Tord: how are you guys more angry than i am?

Tom: weren’t you just screaming your head off.

Tord: …

(5/10)

endragoneel asked:

i can stand here and be support? you just gotta focus to walk.... recluse adapted well! (for the most part..

Tord: who?

(i think i know who you’re referring to but tord wouldn’t)

(6/10)

endragoneel asked:

oh! he’s a reject clone- kinda got his legs cut off and some evil scientist replaced them with spider legs. he’s doing alright all things considered... there are some really cool things you can do with spider legs!

Tord: reject clone?

Tom: remember that time that freaky director cloned us?

Tord: yeah.

Tom: they didn’t all come out right.

Tord: oh.

(7/10)

tord would very much like to have his legs back to normal and invites any and all questions…

spooncryptid asked:

Mrrrmm

Tord: i’m surprised he didn’t bolt…

Tom: honestly… me too.

Matt: i give good pets.

(8/10)

spooncryptid asked:

Ssnnnzzzzz (no one else is sending asks this is really awkward)

Tord: oooohhhh that makes more sense.

(agreed)

(9/10)

anonymous asked:

I'm sure this'll be fine soon enough. Better than your entire species being changed like with me. Extra limbs can be fun sometimes, and other times, they just get in the way. - MWT

tord sure hopes s-

*poof*

oh thank god

(i don’t know your signature, what does it stand for?)

(10/10) (M!A 3 end)

anonymous asked:

That ended fast. I got stuck as a Leviathan for a couple days. The tentacles made great hands, but it was not fun trying to sleep only to wake up tangled up in your own limbs. - MWT

Tord: oh i would not have done well like that for two whole days.

anonymous asked:

MUTANTS WORLD TOM IS THAT YOU?!

no they clarified. MayhemWorld tord, not mutants world. i don’t even think mutants world knows this blog exists.

anonymous asked:

Well, Leviathans can take human form, but being a human originally, sometimes that true leviathan form bled through a bit and I'd wake up tangled up in tentacles and no longer having actual hands. -MWT

Tord: … like some kinda hentai?

Tom: you are vile.

Tord: it’s just a question.

anonymous asked:

I might have made a few hentai monster jokes, but never really did more than that. The tentacles were more used to grab books and papers while working. - MWT

Tord: so… you just had lots and lots of tom tails?

Tom: my tail is not a tentacle!

Tord: …

endragoneel asked:

it’s funny that mutants world was mentioned? i’m a mod there o:

i guess mutants world has heard of this blog then.

anonymous asked:

I wouldn't compare them to a tail, they kind of formed along the upper parts of my back. Nothing like any tails on the Tom I know or your Tom. Probably should have mentioned I'm another Tord sooner.. -MWT

Tord: … like a clone?

Tom: …

Matt: hi other tord! *waves excitedly*

anonymous asked:

More like alternate universe stuff. Found a weird device that lets me communicate with other worlds. Can't fist fight my alternates with it to be alpha Tord, but I can talk to them at least. -MWT

Tom: *snort* alpha *snik* alpha tord…

Tord: you want… to get in a fist fight… with me?

Tom: *literally ROFLMAO*

spooncryptid asked:

Mmrem //stretches and yawns//

Matt scratches you some more. he doesn’t know how you’d react to two tords. especially when the new one realizes that you got here and are able to touch them and that he might be able to do the same if he tried hard enough.

(i kinda wanna see this happen)

anonymous asked:

Yeah! Though I have no clue how to even get to you. There's another version of us that's a literal robot, but well, one of my roommates dragged me away when I had a chance to fight him. Something about how humans don't mix well with neurotoxin. - MWT

Tord: neurotoxin!??

Tom: *laughing so hard he can barely breath*

anonymous asked:

We get along now, researching the oddities of my world and all that. But I still kind of want to fight him. -MWT

Tord: … who… no what raised you?

Tom: *has actually stopped breathing. he is dead… he’ll be back in an ask or two*

spooncryptid asked:

//nuzzles into Matt// hi Mattie

he greets you but is unfocused because of the oddity in front of you.

anonymous asked:

Extremely religious parents that thought I was possessed twice cause of bullying. I am nothing like how they wanted me to be. - MWT

Tord: … you turned out rather well for your circumstances.

Tom: *gasp*

Tord: are you done?

Tom: *burst out laughing again*

Tord: i guess not.

spooncryptid asked:

//Rolls over and jumps up on the desk// .. what happened to Tommy?

Matt: tom died. he’s back now though.

spooncryptid asked:

I guess that works? Who’s Tordie talking to?

