#Alexander's sense of humor

[jeannereames]

Did Alexander have a sense of humor?

Yes, I think he did. But it wasn't quite as...quick-witted?...as his father's. I get the impression Philip was truly FUNNY. But yes, I think Alexander had a sense of humor, and sometimes it had a bite. I'm not sure, however, that anybody would have called him a wit.

In the novels, I tried to distinguish a bit in how I understand their senses of humor. As a survival tactic, I suspect Philip learned to laugh at himself--but also at others. He could be mean in his humor, while pretending not to be. He had a dark humor at times, and natural timing, as well as a sense of the absurd. He could tell a joke.

Alexander's humor was more straightforward, I suspect. He could also be mean in his humor, but he was deliberate about it. I don't see him as making fun of people in a funny sideswipe. If he went after you with humor, you'd wronged him, in his eyes. I think he was also more...joyous?...in his sense of humor. He liked things that were innocently funny. Ironically, I don't think he was a particularly good joke-teller, although he could laugh at one. I also don't think he generally took pleasure in somebody else being made fun of...unless (again) that person had wronged him in some way: e.g., he thought the person deserved it.

I have little in the way of evidence for either opinion. It's just a sense I have.

[rat-prophetess]

pathologic 2 + text posts because I can't face my actual responsibilities and my brain is broken (part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5 / part 6 jfc because my brain is still broken) [patho classic version, part 1/part 2/part 3/part 4/part 5]

[v-tired-queer]

I have this really dumb headcanon where years after the events of the book and after a lot of ✨️therapy✨️ for Philip, he and Henry get to have a nice sibling relationship so when Alex and Henry eventually get married, Philip sets Alex's phone contact to "BIL < £75K 😒"

[pedriache]

sweaterpaws!trent and it’s just reader finding it soooo ^_^ but amusing at the same time. Lmk.

The only exception — Trent Alexander-Arnold.

Pairing: Trent Alexander Arnold x Fem!Reader

Summary: You never believed in love until you met Trent. On your second date, you realize he is the only exception to your beliefs.

Word count: 545

Disclaimer/s: fluff fluff fluff with a hardly even a smudge of angst if you squint hard enough

A/N: I love him your honor. + gif from @/trentione on tumblr !

Second dates weren’t usually your thing. You’d always given up after the first, but for some reason, you couldn’t resist this one. The Scouser had completely enamored you from the start. His smile, his laugh, his accent, it was all too consuming.

Even now, as the two of you exited the restaurant, you were smiling, giggling at a joke he’d made. The car was parked a block down the road, so you two held each other close, arm in arm as you walked.

“How was the food?” Trent asks, looking down at you with a small smile.

You look up, sharing the same smile. “Amazing, how’d you hear about this place? I’ve lived here all my life and never heard of it.”

Trent shrugs, “from a friend, he proposed to his wife there, actually.” He sensed the way you tensed, swallowing thickly at how uncomfortable you’d gotten. “I’m not—no—I just—“

You reached his car, a soft laugh escaping your lips. “No, I know. It’s okay.” Your arms disconnect and you notice the way his sleeves had come to wrap over his fists.

You say nothing though, as Trent quickly switches the topic to tell you a funny story. While he speaks, you could only focus on the way his sweater sleeves had been pulled over his hands as if they were paws. You quickly reach into your pocket and pull out your phone.

“What are you—hey!” Trent laughs, shaking his head when your phone comes out to snap a picture of him. “No pictures!”

Your grin widens as you take picture after picture, sinking in the way he giggled, trying but not trying really, to stop you from doing so. “You look adorable!” You tease, fully amused by the situation.

Trent’s head shakes as if to silently tell you to stop, but he doesn’t physically make you. Instead, he covers his face and takes the few strides toward you, his arms wrapping around your waist as your phone presses against his chest. No more pictures, just him in front of you, looking into your squinted, humor filled eyes.

“What’re you doing, mister Alexander?” You quirk an eyebrow, head lulling to the side with a lopsided grin.

“I was about so ask if I could kiss you, but…” He trails off, eyes flickering across your face.

Your heart flutters, and you feign contemplation. “Hmm.” But the way he was looking at you, the way he held you so gently, you couldn’t decline. He seemed to be the only person in your life that had ever elicited such an intense emotion from you.

Trent, a man you’d only agreed to go on a date with because your best friend had begged you to, was now the only man you’d felt so strongly for.

He was the exception.

“Is that a no?” Trent asks quietly. You blink, just realizing how long you’d been silent for.

“Oh! Oh God, no! No, it’s a yes! It’s most certainly a yes!” You spew out quickly, stumbling over your words. “Sorry, I was just thinking! Yes, please.”

The brunette chuckles, his head tipping down to capture your lips in a tender kiss. A kiss you were certain would lead to many others, and hopefully a lifetime worth of them.

Likes , comments , and reblog’s are all appreciated. Let me know if you’d like to be tagged in any future posts <3

DTS , @halfwayhearted @spidybaby !

[warping-realities]

Part of the Family

Hey guys, first of all this is the long overdue 1000 followers special and also the last story for a while. I'm warning you that it may not be to everyone's taste. There are sensitive themes in the middle and I wrote it more thinking about a horror story than anything else. I don't even need to say that I don't agree with the thoughts and ideas presented by the person responsible for everything who is a fucking psychopath who piously believes that his vision of the world is the only possible one. Anyway, I hope it's an interesting read.

Alexander couldn't believe where the hell he was at that moment. For the young New Yorker, visiting a small town in Texas was way at the bottom of his to-do list, just above getting his teeth pulled without anesthesia. But Abby insisted, and he eventually caved. They had been together for a few months, having met at college where they shared a common class in Columbia. Despite her hick name, Abilene Marrie Johnson, Abby had a sharp mind and a biting sense of humor, able to throw shade right back at his sarcastic remarks with ease, making him quickly fall for her. Not that the fact she was a hot blonde with a petite, well-proportioned body gets in the way. Even her terrible Southern accent was just a remnant of what it used to be, almost unnoticeable, though he still found himself grimacing when she let it slip. That was happening way too often since she arrived in her hometown, where her dad and brother worked in construction. How low-class was that? Not that he was about to say anything to his girlfriend, who was eager for him to meet her family. He didn’t share that anxiety; he could overlook her flaws, but being stuck with two ill-mannered troglodytes was out of the question. This was gonna be his one and only trip to this backwoods hellhole, and he was doing it just to please her—later, he’d make up excuses to avoid going through this crap again.

“A July 4th lunch in a community center… how… proletarian.” He commented condescendingly while looking for his girlfriend at the entrance of the old manor that served as the town's gathering spot. Watching the myriad of folks around him, from all sorts of races mingling just fine, surprised him since he expected a bunch of racist rednecks. What didn’t surprise him was seeing most of them wearing something with the American flag or at least some stripes and stars. Abby wanted to dress like that too, but he’d never let himself be seen with someone dressed so… tacky, to say the least. Independence Day had never been celebrated at his house; his parents were fierce liberals with anarchist tendencies, viewing the day as something hijacked by far-right conservatives who used patriotism to justify their anti-democratic antics. Not that any of them had bothered to vote in any of the recent elections. Seeing such a display of mindless patriotism made him think this day was gonna drag on forever. After a three-hour drive from Dallas to the place, he just wanted to find his girlfriend and get through this torment as fast as possible. He finally spotted her chatting with a hulking Southern dude, older than both of them, with that corn-fed hick boy look, prom king, varsity team… the whole package. He wouldn’t have given a damn if it weren't for the way she was talking to him—too damn cozy for his liking.

“Hum-hum.” He said, positioning himself next to them.

“Alexander, you made it!”

“How could I turn down your invite, even if it means hours of driving to such a… picturesque event? However, I had the impression that it would be a family event.

“May seem strange to you, city boy, but in towns like ours, community is important; everyone knows each other and has helped one another at some point, so we take every chance to be grateful to each other and to the country.”

Said the muscular blonde man who was with her, wearing a sweatshirt with the American flag on it.

“Alexander, let me introduce you; this is John Paul Sanders; he’s been my brother’s buddy for life, from school all the way to college. Now he handles the accounting for a bunch of businesses in Bushfield, including my father’s.

“So you’re the guy who finally won our Abby's heart? You’re gonna run into some pretty jealous dudes, she’s quite the heartbreaker.” The man said, extending his hand to Alexander, who, wanting to avoid looking arrogant, shook it only to feel his fingers crushed by the giant's hand.

“Guess you must be one of them.” He commented venomously while trying to hold back the tears welling in his eyes.

“Oh no, quite the opposite. Abby and I are cousins by marriage; my wife Susie is the daughter of Trav’s sister, Abby’s dad. Speaking of which, I gotta run, Abilene; Huck is being a handful; the little demon broke your aunt’s favorite vase yesterday. We’ll catch up later,” he said, kissing her cheek before leaving without even glancing at Alexander.

“Interesting type; I imagine there’ll be more. And as much as he says he isn’t, I thought he seemed pretty interested in you.” He remarked as they made their way to the huge backyard.

“Babe, my house was practically a hangout for the football team; my brother’s friends basically lived there; JP and the others are like older brothers to me, and they all still see me as Tommy’s little sister; it’s natural for them to be jealous. Plus, he’s head over heels for Susie, who’s my best friend. Don’t worry about nonexistent stuff.” She said, caressing his arm.

“My dad’s probably in the back grilling, and my brother… oh, look, there he is.” Abby smiled at another blonde man emerging from a covered area full of tables where the crowd would likely feast later. Sporting a muscular, defined physique, with a five o'clock shadow and that dangerous but cute country boy vibe that certainly caught the eyes of many women, he quickly sparked disdain in Alexander. Did these types multiply by binary fission? The feeling of animosity seemed mutual, as the man’s smile vanished the moment he saw who his sister was with.

“Hey, Abbey Road! Looks like the big city hasn’t changed you one bit; I was afraid I’d find you with blue hair, unshaved armpits, and covered in piercings, with some feminist nonsense tattooed on you.” He said, hugging his sister without giving Alexander a single glance, who was taken aback by the nickname her brother used for Abby, as he imagined that a hick ogre like that would reference crap country music about driving tractors and screwing horses while drinking beer or whatever. Only to then be hit with a mix of disgust and rage at the guy's macho comments.

“Shut up, Tommy, you jerk!” Abby shot back, smiling, without really correcting her brother’s remark, then pulled Alexander by the hand and introduced him. “This is Alexander, my boyfriend.”

“Whats up, bro?” Tommy said, extending his hand to Alexander, who, reluctantly after the last experience, reciprocated the gesture only to feel his delicate hand crushed again as the giant flashed him a wicked smile before turning back to his sister.

“Can I ask what you’re wearing? Dad’s gonna flip if he sees you without a flag on; tradition is tradition, Abilene; I thought you knew that, but maybe the big city got to your head.” He said, glancing at Alexander, as if he knew exactly who to blame for that, before continuing. “I’ll call Angie to get you something from her place.” He turned and called a beautifull and very pregnant Latina woman who came smiling toward them.

