#BECAUSE ENGLISH ALREADY EXISTS ON THE EARTH AND SOME NOTES THAT CHARACTERS WRITE AND IN MAFIA TOWN

[the-cookie-of-doom]

Episode 2: “She”

Pear really deserved better. Like, I feel for Mike and his situation, I feel for Peem, but damn. She really got the shittiest breakup. Not literally died over it levels of bad breakup, but still. So much of what happens in this series is so unnecessary. If Mike had been a little less selfish, the tragedy could have been avoided. Not even brave! He didn’t need to come out to break up with her! But he wanted the picture perfect life with a secret lover on the side, and unfortunately, that’s just now how things work. That’s what makes it such a good tragedy; you see where these characters could have gone right, but they have believable reasons for where they went wrong, instead. 

So, when discussing why ghosts exist/haunt the earth, Peem says: “I think there are two things, either caring, or holding a grudge.” Which in his case, it’s both! In the first episode, during their kissing scene in the drama class, Peem looks downright malicious. He’s making Mike feel what it’s like to drown, what he himself felt, and enjoying Mike's terror. He’s laughing at it. So when this scene happens, it’s easy to think Peem is only there over a grudge. Except… when we get to the third episode, we also see some tender moments between them. He still cares, too. 

Peem is also a possessive little thing. He knows he’s the other woman, but he’s happy to physically get between Mike and Pear when the three of them are on the couch, and she wants to trade places. He refuses, she leans around him to complain to Mike, and Peem leans forward and blocks her. Meanwhile Mike is hiding behind Peem, who picks up a book and holds it in front of both of their faces, Peem leaning in to Mike and physically cutting Pear out. The whole thing is played like he’s joking, they’re all laughing, but… for Peem, it’s more. He doesn't give up his spot beside Mike (and Mike doesn’t move to join Pear.) Peem is staking a subtle claim, and Mike is letting him. Because while Peem is possessive, Mike wants to be wanted. Not possessed, because he refuses to let Peem actually have him. But he gets a thrill from watching Peem keep him away from Pear. Whether or not you think the feelings for Peem were any deeper than surface level lust + convenience, he likes the attention Peem gives him. 

Side note, the English lesson scene made my brain hurt. Sympathies for anyone learning it as a second language, bc oof. 

Another side note, Peem is so painfully, obviously in love with Mike.

Look! How tender they are!! 

I love this entire scene, because this is one of the times where we see Mike being fully, genuinely himself, and he’s a terrible flirt. He can’t even help himself. He’s making all kinds of innuendos (“maybe we should do something to help us wake up, then come back to read''), lowkey kabedon’s Peem by climbing over him after already asking him to hand over his guitar. He teases Peem for being a romantic when Peem flirts back, then offers to write him a song (Moment, my beloved ;_;). There is so much longing in this song, a desire to be close, to not let go, forever. And there’s a promise in it, too, the song ending with a repeated “There will always be you and me together”. That’s all Peem wants, reassurance that Mike will still be there for him, even if he stays with Pear. And it’s reciprocated! Mike wants to be with Peem. He just can’t admit it in any serious, concrete way. 

Then here we have another example of Peem taking the initiative physically. Mike makes what could be taken as a confession, so Peem comes closer, like Mike is asking him to do; lays on his shoulder while he sings, kisses him when he trails off. Even when Mike is being flirty, he’s all talk, no action. 

However, the scene does end with Mike laying Peem down to keep making out with him, technically taking initiative for the first (and only) time. As we’ve set up with their give-and-take, Peem rewarding Mike when giving him affection, Peem then chooses this moment to tell Mike he loves him. Mike, predictably, doesn’t respond. He hesitates, then kisses Peem again. He doesn’t give an answer one way or the other. If he doesn’t return Peem’s feelings, then he’ll lose him. But if he does, he’ll have to face all of the things he’s repressing. All he can give Peem is the physicality of their relationship. And Peem once again meets Mike halfway; instead of demanding a response, he accepts what Mike is willing to give him, because it’s better than nothing. 

Interestingly, this very sweet scene is where everything goes to hell. Peem tries telling Mike off because Meen, their friend sleeping in the other room, will hear. Mike laughs it off and says it doesn’t matter because he’s asleep. Cut to Meen very much not asleep. This continues the pattern that when Peem puts himself out there, when he puts his trust in the things Mike tells him, he’s punished for it. Mike tells him everything’s going to be okay, and he wants to believe it, so he follows him down the path of his own destruction. 

Gonna pivot over to Mike, once again, being a terrible, incorrigible flirt. 

Peem: Mike, do you still want more sausage? Mike: Up to you. Do you still want to give it to me?

I hate this joke so much T_T But also, it is hilarious, and Mike is such an incorrigible flirt, this is exactly the kind of dumb shit he would say. 

Bottom. 

If you check out THIS gifset, we can see that Peem is the one leading things in their relationship. It happens on Mike’s terms, sure, but Peem is presumably the first guy he’s ever been with. So naturally Peem would be the one to more or less take charge. He’s the one pushing Mike into the table and taking his clothes off, while for the most part, Mike isn’t moving. Aside from that scene on the couch, Mike just. Lets this happen to him. I think a large part of that is a desire for plausible deniability on his part. He flirts relentlessly, but vaguely. Any comment that could approach a confession is dismissed by a joke. He wants Peem, but so long as he’s not an active participant in their relationship, he can pretend like he doesn’t. 

Back to the pool scene, Mike isn’t expecting the kiss. He’s walking away when Peem pulls him back. He’s (very) into it, but he didn’t ask for it. In the BTS interview Jeff said it was like he was being passive/attacked (lol), which he explains as being because he chickened out/didn’t know what to do when the director told them to just go for it. Adorable, but also it does play nicely into Mike’s reluctance towards letting himself be with Peem. 

Now. Let’s talk about Mike’s relationship with Pear. D/t the non-linear storytelling, and my not paying attention to throw-away lines, and a weird translation at the start of the ep, I didn’t realize Mike and Pear were dating until this scene!! RIP to me. Anyway. 

This just breaks my heart. Look at her expression, compared to Mike's. She already knows that this over and he has no idea. She isn't even angry, she's resigned, she's already accepted it.

Pear deserved so much better. It’s her 3 year anniversary, and she gets to celebrate by finding out her boyfriend has been cheating on her for god knows how long. And Mike is so determined not to face any of his problems, he refuses to see that she is Not Having A Good Time. Playboy can’t charm his way out of this one, though. It’s so sad, too, because the way she looks at him in some shots, she clearly wants to believe he really loves her. He’s certainly acting like he does. She’s a very similar position to Peem in this scene; both of them want to know Mike loves them, but Mike is incapable of being fully with either of them. 

Just like I do think Mike has genuine feelings for Peem, I also think he really loves Pear. I think he cares very deeply for her, and I don’t think he wanted to hurt her. But again, he’s shown time and again to be a very selfish character, and she recognizes that. Rather than choosing to believe he loves her and pretending she doesn’t know about Peem, she breaks up with him. (Good for her!)

Even when Mike finally does recognize that she’s upset (only once she says she wants to break up, forcing him to see her), he dismisses it. Laughs and deflects, the same as he does with Peem, because he doesn’t know what to do when confronted with EmotionsTM. And honestly—Pear handles this with the grace of a queen. She gives Mike a simple explanation: things aren’t working out, we should break up. She doesn’t blame him for cheating on her, doesn’t yell, doesn’t even tell him she knows about Peem. She probably recognizes why he’s cheating on her instead of breaking up with her first (wanting the safety his relationship with her provides, while experimenting, which feels incredibly dangerous), and tries to let him maintain at least some dignity and plausible deniability. If anyone asks, they could just say things didn’t work out and move on. She could have easily, and justifiably, raked him over the coals. But she doesn’t. She’s giving Mike the chance to bow out. 

Of course he doesn’t take it. He either takes her home, or follows her there (assuming they’re all living in the same dorms?), demanding answers the whole time and getting the silent treatment. He asks her, “But if we don’t talk to each other, how can we solve it?” Very rich coming from the guy who’s refused to have a genuine conversation at every opportunity. He follows this with “I don’t know what I’ve done,” and she responds, “It’s better not to know.” Again, giving him the chance to leave with his dignity intact. She’s a better person than I would have been. It’s likely some measure of self-protection, too. No one wants to be the girl that got cheated on. But it would have been so easy for her to spread it around, out Mike for cheating on her with Peem, and ruin his life. But she doesn’t. She doesn’t want revenge. She isn’t vindictive. 

Side note: Pear finally shows him the texts from Meen, exposing his cheating, and Mike runs off with her phone. My dude. Have you not caused enough problems without stealing her phone too?? 

Mike automatically assuming Peem is the one that outed him to Pear is interesting on two fronts. 

Of course he does, how would anyone else know? Mike thinks he’s been successful at keeping things a secret, and Peem just confessed to him. He’s seen (and enjoyed) Peem getting possessive over him in front of Pear, and this is the natural escalation of that.

From what we’ve seen of their relationship so far, Peem never actually asks Mike to leave Pear. Probably because he knows he can’t trust Mike’s feelings for him (as he shouldn’t), and knows there’s no point. It would only serve to make Mike angry, which might make Mike leave him; Mike is only with him because Peem makes him feel good, after all. Peem might avoid Mike when he’s feeling rejected/neglected, and make sad eyes at him when Pear is involved, but for lack of a better term—he knows his place. And he knows his place in Mike’s life is beneath Pear. 

Finally, the fight that ends it all. Mike’s internalized homophobia is becoming externalized!!! It’s really sad the way he attacks Peem. He knows Peem loves him—Peem is the only one who loves him, now. But Mike is so caught up on the end of his relationship with Pear, and what it represents—him failing to uphold the  values he’s placed so much importance on—that he doesn’t care how much he’s hurting Peem. If anything, Peem’s heartbreak only makes this worse. Mike doesn’t want to love him. Peem tells him he has nothing left without Mike, and Mike doesn’t care. This could have been a moment of freedom for him, finally able to be with the person he loves, still safe in the knowledge that Pear will keep his indiscretions a secret. But he’s too self-centered, focusing on what he’s lost instead of what he still has/could have. 

And Peem finally snaps back. 

Peem: Have you ever had feelings for me, or do you just see me as your temporary fling? Mike: I don’t know! Peem: Or am I just someone who makes you feel good whenever you want? Mike: Remember this, I love Pear, not you! Not you at all!

True to the pattern, he is rejected for reaching out. Mike returns his honesty with deflection. 

Here we see Peem finally confronting his own feelings. He’s known all along what he is to Mike: a source of validation and experimentation. He didn’t want to see it, because he probably hoped Mike would eventually learn to love him. Or, if he sees Mike's feelings, hoping that Mike would eventually admit them to himself. Even now he’s still reaching out, trying to calm Mike down. He never gets far enough to even suggest this could be a good thing, because they could finally be together. 

Instead, their fight leads to Mike shoving Peem back, and Peem tripping into the pool. This is one of my favorite scenes of the whole thing because you see Mike struggling. He doesn’t know if he should jump in and save him. Then he remembers the last time this happened: Peem agreeing when Mike suggested he was only pretending to drown, only trying to get his attention. Here, Mike sees it as an attempt to make him stay. Peem pretends to be in danger to force Mike into saving him again—proving how much Mike cares for him. 

But Mike leaves. And Peem drowns.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

[lyxthen]

Extremely mildly niche academic-ish rambling ahead. Might wanna skip this one. It is long and boring

One thing that does make me happy is the Latinoamerican Literary Boom was so big it actually went on to be translated in other languages. There are still authors that I feel need to have their works translated (mostly women, I wonder why) but many of the video essayist I watch keep mentioning Borges in their videos, and truly I can't blame them because his work is rad. I don't know about him as a person but he lives 30 layers of post ironic meta fantasy or some shit like that. Cortazar is really cool also. In terms of living authors I really like Juan Villoro, his writing style is very fun. The Wild Book is a children's book about literary theory, like, Theory of Reception, Death of the Author, stuff like that. It was a really fun read as a child but the themes are interesting as well.

I feel like, I don't know, it's so hard to find Latin American fantasy books these days, or at least they are not as available. The YA genre is dominated by books originally writen in English or on books written in Spain (think Laura Gallego, which I just found out has a Netflix series made out of her most famous series of novels, but I am derailing) with the exception of Benito Taibo, who is Mexican, and has one (1) high fantasy trilogy that is kinda mid. The ideas were great, but they could've been expanded, you know? Camino a Sognum had so much potential, and you can *see* that it was inspired by classic epic fantasy like Earthsea, but it needed some more *spark* to actually work. I have not read Normal Person, but I plan to. Maybe it is better made?

And it's funny, because a book like Mexican Gothic, that was written in English, is so darn good! But only if you read it *in English* because the Spanish translation did this thing where they try to "neutralize" the accent and manerismd of the characters to make it appeal to the wider Spanish-speaking world and it doesn't sound or feel Mexican at all.

I am not sure where I am going with this. I have been discovering the local literary scene lately (and I mean *local*, like city-wide local) and it is mostly so boring because no one is writing fantasy! No magic realism! It's all kind of depressing dwellings on how we are being gentrified and indigenous people keep being oppressed by the mestizo majority and corporations and the goverment keep stealing the land to make Coca Cola and we are dying of diabetes and we don't got water and Capitalism sucks. LIKE I AGREE BUT CAN YOU PUT FAIRIES IN THERE OR SOMETHING. And I guess that's why I've never wanted to read Cómo Agua para Chocolate, because it is just *too real*, cuz it's a story I know by memory and I don't wanna live it all over again verbatim. Probably a great book, but I just cannot.

I don't know man idk idk.

The funniest think about this is that my favorite book ever (like actually, for real) is a children's book, written from the perspective of the imaginary friend of a child, and it is so gracefully narrated, and the characters so well constructed, and it touches real problems like Teen Pregnancy and Childhood Depression and Anxiety while also managing to be funny and whimsical? The very premise of the book (memories of an almost true friend, it's called) is already so creative and the execution is masterful. BUT I AM THE ONLY GUY ON PLANET EARTH THAT SEEMS TO KNOW ABOUT ITS EXISTENCE ITS DRIVING ME INSANE.

Where was I going with this. Ah yes. Youtubers talking about Borges. Well. Um. I. I think imma translate some of my own texts to English and put them on Wattpad or something. They are not the kind of thing Wattpad people are into but I gotta archive them somewhere and doing it on AO3 feels wrong since they aren't fan works. And on that note, I also wanna write more fan works.

Ugh I could be writing an essay but you got me writing a Tumblr post. What is wrong with me. I'm too bad at word weaving.

Aaaa (??????

Thoughts?

Help

I did take my meds today BTW. I don't know what is happening to me I just wanna WRITE ok I LOVE WRITING BUT WHY MUST I DO TUMBLR INSTEAD OF MY PASSIONS?

Oi I'll end it there

[prosebushpatch]

A Hat in Time Theory IN WHICH HAT KID WAS ORIGINALLY THE DAUGHTER OF VANESSA AND THE PRINCE BUT IN WHICH THAT WAS POSSIBLY CUT OUT below the cut please bear with my ramblings.

First of all, I feel like it’s safe to say that Hat Kid’s home is very possibly in a different time than which the game takes place because why else would you pilot a ship that runs on magic hourglasses? However, if she is originally from Earth during a different time, she does not seem to recognize it. This is the main reason that I think her being from Earth was originally cut and is no longer in the story.

In her diary after Chapter 1-1, she writes, “Why couldn’t I have gotten stranded near a normal planet,” which indicates to me that Hat Kid has no connection to Earth at all. Her diaries continue in this tone of exploring an unfamiliar planet as she documents her encounters. Especially when she writes about the Snatcher or about Vanessa, she appears to have no knowledge of who they were and talks about Vanessa as probably being a creepy old lady and Snatcher being a jerk making her do chores. I feel like if Hat Kid knew the home she’s trying to return to is the past Subcon forest, there would be more hints, at least, where she either reflects on the state of the forest or outright shows more affection for Snatcher or Vanessa. 

However, it is probable that Hat Kid simply doesn’t know. We don’t know how long she was separated from Home, and we don’t know when she was, potentially resulting in a Clark Kent version where Hat Kid was shot out to space as a baby to protect her from Vanessa? This specifically could make sense when considering how the beta characters, Tim and Thor are frozen in Vanessa’s manor on the same floor where there is a nursery. Tim was originally going to serve as Hat Kid’s instructor/tutorial and Thor was an inventor. It makes sense that they might have not only constructed the ship for Hat Kid, but would have helped her escape before being frozen by Vanessa. (Or they’re there so their models get used and it’s not that deep). But, it does seem telling either way that Vanessa’s Manor does hold a nursery. (On a creepier note, the painting in the nursery is slowly filled in with what looks like Hat Kid holding the fox Forest Dweller Mask as Hat Kid goes back and forth to bring balloons to the key on Vanessa’s bed. While this could be just to add extra horror to the spooky situation, it does seem to connect Hat Kid directly to the nursery).