Matt: another tord.

anonymous asked:

So, I guess your Tom can take another form too? You guys have any clue what he is, because I think the Tom here would love to know too. Poor guy's been trying to figure out what he is for years. -MWT

Tord: yeah sorry. we don’t really know either.

Tom: you’re probably shit outta luck on that one.

spooncryptid asked:

There’s two? Is the other one nice?

Matt: he wants to physically fight our tord… but other then that he seems nice.

spooncryptid asked:

Oh ok, What’s Tommy laughing about?

Matt: the other tord is an idiot.

spooncryptid asked:

Mm, makes sense

Matt: Mhm.

anonymous asked:

Darn, it was worth a try though. So, what kind of creatures are in your guy's world? I've got an entire book with information on the ones in mine and I'm really curious. -MWT

Tom: … more than a single book’s worth that’s for sure.

spooncryptid asked:

Is anything else happening?

Matt: nah. they’re mostly just talkin’ ‘bout supernatural stuff.

anonymous asked:

I would love to study them, just observe them, maybe ask questions. Just see what they're like. -MWT

Tom: any species in particular you have in mind?

spooncryptid asked:

Super-natural? Like you go vegan and get superpowers or something?

Matt: no like vampires and werewolves and zombies and stuff.

anonymous asked:

All of them. I just love learning about the paranormal. Kind of hoping one might help me figure out what causes that false positive uncanny valley feel to appear on some humans. - MWT

Tom: … i could probably do that, just have to touch you somewhere. *holds out his hand*

spooncryptid asked:

Oh, that makes more sense, kinda..

matt nods at you.

anonymous asked:

*Thud*(There is now a confused Tord face-down on the floor.)

Tom: how?… your grip is pathetic… and sweaty.

everyone welcome mayhemworld tord!

anonymous asked:

"Well, I didn't expect to trip into another world out of nowhere. Rude." (He is totally not pouting right now.)

Tord: how do you trip on a wall that’s no- oh my god tom! what are you doing!?

Tom: *purrrrr*

spooncryptid asked:

WAH!!! //runs and hides//

Matt: hi other tord!

endragoneel asked:

i’m always confused when i get back-ohmystarstheres twotords

yes you are. ever meet mayhemworld tord. we’ll call him mayhem for convenience. mayhem meet ever.

anonymous asked:

"Does he normally do this with people he meets?" (He's just getting more and more confused right now.)

Tord: not that i’m aware of!

Matt: he did that to one of the magic shop employees once.

Tord: why?

Matt: i dunno.

endragoneel asked:

welcome welcome!! visitors are always fun!

yes!

endragoneel asked:

wh- whats tom doing ?

Tord: i have no clue.

Matt: hugging!

endragoneel asked:

*confused noises????*

Tord: *equally confused noises*

anonymous asked:

"Okay then, this is happening. So, what was that magic shop employee like? Maybe it's exposure to magic that causes this. I do live with a guy that practices witchcraft and makes glamours for nonhumans." (Slightly confused pat on the head for Tom.) -MWT

Matt: but all the employees did magic. he only ever did this with ashley.

Tord: *has a hunch* describe ashley in three words.

Matt: small nice siren.

spooncryptid asked:

//creeps out, fur puffed and back arched// WHO????

Matt: cryptid meet mayhem!

endragoneel asked:

@tom? are you okay?

tom isn’t home right now call again later.

spooncryptid asked:

WHERE DID HE COME FROM????

Tord: another dimension.

anonymous asked:

"I am honestly just as confused as Ever. Though kind of curious, are Sirens bird people here or are they like mermaids?" -MWT

Tord: merfolk, harpys are the bird people.

Matt: he had the nicest voice.

Tord: did he ever do this with you?

Matt: hmmm… yeah i think so.

spooncryptid asked:

WHATS HAPPENING IM CONFUSED????

Matt: i dunno but tom seems to be happy.

endragoneel asked:

is he passed out? ?? ? i really can’t tell what’s happening at this moment

tom is currently wrapped around mayhem’s waist like some kind of living belt.

anonymous asked:

"Weird. Umm, is that cat alright? I know I have this weird uncanny valley effect on other humans and animals. I hope I'm not freaking them out." -MWT

Matt: …

Tord: a little late there buddy.

spooncryptid asked:

WHAT ARE YOU????