“Abby! So good to see you! And you must be Alex; she’s been talking so much about you!”

“Alexander, my name is Alexander.” He replied, annoyed, since he hated any kind of nickname.

“Sorry, Abby called you that and I…”

“It’s all good, Angela, mi amor; why don’t you take Abby over to my place to change and let me and my brother-in-law get to know each other better?” Tommy interrupted, putting himself between his sister and Alexander, wrapping his giant arm around the smaller, skinnier man’s shoulders.

“Sure, I think if you guys chat, you’ll become great friends.” Abby said with a smile.

“I’m sure of it, Abbey Road; now hurry up.” Her brother replied, smiling, while his arm’s strength almost crushed Alexander. As soon as Abby and Angie left, Tommy finally released Alexander, looking at him with cold eyes.

“Speak to my wife like that again, and you’ll wish you’d never set foot in Texas… Xander.” He said threateningly.

“Believe me, that wish already exists… Thomas.”

“The name’s Tommy; I’m not some Thomas.”

“How curious, using the diminutive as a proper name.”

“I guarantee you, nothing about me is diminutive.” Tommy replied, flexing his muscular arm. “And you know what curiosity did to the cat, right?”

Ignoring the threat, Alexander continued.

“I just find the choice strange; your parents should’ve done the opposite and left Abby’s name in the diminutive. Where the hell did they come up with Abilene?”

“It was the name of my dad’s mom, so you better watch your mouth, kid. Actually, I think it’s about time you and my dad had a chat; come with me, city boy.” And he turned toward where he had come from. Not knowing what else to do, Alexander followed him.

“You know, Abby’s always had a weird taste in guys; all the guys on the football team from my time and hers would’ve done anything to date her, but she always preferred… well… people like you.”

The audacity of that hick!

“As far as I know, I’m her first boyfriend.”

“Yeah, exactly.” The other man replied with a mocking grin before pointing to a huge, gray-haired man working the grill, wearing only shorts and an apron with the ever-present American flag.

“Dad’s over there; good luck with that, city boy; you’re gonna need it.”

Tommy said, widening his grin and walking away, leaving Alexander to head over to his father-in-law by himself. Travis Johnson, a self-made man in the construction business, started as a laborer before opening his own company, a pillar of the Bushfield community, Abby’s dad, and apparently not too pleased with the figure approaching him, though he forced a stiff smile for the sake of his daughter when he saw Alexander coming.

“Good morning, son; you must be Alex; Abby’s been talking a lot about you.” He said, taking a long swig of beer.

“Same about you, Travis.” Alexander replied, not correcting his father-in-law on the nickname; he knew he was dealing with a man who wouldn’t take kindly to being corrected.

“Mr. Johnson, son; call me Mr. Johnson; calling me by my first name is an acquired privilege.” The man replied.

“Of course, Mr. Johnson; then I ask that you call me by my correct name; I’m Alexander, not Alex.” Since the old man was gonna act that way, he saw no reason to try to please him anymore; it seemed any chance for a good relationship with his girlfriend’s family was shot, and he wondered once more why he was such an idiot to come to this place.

“Of course, Alexander. We have a lot to talk about, but before that, you want a beer? The meat should take a while, and by tradition, women and kids eat first around here.”

“Thanks, Mr. Johnson, but I’ll pass; I don’t drink anything alcoholic, and my diet is vegetarian.”

“Vegetarian? I see… But the beer is all craft, made right here; The Dubois Widow brews it on the family farm.”

“I’m afraid I’ll have to pass on that too, sir.” He said, thinking about contamination and the filth of the pigsty where the old lady probably brewed that horse piss.

“Fine, and I fear we’ll have to move on to more serious matters without anything to grease the wheels.” The father-in-law replied with a voice that was undeniably hostile.

…..

Watching the altercation from a distance was Tommy, sitting at a table with Diego Ramirez, his best friend, snickering at Alexander's pained expression.

“The kid’s shitting himself.”

“Poor city boy. Tommy, that boy wasn’t made for this; I don’t know what got into Abby’s head bringing a city slicker here.”

“Abilene’s always had strange tastes.”

“Hey, asshole, do I need to remind you I was her date to the prom?”

“Only because you were one of my best friends and she knew all her friends would be jealous seeing her with the most eligible bachelor in town.”

“Only because you and our other golden boy, JP, were off at college.”

“Still, it was that night that you and Betty hit it off, and Austin was born; you should thank me for making you take Abby to the prom.”

“Abby herself didn’t seem that grateful; thank God she went to college right after. Which makes me think, a pretty woman like your sister dating for the first time only in her junior year of college is a bit strange.”

“I told you, Abby’s always had strange tastes, as you can see.”

“Dude, your dad’s about to grill the yankee for the barbecue.”

“Would be a better use for him, but the kid’s so skinny he wouldn’t even make a decent serving.” They both burst into laughter, stopping only when a small, dark-haired boy about three years old came running toward them.

“Hey, big boy, come give your uncle Tommy a hug.”

“Austin, come here! Let me see that arm! One more minute and you’ll be bigger than me!”

“I can’t wait to put the kid in pop warner, but there are still two years to go; at least now he has Huck to play with, and Angela’s about to pop with the twins. You’re in for some rough nights, bro; if one’s already a handful, imagine two boys, especially if they inherit my sister’s temperament.”

“Don’t even get me started; if I didn’t love that woman so much… but that’s the burden of a man: providing for the family and understanding when the wife is going through tough times before she gets back to running the household. Speaking of which, how’s Betty’s situation with her mom? The Dubois widow is a tough nut to crack.”

“Imagine being her son-in-law, man. She won’t hear of selling the ranch, but since my father-in-law passed, things have been rough; the cattle and horses need care and Charlene’s not cut out for it, especially with the brewery to run, and Betty’s got our house and Austin… I try to lend a hand, but working as your dad’s foreman, it’s no cakewalk.”

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner? I would’ve found a way to help.”

“You have the bussiness to help manage, a coaching gig at the school, and a pregnant wife with twins, Tommy; a wife who, by the way, is my sister and would kill me if I overloaded you with my problems.”

“Angela knows you’re like a brother to me, especially after we lost Mateo.”

“I know, bro, but think about it; she’s pregnant with twins, two boys; imagine the tension in her head remembering seeing me and him running around the house or playing ball with you and the guys and thinking that suddenly one of them could be taken from her?”

“That’s not gonna happen, Diego; but you know, I think the conversation got way too heavy for a day of festivities. Austin, your uncle Tommy needs a favor; go find uncle Hunter, uncle J.P and Huck for me.” He said, setting the little guy down before looking at his dad.

“Let’s have some fun.”

….

“What I want to say is exactly what I asked: what are your intentions with my daughter? Abilene may be in New York now, but she’s a country girl, wants to be a vet, and you, with all due respect, kid, you don’t belong here.”

“With all due respect, sir, I think it’s way too early for us to be talking about that, but when and if the time comes, we’ll figure it out.” Figure out way to stay far away from here, he thought without saying it out loud.

“You’re not getting it, kid; maybe in the big city things are different, but here we do things the right way. You came to my house with my daughter claiming to be her boyfriend without asking for my permission first, and you have the gall to say you have no plans for a future with her? No marriage or kids…”

“Oh, as for that, you can rest easy; I don’t plan on having kids.”

“Kid, what do you think you’re doing here? What were you expecting to get?”

“I’ve been asking myself the same… wow.”

He started to respond before being knocked over onto a table by two three-year-olds, with a good amount of cold sauce spilling onto his clothes and hair.

“Little brats! And you ask me why I don’t want to have kids… if I catch those little pests…” Alexander said angrily, getting back up.

“What’s going on here?” asked the biggest cop Alexander had ever seen, a gigantic black man about the same age as his brother-in-law. “Any trouble here, Travis?” He continued, his face serious, though with traces of a teasing grin on his full lips.

“Nope, not at all, Hunter. The kid just lost his cool a bit, that’s all.”

“I think so.”

“Sorry, officer.”

“We respect the kids in this town, kid, and you were talking about my godson and Travis's great-nephew, and the other one is Travis's son’s nephew.”

Alexander looked to the side and saw one of the brats on the lap of the blond ogre who was apparently married to Abby's cousin, and was staring at him menacingly.

“Let it go, Hunter; the kid just lost his head. Speaking of Tommy, where is he?”

“I saw him just a bit ago with Diego at a table a little further up, Travis.”

“If you could take the boy over there, he’s gonna need to clean up and change clothes.”

“Sure, come with me, boy.” The giant said, grabbing Alexander by the arm and dragging him like he was one of the kids.

“Be careful with that mouth of yours, boy; J.P. is a cool guy, but Diego is hotheaded and also the dad of the other of those boys you recklessly threatened.”

Alexander, dazed by the events and indignant about how he was being treated, but also fearing for his own safety, said nothing, allowing himself to be led by in diection of another giant, this one a Latino of the same age as the others. What the hell was in the water in this damn town that created monsters like that? He had no doubt that one day those little brats who knocked him over would grow up to be just as big as their progenitors.

“Hey, Diego, bro. Where’s Tommy? Abby’s boyfriend is looking for him.”

At that moment, the other man was chugging a beer from a pint that looked more like a jug that even one of his giant mitts couldn’t hold on to alone. He finished taking a huge gulp and passed the jug to the side before grabbing his own cup, letting out a loud burp, and bursting into laughter. How could Abby stand living with those kinds of people?

“Oops.” He said, wiping his mouth with his hands. “Tommy went to meet Angie and Abby to find out what’s taking them so long. If you want, I can walk you over there, man.”

“No, thanks; I think I’ll find my way on my own.” Alexander replied, making a disgusted face, finally breaking free from the cop and heading toward the front of the community center before anyone could stop him. He walked quickly, determined to find Abby and tell her he was leaving that place right then and there, and after that, they’d deal with it when she got back to New York for their senior year.

He only stopped walking when he saw his brother-in-law strutting down the street like he owned it, with an air of superiority and arrogance that, if Alexander had the slightest bit of self-awareness, he would’ve recognized as the same vibe he himself typically radiated when not caught in such an embarrassing situation.

“Hey, bro. The guys told me you were looking for me; looks like you’re in need of a little help.”

“I just want to find Abby.”

“Sure, she’s at my place with Angie; let’s head over there, clean up a bit, and I’ll lend you some clothes.”

“I can grab a clean outfit from my car.”

“Nonsense; I must have some clothes from when I was younger that should fit you; that way, we avoid ruining any more of your expensive threads if another accident happens.”

Not wanting to admit he was planning to bail on this place as soon as possible, Alexander opted to follow his brother-in-law to his house. Arriving at the place, a big and cozy house, Tommy asked Alexander to strip down to his underwear.

“Angie will kill me if I mess up her floor, man. Women, you know how they are, especially with pregnancy hormones…Wait here while I grab the clothes, and then you can take a shower.”

“Where’s Abby?”