Subcon Forest has the most cut content from what I can tell, and seems to have the most fleshed out characters and world. Focusing on Scenery, there’s the frozen manor and village, the burning forest, the Forest Dweller’s village, the well, the swamp, and most importantly, the area of the forest where the purple time rift is. According to the wiki, this area of the forest is known as the Augmented forest and could have been where Moonjumper lived. The forest is full of crumbling homes and furniture, giant gears, a giant face of a yellow clock with a red hand, and the Purple Time Rift that tells us Queen Vanessa’s story. The Time Rift is inside a large ice shard that varies with hit boxes and a tower with Hat Kid’s Top Hat right in front of it. To my knowledge, there isn’t any similar structure in the other worlds so it’s strange that Subcon has a whole pillar dedicated to Hat Kid’s signature Hat.

Speaking of Moonjumper, he was originally the prince before he was cut and the Snatcher took Moonjumper’s backstory. Interestingly, the outline of the prince in Vanessa’s manor looks, to me, more like Moonjumper’s design with the jagged cloak which doesn’t matter too much to this theory but I thought I would point it out. The moon is always looming over Subcon Forest and the higher you get, specifically on top of the Snatcher’s tree, you can see shadowy buildings with golden windows reaching towards the moon. This is reminiscent of where Hat Adult is found in the beta.

Hat Adult, another scrapped idea, exists a bookstore in a grey looking world with shadowy structures and golden windows. Hat Adult has a song called “Hat Adult Masked Song” with lyrics that seem to tell the story of the Prince and Vanessa and was supposed to be played over “TheSubconForest_Masked” (as explained here) And interestingly, the lyrics seem to refer to Moonjumper instead of the Snatcher, saying, “Skin so blue/His eyes shot red.” Which better matches Moonjumper’s blue skin and decorated red eyes. So, at least in the beta, Hat Adult seems more connected to Moonjumper and his story. I think it’s worth noting that it’s also snowing in the area with the bookstore, almost like tying in Vanessa’s icy influence as well. Whether the bookstore is in fact where Hat Adult calls Home or not, it seems odd that there’s a lot of connections between Hat Adult and Subcon in general.

Mentioned in the same video I linked at 9:23, there’s an art piece of Hat Kid and Hat Adult, a Rocketship, and Penguins under a moon (also boy with a sword but idk I’m focusing on the moon right now). The only other place, to my knowledge, where we see the moon is where DJ Grooves films his movies, which is supposed to be on the moon. This might explain the penguins in the pic but the rocketship and Hat Kid and Hat Adult seem to further emphasize that they need to get to the moon for some reason or other. Most likely because it is connected to Home.

This is all hypothetical, but in my gut I want to connect “Time’s End” to the Horizon, which is where Moonjumper would have been trapped. I feel like if there’s going to be a place where time is unmoving/doesn’t exist it would be the Horizon? Again, connecting Moonjumper to Hat Adult.

In the wiki there’s also a very interesting quote from the Snatcher that takes place some time during the Death Wish DLC. He says, “You look just like your parents, you know that? At least I think you do-their spirits are looking kind of hazy. Just kidding! Or maybe not, who can really tell.” Assuming this is directed at Hat Kid and not a depressing quip about her parents’ souls being with the Snatcher, it could be a hint that the Snatcher is talking about himself and Vanessa. We don’t get a lot of specific facial features for human Vanessa or the Prince, but the Prince’s hair does seem similar to Hat Kid’s hair color and the fact that the Snatcher admits their spirits are looking kind of hazy could refer to the Snatcher and Vanessa’s shadow forms.

Also this is small, but the amount of character dolls and the fact that right at the beginning of the game you can find a snatcher ball even before the time pieces are lost seems suspicious if Hat Kid was never supposed to have been on the planet before or know any of the characters...

Finally, there’s a picture of an idyllic wooden home by river in a lush green forest in the kitchen on Hat Kid’s ship (even at the beginning of the game). This could be a picture of Subcon Forest before Vanessa changed as the building structure is similar to the wooden homes in the frozen and burning parts of the forest. Also, the picture of Hat Kid’s home on the screen keeping track of time pieces looks like a shorter version of the picture in the woods, complete with trees growing beside it. Coincidence? Probably. JK I totally think it makes sense that Hat Kid was at least born in Subcon Forest pre Vanessa turning it to ice.

That was long. For easier access, I used this video about cut bits, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wZlM5wWOY2k, this video with all the diaries https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=x_tnPIiwNEA, and the wiki https://ahatintime.fandom.com/wiki/Hat_Kid, the lyrics for Hat Adult Song https://www.deviantart.com/domobfdi/journal/A-Hat-In-Time-Unused-Subcon-Forest-Mask-Lyrics-794023592, and of course, my excessive excursions into Subcon Forest. 

Please feel free to message me or correct any info, obviously I relied on beta stuff that I might not have gotten right or understood but I’m interested to hear what you think!

TL;DR: Hat Kid was at least originally planned to be the Prince’s and Queen Vanessa’s daughter but that part of the story was probably cut because of all the beta content cut and all the ties Hat Kid has to Subcon Forest.

[someonetookmygender]

I posted 29 times in 2022

That's 29 more posts than 2021!

19 posts created (66%)

10 posts reblogged (34%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@writing-prompt-s

@happy2justb

@rigormqrtis

@boymilfsblog

@atagotiak

I tagged 26 of my posts in 2022

Only 10% of my posts had no tags

#humans are space orcs - 14 posts

#aliens - 12 posts

#earth is space australia - 12 posts

#humans are weird - 10 posts

#aliens and humans - 5 posts

#humans and aliens - 4 posts

#aliens being so confused will never not be funny - 4 posts

#writing stuff - 4 posts

#scifi - 3 posts

#aliens :d - 3 posts

Longest Tag: 108 characters

#also aliens interacting with these cats that are definitely related to bigger more vicious cats is hilarious

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Aliens and Human Relationships pt 3 :D

More romantic,platonic, and familial between aliens and humans

Romantic Relationships

-Some aliens have very Rube Goldberg styles of courting while others are very straight forward

-blush appears on mammilain species but not on reptilian or avian, but that doe snot mean those species do not blush, they just hsow it differently

-i have a feeling that nearly all aliens can be embarrassed easily, so when a human flirts, its great

-meeting the parents could be very weird for alien species simply because either a) everyone knows each other or b) no one cares who you date in space

-ALIEN SO'S BEING PROTECTIVE

-on the above thought, humans have all sorts of social issues so if a human had an alien s.o, i headcanon they would be very protective

-small human, tall alien or vice versa

-the tension between very short humans and very tall humans confuse most aliens until it happens to them, then its "oh"

-some aliens are like cats which means courting gifts are like enemies heads or some sort of trophy

-polyamory is normal in some species and it is completely normal to have 2+ partners

-a lot of children that have both human and alien genes but how they appear can vary due to how strong the genetics are.

-humanoids can mate with each other but not more avaian or reptiallian or even very aquatic species. So those who cannot mate will adopt

Familial Relantionships

-Children are able to speak more than 3 languages, 2 being their parents original language and one which could be galactic basic or something. English is spoken within the galaxy but is not the main language

-children learning acceptance of differences from a very young age where that's skin colour, heritage, accents, sexuality, gender etc

-very mixed families, for example - alien+alien+human (parents) with alien/human mix and full human children or human+alien with 6 adopted or foster kids. Heterosexual, Homosexual, Bisexual, polyamorous, and so on couples and families exist.

-parents have either wallets filled with pictures or at least 3 full albums full of photos that they pull out to embarrass their kids

-found family is very common. ( idk if i mentioned this already)

-Child services are very effective on some planets but on others are crap

-children who are orphans sometimes have people who help them and create safe spaces for them

-mental health issues are treated seriously in a lot of families because it is important for the members to be healthy

Platonic Relationships

-Aliens bonding over their love for their human friends/colleagues/kids/SO

-give me a human showing an alien a meme and the alien doing what all the dads do when you show them something

-t-shirts that are " this is my alien -- >" "< --this is my human"

-aliens being mildly terrified of their human friends

-on the above headcanon, humans have the whole deathworlders and also having the damage predictability of an iphone

See the full post

529 notes - Posted September 3, 2022

#4

Aliens and dealing with animals

I find this hilarious because while aliens definitely have animal species on their planets and have domesticated them. Just compared to animals we find on earth, it's either that aliens are terrified or are not. Its one or the other. No one can change my mind.

Here's a scene.

Alien: What is this quadruped, furry animal on your lap human?

Human: Oh, this is Lasagna, they're my cat. I have two other cats, Loaf and Pebble. Lasagna's old and Loaf is a kitten - she scratches everything! * points to the sofa in the corner* Look what she did to my sofa! Pebbles yells a lot.

Alien: How did you domesticate such violent and destructive creatures.

Human: Through food. These fuzzballs love food! * nuzzles into Lasagna*

Alien: On an evolutionary perspective, are they related to any other species.

Human: They're related to big cats like tigers, lions, panthers. Any big cat, our cats are somehow related to. Someone I know is a zoologist and he says that the big cats are really friendly if they know you, and they love pets.

Alien: You mean that these small creatures are related to these dangerous creatures?

Human: Yep, but it's alright, the worst these kitties can do are scratch.

Alien * equally terrified and curious as Pebbles comes close and nudges their leg, * : Who is this? * Pebbles scratches*

-Garbled alien screaming-

537 notes - Posted February 27, 2022

#3

Aliens and Humans Relationship Headcanons

General relationship headcanons, romatimic, platonic, etc. Cause my brain really ~Aliens like Humans~

- You know whenever there's a newborn baby and everyone coos over them? Yeah that's Aliens to Humans. Some are super tall and some are super short but it is agreed that Humans are ~baby~

- Most Aliens that have interacted/worked/met a bunch of humans has a favorite or a preferred human.

- Headcanoning one species of Aliens that are similar to cats. So when humans do they pspspspsp, these tall, scary looking humanoid/hybrid figures stumble over like cats. ALso this species are the same with cats and knocking things off places and chasing laser pointers.

- Imagine an Alien and Human who are together. But of course the Alien is scary and mean and in the middle of telling someone to go piss themselves, their human S.O shows up and the Alien melts into such a softy.

- Aliens either are super scared or super fond of humans. It makes sense given that Earth is Space Australia and we do banthashit things here.

- Probably classes at alien schools about Earth and Humans and there could be Human Transfers who are horrified at how Humans are presented. Human transfer students most likely being asked about human stuff

- Humans in public or in private are cuddlebugs, we like physical touch especially with the ones we love.

- Furries scare everyone, I mean have you seen them? ( this is a joke, I've met some furries and their all very nice :D)

- A thought, which i think is extremely funny, is how Aliens see our technology and compared to their technology is probably super old but humans make up for it with the enthusiasm.

- What about Aliens and swear words? I think this will be one of the next posts.

This will be continued :D

821 notes - Posted March 14, 2022

#2

I think that aliens would be extremely weirded out by third culture kids.

Here's my thinking. Aliens come from planets that have only one ruler or government so laws are the same for the entire planet. If you look at Earth that is not the case with how our countries have different laws and everything else. This is not to say that aliens don't have municipalities or regions but maybe not as complex as having 195 countries each with their own government and laws.

I feel like a conversation would end up like this between an alien and a third culture kid.

Alien: Human? What is a "Third Culture Kid"?

HUman: Oh that's where you are from one country, but you live in another and you speak a completely different language.

Alien: I thought all planets had one government. That is standard on Earth?

Human: Uhhh, no.

Alien: What do you mean?

Human: We have... 195 countries

Alien: What is a country?

Human: uhhh a country is... an area that is governed.

Alien: So a region? We have 5 of those on my home planet of *unintelligible name* What about you?

Human: uhhh.... 195.

Alien: How many? My hearing is not great

Human: 195. We have 195 countries.

Alien: *Visible confusion* 195? How do you agree on anything?

Human: We have Unions and groups to agree on things.

Alien: So this "Third Culture Kid"? What is it?

Human: I'm considered a third culture kid. Born in Austria, Raised in Australia and my first language is French. So a third culture is kid is someone who is born somewhere, speaks a completely different first language and whose raised somewhere other than their home country.

Alien: Humans are confusing.

974 notes - Posted February 14, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Imagine aliens hearing a thick accent for the first time. Like I'm talking heavy Scottish or Irish specifically just because it's too funny. But just imagine how funny it would be to other humans. We already laugh at the hilarity of the irish and scottish way of speaking so this would be humours. Just think an alien thinking its normal human and then it talks with such a thick accent that the alien just blue screens.

For anyone going to say i am mocking or making fun of these accents, i am not. Simply it is for fun and is not to offend anyone. I am sorry if i did

1,014 notes - Posted February 19, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[dancingintheraindreamingonday]

Trouble in paradise - Part 4

Summary: This part takes place 5 months after the blip. Things get difficult when you and Bucky get a guest.

Warning: non; just fluff

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x angel!reader

Author's note: Took me ages to write that. I’m introducing you to two new characters. ;) Thanks again for everyone who is reading my story. English is still not my first languages

Part 1 

Part 2 

Part 3

Bucky felt weird, deprived. It has been 5 months since the blip and now everything was different. He wasn’t in Wakanda anymore, reading all those letters you wrote to him.

Steve wasn’t there anymore. He stayed in the past and Bucky knew the reason. Steve loved you so he couldn’t stand to see you happy with Bucky. He fled from the painful reality into a past where you weren’t present. 

You and Bucky moved in together one month after the big war. It should have been awkward to move in with someone you barely knew but it wasn’t. Everything with you was easy and harmonic.  And Bucky enjoyed the levity. 

5 years ago, after the snap, you started to work as a teacher. It didn’t matter that you had no qualifications. The schools were so desperate because of the sudden disappearance of several teachers and you were fantastic. You still work there and to everyone else you and Bucky seemed like a normal couple. 

Bucky just finished therapy when he noticed a person with a hoodie who was following him. 

He slipped into an empty alley and ambushed for the person to come.  Bucky didn’t need to wait long for it. 

He attacked the hooded figure pressing it to the wall. A soft squeal left the mouth of the person. 

„Who the hell are you and why are you following me?“ 

„I… I mean no harm.“ The voice of a woman spoke, timidly and softly. 

The figure raised both hands to the sides of her hood and pushed it a little bit back, but it was enough for Bucky to be stunned. He could see the (y/h/c) hair shining under the afternoon sun. Her hair reminded Bucky of yours. Glossy, soft and so slick, that the fabric of the hood went slithering down. This girl in front of him looked like you. The same (y/e/c) eyes and the same small nose. Just the lips had another shape-they were slightly thinner. Without doubt, the girl looked like  she could have been your sister. 

„Who are you?“

„My name is Charlie and I’m here because I really need your help.“

„Why do you think I’ll help you?“

„It’s HYDRA, and angels. They are targeting my family.“

„I don’t believe a single word you say. HYDRA doesn’t exist anymore and why would I even care for your family.“ 

„Because… I can’t believe I’m telling you this. You are my family. You are my father.“ Bucky let go of the girl like he got burnt. 

„I’m not a father. I don’t have a child. You’re completely mad.“ 

„Yeah, you’re right. You are not a father and you don't have a child yet but one day you will and that kid will be me.“

„So you’re saying you're from the future? You’re out of your mind.“ Bucky started to walk back to the main street, leaving her alone.

„I can prove it.“ Charlie hurried after Bucky. 

„When you can’t sleep at night, mum makes you hot chocolate and reads a book to you. And every time I have a nightmare you do the same procedure.“

„That doesn’t prove anything.“

„Two weeks after the blip you bought an engagement ring for mum. You carry it in your pocket and you wait for the perfect day, the perfect moment to ask her. And you told me that one day you woke up and just knew that this particular day would be the one. Here.“ The girl was searching in her bag. She pulled out a picture. 

It was an indescribable strange feeling to look at a picture of something that hasn’t happened yet. The picture showed you and Bucky on your wedding day. You both were kissing each other. It was a soft yet freeing kiss. All these years of waiting and longing were put into this kiss. Bucky wasn’t sure if others would interpret the same thing or if this was just his current feelings; still waiting impatiently for the to come. In the background he saw Sam and Pepper and another woman who he hasn’t met yet. The laughed and clapped happily their hands. 

Bucky sat down on a bench, that was nearby.

„Am I… am I a good father?“

„Of course you are. You are the best.“ Charlie lay her hand reassuringly on Bucky’s.