… that is for him to say not me.

endragoneel asked:

hmm i am getting a werid feeling off this guy... not quite sure what it is though

uncanny valley my friend.

mayhem:

“Really sorry for the effect I have on that cute cat. I don’t even get it myself. Also…” He’s looking at Tom a bit confused. “How long does he normally cling to people like this?”

savior au:

Matt: … i don’t know. he only hugged ashley for like ten minutes and me only about five…

Tord: that does not match up to now very well.

spooncryptid asked:

//hisses and bats at mayhem//

Matt: bad! bad kitty! i know you’re uncomfortable but he’s a guest.

mayhem:

“I hope he’s okay… though kind of nice the false positive uncanny valley effect isn’t freaking him out. Even my Tom was uneasy around me for a while until he got over it.”

savior au:

Matt: the uncanny valley affect seems to be reversed for him.

Tord: how much can he hear us right now? is he even in there right now?

(not really tord, sorry)

spooncryptid asked:

But he’s scary?? He bad?????

Matt: i know you’re scared but we’d protect you. you’ll be okay.

mayhem:

“Hopefully he’s okay…” He’s kind of concerned for this Tom, seems like he’s off in his own little world. Maybe he should try moving him? He gives a small nudge to the shoulder.

savior au:

why nudge when matt can just pick him up. which he does. with great pleasure. they bring him to tord’s room and put him on the small couch.

(matt likes carrying people. he thinks it’s funny)

endragoneel asked:

i’m not sure what it is about this guy, although he does seem pretty cool to me~ we both seem pretty interested in monsters and other non-human species!

i’m sure you’d like each other.

spooncryptid asked:

????? How is?? What???? //confused cat noises//

tord picks you up and pets you in an attempt to sooth you.

spooncryptid asked:

//squirms a bit before deciding to just cling to Tord, still glaring at mayhem//

tord hums as he pets you.

spooncryptid asked:

//whispers// I don’t trust him

tord gently moves your head so that you’re facing towards an exit if you feel like you need to escape.

mayhem:

“Oh come on, can’t we try to pull him off? Why just carry me to another room?”

He does pause for a moment.

“Is that cute cat gonna be okay? I… feel pretty bad that me just being here is scaring them.”

savior au:

Tord: well. i wouldn’t advise trying to remove him with those claws so close to your skin but go ahead and try if you want to.

Matt: cryptid should be fine just so long as you don’t get any closer to him.

mayhem:

“Cryptid? That’s an amazing name for a cat!” He is now distracted from the Tom clinging to him. “I’ll keep my distance though. It’ll be up to him how close he is to me from here on out.”

savior au:

Tord: technically we didn’t name him and his name is spooncryptid but just cryptid sounds better.

Matt: i think he’d appreciate that.

mayhem:

“Still a cool name. “ He’s just kind of pouting now. He’d like his freedom back soon. Maybe something to do too… well he’s got his book on the creatures in his world. Could start updating some of his notes. Yep, he’s doing that. The book is out and he’s looking for a pen on his person. And there it is! Time to start writing!

savior au:

Tord: hm? some kind of note book?

Matt: whatcha writing?

spooncryptid asked:

He’s writing to the demons....

Tord: ha ha. very funny cryptid.

endragoneel asked:

IS TOM GONNA BE OKAY THOUGH? how’s matt doing?

tom is fine. he should be coming around any minute now.  matt is fine too.

mayhem:

“This is actually a book that’s about the creatures in my world. I add my own notes to it when I have time. Figured I could work on it while stuck with Tom on me.”

savior au:

Tord: alright. then what are you gonna d-

Tom: *SHREAK*

Matt: ow what’s gott-

Tom: *bolts into the bed room*

Tord: … well…

mayhem:

“Is he okay?” He really hoped that wasn’t his fault. “And to answer Cryptid, I do not write to demons. I do live with someone that’s half-demon though. Real lazy guy that adores cats and treats his own cat like royalty at times.”

savior au:

Tord: i’m gonna go check on him. matt you hold cryptid.

Matt: right!

spooncryptid asked:

EEH???!? //hides in Tords arms, fur puffing up again//

matt pulls you from tord and holds you tight.

mayhem:

“Me knowing a cambion isn’t a bad thing… is it?” Now he’s starting to worry. He’s gotten used to the weirdness in his home, and he accepts his roommates for who they are, but could that be an issue.

savior au:

Matt: nah, tom’s mom is a wrath demon and his dad’s a poltergeist, you are fine.

Tord: *quietly from the other room* come on out. hiding under there isn’t gonna do you any good.

Tom: *muffled hissing*

Tord: i know it was embarrassing but-

Tom: *hisssss*

Tord: at least apologize for trapping him like that.

Tom: *grumble*

spooncryptid asked:

//clings to Matt// what’s happening??