“Oh, I forgot to mention; she and Angie went to the house next door; Sara, Hunter’s wife, who you met a bit ago, is about to pop; she’s a couple of months ahead of Angie and couldn’t make it to the party today. But I assure you, Abby will be back soon.” He said, handing Alexander a towel. “Dry off with this while I get the clothes; once you’re clean, you can sit in one of the chairs.”

Alexander did as he was told and, feeling surreal, sat there in his underwear while waiting for his brother-in-law to return. After a few minutes, Tommy came back with a change of clothes, which he placed on the coffee table while heading for the kitchen.

“Take a look and tell me what you think.” He said while heading toward the kitchen and coming back with two cups of beer. “So, what do you think?”

“There’s no way I can wear this, man; it’s way too big for me, and I don’t wear tank tops.” Alexander said, holding up a tank that looked more like a sheet, along with a pair of shorts that would easily fit two of his legs in one of the leg holes.

“Why don’t you take a sip of beer, Xander?”

“I already told you my name…”

“We don’t poison our drinks; feel free to drink.” Tommy cut in, then took a sip from the cup he prepared for Alexander before bursting into laughter at seeing his brother-in-law automatically lift the cup to his lips and take a swig for the first time in years. The beer was cold and tasted just like he remembered from the few times he’d had it before.

“Good on ya, Xander. Isn’t it way better this way, acting respectful toward your hosts?”

Alexander was shocked at himself; why the hell did he do that?

“What… what?”

“Hush, boy. You’re about to listen; oh, how I love this part! You have no idea where you’ve gotten yourself into, city boy. You know, I made a promise to my mom a little before she passed; I’d do everything to protect Abby, and I’ve kept that promise ever since in ways you couldn’t even imagine. The things I’ve had to do…But why don’t you let me show you?” Tommy said, and suddenly Alexander found himself in another place, walking alongside Tommy wearing clothes he’d never be caught dead in: ragged shorts, a tank top, and flip-flops, pretty much the same thing Tommy was wearing. Up ahead, walking down the same alley they’d just taken to get to Tommy’s house, was a younger version of himself, all sweaty, shirtless, in shorts and running shoes.

“That’s me on summer break before my senior year in college in Knoxville; I got in on a football scholarship, but I didn’t qualify for the NFL mainly because of what happened a few months before this day you’re seeing. My best friend from school, Mateo, had just died in an accident, and that hit me hard. I couldn’t accept the injustice of the world; first, my mom’s illness, then a stupid accident; it felt like life was just out to punish me. But on that same day, life handed me an unimaginable gift.” He spoke as they approached the backyard of the same house they had just been at. Sitting out front on a bench was a figure that stood out from the rest of the place. An effeminate kid with long blonde hair wearing a feminine outfit—maybe a trans woman? Alexander tried to formulate a question only to realize he was completely unable to speak.

“Hmmm…”

“Let me handle this, Xander. That’s Dylan, one of those weird kids who don’t really know what they are; a rarity around here; you won’t find any of them in town today. I didn’t dislike him; he was polite and considerate, in his last year of school, and undoubtedly eager to leave a place like Bushfield behind once he graduated. Strangely, he and Abby formed a friendship even though she was three years younger than him, and if I could say anything in his favor, it’s that he treated my sister like she was his own. So understand, what you’re about to see was born from frustration and mourning; before this, I might have made a joke or two about the kid, but generally, we treated each other with a modicum of respect. But seeing him there, a dude who refused to be what nature intended, someone who was giving up his masculinity while Mateo, a real man, a warrior, my brother, had left this world, that awakened something in me—an incandescent rage. But not just that; look.”

“What are you doing standing there, fag? We don’t want someone like you dirtying our home and our image.” The younger Tommy said.

“Tommy, come on, that’s not how you…”

“Shut up, you little shit, you fake woman; how can it be that God takes the men and leaves something broken like you…”

“Tommy, that’s enough; you’re not gonna talk to me like that; I get that losing Mateo hit you hard…”

“Don’t you dare say his name with that filthy mouth, you queer… I wish you were like him so I could beat you up and not feel like I’m hitting a woman.”

And then it happened; for a moment, it seemed like Dylan was going to burst into tears, and then, in the blink of an eye, where he had been, was now an older man just past twenty, clearly of Latin descent, with well-defined muscles, a bit dazed for a moment.

“Mateo?” the younger Tommy asked.

“Hey, I miss him too, bro, but you’re talking to the other twin.” He said with a smile. Then the illusion shattered, and Alexander found himself back in Tommy’s living room, unable to move or speak, just thinking about the impossible thing he’d just witnessed.

“And that’s how Diego came into my life; what a surprise it was to find out that to the rest of the world, he’d always been Mateo’s identical twin, and any mention of Dylan raised eyebrows and brought laughter; there’d never been one of those in Bushfield. I spent a lot of time trying to figure out what happened, without getting any answers. It wasn’t until over a year later, when I was back in town working as an assistant coach at the high school, that the situation recurred. Abby was starting her junior year and got involved with a troubled kid; Hugo Lafévre had transferred from New Orleans and was the worst kind of troublemaker; he organized protests and rallies against everything I’d been taught to value; he was pro-abortion, anti-gun, and railed against what he calls police violence. He had zero respect for authority figures. I had to do something.”

Again, Alexander found himself in a scene against his will. This time, he was wearing a coach’s uniform, just like Tommy was now, as well as a younger version of he, talking to a young black kid who looked at him with a mocking gaze.

“I have no idea what my sister sees in you; you’re insubordinate and disrespectful.”

“You’re just scared of losing control; for people like you, it’s all about control.”

“Without control, our society falls apart.”

“And what’s the problem with that? It’s about time to dismantle the society you’ve built.”

“Then I think it’s about time you man up, kid.”

“We have very different definitions of what it means to be a man… coach.” The kid replied before breaking into laughter, not realizing the fury building in the older man, who seemed ready to pounce on him, but amid the laughter, the boy seemed to get scared, and puff; suddenly, the giant black man Alexander had met earlier stood before the two, resuming the laughter and speaking.

“… that’s style and lets my abs breathe, and you’re really gonna say anything against a cop, bro? Especially when you need my help to train these little troublemakers; I would’ve been a professional edge rusher if I hadn’t chosen to be a cop.”

“In your dreams, bro…” the younger Tommy replied, still dazed before the image dissolved again.

“It was the transformation of that little shit Hugo into my bro Hunter that made me realize what happened to Dylan wasn’t just a coincidence; I decided I was gonna explore these skills of mine. Slowly, I started hunting down the worst types in town, the punks, the deviants, and the insurgents, and turned them, one by one, into productive members of society. Abby, for her part, finished high school without getting involved with any other undesirable types. But then came her time to go to college; she could’ve gone to Austin or Knoxville, but no, she had to go to the Ivy League, Columbia! What a dumb idea, but my dad agreed, and I wouldn’t dare challenge him. Everything went well for a while, until her first summer break. She showed up here with some older, fat, scruffy dude, who smelled like weed, a wannabe poet who wanted people to call him Sartre; I didn’t even bother to find out his real name; it didn’t matter.

A new vision, quicker than the last. He and Tommy, dressed in Levi's jeans, flannel shirts, and cowboy boots, watched a Tommy dressed exactly like them, who in turn was watching the man Tommy had described, clearly high, turning into the well-groomed blonde guy Alexander met that morning.

“And that’s how J.P. came to be, John Paul, get it? Bet you thought I was some dumb redneck, didn’t you? By then, I didn’t even need to think much to get what I wanted, and I always made sure to keep Abby’s boyfriends close to me because my sister has a knack for finding the most annoying types who end up becoming my best projects. Now you… with you, she outdid herself… with you, I’m gonna have a blast.” He said with a sinister grin on his face. “You can speak now; the last words of a dying man, or did the cat get your tongue?”

For a moment, it really seemed like Alexander was going to say something, but what came out of his mouth wasn’t words; a slimy piece of flesh he couldn’t tell if it was his tongue or something else pushed its way through his lips, prying his teeth apart in an unnatural way and slithering across his face like a giant worm. Soon after, he felt his abdomen contracting with insane intensity, while his face contorted and his skin burned and bubbled in a transformation much slower and more painful than those he had witnessed; not that he had time to think about that amidst all the agony. As the environment around him seemed to darken, only illuminated by the source of heat he had become. Then the pain in his abdomen became unbearable, and while he squeezed it, desperately seeking some relief, it felt like his hands were sinking and merging into the muscular fabric that had just moments ago seemed so solid. But it wasn’t just his abdomen; his arms and legs grew and bulged as he threw himself forward, trying to puke, only to feel his mouth stretch unnaturally wide, while his expanded body was drenched in sweat that seemed to evaporate instantly, only to be replaced by another torrent. Just like the pain began, it stopped, only to start again within his head; it felt like his brain was melting, thoughts, ideas, his very identity turning to mush. He didn’t even notice he now had well-defined abs and toned arms and legs or that his hair had gone from red to a dark brown almost black, while it was drenched in sweat. His physique was nowhere near the monstrosity that was Tommy and his minions. But that was about to change; as his mind emptied of any memory or sense of reality and he threw himself back, leaning against the chair, his arms grew to monstrous proportions, his abdomen became a brick wall, and his chest swelled, while a beard sprouted on him, and finally his thighs ballooned like cords of pure steel, and his calves achieved the angular form of someone used to pushing them through strenuous workouts, while his feet grew absurdly large, emitting a powerful funk that could only be rivaled by that coming from his armpits.

“Almost there, Zander, bro, almost there.”

Upon hearing that name, his head exploded with images, color, and sound, with memory after memory flooding into his mind in such rapid succession that if any trace of Alexander had remained, it would have been instantly suppressed. Then, much faster and more painlessly than when it began, it ended. Throwing himself back, the brute that had replaced Alexander was panting, grinning stupidly, staring blankly at nothing.

“Zander, man, you good? Why don’t you take a sip of beer to cool off?” Tommy asked with a seemingly concerned tone as the light returned to the environment, and the brute in front of him seemed to shrink a bit in size while the sweat that was pouring down his body became just a sheen on his bronzed skin, as he automatically lifted the cup of beer to his lips.

“Ahhhh, I really needed that, Tommy, bro. That was a rough night.” The man said with a grin.

“I can imagine from the screams of the chick you had in my guest room. And from your smell, you reek, bro.”

“Hey, the ranch was way out, and you know how my mom is. Plus, you gave me the key to your house and told me I could use it in case of emergency. Damn, I really stink.” He said, scratching his balls over the old, worn-out underwear he was wearing, lifting his hands to his nose and sniffing them before bursting out laughing.

“Man, an emergency isn’t banging every skank in town in my guest room; you’re lucky my dad didn’t say anything.”

“Uncle Trav doesn’t care about that.”

“Usually not, but it’s not a good idea to do that when his daughter’s at home.”

“Abby’s here? Fuck!”