„So what’s going on in the future?“

„A lot. It’s pure chaos. The war of the angels isn’t up there anymore. They now live on earth, they are fighting on earth. And they have multiple allies.. HYDRA or SWORD. They are after us. You and mum are desperate and helpless because you both don't know how to protect our family. So mum thought about sending me to Olympia… to Ikaris.“

Bucky snorted. He didn't like the Eternals and especially Ikaris, who was a handsome and powerful man. But it was his arrogance and his closeness to you that made Bucky despise him. Every time Ikaris came to visit you, which happened on a regular basis since the Blip, Bucky felt minor in his presence. Like a loser. Even Sam and Steve didn’t like Ikaris. They met him when he came to warn you about Thanos upcoming arrival. „He’s the Prime Eternal“, you always said to Bucky. „Of course he’s a bit arrogant but he’s also sincere, loyal and fair. I’ve known him for so many years, I’ve stood side by side in his war against Apocalypse. I trust him, and you can trust him too.“ 

„Wow, even in the past you can’t stand him. Anyway, we didn't make it to Olympia. They knew we were coming, Michael and Rafael were already waiting for us. So you and Mum had no choice but to fight. You gave Capt… I mean Sam the stone and just said 2023 and that I should look for a prophecy? And then Sam and I tried to flee but they were everywhere, so he gave me the stone and suddenly I’m here.“

„What stone?“

„This one.“, Charlie showed Bucky a small green stone. 

„That’s an infinity stone! Where did you get this?“ 

„Don’t ask me! You gave the stone to Sam. I don’t know where you got this. But mum can’t know about this. She thinks, angels shouldn’t time travel, because we could misuse this power. “

„Put that away. If someone sees you with this you’ll be in danger.“

Bucky met Charlie every week this week which didn't get unnoticed by a certain person. 

On the first day, it was a coincidence that you were there as well. You just picked Morgan up from Kindergarten. Morgan Stark was the daughter of Tony and Pepper and even thought you never were really close to them, one day changed this. You visited Tony and Pepper and suddenly Pepper went into labour. Complications came up and Pepper had to fight for her and for her baby’s life. But it had been your angel powers that saved both of them. Tony never forgot this and he made you the godmother of Morgan. You hated this name. According to you, no angel should be called a godmother or a godfather. 

The first time you saw Bucky and her you didn't really think about it. But you were confused that Bucky didn't mention the woman he met this day and you couldn’t help but to be suspicious.

The next following 3 days you saw Bucky and this woman sitting too closely for your liking on a small bench and talking vividly with each other. 

„Is that Bucky?“, Morgan looked at you as she pointed with her small pointing finger in the direction where Bucky was sitting. 

„I think you’ll be the next Sherlock Holmes. C’mon, lets say hi to Bucky and his friend“

You were nervous and an uneasy feeling spread in your body. 

„Hey, Buck.“, You grinned at him, recognizing how surprised he looked.

„What are you doing here?“

„Picked Morgan up.“ A strange silence grew between the two of you. That's why how you started to observe the woman, that was sitting on the bench. She was truthfully gorgeous. A fact that you didn't appreciated at all. 

„Hi, I’m (y/f/n).“ You extended your right hand.

„Hi, I’m uh.. Charlie…“

Her hand was shaking and sweaty like she was nervous and when you touched her hand you felt her powers, her angel and you didn't like it at all. You pressed your lips together and faked a sweet smile. „Nice to meet you.“

You looked away from Charlie and into Bucky’s deep ocean blue eyes.

„So, how do you met each other?“

„Well… we… met… in therapy.“ Bucky stuttered.

You nodded slowly your head. „Are you sure or do you need another minute to come up with a better lie.“, you whispered.

Bucky ignored this and pulled you slightly away from the bench. 

„I want to ask you something.“

„Okay?“, Morgan was still sleeping in your arms and you were afraid, that she would wake up from your fast heartbeat. 

„I wanted to ask if you’d be okay with Charlie staying with us for some days. She doesn’t have a home and…“ Bucky was scratching his head as he looked unsure.

„Absolutely not.“

„Why not?“

"What did she tell you? What did she tell you to gain your trust, because whatever it was, it was a lie.“ A pause

„Did she tell you that she’s an angel? But she isn’t a normal one, she wasn’t created by Him. She was born, but she isn’t a Nephilim either.“

Bucky looked confused, not knowing what a nephilim is.

„A nephilim is the offspring of an angel and a human. They are half human, half angel and they are really annoying. But she is a real born angel which leads me to the conclusion that one of her parents must have been a really powerful angel… like an archangel. Bucky, I know every archangel and none of them has a child. She can’t be trusted and there is no angel who doesn’t want to see us dead… with all the chaos we provoked.“

You starred into Bucky’s face. No sign of surprise could be seen.

„She told you. You aren’t even surprised. Since when do you trust angels?“ Shocked about his sudden trust, you opened your mouth slightly.

„Well, I trust you, don’t I.“

Bucky regretted this sentence immediately as he saw your hurt in your big (y/e/c) eyes.

„I didn't mean it like that. I just… this girl has no one, no family, no friends. And I feel bad for her. You of all people know how difficult those times are.“

As a teacher you saw how desperate parents and kids could be. You knew that for several families the blip didn't make it any better, if anything it just made it worse. 

„Don’t compare her life to those who really suffered, Bucky. She is not innocent. Angels are never innocent… I… Who is this girl? Who are her parents? Did she tell you anything about them?“

„She is scared and helpless. She’s still traumatized and doesn’t talk much“ 

You snorted.

„We can get her a hotel room for some time but I won’t let her into our home. That’s my final answer.“

You kissed Bucky on his cheek and walked with Morgan on your arms home. 

„She will kill you.“ Charlie told Bucky as they both walked upstairs to Bucky’s and yours apartment door. „Probably.“ 

Charlie lay her hand on Bucky’s underarm which caused him to look into her face. 

„Please, don’t get killed. Without you, there is no me.“ Even though she just said it jokingly, a warm and pleasant feeling went through Bucky’s body. 

He opened the door and heard you preparing dinner. 

„Hey Buck, I hope you aren’t upset…“, You stopped your sentence when you saw who Bucky brought with him.

„Oh for god’s sake. You’ve got to be kidding me.“

„I know you’re angry with me but I couldn’t just let her stay there in the park.“ Bucky tried to calm you down.

„Please, Bucky. Don’t let her into our home. She has more secrets than the Vatican“ You begged him. 

„It’s just for a couple of days, yeah?“

You shrugged

„Well, you already made this decision on your own and I have no choice but to accept it.“ Bucky leaned down to kiss you but you turned your head away. 

„You’re probably hungry. Sit down, please.“ You offered the girl a seat. Charlie was starving and it had been weeks since she ate a proper meal. 

„What about you?“ Bucky asked worriedly.

„I lost my appetite but don’t worry, I won’t die out of starvation.“ 

You opened the door to a small room. The walls were painted in light blue and small and bigger yellow handprints of you and Morgan could be seen. 

„Is it already morning?“ She asked sleepily, rubbing her eyes with her tiny hands.

„No, you just get an upgrade. Go back to sleep.“ You whispered softly as you carried her to your room and left some minutes later with a pillow and a blanket which you put onto the couch.

„Charlie, you can sleep in that room and you“ You turned your head towards Bucky.

„You can sleep there.“ With your head you're nodding to the red, comfortable couch.

„You’re kicking me out of our bed?“ Hurt and disappointment could be heard in Bucky’s voice.

"Did you really think that after everything you’ve done today I want to sleep next you? 

Good night.“

Two weeks had passed and Bucky was on edge to the therapist’s sorrow. Charlie was still living with you. 

„Trouble in paradise?“ Ikaris saw the blankets on the couch as he entered your apartment. Since the blip the Eternals were at war with the Deviants again. Ikaris used his getaways to meet you, asking for your support in his war.

„Don’t get me started. This woman just infuriates me.“

„Tell me about it.“ Ikaris sat down, watching how you prepare dinner.

„Well… 2 weeks ago Bucky brought this girl home because she’s helpless and innocent.“ The last part of your sentence is full with cutting irony. 

„But you don’t believe it?“ Ikaris dug deeper.

„How can I. This girl is an angel.“ You put a glass of water in front of him.

Ikaris eyes widen due to your confession.

„And not just a normal angel… she has a soul... I felt it when I touched her hands.“

Ikaris swallowed the water and snorted.

„How is that even possible?“ He asked when he gained back his control of his breathing.

„I have no idea and I don’t think that this never existed before. That makes her kinda dangerous. And to be honest, I don’t like how close she and Bucky are.“

„So, you see her as a threat of your security or your relationship with James?“

„I don't know. Even though she is powerful she can’t kill me with her powers, but she has Bucky wrapped around her finger with her annoying angel charm. And that will eventually kill me.“

„Maybe she has the same friendship like you had with Steve. You told me, that in the beginning none of the avengers trusted you, except Steve.“

„That was different. I was always honest.“ You said defending yourself.

„But they didn't know that. You are extremely strong, immortal and gorgeous. You had Steve wrapped around finger.“ 

You crossed your arms, not liking Ikaris’ reasons.

„Here they come“, You mumbled as you heard the apartment door to open.

„Hey, James!“ Ikaris greeted cheekily Bucky 

„Ikaris.“ Bucky nodded

„So, where is the wolf in sheep's clothing?“

„Ikaris, I swear I’ll k…“ You were masaging your temples.

Ikaris swallowed again 

„Damn woman, you didn't mention that she looks exactly like you. Are you both related?“ 

„As if, I’m definitely not related to this.“ Your voice was cold, which earned you an annoyed glance from Bucky

„So tell me, where are you from?“ Ikaris looked interested and attentive. 

„I don’t know, I can’t remember.“ Charlie's cheeks blushed as she shrugged. 

You snorted

„See, I told you. The worst liar on earth.“

„I thought out of all angels you would understand me not remembering my past.“ It was the first time that Charlie really spoke with you and it surprised you as much as it angers you. 

„Are you trying to compare your stupidity with me getting my memories burnt out in the most agonizing pain? You do remember, you're just not telling us. That’s a damn difference.“

Tears welled up in Charlie's eyes as she ran into her room. 

Bucky looked at you reproachfully and went after Charlie. 

„I’ll better go.“ Ikaris stood up. 

„What? No, please don't leave me here. At the moment, you are the only sane person here.“

„If I want to eat with this much tension I’ll just eat with my ex-girlfriends.“ He chuckled. 

„Talk with him. You both love each other, you will find a solution. And maybe trusting her… just a tiny bit would make her more talkative.“ Ikaris kissed you on the top of your head and left.

Bucky leaned against the kitchen counter, staring at you. 

„Why are you so mean to her?“

„No. The question should be: Why are you so nice to her?“

Bucky walked slowly into your direction

„You want to know the truth? She reminds me of you. She’s smart and strong but also extremely vulnerable. And because of that I feel the need to help her, to protect her.“ His voice was deeper than usual. 

Moments later Bucky stood before you and put both his big rough hands on the wall on each side of your head. He cornered you against the wall. 

„I’ve been deprived of you. Of your kisses, of your touches“ Bucky murmured in your ear, his lips slightly touching earlobe. He could smell your sweet, fruity fragrance that made him dizzy. 

„Promise me, that no matter how angry you’re with me, never stop kissing me. I need those. They're keeping sane.“ 

„I promise“

After hearing this, Bucky pressed his cold lips onto your soft and warm ones. His urgent tongue was invading your mouth, as he was pressing himself closer to you. Your hands were in his brown short hair trying to pull his head even closer to you. 

Bucky groaned.

You both tried to catch your breath when you both heard a woman’s voice straight out of the tv.

„Did you know Steve Rogers?“ 

„… I followed his career very closely as an Avenger. I like to think that I modeled my work after his. I liked that what I was doing would make people feel safe. Steve Rogers was the kind of guy who could do that, he gave me hope. Even though I never met him, he feels like a brother.“

Bucky clenched his jaw, not believing what he sees. You covered your mouth with your hands, shocked to see a new Captain America. 

@jessyballet​  @geek-and-proud​ @xlostinobsessionsx​ @cataves​ @intothesoul​ @beminetokeep @ebxny27 @ceo-of-daichi​ @bluemoon-icecream-blog​ @peterbparkersbae​ @bbl32​ @stormi-ames​ @intothesoul​ @avoxzy​ @ferxaniti​ @daughterofthemoon92​ @bebudaful​ @kaitieskidmore1​ @harrystylesandthegoobs​ 

[procrastinatorproject]

Fic writer review, thank you to @thelaithlyworm  for the tag <3

how many works do you have on AO3?

Ten? Oh no, it’s actualy 12 now!

what’s your total AO3 word count?

86,468

how many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

Grand total of 1: Star Trek: Picard - although my latest offering might branch a bit into other Trek as well.

what are your top 5 fics by kudos?

“Passengers”

“And a Barrel of Gagh”

“CMO’s Log”

“Preparations”

“Game Night”

Which is actually kinda interesting. I wrote Passengers, Preparations, and Game Night while the fandom was still a lot more active (especially in the Aramis in Space corner), so that makes sense. The CMO’s log has had chapters added every few months, giving it probably the most exposure of any of my fics. Barrel of Gagh, though? I think I’m gonna attribute that to Thimblerig turning it into a truly, TRULY brilliant piece of podfic. Also the fact that it’s whump involving a character played by Santiago Cabrera. ‘tis A Thing..... :D

do you respond to comments, why or why not?

I really try to! I love talking with people in the comments and just... thanking the people who found the time and energy to leave comments. But especially in the last few months I have gotten very bad at keeping up with the comments and now there’s about two dozen that I have neglected to reply to for a painfully long time 🙈

But I will get there! Because I love that kind of interaction!

what’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

So far, none of them have had angsty endings. Angsty middles, yes, but not endings. I’m just a sucker for everyone being happy in the end. Or at least on the way to being better, and supported and cared for on that way.

do you write crossovers? if so what is the craziest one you’ve written?

I haven’t yet, but I’m definitely not opposed. One of the threads of my 200k unpublishable whump scenes takes place in a continuity that has existed in my daydreams for... I wanna say six years at the very least, probably longer. It’s mostly straight-up Star Trek, but with the twist that it involves the Wraith, the telepathic, hive-minded alien race from Stargate: Atlantis that suck the life force out of you with their hands? Or, well, at least a variation thereof.

I once typed up the world building for that particular setting and it took me three hours to try and make it all make sense. So it’s... involved. But not necessarily “crazy”. And I’m not sure I’m ever actually going to publish any of the stories I have set in it (not least because that would envolve finishing any of them and bringing them into a form that is interesting to read for anyone but me...)

have you ever received hate on a fic?

Nope.

do you write smut? if so what kind?

Hm, not yet. I do enjoy reading smut, but only under very specific circumstances. I think I may eventually try my hand at smut, but the inner prude is still very strong. Writing about Rios and Xyr making out (which, honestly, was really tame, all things considered) made me melt in a puddle of blushing embarrassment, so full-on smut is probably beyond me at the moment. One day!

have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of. Though litigating that in a fandom like ours would be... tricky. ST:Pic is way too small to steal stories outright. But similar or the same ideas pop up all the time. And it’s a complete coincidence. Reading the book that recently came out and that has a kinda similar setting to a lot of my stories (pre-season 1, early in Rios’s history as captain of Sirena, dealing with original characters, holo shenanigans, friendship with Raffi, etc.), I was struck by just how many elements, both scenes or story beats and little details, were similar to things that have cropped up in my writing. And it is entirely coincidental, because I am beyond certain that the author doesn’t read fanfic. Just... for legal reasons. Not to mention I wrote a bunch of the things I saw parallels to while the book was already in production, and some of them are only in my drafts.

So there is a ton of convergent evolution going on in this particular section of the fandom, and trying to litigate who came up with certain plot ideas or character beats when would be a sysiphean disaster. Some things are clear and whenever I use any of them I give credit where I can, but people will have very similar ideas. It just happens. So no, I haven’t had either a full-on story or “an idea” stolen, and I might change my tune if it ever does happen, but so far, I’m trying to practice equanimity, so I’ll be better at it should I ever need it.

have you ever had a fic translated?

Sadly no. My dad keeps complaining that all my fic is in English so he can’t read any of it, but honestly? I’m kinda glad for this very convenient excuse. Maybe if I ever feel like I want to practice my interpreting skills, I will give translating the stories into German a shot. We’ll see. Otherwise, if anyone feels inspired: Have at it! Just let me know, okay?

have you ever co-written a fic before?