Matt: tom seems to be throwing a fit.

spooncryptid asked:

//whines// Everything’s loud and scary //hides face in Matt’s chest//

matt doesn’t know how to comfort you so he holds you tight and covers as much of you as possible.

mayhem:

“Okay that is fascinating, wonder how those powers mixed together with him… and how a spirit was able to have kids with a demon… unless demons lack physical bodies here most of the time.” This world was pretty interesting, so many things are different.

Maybe he could start his own book for this world?

savior au:

Tom: *coming back into the room. now human* both. mom had a physical form she just didn’t like using it too much. she preferred to possess stuff like dad did.

Tord: it was so weird watching a bowling ball follow you around as a kid.

Matt: i thought him carrying a pineapple everywhere he went to be stranger.

Tom: yeah yeah mock my childhood some more why don’t you.

spooncryptid asked:

//attempts to hide in Matt’s arms, it doesn’t work very well because of all the fur that’s fluffed up and going everywhere//

matt smooths the fur as much as he can with his petting.

mayhem:

“Huh, the Tom in my world just had a sentient Pineapple and Bowling Ball for parents. Or humans cursed into those forms. They did swear they weren’t anything like possessing spirits or demons… Or Tom did for them.” He shrugs, maybe Tom’s parents were hiding something from him back in his world.

savior au:

Tom: i don’t know anything about your tom but from what i can tell he’d have little reason to hide anything like that from you.

mayhem:

“Kind of thinking his parents might be hiding something from him honestly.” He gave a little shrug, not sure what else to say. “You okay? You were kind of out of it for a while. That false positive uncanny valley thing didn’t do anything to you did it?”

savior au:

Tom: *whispered* false positive?

Tord: you said you were a leviathan before right?

spooncryptid asked:

//starts quietly purring//

matt pets you more!

mayhem:

“One of those grey things turned me into one. But the false positive thing has been around for a long time before that… got me put in the hospital as a kid thanks to it freaking out my classmates.”

savior au:

Tom: … you didn’t just get randomly turned into just any supernatural creature you know. IF you WERE a supernatural you WOULD BE a leviathan, that’s a powerful thing. that… type of person is very appealing to my kind… whatever that kind is.

mayhem:

“No the grey thing pretty much told me I was getting turned into another creature. And I can’t bring out tentacles anymore. Plus I’m human, and raised by humans.” He is pretty much just gonna dismiss that theory. “I also have a really ancient friend that agrees I’m human with a weird uncanny valley effect. He’d be able to tell if I wasn’t.”

savior au:

Tom: … *thinking “wow this guy is dense”* then i guess you’re just that kinda human…

Tord: … i am ashamed to be your counterpart… OW.

Tom: SHHHH

spooncryptid asked:

//yawns and nuzzles closer//

matt brings you into the bedroom and closes the door so you’re away from every one else.

spooncryptid asked:

Mrmm //keeps purring//

matt relaxes on the bed with you on his chest.

spooncryptid asked:

Gnight Mattie

Matt: good night.

mayhem:

“What’s that supposed to mean? Do you normally insult guests? Do you want a fight or something?!” Well, him being prone to fighting was a definite mark against him being a leviathan, the ones in his world are pretty much pacifists.

savior au:

Tord: look… just… *sigh* lets just go to bed. it’s way too late right now.

Tom: *yawn*

Tord: see. you can sleep on the coach. good night.

mayhem:

“Fine.” He’s probably gonna pull an all-nighter working on the book… or locate and raid the kitchen for some food. Hopefully seafood… with shells. That crunch from the shells is the best part!

savior au:

while tord heads to bed tom sneaks out and picks up a bit of shellfish for him. he knows mayhem will return to his own world by morning just like everyone else who isn’t in contact with him over night. he wishes him good night and tells him he can visit any time and that if he ever needs anyone to talk to about his uncanny valley problem he can come here.

mayhem:

“Thanks.” And there he goes just biting into the shell and eating his fill. He works for a while before he’s just gone from this world and back in his own. At least Ringo’s there to instantly curl up on him upon his return.

[o0o-chibaken-o0o]

Hello love, could you rec me your favourite 8th year fics on ao3?

Hello yourself! YES, I can absolutely do this and honestly I feel like I’ve been waiting for this moment my entire life. I am OBSESSED with 8th year fics and I hope I can recommend at least a few you haven’t read already! :)

*warning*: This is an Extremely Long List. It is in literally no order because I love all of these fics so much it is as if they are my own children and I couldn’t possibly rank them

Unexpected Consequences by Lauren3210 (39K)- Harry was going back to school. He was going to play Quidditch, sleep in lessons, hang out with his friends, and generally just enjoy being a kid for a change. And he was also going to do it while being bonded with Malfoy, because apparently life was just going to continue throwing curveballs at him. Harry didn’t know why he expected anything different.This is one of the first fics I ever read and I still remember it clearly; it was THAT good! As an alternative to Azkaban, Draco is allowed to attend Hogwarts provided he agrees to a bond with Harry that makes him to do whatever Harry says. Naturally, once the feelings start this causes a lot of worrying and angst and klsfhd it’s just really really good! Also did I mention they share a private room? I know I can’t be the only one who lives for that.