“As if she didn’t know your habits, man. But I’d be more worried about the fact that you were supposed to be helping my dad with the barbecue and that your mom had to deliver the beer herself; if it weren’t for me and Diego helping out, I’m sure she would’ve stormed the house and dragged you out by your hair.”

“Damn, Zander Dubois, you’re a complete idiot! Man, I need a shower and some borrowed clothes!”

“And what do you think this is on the table, you moron? Don’t worry; we’re the same size.”

“And I didn’t know that? We’ve been borrowing each other’s clothes forever. So who’s the moron, college boy?”

“Get your ass in the shower already, you asshole; I’ll be waiting with a cold beer.”

Zander took a quick shower, knowing it wouldn’t be enough to wash away all the stink from the night before, but he didn’t care as much about that as he did about disappointing Travis; the man had been like a second father to him after his own dad died and helped him with the ranch’s organization while J.P. kept the bills in check. He’d never been the smartest guy, though he knew how to take care of the cattle and the horses, and had his mom’s talent as a brewer. Besides he was one hell of a hunk, of course, he thought while admiring the muscles earned from years of ranch work and playing football in school, the dream of becoming pro ruined by his father’s untimely death and the need to take on his responsibilities, not that he thought he’d have much chance of keeping a decent GPA. But that was all in the past; he had a good life, although his mom bugged him to marry and give her grandkids like Betty had already done, especially since he was the last single guy in his friends group. Worse of all he felt that call every time he played with Austin, the kid would be a hell of a player one day, maybe good enough to achieve what his uncle and dad couldn’t.

“Damn, you are a damn stud, Zander Dubois!” He gratified himself, admiring his muscles in the bathroom mirror before putting on the shorts Tommy had lent him.

“Thanks, bro!” He said walking in the living room and grabbing the cold beer cup Tommy offered him, taking a long sip, wiping his mouth with his hand, and letting out a small burp.

“Hey, Abbey Road!” Tommy waved to someone behind him, making him turn around startled. Only to find no one there.

“Asshole!” He said, punching his friend’s arm.

“You should’ve seen your face, bro!” Tommy replied, cracking up, with Zander joining in.

“That was a good one, bro.”

“Put on the shirt and let’s roll; my dad’s waiting!”

…..

“Sorry for the wait, Uncle Trav; I wasn’t feeling well.” Zander said, taking off his shirt and putting on an apron, if Travis Johnson was throwing a barbecue like this, he wouldn’t be the one to break tradition.

“How odd; you seemed pretty lively last night, Zander.” Travis said with a mischievous grin.

“I’m sorry about that; if I’d known Abby was home, I wouldn’t have done what I did.”

“Don’t worry about me, but I gotta say that ain’t gonna win you any points with her.”

“What do you mean?”

“I ain't born yesterday, kid! I see the way you look at her, and all your buddies are already hitched while you’re still bouncing from bar to bar, hooking up with the first girl who crosses your path just to avoid any commitment.”

“I... I…”

“No need to say anything, son; I’d be more than happy to have you as a son-in-law; I’ve watched you grow up and I know what kind of man you are. But I gotta warn you, something tells me Abby's gonna show up here with some slick city boy who thinks he’s hot stuff just ‘cause he came from the big city.”

“Uncle Trav, it’s almost time for her to finish college and she’s gonna be a vet; there’s no better place for her to work than here, have some faith!”

“I have faith, my boy, but a father’s heart doesn’t lie.”

“In that case, you can count on me and the guys to knock some sense into any city punk who shows up around here.”

“I know that, son. Now enough chit-chat; we’ve got plenty of mouths to feed, let’s get to work!”

In the afternoon, when everyone was well-fed and the booze buzz had taken over a good chunk of the minds present, Zander found himself in the spacious field next to the center, watching kids of all ages play while keeping an eye on Austin and Houston the twelve years old son of his older sister who lived with her husband in Fort Worth so his sisters and brothers-in-law could dance a bit in the hall. And when the not so little guy scored a touchdown in the middle of the fun and ran to hug him, he couldn’t help but feel emotional.

“It’s about time you had your own.” He turned and came face to face with Diego, who was waving and smiling as he watched his own son run over to Huck and J.P., who at that moment was teaching his kid how to hold the ball properly.

“You have no idea what that feels like!”

“Was it my mom or Betty who told you to say that?” He asked, even though he felt a longing inside to be part of that world, to have a little version of himself running around, taking care of the horses, tossing the pigskin in a packed stadium on a Friday night.

“Both!” Diego replied, laughing. “But the boys care about you too, man; what are you waiting for?” He asked as Zander watched Abby play with one of her cousins’ daughters.

“Sometimes we get so focused on something that we forget to see the bigger picture, bro!” Diego continued, turning Zander towards the dance floor full of young women, some sneaking glances his way. “A guy like you ain’t gonna have any trouble finding the right woman; I’ll keep an eye on Austin and Houston; you take advantage.”

….

After dancing with several of the single ladies at the party, Zander sat down to catch his breath while watching the ebb and flow of people, lowering his glasses and checking out a very interesting girl that passed by. Until a whistle startled him.

“Zander Dubois, was that you hitting on Caroline Matthews, a girl from a good family?” Someone said, placing a beer cup on his table.

“What??? Haha, hey Hunter, bro! I'm glad your shift is finally over. And unfortunally, the time to settle down comes for everyone. I want my kids to grow up alongside yours and the other guys’, having the same life I had.”

"So our lone wolf has finally decided to join the pack, thinking about adding a Dallas or a Knox to your mother's list, bro?" Commented Tommy approaching while bringing out snacks and dips and placing them on the table. "The rest of the guys are coming, they're just going to drop the boys off with their moms. We're going to have some boys time. Caroline Matthews then? She's hot, man. But I admit I had hopes between you and Abby."

"Me too, but it's like I said, you and Hunter are going to be parents soon, Huck and Austin are already growing up, I want my kids to grow up with them. And Abby..."

“I get it, man. I just worry about her; she’s always had a strange taste in guys.”

“Your dad mentioned he’s worried she might show up with some stuck-up city slicker.”

“And what did you tell him?”

“That if some snobby city boy shows up here with Abby, you, me and the guys would take care of him, country man style.” Zander replied emphatically.

“Thanks, man. I know I can always count on you!”

“Dude, we’re family. And one day, Abby’s gonna find a guy who’s just right for her; I’m sure of it.”

“I believe that too, bro. And it’s gonna be someone just like you and me!” Tommy replied with bright smile.

[skythealmighty]

Alexander the Terrible - a 1987 TMNT Separated AU

I've come to throw my hat into the ring! Hello, hello hel-lo out there! (And a special hi to @getindumdums, who I know was very interested in this.) I made this AU because I'm pretty fond of '87 TMNT, and I haven't seen a Separated AU for them yet. So, here we are!

I'm kinda gonna explain some parts of this AU in detail on their own, so hold your horses, it's gonna be a hot minute here.

Design

There's not much changed in terms of design for- mostly everyone, but I did want to explain a few design choices with our brand 'new' turtle! First and foremost, I designed him like everyone else was designed- for an action figure. He takes a lot of inspiration from Shred-head, mostly with the arm guards and facemask, but my main goal was to cover most of him in dark colors to indicate 'villain'. I know that's not always the case, but you do have to admit you would assume that at first glance.

Dynamic

Heroes

Raphael, Leonardo and Michelangelo stand alone against the forces of evil! They're a great team, even if they do butt heads sometimes... mostly Raphael and Leonardo. Leonardo is the leader, Michelangelo is the humor and heart, and Raphael is... the street smarts!

Stepping up in place of the missing Donatello as the logical one, the whole team is slightly more morally gray. Without a turtle van of their own, sometimes the next best option is to hotwire one for a little bit, or just get there on foot. Leonardo tries to stop this from happening, most of the time, but he concedes to Raphael when he points out that it's a necessary evil. They're even more careful to stay out of the public eye because of that, since while they are heroes, public opinion of them is extremely mixed.

That being said, Raphael is still kind of alone on his distrust for humans. Even if he is listened to, he's bitter when they have to help some people- and he's generally a little more snappish with more responsibility on his shoulders.

Leonardo is also a bit more cautious as a result of Raphael's mild paranoia leading their logic, and Michelangelo is a little less likely to take things at face value. He's still a massive optimist, as is Leonardo, but the general wariness of the team makes for a massively different dynamic.

The show's tone is generally a tad bit heavier because of this, opting to actually have teaching moments and morals in the form of common sense lessons. It's both a tiny bit more edu-tainment and also aimed towards a slightly older audience- that doesn't stop it from being a hit with the kids, though!

Villains

So... what's up with Donatello, then? He's clearly with Shredder, and on the side of evil. His vindictive streak is given a chance to shine, and he often takes things to the max, almost comedically, but he's still sharp as a tack and almost more formidable than his sensei.

Just one thing- Shredder's the one to pick him up since the very beginning. He was the one who spilled the ooze on them, true- and in this timeline, he aimed to take one of those creatures for himself. That being said, Shredder wouldn't name a turtle after a renaissance artist- he's more of a war history buff, as seen with the Punk Frogs.

He instead names the turtle Alexander, after the great warlord in Rome.

(Alexander as a name was chosen because it uses all sharp-sounding vowels, rather than Donatello's round vowels- this sounds obscenely stupid on paper, but say the names out loud and you'll understand.)

Alexander is first and foremost Shredder's student, but he quickly picks up on Shredder's nature and learns to snipe back when disrespected. He's the favorite student, too- his literal creation, smart and savvy, and with a mean streak to match. Being the favorite, he's allowed to get away with a lot more, and though it wasn't the case at first, Shredder begrudgingly views him as something akin to an equal.

He has a lab, as well- Shredder, the traditionalist, doesn't take any upgrades to his precious armor (other than maybe a communication line in his helmet), but he lets Alexander make other sets of armor for fun, and sometimes wears them. Alexander also keeps eye on scientific progress- this time, Stockman isn't brought in to be the sole inventor Shredder relies on, but rather Alexander's lab assistant. Their relationship is strictly professional- Alexander is a bit disappointed that someone with so ingenious inventions is a massive pushover, and Stockman is more than a little terrified of Alexander, but starts to learn to admire him over his time there.

Even after the accident that turns Stockman into a fly, he still has a kind dismissal to Alexander while he hates Shredder. Alexander, blunt as he was, was never unnecessarily cruel, so he's mostly exempt from Stockman's schemes. Hooray?

As for their dynamic with the heroes, Shredder still despises them and is salty they didn't choose his side, Alexander mostly dislikes them because they trash his inventions, and Raphael gets on his nerves easily. He's fine with Michelangelo, tolerates Leonardo, and has a rivalry with Raphael. He's also aware of their relation, while the Turtles are not. (Raphael has a hunch, though.)

Plot

What, plot? The '87 show doesn't have that much plot! I know, but as with any Separated AU, there's got to be some way they meet up again other than the daily Saturday cartoon fights- no, not just meet up, reconcile. So, here's sort of how it goes:

It's a slowburn! ...NO NOT IN ROMANCE. EW. Let me explain:

Alexander and Raphael start out hating each other. Know Bratty and Catty? Remember their Deltarune versions, specifically? Yeah, kind of like that. They're extremely similar and that's why they get on each other's nerves! It's an easy pattern- every episode Alexander is in, you can count on him having some witty snipes shared with Raphael. Except...