Not quite. I have a draft of off-the-cuff worldbuilding that I wrote on Discord with @curator-on-ao3 and that I would love to turn into an actual short fic (letters from a conference on holo-ethics), but I haven’t gotten around to it yet.

what’s your all time favorite ship?

I don’t really do shipping.

what’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

I WILL NEVER ACCEPT DEFEAT!!!! One day, I will write the next installment of Star Trek: La Sirena! I have so many ideas for that continuity and those characters. I’m not going to abandon them!

what are your writing strengths?

Hmmmmm. Probably detailed worldbuilding? Ask me something about, say, a technological or cultural aspect of Star Trek and chances are, I have thought about it in the past or will come up with three different sets of intricate lore within half an hour. (Things like... the architecture of San Francisco, or Will there still be taxi drivers? or the treaty between IKEA Intergalactic and the Borg Collective, or the Universal Translator, or Emergency Services or Why There Are Very Few Ambulances On Earth Anymore etceterah etceterah...)

I’m also good at slapping together off-the-cuff plot ideas (if, say, you need an explanation for how Seven and Agnes ended up stranded on a desert island, I could probably give you three different scenarios pretty quickly. Just don’t ask me to make them poignant or actually write them.

I’m also very, very good at beginnings.

what are your writing weaknesses?

Everything that isn’t a beginning. Especially endings, or rather: finishing something, but also just... keeping momentum.

I think my dialogue is somewhat samey and not distinct enough between characters. (Also my witty banter is... let’s just say it doesn’t come to me naturally...)

And I also struggle with keeping things brief and to the point. I can write you 30k of whump covering a span of three hours, but fitting a whole story in the same space? Much more difficult!

I have also avoided writing full-on action so far, but where it has crept in it has always been a struggle and been workshopped a lot with the indefatigable beta.

Otherwise, I don’t know. My self-perception is always a little warped, so I’m not sure what other people would say my weaknesses are.

what are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

Oof. Well. I have used Spanish sentences in my fic and done the thing where they’re translated in the end note, but I’ve mostly done it sparingly. I’ve also done the ‘“What do you want?” he said in Spanish.’ It’s tricky. But I will likely keep doing it in some instances, even if it’s a bit annoying.

(It also really helps to have a native speaker of Spanish as a beta, even if it’s Spanish from a different region than you’re character.)

Speaking of regional: I’m also torn about the whole “phonetically writing out accents” issue. Some people love it, some people hate it, I’m really unsure because I’m not a native speaker of English, so I’m not even sure I’m consistent in my narrative voice’s regional quirks. So far, I’ve mostly gone with describing that an accent is happening, and only writing out when phrasing actually differs from standard English. Like Ian (Scottish) saying “dinnae” but not writing “I” as “ah” as you’d see on, say, Scottish twitter.

Though it can be a very useful tool if, for instance, you want to indicate a characters accent getting stronger as they get tired or upset. 🧐

Anyway, I don’t think there is one right or wrong answer here and everyones milage will vary.

what was the first fandom you wrote for?

Published? ST:PIC

Actually first? Lord of the Rings and Harry Potter. Pretty much simultaneously, though I did write more for LotR. On graph paper, mind, with my fountain pen turned upside down so I could write smaller. I still have folders worth of those stories that I urgently need to digitize before they fade and I lose them forever...

what’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

I’m going to quote @thelaithlyworm here: I Love All My Children Equally! I honestly couldn’t say. They are different and I love them for different reasons but I love them all.

Thank you for the tag! ❤ I’ve kinda lost track of who all has done this already or has already been tagged, so feel free to ignore me! But I tink I’m tagging @curator-on-ao3, @aini-nufire, @29-pieces, @flowers-creativity, @highfunctioningflailgirl, @cristobalrios and @the-goofball. And anyone else whom I forgot or who feels inspired to do this!

[bean-na-farraige-agus-foraoise]

Do you have any particular resources for “Eostre” being Bede’s own creation? I know there’s no other attestation and that there are debates among scholars as to this hypothetical goddess’s existence, but if you have the time/energy, I’d love to see more resources on it being definitively a joke / fake from Bede, rather than just a possible goddess we know very little about.

It’s more the use of basic logic, so I’m just going to spell out my argument. I only have one direct quote so one citation, because again, my argument is based on logic and the way one ought to approach medieval sources that then get picked up by 19th century scholars. (I also discussed this at length with an old professor of mine who focuses on medieval theology so much of this is from my notes rather than like textbooks).

I first look at the author, Bede himself. He, like most historians of his day, is not exactly known for being accurate- his other most famous history, the  Ecclesiastical History of the English People is just chock full of propaganda, omissions, and his own personal agendas- he literally avoids talking to native Britons as he’s heavily biased against them. Bede has also been described as having “often used figures of speech and rhetorical forms which cannot easily be reproduced in translation, depending as they often do on the connotations of the Latin words (1)"- which in companion with the propaganda and his own personal agendas makes it very likely that someone unfamiliar with Bede’s writing style like... perhaps a certain German, possibly one by the name of Grimm, would take what he said at face value without taking into account any of the historical and ecclesiastical influences on Bede’s writing. 

The work that Eostre originates in is known as The Reckoning of Time, and focuses on one of Bede’s favorite topics... calendars. And I don’t want y’all to say that I’m making Bede out to be an idiot, because he isn’t, what I’m saying that the man is significantly more reliable as a scientist and a linguist than as a historian. The Reckoning of Time, written in 725, discusses things that a lot of modern day people think that those in the middle ages couldn’t possibly know such as an explanation of how the spherical Earth influenced the changing length of daylight, of how the seasonal motion of the Sun and Moon influenced the changing appearance of the new moon at evening twilight, and a quantitative relation between the changes of the tides at a given place and the daily motion of the Moon.

But the thing with Eostre is that the arguments made by proponents of Eostre’s reality don’t seem to add up. They argue that Eostre is a survival of the goddess  h₂éwsōs, who has a set mythology and role, she is the bringer of dawn, an opener of the doors of heaven, and a goddess of light- and while I have no linguistic scruples with the possibility that linguistically Eostre evolved from h₂éwsōs I do think that there are some issues with this argument. Eostre has no such role and indeed, according to proponents of her existence, like Grimm, has an entirely different role as a goddess of spring, of rebirth, a theme that by the first century AD was associated with Easter (aka several hundred years before we see Eostre being attested, and over a thousand years separated from Grimm’s claims). The associations with Easter and rebirth are what brings the rabbit and the egg into the picture. Furthermore when constructing an image of Eostre, Grimm and Holtzmann the individuals most responsible for the modern view of Eostre, just kinda..... pull aspects of goddesses from other cultures- they pull a little bit from Aphrodite, snag an aspect or two from Freyja. And in fact one of the most popular myths surrounding Eostre, that she turned a bird into a rabbit and that’s why the Easter rabbit lays eggs, was once described as “one of the oldest myths in the world” despite it being a recent fabrication as of 1900. 

Several older texts that mention Ostara such as the Althochdeutsches Schlummerlied announced in 1859 by Georg Zappert is considered a forgery. Grimm, Zappert, and Holtzmann were looking were a common thread of Germanic connection on which to build a German national mythology. Germany would not be a unified state until 1871 and was instead a region of disparate and often un-unified small states that were frequently invaded by larger nations, such as France. A German national mythology and a German national history came to be key points in the unification of Germany, and later became a focal point of German fascism. 

Furthermore much of the arguments in favor of Eostre seem to rely on what appear to me, to be flimsy linguistic claims that were only thought up in relation to Bede’s posited goddess Eostre and Grimm’s claims of Eostre’s importance in Germany despite his.... making up the things about her..... but I digress- many of the things that are held up as “proof” of Eostre’s existence seem to come from hypothetical linguistics, it’s very much an attempt to connect certain sounds and popular German names to a figure who’s existence was not mentioned prior to Bede’s work, who was popularized by a German nationalist, and then whose holiday was taken and used in what was asserted to be a survival of ancient religion (Wicca- as published in Gardner’s Witchcraft Today) just four years prior to the discovery of the artifacts that are shown as proof of Eostre’s existence in 1958. And while many of these inscriptions have been attributed to Eostre, many of the inscriptions are also incomplete, and several of them have been attributed to a social group rather than a deity. Claiming that a deity exists because you see what is believed to be a linguistic connection to their name (which again was not attested to until the 8th century) is just.... it’s like the Danu situation for Gaelpol all over again. Basing linguistic studies off of hypothetical goddesses with highly debatable origins just doesn’t feel like proof to me. 

But back to Bede, Eostre is not the only deity he just creates while writing The Reckoning of Time. And Eostre is not the only deity that Grimm grabs up as being a real Germanic figure who is otherwise unattested- Rheda is also just brought into existence and shoved into a similar situation as Eostre- made into a fertility goddess because of which month Bede ascribed them to and preconceived notions of what would be celebrated at that time of year based on over a thousand years of Christian influence and associations already held with the Easter holiday. Also, Grimm does the same thing to Rheda that he does to Eostre, in that, because nothing is given of her, he pulls aspects from other deities to flesh out her character- giving her similarities to the Roman Mars. 

And even beyond Bede’s writing- some arguments have posited that the age in which Bede was raised (shortly after the conversion was completed) would have allowed him to talk to people about aspects of religion that would have not have fully died out. Which is fair, but one must also keep in mind that Bede was sent to live in a monastery when he was 7 years old, and that he and the Abbot who raised him were among the only survivors of a plague that struck when Bede was 14. This was not a life that allowed for much other than ecclesiastical education- and Bede cites local pagan authors in his his other writing, but none of them discuss Eostre or Rheda. It seems to me as though when writing The Reckoning of Time, that Bede, who was also discussing Greek and Roman cosmology and mythology might have seen the space for a goddess of spring in Anglo-Saxon mythology and just filled in the gaps utilizing the Germanic word for Easter as his base (remember, Bede was a linguist). 

But beyond this, it’s important to me that people remember that medieval monks were human. They were political beings, they were capable of having a sense of humor, they had agendas- Bede’s agenda was calendars, but it was an agenda nonetheless. And historians, archaeologists, anthropologists, they all have agendas, they have opinions, things that influence their arguments- don’t just take what they say at face value but examine why. 

But I raise the bar to you now- why do you believe in a hypothetical goddess, what evidence do you have that says she’s real? 

Ultimately my only dog in this fight is historical literacy and accuracy because I don’t follow the Germanic gods, I’m a Gaelic polytheist. It doesn’t matter to me what gods people follow even if I think they don’t exist, that’s not my fight- but seeing people claim that a holiday was stolen from a hypothetical deity really grinds my gears- particularly when those arguments are coming from people who couldn’t give me a single academic argument for their stance that hasn’t been disproven a thousand times over. 

1. Colgrave, Bertram; Mynors, R.A.B. "Introduction". Bede's Ecclesiastical History of the English People. (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1969).

[sontse]

                                          𝐑𝐀𝐕𝐊𝐀 & 𝐒𝐎𝐊𝐎𝐕𝐈𝐀

there are some mixed facts about sokovia across the mcu, so this is more of a set-in-stone reference for myself as pertaining to alina & any mcu characters I may write in the future. if you have constructive input, I am more than happy to listen! just know that some of the facts have not been mentioned & again, because of some lack of continuity regarding sokovia in general, some things mentioned in the films might be contradictory here for the sake of keeping consistency within the portrayal. *please note this is not technically our earth as we know it. instead of sokovia & ravka taking up territories of existing countries in our world, we are using our imagination to pretend that this extra territory simply already exists. 

SOKOVIA,  officially the republic of sokovia, is a landlocked country in eastern europe. It is bordered by ravka to the northwest, ukraine to the north and northeast, romania to the south, hungary to the southwest, & slovakia to the west. the official language is ukrainian. sokovia runs under a parliamentary system of democracy. the bulk of sokovia & its capital city was destroyed in 2015 & it’s neighboring countries claimed the remaining livable territory. 

motto: мир і свобода (ukrainian)  /  peace & freedom (english) capital: novi grad recognized regional languages: russian, czech, slovak, hungarian, romanian,  ethnic groups: sokovian, ukrainian, romanian, moldovan, hulgarian, slovak, ravkan, shu hun

RAVKA,  officially the kingdom of ravka, is a landlocked country in eastern europe. it is bordered by ukraine to its north, fjerda to the northwest, russia to the east, & shu han to the south. ravka is a total monarchy,and therefore is ruled by a king from the capital city of os alta. ravka is currently ruled by the lantsov dynasty.

capital: os alta recognized regional languages: ravkan, suli (considered a deceased language, like latin), russian, ukrainian, old ravkan ethnic groups: ravkan, suli, shu han, russian, ukrainian, romanian,

[clan-sayeed-fic]

Peaceful (Kamilah Sayeed & MC)

Book: Bloodbound (property of Pixelberry Studios)

Pairing: Kamilah Sayeed & MC: Amy (I do not own those characters, they’re the property of Pixelberry Studios as well.)

Warnings: let me think...

fluff- mhm, I think it might seem like that

smut- maybe some hints

angst- oh yeah 

Rating: Mature

Based on the one word anon request: peaceful

Author’s note:  I’m not a native English speaker, I’m sorry for any mistakes (feel free to correct me).

Huge thanks to the person who requested this fic 💕 I really hope I didn't make any stupid mistakes. These days were a little bit crazy for me, and my ability to focus is... well, it doesn't exist 😂😂  

Also, I'm sorry if you expected a different type of story. I tried to write something less obvious. You know, trying to be original hahaha 😂

~ 1500 words

----------------------

Peaceful

Pair of eyes opened lazily in the middle of the night, revealing a light shade of green. Both irises were glowing in the darkness as if they were never supposed to belong on the human's face.

Though, the human, is for sure, not the best word to describe Amy Sayeed.

The young, blonde woman lifted herself slowly on elbows as her muscles were waking up little by little after a deep sleep. It was still dark outside at this late hour, so she blinked a few times, trying to focus her vision on the surroundings.

"What woke me up?" crossed her mind silently as if her thoughts were afraid to disturb the night.

But the question was meant to fade away soon enough.

Because at that moment, Amy's attention was drawn to the person lying beside her on the bed. Her sleepy stare moved on the brown hair resting on the mattress, following the path of single strands spread on the woman's bare shoulders brightened by the intense light of the moon.

Amy couldn't take her eyes away from this shiny skin, knowing too well the feeling of touching it. The sensation of being able to kiss this trail down the muscular arm, straight to the wrist. And from there, slowly move to her palm. To finally reach this one finger on which she was wearing her ring during the day.

The ring that stands for their life being tied up with vows. Letting everyone else know that these two belong to each other.

Amy's mind worked faster as she followed the trace of faint marks on Kamilah's arm. A reminder of how their last night ended. Of how her own nails were holding onto brunette's skin, digging deep, holding tight. Just to scratch painfully on their journey to the edge.

It's been so long since she felt exhaustion.

So long since she knew what it meant to lose all the strength.

The same strength that received an entirely new meaning since the day she was turned. That day everything changed irreversibly.

With this thought, Amy lifted herself from the bed, making sure to not cause any unnecessary noise. She moved like a predator during the hunt, carefully choosing steps, aware of weak points of her surroundings.

She has been the predator ever since she could remember.

Finally, Amy approached the window without waking up her wife, which was, by itself, an impressive achievement. She was a good student from the start, with great potential, naturally gifted. But she knew too well that it took much more than that to outsmart Kamilah Sayeed.

The young woman stood there, staring at the smooth surface of the glass, meeting with her own reflection. Her hair was messy, pointing in all directions, so she reached there with her hands, trying to smooth it a little bit. As her fingers were brushing her hair, she smiled at the flashback of how stylized it was last evening.

It was the day of their wedding anniversary, one of many that they had the opportunity to experience throughout the years.

So there they were every single year, trying to make this day perfect, even after long decades of celebration. In an attempt to repeat the atmosphere of their wedding, they would not see each other until the hour of walking down the aisle.

This time, they met by one of the fanciest restaurants in New York.

Just to... spend there barely a minute.

Amy's eyes met with her reflection once again. She moved her hand to her mouth to finally wipe away the red stain. Even though it was so tempting to just lick it, to give it a taste this one more time.

Because no matter how many times she had the opportunity to do that, it seemed like never enough. The metallic flavor of blood became addictive after years of feeding. It affected her mind like a drug, stimulating her body more than anything else discovered on the Earth.

Amy moved both hands on the glass, cooling down her already icy skin. And as she did that, her mind took her on the journey back to the last evening.

***

She just moved her hands away from the window as the limousine stopped right by the previously arranged place. The chauffeur helped her get out of the car only to step aside right after to let Amy meet her date for the night.

Her date, for all nights for eternity.

"Perfect timing," a husky, feminine voice warmed Amy's heart, making her eyes search for the source.