Right Hand Red by lumosed_quill (73K)- Harry felt Malfoy’s breath on his lips as they came together over the bottle, hands firmly planted on the floor as though they each needed their familiar soil, refusing to cross into enemy territory. Except that Malfoy no longer felt like his enemy. Malfoy felt inevitable.Another of the first ever fics I read (and reread!) and MAN IS IT FUCKING AMAZING. The lust starts right from the beginning and there are *lots* of party games and a secret relationship and sweet moments and teaching of patronus charms and *sigh* I just want to go read it again right now!

Lumos by birdsofshore (41.5K)- Harry never expected to spend eighth year listening to Draco Malfoy wanking.FABULOUS fic in which they are roommates and then Draco wanks and then Harry wanks and then Draco and Harry wank at the same time, and then there are feelings!! A thousand times yes.

Strange Bathfellows by Bixgirl1 (27.5K)- It started with a bath. Or a potions accident. Or maybe it started before that, but who can tell anymore.Featuring: Uncomfortable wanking, more comfortable wanking, mutual wanking, bath sharing, inappropriate betting, secret shagging, those secrets at Hogwarts that everyone knows, and oblivious Harry who knows one thing: he’s falling in love.Harry and Draco being forced to share a bath is everything I never knew I needed until I was blessed enough to find this fic. @bixgirl1 has MANY truly ✨FABULOUS✨ eighth year fics (for example Instruction for a Misplaced Slytherin (8.5K) in which Draco teaches Harry about sex and In Evidence of Magical Theory (43.5K), which features forced bonding) and you should definitely read them all, but Strange Bathfellows remains my favorite! :)

He Was He and I Was Bunny by bryoneybrynn (37.5K)- The war is over and “eighth year” is about to begin at Hogwarts. But for Harry and Draco, nothing is quite the same. Harry’s looking for an escape, Draco’s looking for a friend. Does a little black bunny hold the answers for both of our boys?This fic combines two of my favorite tropes: eighth year and animagus transformations! And just… Harry is a freaking bunny??? A bunny who Draco pets and loves and OMG I’m melting just thinking about it.

Tug-O-Want by dysonrules (16.5K)- Harry is back at Hogwarts minding his own business when he finds himself magically drawn to Draco Malfoy. Over and over again.*Something* is making Harry feel a tug that keeps leading him to Draco and I don’t want to spoil anything but honestly isn’t that enough for you to be already hooked???

Don’t Think Twice (series) by firethesound (all together 28.5K)- Harry was just trying to get away for a while. He didn’t mean to get trapped in the Prefect’s Bath with Draco Malfoy.Were you perhaps interested in some porn, anon? Because this series is INCREDIBLY hot! Harry, under the invisibility cloak, finds himself trapped with Draco, who is doing some very interesting and compelling things to himself with a very interesting and compelling object. Unfortunately, the series is incomplete and last updated in 2014 but (and keep in mind I usually can’t stand reading WIPs) it’s totally worth the read anyway because PORN guys, PORN

How to Handle an Enemy and Turnabout is Fair Play by who_la_hoop  (18.5K)- Everyone knows that it’s no fun playing truth or dare with a Slytherin. But add a little Veritaserum, a scheming duo of Slytherin girls and surprising things can be revealed. Particularly about the fine line between love and hate…MORE PORN, and honestly some of the hottest I’ve ever read (and quite kinky!). I remember exactly where I was the moment I realized that I probably should have saved this one for when I was not in such a very public place. And as a bonus (ha), there’s plot too!! It is just oh-so-delicious! And the sequel is just as good! Again though, the series is not technically complete. But while I would be overjoyed to see another sequel someday, the two works stand well on their own and shouldn’t leave you unsatisfied at all! (Also I just reread them both while making this list because I couldn’t stop myself and they’re also super funny???? And just? great????)Also I should note that who_la_hoop is one of my all-time favorite writers and I already mentioned Written on the Heart (in which Draco has a soul mark with Harry’s name) in my angst-with-a-happy-ending list. It is also eighth year! And there are more great eighth year fics by her, read them allllll!