Eventually, the insults turn to banter without them realizing, and they're closer than ever. Alexander lets loose that he thinks they're all related on an off-hand joke, and that gets Raphael thinking. Was he supposed to be with them from the start?

Obviously, this doesn't change what ended up happening, but he knows Michelangelo and Leonardo would be upset if he didn't at least try to win Alexander over to their side. Thus begins the "Convincing Arc".

[Allan please add details]

The Convincing Arc ends with Splinter's help, really. He's the one who takes the time to sit beside Alexander and talk, and while Alexander cares for Shredder, he starts wondering if Shredder really cared for him beyond their plans and lessons.

He begins to poke at that relationship, prod for answers, and he eventually finds out that while Shredder did 'care' for him, it never was anything but shallow. He didn't want to lose Alexander, true, but it was never because the government could take him away, or because he was worried he'd get hurt. Worried at all, really. It was because he would be seethingly jealous of whoever else had him.

Had him. Like some sort of tool.

Alexander left the next day, walked into the Turtles's sewers, and declared himself a home there. He would not help them fight Shredder. He would just be going stir-crazy without any companionship, and this was the first thing he thought of- allegedly.

(He doesn't miss Michelangelo's genuine happiness at him being there, Leonardo's immediate acceptance, or Raphael's relief. He also doesn't miss that it takes Shredder three days to realize he was gone.)

As for what comes next? A rocky relationship, a healing dynamic, and a lot of interpersonal conflict and fluff.

I don't have anything planned ahead of this, but if I were to start answering asks in character, it'd be in the middle of the Convincing Arc, so you guys could see that in action! Feel free to send asks about that, by the way. I'd love to answer (eventually).

Fun facts:

Alexander still loves purple. He just tends to like darker shades

He's also a massive astronomy nerd and wants to explore space

Raphael has not killed a man on screen. However, off-screen is... up to viewer interpretation

Alexander has killed off-screen too- mostly lab intruders. He's jumpy

The Punk Frogs get along surprisingly well with Alexander

Since Shredder is a war history buff, Alexander is also a little bit of a history nerd, but mostly with inventions and the arts. Ironically enough, his favorite historical artist is Donatello

Michelangelo loves to force everyone into movie nights. When Alexander is added into the mix, he clings to him

Having not grown up with the other turtles, poor Alexander is a little thrown off by their pizza tastes

Irma starts showing up a lot more when Alexander joins the good side

Baxter Stockman is eventually convinced to leave everyone alone!

oops this got way longer than i thought

[sins0fthefather]

Wrath.

Jeff the Killer HCs:

General HCs:

Full Name: Jeffrey Alexander Woods (Only responds to Jeff though. Best case scenario if you call him his full name is he’ll ignore you, worst case scenario is him flipping his shit on you)

Age: 22-25 (Based on where in the story a character study/fic takes place)

Birthday: September 22 (Older than Liu by 2 years)

Wasian— Father is Chinese, mother is a born n’ raised Texan

Biromantic, Demisexual

Has autism, C-PTSD, BPD (contributor to his auditory hallucinations), NPD, ASPD, and BDD

Right Handed

6’1 (185~ cm)

Covered in burn scars, most noticeably on his chest, forearms, and back

He uses white facepaint, it makes his face’s silhouette look “cleaner” in his eyes

His cuts have healed up for the most part, although he’ll have moments where he relapses and cuts at them again. The ends will also sometimes tear if he does something like laugh too hard.

Very touchy with other people, but he despises being touched first. He prefers to initiate physical contact- both because of the control aspect of it and because of his general distrust of others.

His sense of humor waxes and wanes from extreme condescension to the most morbid sentences you’ve ever heard. Half of the time it doesn’t even sound like a joke.

Reckless driver, cursed with terrible road rage

Smokes cigarettes, his brand of choice is Marlboro

Drinks vodka straight as if it were water

I feel like his favorite band would be Tool or Slipknot. His music taste is just metal and dad rock.

Was brought up in a Catholic school for most of his life, although he obviously doesn’t keep up with the practice anymore. This is a big catalyst for why he develops a god complex however since he “has authority over life and death”— something unique only to gods from what he was taught.

Very observant of the people around him. He memorizes speech patterns, demeanors, even the way people walk. He’s gotten to the point where he can read people and their intentions well before they’re explicitly stated, making it much easier for him to spot a lie. However this also makes it much easier for him to tell when he’s truly pushing somebody’s buttons, and there’s nothing he loves more than pushing people past their limit.

Always stealing glances of himself in any mirror he walks past

He’s an opportunistic killer. Limiting himself to patterns clashes with the creativity and the thrill of the moment to him. However, there are specific elements of a kill he will often repeat if the mood strikes him. An example of this would be often including strangulation (albeit usually not the direct cause of death) to reflect his acquired need for control in all moments of his life. Sometimes he will also pose bodies in a “prayer” position to call back that god complex I mentioned.

He doesn’t always kill people immediately. If someone catches his eye, usually because he finds them beautiful in some aspect, he’ll take it a step further. He has no problem with being patient when the situation arises for it- stalking the person, learning their habits and schedules, the whole shebang. He’ll then slowly start to ruin said person’s life, isolating them through the slaughter of those closest to them and destroying any sense of peace and security they once had. He’s the sound that goes -bump- in the night. He’ll toy with his food until he eventually grows bored, disposing them like all the rest. After all, how dare someone else try to be beautiful in his presence- a punishment of the highest order is necessary.

His anger can be very… explosive. He doesn’t stick around very long for enough people besides victims to see it, but it can be as unpredictable as his own kills. It’s worse when he’s silent in his anger however, since with the former you at least have enough of a warning to brace yourself.

Backstory-Centric HCs:

(TW: csa, murder, mutilation, religious trauma, general stuff)

Takes place in college. Jeff is 22 at the start while Liu is 20.

Instead of being a one-off instance, Jeff and Liu have been subjected to bullying/borderline harassment since middle school. This builds up Jeff’s gradual distrust of others and leads to him shutting himself off from his peers.

Most of said bullying revolved around their mixed race situation. It only got worse as Jeff shut himself off and Liu became a people pleaser.

The two didn’t even have peace at home, since their parents were sexually abusive and excused it through their religion. It was “all apart of god’s love” as they said. This + the bullying leads Liu to develop DID and kickstarts Jeff’s resentment towards their parents. It also led Jeff to develop a twisted belief on what love and beauty is since god apparently “favored” the beauty of his parent’s form of “love.”

On one particular instance of bullying/harassment, a small group of people he grew up with planned on jumping and mugging Jeff behind a bar. Things escalated when Jeff retaliated in self defense, beating his aggressors with a nearby pipe found laying against a dumpster. He didn’t leave unscathed however, since one of the attackers dropped a lighter into the flammable materials (alcohol, trash, etc) that had been scattered in the fight, planning on making everyone go down in that moment. Jeff managed to survive (albeit with severe burns along his body) after being found by an employee who went to go check out the noise/smell of smoke, but the others succumbed to their wounds.

While in a heavy state of shock and psychosis (paired with being drugged up out the wazoo at the hospital) his usual unchecked auditory hallucinations worsened, leading his mind to trick him into believing this situation was a sign from god- that he was supposed to survive while his tormentors burned. Paired with his already twisted concepts of love and beauty, he began to believe that his burns were part of god’s plan to make him more beautiful- because he was favored.

This only gets worse when he’s released from the hospital’s custody due to a neglect in checking his mental state. After being sent home with his family and therefore being thrown back into the abusive environment he hoped to escape when going to college he ends up experiencing a psychotic break, mutilating himself in the process.

When his parents catch him, they attack him. In their eyes he had disgraced them, no longer upholding the “beauty” of heaven that they enforced. He ends up killing them in self defense, but furthers it by mutilating their bodies in an act of defiance induced by his break. He believes he’s outdone god in this moment, deluding himself into thinking he’s on the same level (or even better) than god.

While overcome by his psychotic break, he ends up severely wounding Liu after he wakes up to check out the noise. It becomes a conspiracy on if Liu survived or not since his body was never found by authorities.

The reason why Jeff continues on his spree after these instances is the feel of control he gets. After being forced into submission by those around him for so long, he finally feels a stable sense of power over those he deems as less than him.

He ends up wandering throughout the states after this, hopping from town to town. He never stays in one place for long, although sometimes he’ll revisit his home town to give the urban legend fanatics something to fear again.

[kissitbttr]

i just had this shower thought but i just know that muñeca will be everyone’s fav wag when frat!mig makes it into the nfl😩 like i imagine her being an ABSOLUTE icon (it girl energyyy) having edits of her LIKE UGHHH ! what would be migs thoughts about this??

miguel bagged the baddest bitch of all time, everyone knows this!!!

she’s definitely the it girl without even trying!! if anything, she tries to step away from the spotlight as much as possible! one of the things that made her famous aside being nfl!miguel’s girl is that her fits goes HAAARDDD. she could dress up or dress down. classy or casual. glamorous or laid back. anything!

i would like to think that one of her moments that went viral was when she attended his first game. when the other WAGs were dressing up for the occasion, she was there in his old college jersey and her jeans. hoops dangling in her ears with one leg up in the chair, just sipping on her cocktail in a plastic cup. she didn’t realize the camera was on her because she was far too fixated on the game.

it was a simple moment but that didn’t stop the whole world to be in love with miguel o’hara’s girlfriend! not only is she drop dead gorgeous but funny too!

“your boyfriend, miguel o’hara did amazing out there! he scored a touchdown! how do you feel about that?”

“man tbh, I didn’t really see it. just came here for the food and drinks. but good for him though”

the whole interview was funny af. some audience loves her sense of humor while others don’t. but she doesn’t gives a shit. she knows its all jokesy jokes. she’s proud of miguel’s achievements. she knew all of the hard work he’s put in to be here. and she did cheer really loud when he TDed,

her popularity only seem to be increasing when another baddest bitch in the game, Rihanna reached out to her personally and they become friends! muñeca was fangirling obviously, but she’s not going to let badgalriri knows otherwise she’d be embarrassed. especially not the really hot dream she had with Riri back in college,

miguel notices the amount of attention his girl is getting and he feels this sort of pride in him knowing that she really stole everyone’s hearts by absolutely doing nothing major. just like she did to his back in junior year. he knows his girlfriend is a heartstopper. everyone’s crush. obviously. he doesn’t forget the time where he had to compete with other guys lining up to be her man on campus.

muñeca is not just a pretty face but her heart is pure. I think that’s one of the reasons why people are loving her. you’ll hear from other people talking from miguel’s team, the fans, reporters, close friends, employees etc that she’s nothing but a sweetheart. not one bad thing to say about her🥺🥺

and the tiktok edits?? MAAANN, her edits are beating his by mileeesss!! he gets jealous here and there though. not because his edits are decreasing but mainly because everyone is falling for his girl and giving her so much attention that he just wants her all to himself,

he’s proud of her. not because of the trophy wife thing people are making it out to be but she’s just as successful as him! she has her own ballet studio, have her own classes to teach, friends with rihanna, bella hadid, getting offers from vogue, calvin klein, and shared partnerships with a few of famous designers. the late karl lagerfeld, alexander mcqueen, swarovski, donatella versace to name a few,

to everyone, she is indeed an icon. timeless being. but miguel had already seen that one coming before all of this happened🤍

[oliversrarebooks]

The Rare Bookseller Part 68: Oliver's Speakeasy

Previous > Masterlist > Next

tw: mind control, blood drinking

October 1925

"You have to relax a bit, Oliver," said Roger. "If you're holding your breath while I lace your corset, it will be dreadfully uncomfortable."