To find this deep, chestnut stare, intensively keeping her own.

Amy's mouth slightly opened as she admired the view before her, taking these well-known for her features without blinking. Watching her wife wearing a new elegant suit, previously bought just for the occasion. Her necklace was glowing so brightly on top of it, outshining stars on the sky.

"Kamilah," Amy worshipped the sound of this name even after so many years spent together.

A smile appeared on their faces as they fell in each other's embrace, hugging tightly. Even if it was just half a day, once in a year keeping them apart like this, the reunion always felt special.

Kamilah pulled back after a moment, getting the full picture of her wife. Her eyes were shining more with every second as she did so, daring to flash with red. Finally, they looked at each other directly as a small smirk danced in the corner of the brunette's mouth.

"You look absolutely ravishing," Kamilah spoke aloud, not caring about people passing by. "And I really love this," her hand moved up with those words.

She wrapped a single curly strand that managed to escape from the rest of Amy's stylized hair. Kamilah played with it for a second just to move her hand back soon after, accidentally touching the sensitive skin on her wife's neck.

Touching it enough to send shivers down her spine.

To make her cheeks blush under her gaze, receiving the reaction that she waited for.

"Lily did her best to make it the same way," Amy smiled, trying to deflect the conversation from her. "And you look so beautiful, as always."

***

So beautiful.

Amy turned around, pressing her back against the window. Green eyes wandered on the body of her loved one, studying shapes she had known for so long, but they never ceased to amaze her.

The woman moved her gaze down the mattress all the way to the floor, looking through the clothes they wore that night. Amy's dress was now ripped apart in pieces, the black material threatened to disappear into the darkness.

Her body shivered uncontrollably at the flashback of how it felt when the fabric was torn apart on her body. How its last strings tried to stand in the way but eventually let go under the force of strong hands attempting to untie them.

She remembered the rush they were in. That excitement followed by adrenaline in their veins.

The intense taste of fresh blood still perceptible in their throats as they kissed passionately.

"Are we monsters?"

It has been so long since she asked this question aloud. So long since she tried to fool herself with excuses.

So unbelievably long since she finally realized that the answer was right there all along.

***

"Reservation for Sayeed, please."

They were standing side by side, ready for the waiter to show them their table. The restaurant they chose had the best reviews of all in the entire city. It was filled with famous figures, influential people, just like them.

Women planned to start their celebration by the bottle of wine and exquisite food, but something else got their attention.

Because at that moment, a strong scent hit them both, too strong to ignore. It caused Amy to dig nails in her wife's skin, scratching it under the suit as if making sure that she didn't miss it.

But her chestnut eyes were already filled with a spark of crimson.

"Actually," Kamilah spoke with a new tone, pulling her date closer to show affection. "I think we will change our plans for tonight," she smirked at the waiter, who nodded meaningfully without a word.

Soon enough, they found themselves outside, hit by the cold stroke of the night, both staring in the same direction.

Both tempted by sweetness carried by the wind.

They walked together casually, hand by hand, just to stop right in front of their destination. But even then, Kamilah took her time to gently touch Amy's cheek with one hand, leaning down to place the softest of kisses on her lips.

Only to pull back a moment after with the smirk.

"Happy anniversary, my love."

***

A subtle smile appeared on Amy's face after she joined her wife in bed.

She crawled silently behind Kamilah's body, breathing in the intoxicating scent of lavender. That's when it hit her.

Silence.

After those long decades of immortal life, filled with screams and begging for mercy, it was finally silent.

Silent to the point, it interrupted her dream.

But Amy already closed her eyes again, not able to think about it more as her mind drifted away slowly.

Falling right into the trap of the peaceful night.

[crimsonkingart]

Reflection on Founder Ymir, Eren Yeager and trauma processing

Or alternatively because I'm Eren Apologize (but not a Yeagerist) Or second alternative: a strange theory about Founder Ymir

Forgive any spelling errors, I'm not a native english speaker.

I thought long before to write this thought, some person will think it is weirdo, some have probably already taken the pitchforks and want to light the fire and burn me. That's okay. XD

I've been following AoT for several years and reading this ending has stirred a great wave of mixed feelings in my heart, but something, about this ending, doesn't convince me. In the fact many things do not convince me. Translating my thoughts from Italian to English is really complicated, but I want try.

Ymir: Her character appears little, we know her for a few chapters and she is presented as thw victim wife of King Fritz. Fritz is absolutely disgusting, a horrible man and Ymir obviously had stockholm syndrome, ((it is real clear how Fritz abuses on her physically and mentally)), but why then is it revealed that Ymir had really opened the fence? Why had Ymir opened the fence? Obviously, death and torture as a punishment for opening a fence is unfair, but why did she open the damn fence? Curiosity: in old Norse fence is "Utgard" In Norse mythology, Útgarðr (from Old Norse "outer enclosure") is the part outside of fence that encloses Miðgarðr, the Earth. Utgard is covered in ice and snow, and is the home of the ice giants. Furthermore, the term Utgard was used as a suffix for Loki, ((Útgarða-Loki)) precisely to indicate the concept that it came from beyond the borders of Midgard. And Loki is also a notorius trickster...

Ymir have the name of the first ice giant too, the one who created the earth and every species; always Ymir opens a fence; Ymir opening the fence breaks an order, a law. Ymir, on a symbolic way, this represents the breaking of a balance and perhaps represents Loki, and his dualism between good and evil. We will never know why Ymir opened the pig pen, but she did. But she did it.

Eren:

Eren inherits the attacking giant, the only one with the ability to see into the past and into the future. For this giant, time does not exist, he sees everything, but if this giant was a part of Ymir, maybe does this mean that Ymir, when she was a Titan, could see the future? It is said explicitly, clearly, that Ymir was omnipotent, so she could see the future?

And now the million euros question: why do you want to forgive Eren? Because Eren's behavior is that of a traumatized child, and yes, I know that many AoT characters have traumas and that they have not become genocidal monsters. But I'm not done explaining, so I go ahead: chapter 139 starts with Eren explaining his plan and the reasons for his plan to Armin, but after a few scenes Eren says he doesn't understand / he don't know what he's doing, is everything confused for him. Why does Eren seem so sure first and then confused? And why in the scene where he marches on the sea does he see himself as a child? Eren reveals that he had never felt free and he was somehow envious of Armin. For me, everything is explained in one word: dissociation. Explaining dissociation is difficult, but I try to explain it in a simple way: a dissociated person sometimes perceives reality in a distorted way, does not react in a healthy way to stimuli such as sadness and joy. Dissociation sometimes occurs as a result of trauma. Eren, in fact, has trauma, and I repeat, it's true, many AoT characters have trauma, but why did Eren become a genocide? Because Eren has a trauma never exceeded. Because Eren saw the future and only saw death. In the future Eren saw all his friends dead after reaching, finally and after many years, the sea and the free. Eren was, literally, crushed by these visions of death; that's enough to push someone have an extreme choice. I condemn Eren's gesture, but I forgive him as a person because he was afraid, and none of us know what he would have done in Eren's place to save his home and his friends. Eren also did not hate the Marlean, Eren hated himself because he did not see a way out for that shitty situation.

After these reflections on Ymir and Eren, I have other questions: Why did Ymir wait for Mikasa? Did Ymir want to free the Eldians? Did Ymir want to take revenge on King Fritz? Ymir, since she was omnipotent, could he have manipulated Eren by showing him only death deeply visions? We will never know. Yes, I have this theory, that Ymir may have fooled Eren. Why does Ymir smile seeing Eren beheaded? The answer might be “finally there are no giants anymore”, but why did she seem happy with Eren's death? Eren had saved Ymir, she cries for joy when someone finally understood her pain; but then why does she seem happy with Eren's death?

Many questions, few answers. In summary, for me, Ymir has an unclear behavior, and Eren seems to me clearly dissociated, not very lucid in some moments, maybe he even manipulated by Ymir. I'm sorry for him, for the future he saw, for having given up hope, because a person without hope is a person who feels dead. I'm sorry for Eren. I feel sorry for him. Eren wanted a better world, and he became an executioner and all because no one really escaped his fate, a destiny, perhaps, seen and wanted by Ymir.

Little "technical" note:

I like the Aot ending, very much, because it wasn't the classic black and white ending, it wasn't the classic happy ending. I loved Mikasa and Levi, and Erwin, I loved Reiner's journey, Jean's evolution, Sasha and Connie's sympathy. I loved many characters. I laughed and cried. I thanked Isayama for this courageous work. But despite this, I also have reservations about this last chapters; at the plot level, Ymir is clearly a Deus Ex Machina, literally a divinity, that is, a way to resolve an unsolvable plot according to the classic principles of cause and effect. A sometimes serious flaw in a story, but this is depends on how an author uses it. Ymir was a character with a lot of potential, but we don't know anything about she and Isayama, in my opinion, he preferred to finish the manga with chapter 139 because it was cool symbolically. 13 the number of years of life of a holder of giants and 9 the number of Titans. 13 in numerology symbolizes death and / or change. And much more could be said about the meaning, the plot, the emotions that he gave me, but the post was really long and I don't want to bore you. Writing such a long post is really a rare occurrence for me XD I don't like to talk, but I was too flustered about the AoT ending and the mixed feelings I had about Ymir.

Ps: for sure someone could misunderstand my words, so I repeat it here too, yes, I like Eren, I appreciate him as a character, I like that he made certain choices at the plot level because he felt, literally, like a rat in a trap, but no, I'm not a yeagerist and his actions, on a human level, are reprehensible. I hope it is clear.

[starkeristheendgame]

hey!! im really sorry to bother but i really love your writing & saw that you were taking prompts!! i was wondering if you could do one where tony has a sort of kink for calling peter ‘kid’ in a way, if your comfortable of course! sorry if my English isn’t the best!

I’m so sorry that this got buried to the bottom of my inbox! I hope you’re still around and that you get to see this, and I’m so sorry again that it drowned! I hope you enjoy it and I can only apologise if you hate it 😂

Also; please, please don’t ever apologise for your verbal or lingual ability. Learning another language is hard, and English is noted as one of (if not the most) hardest languages to learn. Being bi/multi-lingual is something to be insanely proud of!

I hope you don’t mind, but all of my prompts recently have been in canon universe, so this is a neighbours AU with no powers. In which Tony is a rich ex-businessman who just wants to tinker on old cars in his (not) retirement and Peter is the high school kid that won’t leave him alone.

TW: ‘Kid’ kink (the term) | Underage character | Underage (SS&C) sex | Daddy kink

Someone had bought the house next to his over the half-term. Peter knew this because the sale sign went down and the garden was immediately de-turfed and a notice was posted through everyone’s door on Wayforest Road that ‘minor construction’ would begun within the next two weeks, from 8am to 5pm daily, save for Saturdays and Sundays.

Peter wanted to laugh in - and then punch - the face of whoever decided to term it minor. Abruptly on the following Monday, almost a full half-hour before his alarm was due to go off, Peter was awoken by deep, loud voices and the clanging of scaffolding poles as the workmen arrived.

Groaning did nothing. Neither did flopping about pathetically on his bed like a beached fish. Burrowing under his duvet and his pillow was also a lost cause; he’d left his window open to keep his room cool in the night.

Seething, Peter flung himself from bed, turned off his alarm, and hopped in the shower. The workmen were gone when he came back, but the house was now a big, ugly grey thing besides his own, and he paused on the sidewalk to eye it mulishly. “If you’re another crabby old man; I’m not helping you walk your groceries up to your porch” he announced loudly to the empty house, and scuttled away to the safety of his own home after being eyed balefully and judgmentally by Mrs. Witkin’s cat.

At the dinner table, the new house and its new occupants were all Aunt May seemed to want to talk about, despite the way Peter’s face resembled less of his usual ‘ :) ‘ and more of a ‘ -.- ‘ as she went on, guessing the features of their new neighbour animatedly around mouthfuls of mashed potato.

Tuesday morning found him jolting awake to a shout of “Jim! Jim! For fuck’s sake, Jim, get tha’ fuckin’ plank!” In a thick, overly loud Irish accent.

By Friday, Peter was ready to forgo just a punch to the face, and was willing to commit all out, planned murder. At somewhere around seven-am every morning that week, the workmen had woken him up with their clanging and their shouting and their existing. Friday evening he stomped around the corner with a glower, fingers tight around his backpack straps. Not even Mrs. Witkin’s mean old cat could deter him from scowling at the house the entire way to his door.

Town rumours be damned; that cat was just old and judgemental, like half the residents there. It was no trapped old lady or cursed young Prince.

Hopefully.

Peter crossed himself on his porch quickly just in case. It could never hurt to be a little superstitious. Especially not after the day that Mr. Herald proclaimed himself immortal and was then promptly wiped out by the tree in his yard collapsing.

By the following Monday, Peter caved and stayed at Ned’s for the night, for the first time in his entire life thankful to hear the music of his alarm and not a series of clangs or yells. It was even good enough that Ned’s snoring didn’t disturb him as much as it usually did. He felt chipper, refreshed. Right up until he turned the corner and found his street lined with vans, the workmen a little late finishing.

The next two months were cesspit of noise and strange men and sleepless days off. Apparently the person who had bought the house must’ve only liked the area and nothing about the house at all, because by week three, all that remained of it was the bare skeleton, gutted and stripped and ugly. But Peter was willing to concede that his new neighbour had good taste.

By the end of the second month the house had been entirely re-built, and Peter was convinced that his new neighbour was some very famous or important person looking for a secret hideaway, or a mob boss. There was no other logical explanation. What had once been a decent but generic detached property with a neglected garden was now a mini-mansion of sorts, all soft creams and light earth tones, with a stonewall front and staggered steps that led onto a half-gravel and half-grass front yard.

Large paned windows were already lined with thick curtains and plants and a sweeping gravel-scape led to a large garage, that seemed to be the most work of the renovation. It was huge, probably taking up over half of what used to be side garden and dead grass. No fence bordered the property, but the difference between Peter’s space and the new person’s space was immaculate and definitive.

“Huh” he mused aloud, blinking. Suddenly, he was less irritated at all those lost half-hours and more curious about who was going to be living there. They had money, for sure. Inheritance? Insurance claim payout? Illegal happenings? Aunt May’s two joking theories were suddenly looking less of a joke and more genuine possibilities.

As it would happen, Peter wouldn’t actually find out for another three or so months. The man moved in on a Saturday, quietly and with a small fleet of sleek SUV vehicles and fancy moving vans. Peter enjoyed a lazy morning, napping until the start of the afternoon and basking in the summer warmth, stretching in front of his bedroom window and looking down in time to see the last of the delivery and moving people packing down their vehicles.

Peter eyed all the bodies curiously, but it soon became clear none of them were his new neighbour, because they all stood around, flipping through paperwork, and then promptly left. Peter lingered under the pretence of dusting at his window ledge, but the street was quiet and empty.

Aunt May was anything but quiet when he finally dragged himself downstairs in search of food. “Peter! Morning, honey. Did you see the vans outside? Very fancy. Big enough for bodies, too, though” May hummed, flipping through the book she was currently reading.

Thirty Ways To Revive Your Youth.

Peter grimaced, and begun to rummage through the cupboards. “Not to question your intelligence, but. Why would a mob boss carry around his victims? Like a few teeth or knuckles ought to serve as good souvenirs. I don’t think carting around whole bodies is practical” Peter pointed out, settling on fruity oatmeal. Aunt May paused in her reading, nose twitching to adjust her glasses as she considered it.

“Hm. Point. Unless they bought the house because they run out of burial room, and these are fairly recent bodies they need the new soil for” she pointed out, and Peter pointed his spoon at her as he passed.

“Point” he agreed.

And so the weeks passed, but the mystery remained. No matter what time Peter tired to linger, or how early he awoke, his neighbour never seemed to be around. Here and there he would catch a figure roaming past the windows, kinda like a ghost, but never a clear view or a face. It was vastly disappointing, but his interest didn’t wane over the months that spanned between his rueful lack of sleep and now.

Now being a hazy Saturday morning, warm but not overly stuffy. Peter was coming back from a morning at Ned’s wherein they’d been steadily chewing away at the LEGO Galactic Supership. He was halfway down the street when a large trailer vehicle begun to drift down the street steadily, heading straight in Peter’s direction.

He paused on the sidewalk, watching it with interest. It was a transportation vehicle, and as it drew closer Peter could see there was a car on the back of it, heavily clamped down and chained to make sure it wouldn’t roll off. The vehicle passed him by some, and he got a clear view of the other car. It looked old, a little broken, rusted. Huge, though. Bigger than all the cars he’d seen before.