At the End of the Day by sara_holmes (7.5K)- No brooms, a distinct lack of balls, no comprehension of the offside rule and a Malfoy who apparently has magic feet. Harry never knew this stupid game could be so much fun.This is a short, really lovely fic that stands out to me because of its plot being so different from that of most eighth-year fics! In a good way though, because who doesn’t love a bit of Harry watching Draco be really really good at football?? Shirts vs skins anybody? ;)Also I already recced Mental by sara_holmes in my slow-burn rec list, but it absolutely deserves mention here too because it is one of my ABSOLUTE FAVORITE eighth year fics of all time! Also Get Some (link to google drive) which is not on AO3, but which IS absolutely fucking brilliant! Harry is drawn to Draco because he’s the only one after the war who refuses to put up with Harry’s shit.

Let Me Be Your Voice by Queenie_Mab (47.5K)- As the hero of the revolution, Harry leads the wizarding world in its efforts to rebuild; but first old wounds must be tended, rifts caused by hate mended, and his history with Draco Malfoy seems like the perfect place to start.This fic is great. First Harry finds a very *ahem* interesting use for Draco’s wand. And then when they get to school Draco isn’t talking for some reason (ooo intrigue!), and Harry is Very Concerned. Plenty of UST, some hurt/comfort, some kink, just really great!

Don’t mind if I keep your tie (and your heart, babe) by Ingi (21.5K)- The Eighth year common room has a parrot in it, courtesy of McGonagall and her mad search for interhouse bonding.Most of the time, it’s just there, until one day it repeats “Potter has a damn fine arse.” And the Slytherins know exactly who the parrot’s mimicking…Draco is not amused.All of the eighth years are sharing a common room with a literal parrot. Need I really say more?

Good Company by Greenflares (8K)- With Hermione and Ron always together, Harry’s return to Hogwarts to complete his education isn’t exactly fun. Somehow, it’s his unlikely friendship with Malfoy that keeps him sane.This fic is pretty short, but something about it made me absolutely fall in love and fangirl all over it for days! I wanted to read it again immediately upon finishing! For some inexplicable reason it also gave me this sense of nostalgia for High School and falling in love as a teenager, which I was alllll about. Definitely read this one if you haven’t.

Love Comes Tumbling by taradiane (22K)- ‘Harry’s thoughts were of how much he would have done differently with Malfoy over the years, and of Dumbledore’s final words to the other boy … “It is my mercy, and not yours, that matters now.” Maybe, Harry wondered, he could find some mercy, too, and give Malfoy the second chance that Dumbledore had believed him worthy of.’Basically Draco is being ostracized, and Harry notices and wants to help. Ron and especially Hermione are not very understanding, but Harry doesn’t let that stop him from befriending Draco! There is some angst, and slow-burn, and the Room of Requirement and coming out and…just yes!

1,000 Points From Gryffindor by blithelybonny (25K)- The story of how Harry Potter single-handedly lost Gryffindor the House Cup while attempting to have a “normal” year at Hogwarts. Featuring Harry’s suspicious nature turned up to eleven again, a new DADA teacher who is so not here for Harry’s fame, multiple detentions, Slytherins being sneaky, Hufflepuffs being sneakier, and the mystery of Draco Malfoy’s hoodie because seriously Hermione who gave that to him and is he wearing it just to torment me? This is ridiculous!AAGH DRACO MALFOY IS WEARING A HUFFLEPUFF HOODIE???!?!? Does this idea intrigue you as much as it does Harry?? Don’t you just NEED to know WHY?? If you want to solve this particular mystery you’ll just have to read this amazing fic!

In Your Arms, Rests My World by loveglowsinthedark (24K)- Harry presses his mouth to Malfoy’s forehead; he wants to tell him that he’ll never leave, that he wouldn’t dream of it.“You make me feel safe, Potter” Malfoy whispers. “You keep me safe.”UGH THIS FIC! I honestly should have recced this one on the heavy angst with a happy ending list because it is SO ANGSTY there is the middle and I HATED IT and I HATE @l0vegl0wsinthedark FOR DOING IT TO ME (read: amazing, beautifully written fic with tons of feels and I was SO SO invested and I loved it so much; go read it ASAP so you can cry with me). Tip: while reading, keep in mind that there is a super fluffy short sequel that will soothe all of your pain! Warning for rape (not h/d).

The Owl Who Came for Christmas by dracogotgame (17.5K)- Draco has a debt to pay off, no matter what Potter thinks. And he has a Very Good Idea to go along with it. Things don’t go as planned.OMGGGG Draco is an animagus and guess what he becomes?! Srsly, guess!!! Okay, I’ll tell you. An OWL, a lovely fucking OWL who delivers very sweet presents to Harry and eilwryudksj it’s just so cute and lovely and sweet!!