Oliver let out his breath and tried to calm his nerves. "I'm not used to corsets. It's not anything I thought I'd ever have to wear."

"That's how I felt as well, but vampires do love their low-necked ballgowns on men and women alike. It's another thing I've become accustomed to -- out of all the adjustments that come with being a vampire's thrall, dresses are minor."

"That's true enough. I can only hope I look acceptable in it."

"Given how your master looks at you, I believe he would think you're fetching in a flour sack." He began to lace the corset tight. "You're quite devoted to pleasing your master, aren't you?"

"I find that I can't help myself. Isn't that the effect of the enthrallment?"

"One effect, certainly. Although after twenty years, I hardly know where the enthrallment ends and I begin."

Oliver nodded. He didn't need twenty years to feel that way. He already felt as though he hardly remembered himself before enthrallment. "You seem very comfortable with your master."

"Comfortable, yes, you could say that. It's my duty to take care of him, and it's an easier life if you keep a sense of humor about it. I suspect I've become fond of him apart from the enthrallment. And I know my master appreciates my efforts." He finished lacing the corset and put a hand on Oliver's head. "Your master appreciates you as well, I'm sure of it."

"I can only hope so."

Roger helped him put the gown on, a turn-of-the-century style done in midnight blue with embroidered roses, one tailored to his exact measurements. He then fastened a delicate gold chain adorned with sapphires around his bare neck. Oliver stared into the mirror. He was dressed like a princess or a wealthy heiress, looking nothing like himself. It was a stark reminder of how much he'd been changed since the night of his capture.

It had only been weeks, and yet his former life was already receding away from him, never to return.

Oliver then assisted Roger in donning his own gown, an ostentatious red number that had very clearly been chosen by Roger's master and not Roger himself, and they made their way up the stairs to their masters' chamber to help them prepare as well.

Alexander and Fitz were lounging on the bed when they entered, but they both stood up, wide-eyed, at the sight of the thralls. Fitz whistled. "Fantastic. Lex, are you sure you want Oliver to go out like that? He's going to turn every head in the place."

"Let heads turn. If they touch my thrall, they'll pay the price," said Lex with startling fierceness. "It's no different from when I went out with you."

Fitz laughed. "Somehow, I don't think Oliver will end up grievously insulting and humiliating a vampire in front of an entire ballroom."

"It's almost a pity," said Alexander thoughtfully. "Come here, Oliver, I wish to take a better look at you."

Oliver stepped closer to his master, who took him by the shoulders and swept over him with an appraising eye. He tilted Oliver this way and that, and took his chin in his hand to meet his gaze. Oliver felt just like that fateful night in the auction house, when Alexander had decided to make his purchase, when Oliver first felt his hunger and desire. Even though his master had taken blood the night before, the undercurrent of hunger and desire was still pressing down on him.

"Master, hold still while I fasten your cummerbund," said Roger, who had started to assist Fitz while Oliver was losing himself in his master. "It's difficult to fasten when you squirm."

"You should be helping me with my attire as well," said Alexander, running his fingers down the side of Oliver's face.

"Yes, sir." Oliver felt as if he were in a dream as he began to help his master prepare, slipping the neatly pressed coat on his shoulders and tying a neat bow around his neck.

Just as the vampires were finishing their preparations, the doorbell buzzed, and Oliver ran down the stairs to answer, careful not to trip in his embroidered slippers. He flung the door open to Miss Lily, dressed in a floral pink frock and tall pink heels, the sort of fashionable thing Oliver saw in department store windows. Behind her, Miriam, also fashionably dressed, poked her head out shyly.

"Oh, Oliver, you look positively dashing! This dress suits you so well," said Miss Lily, cradling his chin in her hands. "Where are your masters? They had better be ready, because I don't want to leave the carriage waiting long."

"Well, well, well, if it isn't my bad luck charm," said Fitz, hanging over the balcony.

"Oh, Fitz, dear, thank goodness you're here. Lex hasn't cracked so much as a smile since you last left, even with this delightful thrall at his beck and call. You'd better have relieved him of his malaise."

"You want me to relieve Lex of his malaise?" said Fitz, sauntering down the stairs. "You might as well ask me to remove the water from the ocean."

"I do see your point," said Miss Lily. She leaned in towards him and whispered conspiratorially. "Has he told you about his plan?"

"His daft plan to get all of us tortured? Naturally. And I support it, of course, because I'm as daft as he is."

Miss Lily sighed. "Of course you do. I expected nothing less."

"My ears are burning. I think you must be talking about me." Lex was walking down the stairs now, with Roger following behind.

"Oh, Roger!" Miss Lily went to him and squeezed him, a fondly dazed smile appearing on the thrall's face. "I do hope you've been well."

"Never better, Miss Lily," he said dreamily. Oliver wondered if Roger had been enthralled by Miss Lily as well. And on that note…

"You look lovely, Miriam," he said politely to the thrall, who was clinging to her madam and looking perhaps a bit uneasy at all the commotion.

Her face lit up in a smile. "Oh, thank you, Oliver. You look very handsome as well!"

Miss Lily clapped her hands. "Now that we've got everyone here, let's all pile into the carriage, shall we?"

Next thing Oliver knew, he was crammed in next to Alexander in the carriage, which was only just barely large enough to hold all six people.

"I've been looking forward to this," said Fitz, shamelessly snuggled up to Alexander's other side. "It's been ages since we've been out to the Tiger's Eye."

"Lex and I were there not so long ago," said Miss Lily. "If Lex gets as drunk tonight as he was then, you're going to have to help me carry him home, Fitz."

"Oh, with pleasure."

"If I might ask, sirs…" said Oliver, fidgeting with his dress hem, "What sort of place is the Tiger's Eye?"

"Why, it's a social club for vampires and their thralls. One of the most popular in the city," said Miss Lily. "Everyone who is everyone puts in an appearance now and then, even recluses like your master, and we all bring our favorite thralls, all dressed to the nines. There's entertainment and stiff drinks and even h'ors doeuvres for the thralls. You'll just love it."

Oliver nodded, far less certain than Miss Lily that he would love it. He'd never frequented bars and clubs, finding them loud and awkward at best. At least he wouldn't be going there alone, but could stay by his master's side.

"Make sure you stay close to me," said Alexander, as though he read Oliver's mind. "Don't entertain any vampires who show an interest in you."

"Yes, sir."

They stepped out of the carriage in front of an unassuming restaurant that seemed as ordinary as any other. Clearly human patrons could be seen through the window, enjoying Italian dishes. "This is the Tiger's Eye, sir?" asked Oliver.

"It's in the basement. The restaurant is simply a front run by the same vampire who owns the club." Alexander pulled him close as they walked to the entrance. "It offers cover, and brings in human money and human blood."

"I see, sir."

A mouth-watering scent filled his nose as the group stood before the maitre'd's station. Miss Lily moved a flap on her dress to reveal a ruby pin, and the maitre'd waved them to the back. They all descended a rickety spiral staircase, the sound of music and laughter growing louder.

The Tiger's Eye club was much larger than the restaurant upstairs. All of the tables were low, with the patrons sitting on piles of cushions. While some of the crowd were wearing contemporary fashions, like Miss Lily and Fitz, a good number of them were dressed in formalwear from decades gone by, much like Oliver's ballgown. More alarmingly, some of the patrons were dressed in very little, as though they were burlesque dancers. It didn't take long for him to realize that these were thralls, kneeling on the cushions and gazing up at their vampiric masters with adoration.

There was a stage at the opposite end of the club where a jazz quartet was playing. Waitstaff flitted among the tables, and like many of the thralls, their outfits were absolutely scandalous. Their glassy eyes and sleepwalking mannerisms indicated that they were heavily enthralled as well, and there were prominent bite scars on their necks and shoulders. In one of the back corners, a well-dressed vampire was drinking from a waitress.

With Alexander, it was sometimes easy for Oliver to forget what sort of situation he was in, and feel like he was perhaps an ordinary servant to an eccentric rich man instead of thrall to a vampire. His current surroundings made him intensely aware of his situation, surrounded by potentially hostile vampires and semi-conscious human slaves. Alexander, of course, wasn't distressed at all, taking in the scene with a smile on his face.

All vampires are dangerous -- that's what Roger had told him.

Nonetheless, Alexander was by far Oliver's greatest chance at safety, and so he shamelessly clung to his master as they walked through the club. He could feel the eyes of leering vampires on him and see their hungry grins. His master's grip tightened. It seemed like an eternity before they arrived at a table with a "reserved" placard on it.

The vampires arranged the cushions and made themselves comfortable, Alexander beckoning Oliver close and pulling him halfway into his lap. Next to them, Fitz flopped over into Roger's lap as the latter sighed.

"The music's good tonight. Who's playing?" Fitz asked.

"They're regulars here. The trumpet player is an older vampire -- I've trained up a few of his thralls, and he has a great sense of humor. The others are all fledglings, more or less…"

Oliver found he couldn't really concentrate on what Lily was saying over the din of the crowd, deafened by the sound of his own heartbeat and blood rushing through his ears.

"Say there, I can't help but notice what an excellent thrall you've brought with you."

Oliver nearly jumped out of his skin. The vampire addressing Lex was a larger man in a checkered suit.

"Thank you," said Alexander with a hint of threat. "He's my most treasured possession." And Oliver's heart twisted to hear himself described that way.

"Where do you get a fine thrall like that? I'm new to the area, just moved from down south, and I'm looking for some fresh blood."

"Oh, then I'm the one you want to talk to," Miss Lily interjected. "I handle conditioning for all of the finest high-end auctions and private sales in the city. I can't promise you'll find one as good as Oliver here, as thralls like him are in short supply, but I'm sure I could help you find something to your taste."

Oliver felt Alexander's hold on him relax as the vampire in the checkered suit started to happily chatter to Miss Lily about thrall sales. He noticed that, in addition to Miriam sitting in her lap, Miss Lily was now surrounded by several other adoring thralls, draped contentedly against her shoulders and over her legs.

"Who are…?"