It pulled up right outside his neighbours house. Sensing an opportunity, and genuinely curious, Peter lingered, taking a few steps across the sidewalk to eye the car. It was a glossy red, though it had sun fade and was patchy. The chrome was glossy in places and dull, rusted in others. One headlight was missing.

The door of the cab opened, and Peter turned on his heel to see the driver getting out. The friendly greeting died on his lips as toned, thick thighs slid from the cab, followed by trim hips and a long, solid torso only half-hidden under a tank-shirt and overshirt. Broad shoulders prefaced the hottest man that Peter had ever laid eyes on.

He had a shaped jaw that was cut by stubble in a unique style that Peter had never seen anyone wearing before. He had sharp cheeks and dark, deep eyes with long lashes, tanned but not exactly browned and dark, dark hair with the barest flecks of grey at the roots, at his temples.

The man seemed surprised to find him there, pausing mid-way through pushing the door shut and peering around the street before looking back at him. One shaped brow lifted, and Peter stumbled to remember his manners, thrusting out a hand.

“Hi, Mister. Sorry - I was looking at the car. Is it for the new house?” He asked, forcing himself not to blush under the intense gaze. After a brief pause, the man took his hand, palm large and slightly rough, grip firm. He was even more attractive up close, slight crinkles at the corners of his eyes, dark lips and the strong scent of motor oil and grease.

“Would seem that way”.

And Ho-ly voice. Deep and with the softest of rumbles, soothing like a thunderstorm in the far distance. Peter clutched at his jacket when their hands dropped, coughing politely to hide whatever facial expression he’d pulled. The man strode past him and to the car, beginning to work on the many safety straps and chains.

“Did they…Is this theirs?” Peter asked after watching him quietly for several moments with a gesture towards the house besides them. Peter had discovered the house had a second parking bay on the other side, where a glossy black muscle car from the 60′s never seemed to move.

“Theirs’?” The man echoed, pausing in his movements to look up at Peter with curious amusement. It occurred to him then that it was likely some random car recovery guy had seen his new neighbour(s) before he had.

“Uh…Well. I’ve never actually seen them. So I don’t know if its one person, or a whole family, or…” Peter trailed off meekly, looking over his shoulder at the building. It looked as empty as it always did, no lights on and no figures moving behind the windows.

“Townsfolk say its some celebrity having a breakdown. Others say its some old widow using her husband’s life insurance. Even heard from someone that its a mafia lord, settling down in the middle of some quiet ass nowhere town” the recovery man grunted, hauling on a thick, heavy chain. Peter flushed.

Yeah. He was…Guilty of some pretty crazy guesses. But come on. Someone buys a house, spends upwards of hundreds of thousands doing it over, and then…Nothing. No new faces at the grocery store. Never seen, or even heard. Like a ghost.

“They’re not big fans of being…Seen. I guess? I mean, I know a guy with groceries comes around every Monday. Sometimes multiple times a week, but he always puts them in the garage and leaves. And this town is full of judgemental old people - Half of whom probably have mercury poisoning or something. There’s gonna be some pretty wild speculations going around” he pointed out, moving closer to look at what appeared to be a scratch in the paintwork.

The car gave a faint creak as the man released all of the holds on this side, snorting as he rounded the back of the vehicle and went to the other side with a loud, amused snort. Peter followed, and stifled a gasp at the sight of the other car. The man turned, eyeing him for a moment, before nodding.

“Got T-boned by an estate car. But she’s a tough old thing. Heavy metals and good steel; not like today’s cars. She came out better off” he mumbled as he worked on a thick strap, carefully taking apart the various clasps and buckles. Peter approached the car carefully, stretching up on his toes to brush his fingertips over the warped metal. He felt almost….Sad for the car.

He traced the flaking paint and the twisted, dented metal tenderly, and when he pulled away, the man was watching him again, movements slowed as he pulled the material through the metal. “Is this their car? What good is it now if its all broken up?” He asked curiously.

The man ducked his head, moving onto another thick chain. “Its just the one guy. I guess its a…Hobby. Of his. Bought her yesterday at a scrap lot”. He seemed uncomfortable saying it, but to Peter it was like gold trust. One guy. Huh. A big old house like that? That seemed rather lonely. Maybe it really was some rich old person retiring, enjoying a quiet place and a mechanics hobby.

Peter was going to ask more, but the car was freed with a grinding sound, and the man gestured him carefully back with his hand, holding it out in front of Peter to walk him back like a horse, to a safe distance. The man used two remotes to bring the car to the ground, Peter watching in fascination as rotors and rolling mechanisms moved it backwards and onto the tarmac of the road.

“How do you plan on moving it now?” Peter asked, and immediately regretted it as the man shed his over-shirt. Biceps. Shoulders. Forearms. His throat went dry and he could feel the heat rising to his cheeks.

As it turns out, the plan was simply ‘push’. Peter scoffed, but was soon at a loss to anything but stare as the man leaned heavily against the trunk of the car, muscles bulging in the afternoon sun. Heavy or not, the car soon begun to roll, and after a moment Peter dropped his backpack and came up besides the straining man, leaning all his might against the metal.

It probably did fuck all, but the man gave him a wry grin all the same, chest heaving with deep, controlled breaths as they moved the car across the flat ground and onto the side-drive space. Peter’s shoulder ached and his arms and thighs suddenly felt like jelly, but the man slapped him across the back.

“Good effort, kid” and then moved away, heading towards the front door. Peter gaped as the man simply grasped the doorhandle and pushed the door open, and floundered on the drive. “Wait! You’re just gonna walk into his house?” He called, and the man paused mid-step, looking back at him.

“Well. I ought to just ‘walk in’. Its my house”. And with a lewd, perfect wink he was gone. Peter wasn’t entirely sure what to do with himself, flailing on the driveway with error logs flashing behind his eyes. That was his neighbour. His neighbour was some rich, late-thirty something hot-hot-hot guy who fixed broken classic cars.

“Oh my god” Peter muttered, stomping down the driveway to get his bags. Four months. He’d lived next to this Playgirl model for four months.

He decided against telling Aunt May. It felt selfish, but it also felt good to know he was the only person to have seen him. Even though he realised not long after reaching his room that he hadn’t even gotten his name. Peter waited by his window for hours, but saw neither hair nor hide of the man again. By morning, the transport truck was gone and the cherry red car was presumably inside the garage.

The damned guy was magic. There was no other explanation. Fuelled, Peter spent the Sunday morning in the kitchen, furiously baking with narrowed eyes and a plan. The muffins were done by mid-day, and Peter iced them carefully before boxing them, and stomping across the sidewalk to his neighbour’s house.

Peter knocked, and waited. Knocked again. Waited. “If you don’t answer the door then I’m just going to sit here” he announced loudly, knocking again before plopping down onto the porch just to prove a point. Several long minutes passed before his neighbour appeared around the corner, from the garage judging by the grease steaks up his arms, scowling.

“Kid. Here’s a life tip; if someone doesn’t answer the door, its because they don’t want company” the man huffed, but his eyes zeroed in on the box with intense curiosity, and Peter shrugged, smug.

“You came out, though” he pointed out, pushing himself to his feet. The man scoffed, but allowed him to follow, leading the way around the building where a small side-door was open.

“I came out about thirty years ago, kiddo. If that’s a congratulations cake, you’re a little late”. Peter tripped over the gravel, fighting his legs to remain upright and his stomach did a weird knot inside him. Oh. Not only was his neighbour hot, but he was at the least male inclined, too.

Very interesting.

“Actually, these are just welcome muffins. Chocolate and orange” Peter murmured, stepping inside the garage. It was bigger than it seemed, and the cherry red car stood in the centre, sanded down and clearly being worked on already.

“Peter, by the way. Peter Parker” he added after a pause, and almost offered his hand for a second time, but settled instead on thrusting the muffin box at the man. He raised a brow, but delved inside to pull one out, clearly eager at the prospect.

“Tony” he offered simply, and Peter tested it on his tongue, enjoying the shape. For now; he’d let the lack of a last name go. Good things in time, after-all. Choosing to invite himself to stay, Peter perched primly on top of the edge of the workbench, electing another raised brow, but Tony’s mouth was too full of muffin to object.

Tony begun to work as he ate, and Peter sat in content silence, watching as Tony and his bulging arm muscles took each wheel off the car and begun to strip it of all its chrome features. Peter checked his phone after a while and was surprised to find that around four hours had passed. May would be home from her sewing group about now. He ought to head home.

“I’ll be back tomorrow” he announced, and jumped at the same time Tony did, the man smacking his arm off warped metal with a shout. Tony whirled on him, eyes wide, gaze flicking between him and the door, before he looked…Confused.

“You’re still here?” He asked, and Peter snorted as he dusted off his pants, heading for the door with a shake of his head. May came home shortly after he did, and Peter supposed he ought to let her know that he’d be visiting Tony again tomorrow.

“So he’s not a mafia boss? Or a celebrity?” She asked around a mouthful of roasted chicken, looking rather disappointed as Peter shrugged and shook his head.

“He just seems…Aloof? I don’t know. Maybe he’s some business tycoon or something. But he seems nice. I’m just going over to help him with this car he’s got. It’s real nice, too” Peter hummed, and Aunt May narrowed her eyes at him.

“Are you sure? I mean, you don’t know him. He’s a stranger. Albeit a hot one, apparently. And you have school tomorrow, too. You shouldn’t be hanging around strangers. Unless…If he happens to be single…I’d be open to his number” May shrugged after a pause, and Peter blinked.

May was surprisingly easy to placate, and he assured her that if she wanted to, she could march right over to Tony and give him a Mother Hen Talk after dinner, but she decided against that, and in favour of a hot bath. School on Monday rolled around quicker than Peter could say ‘garage’ and he decided against telling Ned about Tony.

He wanted Tony all to himself. At least…For as long as he could. It was strange, but he found his heart thumping as he marched down Tony’s driveway and up to the garage door this time, knocking on it loudly. He’d brought lemonade and sandwiches this time.

The garage door opened, and Tony looked equally as startled to see Peter there as he had the day prior, gaze raking his body before frowning, and stepping aside with a sigh. “You’re like a mosquito, kid. I came here to get away from people” Tony announced pointedly, and Peter founded on him with an unimpressed gaze and an arched brow of his own.

“If you truly wanted to get away from people, you’d have moved out in the mountains or something. Now, get back to work. In an hour you can stop for supper. I brought chicken sandwiches” he ordered, taking his seat from the day before and pulling his calculus homework from his bag.

He kept his gaze down as Toy stared at him, mouth opening and closing several times, before he went for his wrench, muttering to himself as he lay down on a wheeled bench and rolled under the car. Peter smiled quietly into his papers. A little over two hours later - he lost count, sue him - Peter pushed himself to his feet and strode over to the car, kicking Tony lightly in the ankle that stuck out.

“We can eat now” he announced, walking back over to his pack and taking out the tupperware he’d packed this morning. He could hear the sound of the wheels moving, and he turned, holding out the box. Tony looked perplexed, but approached and took it, still looking puzzled even as he bit into his own portion.

“Not that the pattern of snacks isn’t appreciated, kid, but…Why are you here?” he asked after he’d swallowed, and Peter actually had to think about it, flushing as his mind conjured up inappropriate responses like ‘I want to lick your arms’ and ‘You look like the hot mechanics in my pornos’.

He settled on a shrug, chewing slowly for more time. “You’re interesting. You’re my neighbour. You’re not a mafia boss or a broken down celebrity” he pointed out. Tony twitched on the last one, but gave a hum and moved away, scarfing down the last of his sandwich and returning to the car. This time, when Peter informed him he was leaving and would be back tomorrow again, Tony neither jumped nor looked surprised.

It became a pattern. Three out of seven days a week, Peter would sit in the garage with his homework or revision and Tony would work on the red car, which Peter came to learn was a 1958 Plymouth Fury. “Just like in Christine” Tony had huffed proudly, and had then been quickly appalled when Peter had simply stared blankly.

That night, Peter had watched the movie, and his next visit was spent talking animatedly about it with Tony, discussing their favourite parts and what it might be like if it was ever re-made. After a month, Aunt May picked her way across the gravel to finally meet the man her adopted son kept disappearing off to be with, and Peter had the unfortunate experience of watching them flirt together, Tony in a cheeky, smooth, outrageous manner and Aunt May like a school-girl. When he begun to gag in the corner, Tony threw an oil rag at him.

One day, a week before the summer holidays, Peter rounded the corner to find Tony stood on the porch, looking angry and tense and talking to a tall woman with red hair, tied up in a ponytail. Peter stopped and lingered, unsure of what to do. Besides him and May, he’d never seen anyone else talking to Tony. Even the grocery delivery guy simply put the bags in the garage and left.

After a while, the woman turned away, looking sullen and displeased, and slipped into a sleek black SUV, pulling off with a screech of her tires and the rev of her engine. By the time Peter reached the house, Tony was back inside, and he knocked quietly, leaning closer to the door.

Tony didn’t answer.

“Mr. Tony? I’m not sure what happened, but…If you’re not up for hanging out today, its cool. I brought soup, but I’ll leave yours on the porch. It might be hot, so…Be careful”. Peter stooped and left the thermos close to the door, before leaving. He felt uncomfortable for the rest of the day, longed to go see Tony, but everything in his gut told him to let him be for a time.

Whoever that man had been, he was clearly someone Tony didn’t like or want around.

Almost a whole week passed in which Tony didn’t answer the door, and by the Saturday, the first official day of the summer holidays, Peter was moping. Not to anyone that asked, but it was clear to even Ned that he’d been a little down lately, declining a celebratory LEGO fest in exchange for slinking up to his room.

No sooner had he toed off his shoes, the doorbell rung. Peter groaned, turning on his heel and abandoning his sweater on the staircase. It was probably another of Aunt May’s Amazon orders. Since she’d discovered the wonders of online shopping, Peter had learned their regular post-man was named Greg, he had two kids and a poodle, and was allergic to shrimp.

“What has she bought this ti- Tony?” Peter paused mid-sentence, eyes widening at the sight on his doorstep. Tony looked rough, dark circles under his eyes, his face looking more lined than before, but he gave a weak smile up at Peter, still stiff and unsure.

“Hey, kiddo. Figured you might…I made spaghetti. And I still have your thermos. Was gonna work on the car a bit”.

Peter recognised it for the attempted invitation that it was, and didn’t bother to fight off his broad grin. “Lucky for you, I love spaghetti. I just gotta grab a sweater on” he beamed, practically flinging himself up the stairs. Tony’s spaghetti was amazing, with some kind of pink-ish sauce, little chunks of shrimp and prawns, all tangy and sweet.

He even let Peter help with the car. Or…Well. He let Peter hold the torch. And the wrench. But still.

He was still grinning when he skipped home that evening, and when he crawled into bed his dreams were filled with oil-stained arms and a low, rumbling voice. He gasped awake in the early hours, cock hard and leaning against his hip, Tony’s voice echoing in his skull.

He shouldn’t.

He bit his lip and reached down, whimpering as he wrapped a hand around himself. He was too hard to last more than a few minutes, stifling his yell of “Tony!” Into his pillow as he came. When he arrived at Tony’s house later in the day, he could barely look the man in the eyes, flustered and shy.

The holidays continued in a similar fashion. They hung out almost every day in the garage, often for an entire day. Peter felt guilty about abandoning Ned, but looking at Tony’s broad smile, listening to his quips, watching his abs flex under his shirts as he lifted things...It was worth it.

By the fourth week of his holidays, after numerous days of lounging together with takeout and Tony helping him with his homework, Peter piped up.

“Peter”.

“What?”

“My name. It’s Peter” he repeated, nudging Tony gently where they lay together on the floor of the garage, staring up at the underside of the car. It was almost complete. Something to do with the clutch, and then all it needed was new paint. “You keep calling me ‘kid’. So. Y’know. In case you’d forgotten” he hummed.

Besides him Tony stilled, only briefly, before relaxing and swatting at him. “You are a kid, though”.

“I’m sixteen. I’m not a kid” Peter huffed, rolling onto his side and kneeing Tony in the thigh. Tony let his head loll, looking across at him with dark, dark eyes, and Peter’s breath hitched. Tony was close enough to kiss. And god, Peter wanted to kiss him. Had spent the past few weeks staring at his body, his mouth when he talked, waking up at night hard and aching.

Peter let his gaze drop, to plush lips outlined by dark stubble, and then he pushed himself up, momentarily hovering over Tony as he got his legs beneath him. “And you’re an old man” he tried, teasing, tugging at a lock of hair at Tony’s temple.

For the briefest, briefest of moments, Tony’s gaze went even darker. Hungrier. Peter thought about it in the shower that night, two fingers stuffed inside himself with too-little prep, mewling against the shower tiles. Almost as if…

He begun to get bolder. Touched Tony more. Stood closer. Any excuse to be in his space. If Tony noticed he said nothing, only giving lingering, unreadable looks and only ever turning away with a poorly hidden smirk whenever Peter said anything just a little too obvious.