Also I just want to recommend every single eighth-year fic by Faithwood, who is in my opinion the queen of fluff (and often fluffy smut)! If you sort eighth-year HD fics by kudos on AO3, hers make up about half of the front page so OBVIOUSLY they are all required reading! 

And lastly(!!) idk if this violates some sort of etiquette, but I thought I’d mention that I myself have written three fics, and they are all eighth year! Unbearable is really short and fluffy and about Draco being dared to kiss Harry, All You Want for Christmas is Me features Draco wearing nothing but a big red ribbon, and His Little Something is basically a bunch of Harry failing to resist slutty Draco and me indulging my HUGE (heh) love of size kink. And…I think they’re…good? I hope? Read them and let me know?? ;D

Wow this became SO LONG and yet there are still about a billion other eighth year fics that I could rec! But I’ll stop here and keep this list mildly readable :D ENJOY!! 😁😁😁

[usertoxicyaoi]

'me and daf analysed all of yousef's dialogue last friday and we found out so many new things that just do not add up at all' what things??? I'm curious,please share,Faiza!!

Not really a question: But i feel you with the suspicion on Yousefs story about Even, something doesn’t seem right with how he is describing Mikael and what we have seen from Mikael as of now!!!! Maybe im reaching but i need answers!!!

faiza! hello! please elaborate on the inconsistencies in mikael’s behavior & yousef’s story because i am seeing a ton but feel like i’m going cray because everyone’s talking about the even part and no one’s talking about these! (i really hope they’re not slips in the writing tho lol.)

Hi, Anon!

So, I’ve gotten 3 asks in one go, and me and Daf - @josteninski - are on IM right now, and Daf is literally telling me, “Faiza. Do it.” … So, here we go. 

Me and Daf were on the phone yesterday for like … 3 whole hours? about this. But, urm, yeah, Yousef’s choice of words, and dialogues last Friday. Something’s not adding up.

So 3 lines we focused on were these, particularly the bold bits:

You know Even? The guy we used to hang with? I think he’s gay.. Because he tried to kiss Mikael and Mikael is really religious, so he totally flipped out and was really out of it. So it turned into.. Even like trying to cure himself by reading the Quran. And it ended up with him posting different verses from the Quran where it said like.. gay people go to hell. You know he.. tried to kill himself? So I just feel like Islam.. Or religion in general.. Just creates a lot of anxiety in people. 

Sorry, I don’t know. I personally feel like I’ve taken the best of the religion and thrown away the rest.

If religion is so good, why does it split society?

And now I want you to focus on Mikael, who “was religious”.

Mikael drinks.

Mikael wears nail polish.

Mikael who is completely okay with being physically affectionate with the boys in the balloon squad, even out open in public.

Mikael who talks about polygamy.

Mikael who has on a couple of occasions, used sign language.

Mikael who still has Even’s phone number.

So, Yousef starts off by saying to Sana, “You know Even? The guy we used to hang out with?” … like, if The Balloon Squad used to hang out at Sana’s place, then … of course, Sana would know Even! She wouldn’t forget Even, she wouldn’t need reminding of Even being “the guy we used to hang out with” … which seems a bit … distant? For Yousef to call Even “the guy we used to hang out with”, because I’m pretty certain he was a lot more than just “a guy they used to hang out with”, they were all friends, part of a circle. Notice how Even called The Balloon Squad, “the boys”, when he asked Sana, “how are the boys”, and Yousef calls Even, “the guy we used to hang out with” … like Even holds them so dear to him, but Yousef seems so distant in calling Even a friend, or a part of them, and instead calls Even “the guy we used to hang out with” … something seems … odd about that.

Then, Yousef says, “I think he’s gay.” He thinks? So, the boys still don’t know about Even’s multiple gender attraction? Yousef “thinks” Even’s “gay”, so … Yousef is assuming here. Yousef is assuming that Even might be gay.

Which then leads onto the next big, perhaps the BIGGEST, most IMPORTANT word in this entire dialogue: “it turned into …. Even like, trying to /cure/ himself.” Notice how, based off this assumption that Yousef’s had that he thinks Even might be gay, Yousef is narrating THE ENTIRE STORY from the point of view OF HIS ASSUMPTION. Not Mikael’s assumption or POV, but YOUSEF’S OWN POV. That Yousef assuming Even might be gay “turned into” Even trying to “cure” himself by reading the Qur’aan. Yousef himself makes these links here, that … well, I think if Even is gay then that must have resulted in him trying to make himself better by reading the Qur’aan. 