"The thralls Miss Lily conditions are often drawn to her," said Alexander, toying with Oliver's hair. "This happens whenever we go to a place openly frequented by vampires."

"Good evening, sirs."

Oliver looked up to see a waitress dressed in frills that barely covered her most private areas, her eyes dull and glassy. He blushed and looked away.

"We have many top quality spirits available, as well as an assortment of blood on tap, including rare specialties. If there's anything I can fetch for you, esteemed sirs, it would be my pleasure to serve."

Alexander didn't seem the slightest bit put off by the waitress's plight. "I'll have a dry red, whatever's recommended."

"Certainly, sir."

"A light white wine for me," said Miss Lily.

"I'll take a sidecar," added Fitz. "And whatever beer you have on tap for my thrall."

"Right away, sirs."

"I can order something for you when she returns with the wine," said Alexander, and Oliver realized that the waitress had, of course, only asked the vampires what they wanted.

Oliver looked up again now that the waitress had walked away. "I don't drink, sir, but if I could have some tea, that would --" His eyes went wide and his breath caught in his throat. No, it couldn't be. But it certainly was.

While Oliver had been busy trying not to stare at the waitress, another thrall had arrived to cuddle Miss Lily. She was wearing a highly fashionable teal evening dress with elaborate gray embroidery and fringe, her neck and wrists were dripping with gold, and her red hair was done up in a curled bob. She looked nothing at all like the last time Oliver had seen her, but Oliver knew he'd never forget that face, her fear burned into his mind.

"Emily!"

Previous > Masterlist > Next

Next week: Emily!

Oliver last saw Emily all the way back in the auction house.

@d-cs @latenightcupsofcoffee @thecyrulik @dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night @wanderinggoblin

@whumpyourdamnpears @only-shadows-dwell-where-we-are @pressedpenn @pigeonwhumps @amusedmuralist

@vampiresprite @irregular-book @whumpsoda @mj-or-say10 @und3ad-mutt

@sowhumpshaped @whumpsday @morning-star-whump @silly-scroimblo-skrunkl

@steh-lar-uh-nuhs @pirefyrelight @theauthorintraining @whump-me-all-night-long @anonfromcanada

@typewrittenfangs @tessellated-sunl1ght @cleverinsidejoke @abirbable @ichorousambrosia

@a-formless-entity @gobbo-king @writinggremlin @the-agency-archives @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi

@enigmawriteswhump @bottlecapreader @whump-on-a-string @whumpinthepot

@cinnamoncandycanes @avvail-whumps @tauntedoctopuses @secret-vampkissers-soiree @whatamidoingherehelpme

@strawbearydreams @ghost-whump @tippytappytyping @natthebatt @fire-bugg14

@fuckcapitalismasshole @slightlydisturbedbeans @paperprinxe @demetercabingreen-thumb @the-broken-pen

@pokemaniacgemini @jumpywhumpywriter @basica11ywhumped @anoontjecanush

[askmalal]

The Primarchs and their Brothers, Part XII continued.

1. The Lion:

“What practical use (aside from suicidal stupidity) that the Emperor has for my brother is beyond me. It would be a mercy to give him peace.”

2. [Redacted]:

“He could have been the greatest of us. He might still be if he were given the proper care.”

3. Fulgrim:

“He knows nothing about the art of war. And yet, he is a master of its application.”

4. Perturabo:

“Anger management issues.

5. The Khan:

“He deserved better. He deserves better. His sons are exceptional soldiers.”

6. The Russ:

“And they have the temerity to call -me- the barbarian.”

7. Rogal Dorn:

“His sons hold a wall with exceptional determination, and can be relied upon to do their duties, even if they prefer a more aggressive stance. Their father, however…”

8. Konrad Curze:

“Run.”

9. Sanguinius:

“He has taken to calling himself an angel. I believe this is evidence of a sense of humor. The man is by no means stupid. Not by any metric.”

10. Ferrus Manus:

“He has an exceptional grasp of armored tactics. He is a master of close assault with heavy infantry, for that matter. His negatives do not outweigh his utility as an ally.”

11. [Redacted]:

“There, but for the sake of the Butcher’s Nails, goes Alexander. Here, but for the sake of a loving father, go I.”

13. Roboute Gulliman:

“He understands the theoretical, but cares nothing for it. “

14. Mortarion:

“He calls what I do cowardly murder. I call what he does considered butchery.”

15. Magnus:

“That mind…. That mind…. is it broken? Or rebuilt to the originally intended purpose?”

16. Horus:

“My brother is a capable warfighter. Little is credited to his resilience… if he were not mindful, powerful of will, supremely intelligent… then what is called a tragedy would long ago have become an atrocity.”

17. Lorgar:

“The Emperor has a fondness for dogs, it seems. You would think they might get on better, wouldn’t you?”

18. Vulkan:

“It is not so much that he does not care, as much as it is that he cannot care.”

19. Corvus Corax:

“Another liberated slave. I do not pretend to know why the means of his liberation was chosen as it was.”

20. Alpharius Omegon:

“He is what is needed. Our enemies are sometimes brutal monsters. To defeat a monster, you sometimes need one of your own.”

[thataddylady]

Analysis: 'To Sir Phillip with Love' What do Philoiseers love about Eloise x Phillip?

So on to the final part, what do we like so much about this pairing and this book? This book has the vibe of Persuasion by Jane Austen, Charlotte Heywood x Alexander Colbourne from Sanditon, or Keanu Reeves and Sandra Bullock in The Lakehouse.

This is for the late bloomers who thought they needed to give up because there was no chance of finding their match and ended up finding the love of their lives.

Eloise was a character I related to. From the strong personality, the rambling and the anxiety about life passing me by, to the prank war with the kids that eventually breaks the ice. I saw myself in her. Eloise is a character with a high opinion of herself but she is very aware that it's not a shared opinion. Which is isolating. Her family loves her but her brothers avoid her and her sisters don't share her interests. No one has the stamina to keep up with her. She's looking for peace and companionship over love.

But then she meets Phillip. He's isolated, has been mostly ignored and passed over most of his life. He is an untapped mine of humor, intellect, tenderness and love. He is desperate for help with his children and his life, it's true, but he is also touch starved and desperate for someone to talk to. he reaches out to Eloise because through their letters to each other he thinks they could find friendship and companionship. Ultimately they want the same things.

What they both end up getting is a champion in their corner who sees them, understands them and appreciates everything they bring. Phillip is a character who has never really had anyone take an interest in him or his interests. Eloise is a person who has always been told that she is too much, too pushy, too talkative. Neither of them are a good fit for society life.

It's the fact that Phillip loves listening to Eloise talk, and genuinely adores pretty much every aspect of her personality. He loves and values how bossy and opinionated she is, he loves how she expresses herself. He loves how intelligent and expressive she is, he loves how capable she is. He is not cowed or put off by these very strong parts of her personality. When her brothers make a joke at her expense he is the first to tell them to knock that shit off, despite the fact that they nearly killed him when they first meet. He loves the color and noise and energy she brings to his life and he nurtures it in her. This is something Eloise has never had with anyone else, not even her family.

For Phillip, Eloise is able to give him a clearer and healthier perspective on his life. The first time anyone tells him "No your father was a monster and I wish he was alive so I could thrash him." is Eloise. The first person to say "I don't think anyone or anything could have made Marina happy," which is a fact (it was beyond his ability as she was clinically depressed with severe postpartum depression) is Eloise. She is the first person he is able to talk to about his marriage and lift the weight of bearing it alone. Eloise is the first person to tell him his children need him and miss him because they love him.

It is something you think is obvious, but he legitimately doesn't realize it. If you look at his history, it makes sense that he would also see his children as people who are stuck with him because there was no one else. His life has also taught him that no matter how hard he tries, he will never be enough, never be what someone needs or wants. When he marries Eloise, he thinks he's gotten them the parent they always deserved, someone better than him. The idea that they genuinely want to be around him as well is not something he has considered.

His children, who are super clever but mischievous and adorable think Eloise hung the moon and basically agree to make her their leader.

Essentially, Phillip and Eloise both become more of themselves but better in a very supportive, loving, wildly passionate relationship. Like they are having sex on the regular. If you think Colin is obsessed with Penelope, buckle up because you haven't seen Phillip Crane. Their love story is the adage that 'everything about you the wrong person couldn't handle is the exact thing the right person has been waiting for'.

The critique I hear a lot is readers wanted Eloise with someone more exciting who challenges her. Phillip isn't a reformed rake with rogueish charm and toxic masculinity who needs a loving touch from the right ball buster to remind him to be human. And I can see the appeal for that kind of hero, especially for Eloise. But would that hero be a better match for Eloise, or is it simply a more entertaining story with a flashier hero for a flashy heroine?

The truth is Eloise is surrounded by people who challenge her. What she lacks is acceptance vs tolerance and genuine appreciation for what she's been told are flaws. Her brothers hate shooting with her because she's too good. Phillip doesn't care, he loves to see her be her awesome self. Her brothers find her too domineering, Phillip loves that she always has a plan and an opinion to share. Phillip isn't a pushover incapable of standing up to her. But he isn't going to fight or argue with her for the sake of it. He'd rather help her do what she wants to do and then make love to her all night afterwards.

Eloise is a person who is in constant battle with the world, with opinions and forces she cannot control but certainly would like to. Does she really need someone to challenge her at home or does she need someone who sees her as she is and accepts her fully, giving her a warm soft place to land? Does she need a sparring partner or a quiet champion who adores her, nurtures her, and is ready to step up to smooth her way when she needs it?

That's all I got folks.

@whatsaweekend this is it!

[ask-norman-alexander-lotf]

hey, alexander. i’ve heard that you have been asking around about the relations of the others on the island. normally, i wouldn’t bother with such trivial matters, not to mention wasting my breath on… something such as yourself, is not ideal. but, it’s difficult to ignore something so, glaring. especially when you’ve been asking about me and… ripley.

i know, it’s hard not to talk about me, but this is really a new level of low for you, alexander. for someone who claims to be so friendly, so saint like? it’s in a way ironic with how you’re spreading like a plague. asking questions and whatnot, getting tangled in things that don’t involve you. it’s pathetic, really. i mean, how about i ask you about your obsession, oh sorry, perhaps it’s infatuation? with simon? i won’t ‘hough, i’m not like you.

as for me and ripley ‘hough, since you’re practically begging to know. we’re acquaintances at best, or perhaps he’s a lapdog? sometimes the lines blur. he bothers me and i humor him. i don’t know what you’re looking for honestly, you look desperate to dig up something that isn’t there. with your bare hands no less, how futile. careful now, wouldn’t want your fingers to start bleeding.

but anyways, i seem to have heard something else as well. that you wanted to chat with me? what do you want? since i’m already here, i might as well. better hurry it up, i don’t have all day.

— everette ainsworth

Do not dare to call me such a disgusting label when you yourself may as well be one.

Gosh, you are hard to talk to.

This is why I have you to have a chat with me here, privately. I was merely concerned with what is happening around the island as I sense some interesting developments that seem to come up lately. Don't fool me, Ainsworth, both of us know what I mean, and I am here to find the truth.