On the last week of his holidays, Peter was kneeling half over Tony, dabbing gingerly at a slice on his bicep while the man clutched an ice-pack to his knee. The cherry red car was out, and an old, 1957 Chrysler Saratoga was in. And apparently, angry.

“Kid, seriously. I’m fine” Tony huffed, swatting at him as he dabbed away another crust of blood, peering at the wound. It wasn’t that deep, but it had bled something fierce. Peter lifted his gaze, scowling at him.

“I’m not a kid!” He snarked, pressed a little too hard on the wound just because he could. Watched Tony flinch under his touch and instantly felt guilty. He pulled away the cloth and ducked down, pressed a kiss to the wound before he could ever think about it. Aunt May had always done it for him, kissing his ouchies better. He froze, lips against jagged skin.

“Kid” Tony rasped, looking down at him with wide, dark eyes. Peter jerked backwards, and huffed.

“Keep calling me kid, I’m gonna start calling you ‘old man’“ he scowled. He was about to say ‘Or worse, Dad’, but…That was a bumpy road and he wasn’t ready to loose whatever he had built with Tony. Not yet. The older man snorted back at him, eyes rolling, and reached out, fingers closing around his jaw gently to shake his head a little.

“Look at you. You are. That little baby face. And you’re so small, like a cat. All slender. Couldn’t even lift up the gearbox. All big eyes and too must trust. I could’ve been an old pervert or sex criminal and you just walked right up to me and wouldn’t leave” Tony murmured, voice half-gone and gaze fixed on where he held Peter’s jaw.

“Wouldn’t - Did not” Peter managed, though he was already getting hard, his breathing was already a little shorter. Sharper. Tony gave a deep breath, fingers flexing against his jaw.

“You’re just a kid. A little baby. All soft-cheeked and gentle. You’re a kid now and you’ll be a kid for a long time. Nothing like me”.

And. Huh.

Peter blinked, jaw still clasped in Tony’s grip, and he relaxed his body, inching a little closer. “What is it about that, then? Why is that such a bad thing?”

“Its not. Its not bad. I’m just…I’m the bad one. Christ. Kid. You’re - You sit here doing homework. You don’t even have facial hair yet. I bet you haven’t even popped a stiffy before”. The words startled Tony as much as Peter, both visibly jolting, and Tony immediately looked like he wanted to die.

“Hey! Not true! Every night this holiday I’ve done more than ‘pop a stiffy’ over y-”. Peter bit down on his tongue, hard, watched the way Tony’s eyes widened. Fuck. They both jerked backwards, equally as taken aback by the revelation. There was no doubt as to what Peter had been about to say. Now way he could laugh it off or change it; though the subject was bad enough.

“I…”

“Kid…”

Peter huffed, leaning back on his haunches and dropping the cloth. “What, you got a kink for the word or something, Mister Tony?” Peter grumbled, but he could see Tony physically tense up opposite him, and he looked up, watched the almost shameful way that Tony turned his gaze away.

It hit him.

“You…Do” he huffed numbly.

“Its not…Christ. Peter. I’m not a…I’m not attracted to kids. I don’t know what it is. I just…Fuck. Maybe you should be calling me an old pervert. Fuck. I…Peter. You have to believe I don’t..I’ve never touched a kid. Never. My youngest partner was twenty when I was thirty. She was a hooker in Dubai and…Wait. You’re a fucking kid. I shouldn’t be talking about hookers and swearing and-”

Peter clamped a hand over Tony’s mouth, shaking his head. Jesus. He knew it was true, though. Tony was a recluse and laughably inept at anything social, but he wasn’t some scorned kiddie-toucher banished to a quaint little town.

“I know, Tony. I know. And I believe you. But if its not that, then…What is it?”. Tony only blinked at him slowly, for several beats, and it was then that Peter realised that his hand was on Tony’s mouth, and the man couldn’t speak. Though he could well have moved it himself. He let it drop, flushing.

“I don’t know” Tony croaked helplessly, and he looked so small, so lost. It was instinct that had Peter leaning forwards, gathering Tony in a tight embrace. The older man stiffened, but then relaxed, hand hesitantly falling to Peter’s side, featherlight like he was scared to touch him.

“Its…You’re so delicate. So…Untouched. Like a painting. Pretty. You shouldn’t be touched. Not yet. Not by me. But I want to”. It made Peter’s spine tingle and arch, letting out a surprised breath against the curve of Tony’s jaw. Tony made him sound like the Mona Lisa or something.

“I’m not a good person, Peter. I’m…All these months, you don’t even know my last name. Half the town thinks I’m a murderer or some kind of lunatic. But I’m worse than that”. Tony practically breathed it into his shoulder, head falling. Peter clutched at him, suddenly scared. Worse than those things?

“Tony Stark”.

Peter paused. Was silent for such a long time that Tony tensed against him again, before he begun to pet gently at Tony’s shoulders. “…Who? I mean, the name is vaguely familiar. But…Who?”

Tony pulled away, leaned back, looking up at him with glossy eyes and a ludicrous expression. “Stark. Tony Stark”.

Peter raised a brow. “Bond, James Bond?”

“What? No. The weapons company? Stark Industries?” Tony asked after a pause, like it was information Peter ought to know. After another pause of his mind being ridiculously blank, Peter sat upright, head tilting.

“Oh! Yeah. Stark Industries. But…What about it?”

Tony blinked at him, slowly, like there was a punchline he’d missed, and then he was reaching out, crushing Peter to his chest to the boy fell half over him with a yelp, squeezing him gently.

“You’re - Unbelievable. Never change, kid. I’m…I did bad things. I killed people. Carried on the family name despite spending my life trying to outrun it. I…I was betrayed. So I fixed it, and I left. And I was supposed to keep my hands off anything good. Anyone good. And here you are”.

“Okay. Firstly? You gotta stop calling me ‘kid’ now I know its a kink and you don’t intend to do anything about it. Secondly…I don’t know what you did. Or what happened. But I know what you’ve been since you got here. Who you’ve become. And I think you’re a good man” he breathed, adjusting so he was no longer straining, half-straddling Tony.

“You shouldn’t…” Tony didn’t finish the sentence, and there were a million things he could’ve said. But Peter chose to ignore them all, squirming his way closer until he really was sat in Tony’s lap. And this was more than they’d ever done.

More than the one-armed hugs and lingering touches, more than leaning shoulder-to-shoulder eating noodles. More than Peter listing against Tony’s side in the early morning hours, maths homework forgotten on the bench and Tony sitting still, so still, so as not to wake him.

“I’m old enough to know ‘should’ and ‘shouldn’t’, Mr. Stark. Besides. This is just…Hugging. Right? Innocent” he hummed, even as he deliberately shifted on Tony’s lap, a little heavier than he ought to, spread his legs wider around Tony’s hips.

“Ki- Peter” Tony huffed against him, fingers tightening around the hem of his sweater. It wasn’t until Peter shifted again that he realised; Tony was hard. Well. Getting there, but hard enough for Peter to recognise it. To feel it, digging into the round meat of his asscheek.

“I don’t touch kids” Tony repeated, and Peter snorted softly, shaking his head as he gripped at Tony’s broad shoulders, muscle honed by years of hard work. Muscle that led up to rough stubble, a sharp jaw that Peter nosed at.

“Good thing I’m not actually a kid then, Mr. Stark. That means you can touch”.

Tony surged forwards on a growl, lay Peter out like a feast on the garage floor; but still hovered over him. Reluctant. Uncertain. Peter lifted his legs, wrapped them around Tony’s waist, tight and steady. “Kiddo…”

“Mm. Your kiddo. Or I could be. If you kissed me” Peter grinned, breathless and bold with the sweet taste of Tony so close. Mere inches. “Kiss me” Peter repeated, and Tony growled as he surged downwards.

When Tony came, it was with ‘kid’ sharp and electric on his tongue. And…Well. Peter felt a little mollified, so naturally, it led to round two, pressing Tony down against the concrete, milking him for all he was worth as a broken ‘Peter!’ cracked on his tongue like a prayer.

The rounds after that were just…Well.

Purely selfish.

[paradoxcase]

After Gandalf heals Theoden (in the book it is described as healing, there is no scene where Saruman is actually in possession of Theoden or where he personally battles Gandalf), he suggests that Theoden should send Eomer out to defeat Saruman (in the book Eomer was a prisoner at Edoras at this point, freed when Theoden was healed) and lead the rest of his people to a safe place.  Theoden says,

‘Nay, Gandalf!’ said the king.  ‘You do not know your own skill in healing.  It shall not be so.  I myself will go to war, to fall in the front of the battle, if it must be.  Thus shall I sleep better.’

There’s note on this piece of dialog in the companion, where basically, where someone wrote to Tolkien to complain about all the archaic dialog in the Two Towers, to which Tolkien responded, a) it’s appropriate to complain about people who use affected archaism without actually knowing how archaic English worked, but Tolkien is a linguist who studied the Anglo-Saxons and most certainly does know how archaic English worked and always uses it correctly, b) Tolkien has actually spent so much time studying Anglo-Saxons that he’s actually more comfortable with archaic English than with modern English anyway, and c) really, it could be much worse, Tolkien could have made the dialog even more archaic.

Then he provides some translations of this piece of dialog, first into “even more archaic”:

‘Nay, thou (n’)wost not thine own skill in healing.  It shall not be so.  I myself will go to war, to fall...’ etc.

And then into modern English:

‘Not at all my dear G.  You don’t know your own skill as a doctor.  Things aren’t going to be like that.  I shall go to war in person, even if I have to be one of the first casualties.’

He then wonders, what would come next?  He suggests “I shall lie easier in my grave”, but claims that no one who speaks modern English would say such a thing and thus it would sound out of place.  (It was only at this point that I realized that when Theoden said “thus I shall sleep better” he doesn’t mean literally that he will sleep better at night, but that his soul will rest easier after he dies.)

Anyway, I’m not entirely sure what Tolkien means here.  It’s not true that we don’t talk about resting or sleeping in death or the idea of being at peace versus not at peace after death, because we say “rest in peace”.  It is true that we don’t generally consider fighting in battle to have an effect on our souls after death, like I think the full weirdness of how medieval people regarded war is not fully apparent to us because all that stuff is dressed up in this medieval aesthetic which we’ve learned to regard as romantic and valorous.  Like, if a modern-day seventy-year-old army general unretired and decided to go fight on the front line of a war with the other soldiers because it was brave and valorous, in spite of this not being tactically beneficial and maybe it even being tactically a bad idea, we would think he was nuts.  But this is exactly what is happening in this scene with Theoden.  And yes, if you strip it of the aesthetic, it seems weird.  But this is fantasy, characters talk about things which seem new and strange to us as a matter of course.  Like, what type of dialog or aesthetic would you suggest for Mr. Weasley talking about how amazing and neat everyday modern technology is, or for the descriptions of Diagon Alley or other fantastic elements of Harry Potter?  Tolkien is obviously going for a particular time period here, as the companion frequently reminds me by continually explaining how everything about Rohan is really just Beowulf in Middle Earth, but I think there’s no reason you couldn’t express medieval ideas in modern English.  It’d sound odd, but isn’t that the point of fantasy?

Also:  In the scene where Theoden casts Wormtongue out, they do use some of the book dialog, but the movie is much more direct about it.  This is how it goes down in the book (if I may be pardoned by our lord and savior Tolkien for paraphrasing the dialog in modern English):

Hama: I found your sword, my lord, Wormtongue was keeping it in a locked chest, we also found a bunch of other stuff he’d stolen from other people in there, too.

Wormtongue: That’s not true!  Anyway, Theoden gave me this.

Theoden: And now I’m asking for it back.  Anyway!  Guess what?  We’re going to war.  And so are you.  Hurry up, you just have time to clean the rust off your sword.

Wormtongue: Oh please, my lord, please don’t send your loyal servant from your side!

Theoden:  I’m not.  I’m going to ride into battle too!  And you’ll come with me by my side.

Wormtongue: ...don’t you need a trustworthy steward to stay behind and keep the castle up?

Eomer: If this pathetic request doesn’t excuse you from war, what more degrading position will you accept instead?  Maybe you will offer to schlep grain to Helm’s Deep, if anyone would trust you with it?

Gandalf: No, no, you don’t understand what he wants.  He’s trying to find a way to continue working for Saruman.

Wormtongue:  That’s not true!

Gandalf:  You say that a lot.  Anyway, you’ve been a very good stooge so far, and Saruman tends to forget about nice things people have done for him.  Maybe you should go back and remind him what a good boy you’ve been so you can get your reward?  You see, Theoden, there’s a problem: we’ve found a snake.  It’s dangerous to take it with you, it’s dangerous to leave it here, it’s sensible to kill it but we probably shouldn’t.  So, give him a horse and let him go wherever he likes, and make your opinion of him based on what he chooses.

Theoden:  Ok, Grima.  Here’s your choice: you can come with me and ride to battle, or you can go off somewhere else.  Think carefully.  If you make the wrong choice, we probably shouldn’t meet again.

Wormtongue:

Slowly Wormtongue rose.  He looked at them with half-closed eyes.  Last of all he scanned Théoden’s face and opened his mouth as if to speak.  Then suddenly he drew himself up.  His hands worked.  His eyes glittered.  Such malice was in them that men stepped back from him.  He bared his teeth; and then with a hissing breath he spat before the king’s feet, and darting to one side, he fled down the stair.

Indicidentally, when most people hear Wormtongue’s name they probably think of worms.  But actually, it’s from wyrm, which is Old English for serpent (Rohirric is, basically, Old English).  He’s named that because he’s deceitful, not because he’s icky.

Minor shipping note: Apparently Tolkien originally intended for Aragorn to get together with Eowyn, and only added Arwen to the story later.  So, he didn’t actually plan for there to be a love triangle, he just changed his mind while writing the story and I guess didn’t want to get rid of the Aragorn/Eowyn UST in the new version.  Arwen does definitely seem like a character who was added at the last minute - in the movie she has actual scenes and dialog, and is an actual character with a personality, but in the book if you blink you miss her existence entirely.  Aragorn occasionally says things that have subtext related to Arwen, but if you’re reading for the first time you’ll completely miss this unless either a) you’re the kind of shipper who shipped Blaise Zabini before even knowing what gender he was, or b) you already read the appendix that’s about Aragorn and Arwen. 

Another note is that Wormtongue’s obsession with Eowyn is only mentioned in the above paraphrased scene as yet another thing that makes him awful, he doesn’t actually have any interactions with Eowyn at all, and presumably it is never important again because I don’t think Wormtongue is ever within arm’s reach of Eowyn ever again.

[crusherthedoctor]

As someone who plays games and enjoys stories that aren't terrible, I always love it when the setting of a tale is allowed to truly manifest. That is to say, when there's just as much attention put into it as there is for the characters, to the point where the setting might as well be its own character. It doesn't always have to be completely in-your-face mind you, but generally speaking, if you can feel the amount of personality given to the location, there's a nine out of ten chance that I'm going to appreciate it. Bonus points if it's really pretty.

Naturally, this extends to the world of Sonic. Though the level of backstory varies when not taking Japanese manuals into account, the many islands/planets/theme parks in space/parallel dimensions Sonic has visited over the years nonetheless tend to hold a lot of charm with the way their zones and stages are presented. And when it comes to Sonic in particular - when they're at their best - his style of environments have the perfect aesthetic for my personal tastes: full of whimiscal, cartoony character, yet beautiful and sincere at the same time (or ominous and sincere, in the case of Eggman's moodier fortresses and the like).

So it goes without saying that this has been one major focus of mine while writing for Sonic & Tails: Beyond the Stars, my own little fanfic adventure for the blue hedgehog. From the moment I started putting my story into words, I wanted to make an effort to give the land of Viridonia the same love and focus that was given to the likes of Angel Island and the Little Planet in the official installments. Granted, it helps that the nature of my story already relies on a considerable amount of presence for my setting, but that alone would be insufficient. We have to go deeper. We have to go... advanced.

Long story short, I spend far too much time imagining locations in my head for my oh-so-epic fanfic where a 90's caricature confronts his breakfast mascot arch-nemesis for the nth time. Seriously, do not underestimate me on this. I think about the colour schemes. I think about the architecture. I think about not only what type of music would fit each location, but also the specific mood to go along with it. “No guys, it would have THIS kind of icy music, not THAT kind of icy music.”

Hell, I even make crappy MSPaint flags that represent each of the zones, Unleashed-style, which are “proudly” displayed in the appropriate chapters. I'm on a drug, and that drug is making Sonic settings come to life despite existing purely in written form. Please help me.