Which, to be honest … is that true? Can he really speak for Even here? What if Even wasn’t trying to “cure” himself. What if Even GENUINELY wanted to read the Qur’aan, to gain some understanding? To feel closer to Mikael and the boys? What if Even just wanted to do that for reasons that may not be for “curing” himself? How can Yousef just … ASSUME all these things?, as he again, ASSUMES, when he says “so it ended up with him”. It’s basically Yousef trying to add all the pieces up here from what HE’S seen FROM HIS point of view.

Do you see where I’m going with this? It’s ALL based off, of HIS point of view.

And what is Yousef’s point of view, right now, on religion: that he DOESN’T believe in a religion. He doesn’t BELIEVE in Allah. 

Because “Islam, or religion in general, just creates a lot of anxiety in people”. People? Is he talking about Even here, or somebody else too? “People”,not just 1 person, i.e, Even, who this story is about, but people, more than one person. He means himself. He is the 2nd person here, making “person, into people”.

Do you see the projection here, Yousef is placing into this story? There are little bits, where he is inserting himself into the story, because it’s ALL BASED on what HE believes.

So, of COURSE, when Yousef pauses in between when he says “So it turned into […] Even, like, trying to cure himself”, Yousef is trying to find the best word to fit in and describe the situation, but he ultimately will only, and can only, describe the situation from HIS point of view. And so, keeping that in mind, it’s astonishing (but is it really), that the word that comes into Yousef’s mind to best fit and describe the situation is “cure”. Yousef could have just as easily have said “read”, but no, he used the word “cure”. Again, Yousef is projecting, and inserting himself into the narrative. Because, ultimately, what happened? Yousef became so anxious, that Yousef’s cure to the anxiety was to “take the best parts of the religion, and throw the rest away”, and that’s EXACTLY what “curing” means … curing means to get rid off the negative, and keep and improve on the positive. So, why project that onto Even for, then? 

And also, denouncing your faith. Denouncing your faith, is a HUGE HUGE deal. It’s not something that just happens overnight, or something you do based off of ONE event, especially if you’ve been born and raised within a practising, religious household. So, Yousef MUST have been thinking about this for a very, VERY long time, to the point where he must have been in a conflict of his OWN about religion vs no religion, and him literally trying to see what all the good bits about religion are, against what all the not good bits about religion are. Yousef in HIMSELF was trying to find a cure for HIS anxiety about this whole issue, and I feel like whatever happened with Even, was the final straw, the last nail in the coffin, that thing that sealed the deal for him, that, yeah … i can’t be doing this anymore. 

There is SO much projection here of Yousef, and of HIMSELF and HIS experiences and HIS POINT OF VIEW, that shapes the ENTIRE narrative of the story based on how HE saw it, based on HIS agnostic/atheistic non religious beliefs. So, of COURSE, Yousef would find the word “cure” to be the fitting one here, for him to think it is the best word to explain the situation as to why this made Even do this thing which then made Even do that thing.

But, again, how can he just speak for Even, like that? How does he KNOW? 

And then, perhaps, comes the most contradictory statement from Yousef from the entire night. So, all this time, Yousef’s been saying “he’s take the best part out of religion”, so he agrees, that religion does indeed have some good parts to it, but then, he says “if religion is so good” … which, doesn’t make sense? Because only a while ago, you just said that religion in fact is so good, in fact, the best, in certain key parts, so much so, that you decided to take those parts, which you agreed were in the religion, and implemented them into your life. So now, why all of a sudden, is he saying this, religion isn’t all that good? That religion isn’t so good.

And then there’s that battle 2015 pic …. why “battle” … if both Yousef and Even were friends, or “guys that used to hang out with each other”, why battle over something for?

And then, if we go back to the words Yousef uses, “then then turned into,” “it ended up with” … so what happened in between the points “A to B, from where things turned”? And so if something “ended up” with something happening, then what about the “start and middle” of those things? And how long before or after did the suicide attempt happen? 

So, in short, what else is there that we are not being told? Because we, for SURE, are not being told the full story at all.

Because, I see Mikael now, and …………. I just … cannot understand how he went from, as YOUSEF described, “being TOTALLY freaked out and distant”, to becoming a guy wearing nail polish, who, if he was so insensitive, is shown to be repeatedly using sign language, and still having the phone number of his best friend who made a pass at him that he then “freaked out” from and “became distant” to, whilst going from being so religion, to now drinking openly? To going from being so “freaked out”, to now being completely fine in being openly affection with boys in public, on the road! 

So … where/how/when did THAT happen?

There’s … stuff, not adding up here. Stuff, we’re very clearly not being told here.