For your information, I am being a nice, caring, and thoughtful person by actually taking care of the island and the people that are in it. I don't want the devil to taint all of us, and surely, you should do the same.

Now, calm your horses down and keep your attitude to a minimum. I will do another meeting where I will talk about this concern. I will ask Ralph, but if he doesn't budge, then I do not care, I will still go through it.

[bluedalahorse]

In additional support of weird for YR fandom (weird looks a number of ways!)

Yes, I am super in support of @enjoythesilentworld’s post about how 2025 YR fandom should invest itself in weird fic.

I’d like to take that idea and elaborate on it and argue that “weird” fic (meant in the most complimentary way) doesn’t always have to be synonymous with crack fic or humor. It certainly can be, and at the same time, there’s also lots of other moods and genres a “weird” fic can take on. So I mean this in an encouraging way for those of you who don’t write crack or humor: you too can write “weird” in your own way!

Some of my favorite fics in fandoms before YR (I have been in many fandoms over the years) were the ones that made me go “I didn’t know I wanted to read a fic about this, but this story got me interested anyway.” They’re often ones that poke at the boundaries of commonly established and well-liked fanon, or took a deep dive into less-written-about characters in ways I didn’t expect. And then the author might choose an odd bit to commit to, but they commit to it nonetheless.

I try to take this approach in my own YR fics. I don’t have the comedic timing to be a good crackfic writer, and my particular brand of humor more often involves highlighting the absurdity of social norms. I tend to think my writing niche is bittersweet—sometimes leaning bitter, sometimes leaning sweet. The “weird” premises I like are less along the lines of putting the characters in a strange new world or situation and more just asking what I can do that’s a little outside the ordinary for fandom. Or, to put it another way, the ideas that feel less safe or marketable, or like they aren’t going to have an audience at all.

For instance, Five Times Felice Ehrencrona Was A Bad Friend was written during a time when a lot of fandom was praising Felice for being a good friend. Which she is! But I said to myself, surely Felice isn’t patient and kind with all of her friends all of the time? Maybe a fic about that wouldn’t be fascinating to other people, because Felice’s good friend status is a thing people enjoy about her, but it’s fascinating to me. So I committed to the bit and wrote it. I’m glad I did.

Or take Makes the Medicine Go Down. Ew, a story where Vincent like, gets straight married and reproduces and divorces and tries to be a good dad in spite of all this? Ew ew Blue, you’re going to take Vincent’s feelings seriously? So weird, right? But the idea wouldn’t leave me alone, and it gave me the big feelings, and I committed to the bit and wrote it. I’m glad I did.

August continues to grow in a positive direction after canon and deepens his friendship with Nils in university while Kristina tries to use August to make up for past mistakes? Swell the Numbers. Glad I committed to the bit because I really liked writing that fic.

None of these fics are weird in the sense that they are crack, but they are “weird” in the sense that they don’t feel super “safe” or “marketable” to YR fandom. Maybe they are safe after all, but I didn’t feel they were while working on them.

I spend a lot of time craving fic that pushes past the usual fandom archetypes, and focuses on characters who aren’t written about as often. Like, what if Felice doesn’t want to be a good friend and a listening ear all the time? What if Rosh has a day when she isn’t confident and sporty, and completely forgets how to talk in front of a pretty girl? What if Ayub loses his patience and gets into a big fight with Simon? Does Sara feel occasional waves of jealousy toward her friends, even after her transformative first year at Hillerska, and what do those waves of jealousy look like? What would it look like for August, as crown prince, to get a pet he ends up feeling really attached to and soft about? What’s the shy side of Maddie’s personality like? We know she’s brash and daring in English but so shy about Swedish she won’t speak it. What if Hillerska reopens without the main five, and Alexander and Henry and Walter are the new third year boys now, and they’re having serious conversations about what the way forward is? Do they rebuild the old system or try to push forward with a new one, and do they even agree on what leadership looks like?

You could write these ideas as crack/humor, or you could also dive into them as a more serious story. Maybe it’s a stretch to call these “weird” ideas, and maybe for a lot of people weird only means crack. But I wanna argue that weird can also just mean unusual, and unusual can mean deepening a character in unexpected ways that you’re worried no one is going to like. Well. I think we should all lean into “unusual” in 2025 too. Maybe more people will like it than we think!

[meanbossart]

Responding to more asks!

Again just want to thank everyone for enjoying my weird little man and the weird little things i draw, i genuinely did not think my sense of humor and uh horror-y persuasion would jibe with so many other fans of this game... Which, come to think of it might have been my mistake, because 90% of us did pick dark urge and have a great time with it, to be fair. Seriously, anyone else was shocked by how hard larian went with the horror themes and gore descriptions in that game? That's probably what won me over LOL who knew fantasy could be so nasty, god bless them.

THANK YOU though i mostly wanted to point out that i never did any BTD art, so you MIGHT be confusing me for someone else! Unless you're speaking more generally just to reference an specific time online. Either way, im glad you enjoy what i do now! Similarly to the last ask i also did not expect people who knew me from my old stuff to be into my newfound interest in elves LOL

Hell yeah man, i haven't really been edgy like that for over a decade but i can't believe experiences like it shaped so much of the internet in our age bracket. Ridiculous lol. Thank you so much for sticking with me for that long, cheers to growing into mostly functional adults!

ALSO that comic was actually barbatus' work but i don't blame you for the mixup hehe

Wanna give this one a little 1-on-1 attention to say im glad my weird style has such an unusual upside for you 😭 that's something i never considered. Also i wasn't aware of that condition so you've given me a little something interesting to learn more about now.

I wasn't aware of that manga at all and to be completely honest i am usually a little put off by the typical manga art style, but this one specifically seems REALLY pretty and expressive, im obsessed with the cover that keeps coming up on the google search. I might have to take a peek at it! Thank you for the recommendation and i hope you have a lovely day

WRINKLY FUCKERS UNITE naturally people should draw however they want to draw, but i'll always be happy to hear that someone looked at my stuff and thought "hmmm im gonna make my grimaces uglier" LOL

I wasn't aware of wraith but it looks like a riot LOL I actually take great inspiration from the works of Jason Shawn Alexander and Sean Murphy! Also, even more so, I would say my boyfriend's (@barbatusart) highly expressive art style has influenced mine a great deal throughout the years. Thank you so much for the message!

[romanovsonelastdance]

Hello!

From what I understand, is it true that the Vladimrivich and Alexandrovich branch of the Romanov family didn't get along. I know Nicholas II and Alexandra weren't really fans of Grand Duke Vladimir and Maria Pavlova the Elder (although Nicholas likely got some of the hate from mother dear since Maria Feodorovna and Maria Pavlova were social rivals. Although also apparently the Vladimirovichs were jealous of Nicholas and Alexandra position and "schemed" against them?). I think also Nicholas rejecting the Kiril and Victoria Melita match and then them marrying against his wishes, strengthen the animosity. Anyways, I'm writing a timeline for the Romanov monarchy to survive a bit longer (for now) and for Alexei im seriously contending Princess Elisabeth of Greece and Denmark or her older sister Princess Olga as brides for Alexei since they were "good chums" with him as a child quoted by their father Nicholas of Greece and Denmark. But realistically speaking, I'm a little puzzled how can it be accepted or allowed by Nicholas. Sure I don't think he has anything against his Greek Cousin or his daughters but they have a connection to Vladmiriovich (grandfather is Vladimir and uncle is Kiril 😜). While Alexandra has already died in my timeline due to heart complications, there is likely one obstacle Maria Feodorovna (I feel like she would have some involvement in her grandchildren marriage prospects. ), although the Greek Girls are technically on her side of the family so not sure if she would be that upset about them being Maria Pavlova's Granddaughters. Do you know if Nicholas and Alexandra'e opinion of his cousin and his daughters? And if this may outweigh the fact that the Vladimirovich branch would be absolutely taking advantage of this potential match between Alexei and Elizabeth/Olga?

The Vladimirovichi just kind of never got over how close they were to getting the throne. Vladimir was the third brother, but so was Nicholas I, so Vladimir grew up thinking maybe there was a chance. Then the oldest brother, Tsesarevich Nicholas (Nixa), died. And the second brother, Alexander, considered renouncing the throne to marry a lady-in-waiting, but was ordered to go to Denmark and propose to Nixa's fiancee, Dagmar of Denmark. They ended up actually having a happy marriage and became Alexander III and Maria Feodorovna. But Vladimir knew how close he had gotten. And then years later when Alexander III and his whole family survived a train accident, Alexander apparently said something to the effect of "How disappointed Vladimir will be when he hears we survived." And he wasn't wrong, really, because Vladimir's wife Maria Pavlovna allegedly said, "We'll never get a chance like that again."

So, yeah. Not like, great relations.

But! Everyone LOVED Prince Nicholas of Greece. He was supposedly Maria Feodorovna's favorite nephew, and was a close cousin/friend of Nicholas II. They were "Greek Nicky" and "Russian Nicky." Greek Nicky was a lot of fun, known for his sense of humor, but also for his artistic talents. He was a gifted painter and signed his works as 'Nicolas Leprince."

The two Nickys with Elena Vladimirovna in the middle.

Elena Vladimirovna (Ellen) was somewhat less beloved, she was snobbish and haughty but also devoted to charity work, and there are plenty of photographs of her and her kids with NAOTMAA, so there didn't seem to be any hard feelings at all. Whatever Nicky and Alix felt about Vladimir, Maria Pavlovna, and Kirill, they seemed to be on good terms with Greek Nicky and Ellen. So I think they would be happy with Alexei marrying one of the girls. They're Orthodox princesses with an impeccable royal pedigree including Romanov ancestry. And honestly? It might actually solve the Vladimirovichi's problem. They want the throne. Through one of Ellen's girls marrying Alexei . . . they'd kind of get it? I mean, indirectly, but still a descendent of Vladimir's would end up on the throne. They might chill out after that!

And it's still a thing with them! The current pretender to the throne is Maria Vladimirovna, Kirill's granddaughter!

[mcytblrconfessions]

I remember when Technodad was first becoming active and sharing stories, and one that really stuck with me was his comparison of techno and himself to alexander the great and philip ii of macedon. it also helps that techno's relationship with his father reminds me a lot of my and my dad's own relationship, with sharing the same sense of humor and nerdy interests with my dad and me being the eldest child in my family. but i keep thinking of the fact that my dad actually named me after alexander the great (cassandra, which is apparently a female variant) and especially since lately ive been exploring the idea of being genderfluid/genderfluid and i just, i think for my name on more masculine days i'd want to go by alexander, to be closer to my dad's original intention (as im tired of people associating me with the trojan princess) and to honor technoblade. i don't want to share my real/legal name on my own blog which is why im sending it here, but yeah. thank you technodad, and thank you techno, for being a part of my journey of discovering my identity, even if I decide not to keep the name later on. i think i'll come out to my dad the next time i see him