So I figured I might as well expand a bit on some details that may interest those of you who read my fic, that couldn't be acknowledged too much in the fic itself without severely ruining the pacing of the story in the process. Note that you will NOT miss anything important in the fic proper if you skip on these posts. It's just a fun bit of behind-the-scene elaboration on the thought and inspiration involved, if you're into that sort of thing. Nothing more, nothing less.

Oh, and by the way? I hope you like Spyro the Dragon comparisons, because there's gonna be a lot of them as this series goes on, and I won’t be sorry for any of it. :] Yes, it's hardly surprising that my equal love for Spyro's environments (specifically Classic/Reignited Spyro, as I was never a Legend or Skylanders fan) plays a recurring influence in the way I visualize my Sonic zones, mainly with the way colour contrast is often used. That's not to say that the Sonicy aspects are lost or forgotten, though. After all, their universes are already pretty similar in terms of general aesthetic, so it's not too much of a stretch anyway IMO.

Anyhow, this intro has gone on long enough, so let's begin with the central hub of Viridonia, shall we? (I was originally gonna lump in Trudy’s castle and Gleaming Meadows in the one part, but each of them ended up being even longer than I expected, so uh, guess they’ll have to be separate.)

Creating the Hub: Lime Shores

Right off the bat, my goal with Lime Shores was very simple: to make it different from Station Square. No disrespect to Station Square, I love it as much as the next SA1 fan (especially its music!), but considering that a recurring motif of Beyond the Stars is to mirror certain aspects of SA1's story WITHOUT completely copying the whole routine, it was doubly important for the central town of Viridonia to have its own identity to help further that point. And since Lutrudis - and the rest of the folk on the island - are all inexplicably English to varying degrees and varying stereotypes, I knew what had to be done.

I’d make it look like Solihull, of course.

What? You thought it'd be based on London? HA. That comes later, in more Eggmanian territory. No, for Lime Shores, I wanted something a bit more gentle, something more quiet, something that looks rustic yet refined in equal measures... and something that contrasts greatly with the unique oddity that's been placed upon it.

Because let's not forget, as an everlasting side-effect of the Ethereal Zone's lingering power, much of the stony architecture has been given a nice gleam that causes it to change colour depending on the time of the day. Whereas in the daytime it looks suitably turquoise, the tones change to purple and pink by nighttime.

This might also explain why some occasional buildings look a bit... SEGA World-y...

It was important to make the town down-to-earth (for Sonic standards), because that way the Ethereal effects would be more striking. If it was a big proud metropolis like Station Square or Empire City, it wouldn't have the same impact. You'd still probably notice it, sure, but the contrast between the quaint vibe of the town with the increasing wonder if it was touched by aliens or some shit would be lost. (But don’t worry, a big proud metropolis is indeed featured in this story. You’ll get your Speed Highway fix in due time, though as expected, that too has an identity of its own...)

And of course, no area with Shore in the title is complete without, well, a shore. And sure enough, the waters near the shore are a slightly deeper sea green than average, even without the help of its nearby shiny rocks...

But what sort of music, pray tell, would accompany this unique town that kicks off Sonic's latest adventure? Well it may have a gentle disposition in spite of the Ethereal alterations, but it's still a Sonic adventure we're talking about, and Sonic is obviously going to be excited as hell to explore this new land with or without Eggman shenanigans in the mix. So to reflect his particular brand of upbeat passion, I think something along these lines will do nicely. (NOTE: I’ve decided to include two tracks for each location - some of them not even being Sonic-related - for the sake of more comparison and for driving the intended tone home all the more.)

But then, that's for the daytime. When it's night, however, we'll need something a little more relaxing and calm, yet still capturing a similarly mysterious atmosphere...

Also, there's a (completely optional) training simulator set up by Tails in Lime Shores. Should you ever try it out to brush up your skills in beating all those Eggman robots, the simulation would appear very reminiscent of the Colosseum from Sonic Battle, if it decided to trade in its green for blue. This is apparently the only noteworthy visual change in this piece of Miles Prower technology since 2004. Go figure.

And finally, yes, the town comes with such charmingly English luxuries like a post office, a tavern, a museum, a spa, and... a Chao Garden.

Yes, they would all have different music tracks of their own.

No, I'm not going to list what I have in mind for each one. That would make this post longer - and sadder - than it already is.

[mythopoeticreality]

Okay. Alright. I’ve been trying to figure out how to put all of these thoughts into words for the past couple of days now, and I thiiink I‘ve gotten this into a place where I can communicate it all clearly? (you know rather than a flailing keyboard smash about Norrell and Strange and John Uskglass xD) Sooo....yeah. Time for some more rambling about the Raven King? Time for some more rambling about the Raven King!

Something that I’ve wondered a lot over the years I’ve spent writing and roleplaying as John Uskglass has been his attitude towards Fairy Abductions. In the book, just before Strange and Norrell summon the Raven King one of Norrell’s objections to the entire plan is this: “What will he care about two lost women? You are thinking of John Uskglass as if he was an ordinary man. I mean a man like you or me. He was brought up and educated in Faerie. The ways of the brugh were natural to him and most brughs contained captive Christians -- he was one himself. It will not seem so extraordinary to him. He will not understand.”

In essence here, Norrell is basically saying, ‘John Uskglass will not care’ and I can’t help but feel that his words are more of a refection on himself and his own still lingering attitudes towards the Raven King. I mean, the last time Norrell and Strange spoke together, didn’t Norrell just outright say it? “Do you think he cares what happens to England? I tell you he does not. He abandoned us long ago.” Norrell tried so desperately wen he was younger to find the Raven King. He is a Northerner, born and raised amidst stories and tales of John Uskglass’s deeds and surrounded by his legacy every day of his life; This is the same environment that Childermass -- who’s own devotion to the Raven King is made obvious -- grew up in, and so much of our knowledge of the Raven King does come from Norrell, he could be called one of our foremost experts on him in the book! But he felt betrayed, abandoned by the King as well, and that kind of bitterness doesn’t simply just go away. And now Strange wants to summon the King? Like Norrell tried and failed to do when he was younger? Imagine how close to home that would hit, how that could reawaken that sort of bitterness!

Meanwhile Strange replies with, “Then I will explain it to him, Mr Norrell.” He believes he can convince the King. Of course, this could all be chalked up as arrogance on Strange’s part -- ‘Arrogance’ is so much a part of his character that it was his name in the Prophecy after all! But his plan was to summon the King from the beginning. He believes that John Uskglass will be sympathetic to his plight. Our first introduction to Strange in this chapter, we see him reading from a book, listing off recorded historical cases of Fairy Abduction. “Seven people from Norwich in 1124...Four from Aysgarth in Yorkshire at Christmas in 1151, twenty three at Exeter in 1201, one from Hathersage in Derbyshire in 1243 -- all enchanted and stolen away into Faerie. It was a problem he never solved.” And here strange is presenting Fairy Abduction as something the King would see as a problem, would want to see solved. Not as something that just happens as a matter of course, as natural as the wind or rain. 

And honestly, I think we should believe Strange’s view over Norrell’s here. I think that of the two of them, though Norrell might know more of the Raven King intellectually, Strange has displayed more of an....emotional understanding? A sympathy? for the Raven King. (well, inasmuch as anyone can understand the Raven King on any level, atleast xD)  I’ve already gone into this more in a post I wrote a while back over here, but during the battle of Waterloo, Strange’s experience casting  Pale’s Conjectures Concerning the Foreshadowing of Things To Come reflects something of his later description of the young Raven King after his conquest of England. Look, compare this:

“Until this moment it had never seemed to him that his magicianship set him apart from other men. But now  he had glimpsed the wrong side of something. He had the eeriest feeling – as if the world were growing older around him, and the best part of existence – laughter, love and innocence – were slipping irrevocably into the past.” 

to this:

“He was pale and handsome and solemn-faced.”  Said of a boy fifteen years old, and newly successful in accomplishing all of his goals. As I said in that previous post, you would expect something more triumphant and celebratory to be in his expression --especially as he was raised by fairies. Can you imagine the Gentleman not crowing about his victories, after all? But instead he carries that same air about him, after battle, that Strange feels and experiences, looking out to the results of the battle he is about to fight, Melancholy, lonely, “as if the world were growing older around him, and the best part of existence – laughter, love and innocence – were slipping irrevocably into the past.”

So Strange has already once glimpsed something of what it was to be John Uskglass, but then, here at the beginning of the very chapter where he’s proposing to Norrell to summon the Raven King, he returns, just newly having gone through perhaps the experience that brings him as close to the Raven King as he ever has been: “I suppose it is because I have been many things since last we met. I have been trees and rivers and hills and stones. I have spoken to stars and earth and wind. One cannot be the conduit through which all English magic flows and still be oneself.”

So yeah, on some level I would say Strange had more of an understanding of the Raven King than Norrell does, or atleast a very different one, not blinded by the same bitterness that Norrell feels towards him. But does that necessarily mean he understands The Raven King in regards to how he feels about Fairy Kidnappings? Does John Uskglass view this as an issue? Does he care?

What’s interesting to note here are the locations and numbers of the dissaperances. Seven people from Norwich in 1124, Four from Aysgarth in Yorkshire at Christmas in 1151, twenty three at Exeter in 1201, one from Hathersage in Derbyshire in 1243. Norwich is in East Anglia, Aysgarth is in Yorkshire, Exeter is in Devon, and Heathersage is in Derbyshire. Interestingly, the places where the most people disappear are outside of the Raven King’s kingdom of Northern England. Perhaps it’s almost as if his presence there is discouraging such captures?

Of course, if we’re going to talk about Fairy Abductions, we cannot overlook the case of Buckler and Brandford-upon-Avon. In 1310 Buckler offered to act as the Fairy Servant of a minor magician known as Simon Bloodworth. After serving the magician and gaining the trust of the Household, Buckler managed to spirit back off to Faerie seventeen members of the Bloodworth Household, both of the family and servants. The Raven King sent magicians from his own court to investigate the matter of the dissaperances, but they were unable to discover the whereabouts of the Bloodworth family. Important to note here, in regards to our current discussion, however is the fact that the Raven King? He didn’t have to do anything about this. He did’t need to have anyone look into the dissaperances at all if he didn’t think it was an issue. Bradford-upon-Avon is in the South, and well outside the Raven King’s own Kingdom. Meanwhile, Simon Bloodworth was a rather minor magician who’s wife was lured into Faerie partially by the promises of spells that would ease the workload of her and her daughters, that they might not have to be constantly “sweeping and cooking and cleaning.” Such hardly speaks to a family of any importance, so even the political benefits of taking an interest in the matter seem negligible. But the Raven King did take an interest in the disappearance of the Bloodworth Household, and he sent two of his own Magicians into the South to do something about it!

Even the very presence and mere existence of the court of Folflures suggests far more about John Uskglass’s concern about the consequences of Fairy actions in England -- including Kidnapping -- than Norrell’s assertions would have one believe. Why else have a court committed solely to settling disputes and trying the crimes committed by Fairies? 

But of course none of this is to say that the Raven King has a completely human viewpoint on the matter of Fairy Abductions either. The Raven King himself is said to have spirited off several men and women to live with him in his home in Faerie-- to the point of there even being a ballad written about it. Not to mention the fact that his entire plan to bring Magic back to England involved the Abduction of three innocent people for over a decade -- no matter that in the end he also planned for an end to their capture in the form of Stephen’s rise to Kingship over Lost Hope as well. But...I don’t think it’s quite as simple as Norrell believes it either. Yes, he was raised in Faerie and their ways might at times seem more natural to him even than human ways. At the same time however, he has spent over 300 years amongst humanity, and in the course of his life amongst other human beings, even Norrell had to admit that he became “less like a fairy and more like a man.” Perhaps in the beginning he wouldn’t have understood, not really, but as he began to live more amongst his human subjects? As he began to develop connections himself, as he taught his apprentices, as he gained friendships, found people he actually cared about personally? How could he not understand, atleast on some level?

So yeah. I don’t...I don’t think The Raven King views such things as necessarily wrong all of the time, under every circumstance, but at the same time I certainly don’t think that he wouldn’t care or understand that kind of grief at separation at all. I don’t know. I think his opinions on such Fairy abductions were ambivalent and complicated, and were constantly changing over the course of his life, and even after all this thinking and rambling about it I’m still kind of trying to sort it all out. What do y’all think? I’d really love to talk to someone about this :D

[snowtimeisbesttime]

Thoughts and questions (remix) on Friendsim Volume 15.

-in this house we stan Charun and Wanshi, Best Trolls 2kForever. // Charun's Troll Call bulletpoints weren't changed; more on Wanshi's on her section.

-I really loved pretty much everything about this volume! The music, the art, the writing…

Charun:

-and we start Charun’s route with a explicit mention of Boldir’s good end… and Karako’s bad end. However, Wanshi’s route implies that the good endings are canon… and the bad ones, nightmares.

-Charun’s title is Worm of Rage, obviously. Jokes aside, they’re likely a Thief or a Rogue- we meet them because they wanted to take the lens from the telescope in what the MC calls the world’s most pathetic attempt at theft (paraphrased), and if you decide to look for more manageable trash instead of carrying the lens down the cliff, they say they’d come back for it regardless of the MC holding on to it for them. Later on, they outright steal Azdaja’s and Konyyl’s tracker, and leave us there to deal with the consequences.

-More Stealing Class Stuffs: the MC can’t stay mad at said pathetic attempt at theft, which also indirectly gets the MC out of their friendship-related funk. Also, they probably spend all their waking hours either looking for stuff for their art (as in going out and seeking for it, thief stuff?), or making said art.

-Speaking of Azdaja and Konyyl, they were tracking somebody (let’s hope it wasn’t Charun…). They’ve also added spades to the quadrant mix that is their relationship, it seems. We’re probably not going to learn anything more about this before Act 2 (but if we do it’ll likely come from Konyyl, because Azdaja prefers waxing anime antagonist every time he’s on-screen).

-While we’re with the cameos, Cirava’s here too! They’ve only liked some of Charun’s PincerSpam (that’s troll instagram right?) posts so far, but I think they’d get along pretty well.

-Charun did the :o3 thing with their scarf!!!!

-Random stuff in Charun’s hive highlights:

some random troll???? They look like they’re in a portrait but their hands seem to be interacting with the thing in front of them… They also kinda look like Tyzias.

what seems to be a motherfucking dragon skull

a really large dead bug with long legs???? or at least only the legs

a DIY robot

a large chunk of a boat??? with one of those figures that go on the front side of a boat (mascarón de proa… apparently they’re just named figureheads in English?) and everything, and also a fucking toilet on top of it (not the toilet, apparently and luckily.)

somehow I missed Lil Cal completely, but regardless: DREAD // EXTREME dread. If best worm gets gamzee'd (ie turned into a plot device because of lord english bullshit) i'm going to fucking scream

-I thought the whole eating worms thing was kind of a convenience thing? Like, you’d expect there’d be worms in a cave, and they’d probably make for a nice snack after hours of Art (para matar el gusanillo, nunca mejor dicho), but I guess using all the polysacchariferous slats (whatever those are) for art and having to find something else to eat works as well… // also like. Trolls already eat bugs. What's so weird about worms?? do they just eat them raw and that's the weird thing or

Wanshi:

-Looks like jadebloods are supposed to stay in the caverns… This probably stopped being a thing by Hivebent (see Kanaya). // Kanaya, besides her Protagonist Plot Armor, knew that her fate wasn't in a cloister- therefore why she never mentioned it (watsonian wise, doyle wise is because back then the Caverns likely didn't exist- though they probably did by the time we got to see the ancestors)

-Wanshi’s driving force in her route is wanting to know more, which points to either an understanding class (Mage or Seer) or being sorta close to the Light aspect, like Galekh. Sadly, our resident Mage of Doom, Sollux, isn’t precisely the mainest of characters… // classpect aside, she is terribly sheltered so she obviously wants to Know More... see the points below. The only change in her Troll Call bulletpoints was marking her as an extreme LARPer, while taking out “knows it. all of it”... depending on her route's specific canonicity, has she stumbled onto something she'd rather not have known?? as in, potentially traumatizing like her bad end?? because if she has then so help me she deserves the world

-Wanshi does have some more “traditionally” Doomy things in her reluctance to sneak out of the caverns because she doesn’t want to get in trouble, and also in both her routes (in her good one she misses out on Beastcon but gets a friend, and in her bad one… oh boy.). But when Wanshi breaks rules, she breaks them- see her short end, and she also gets a little sassy with Lynera in her good end because she knows Lynera won’t rat her out.

-She’s probably the youngest in the caverns (or her part of them, at least), so she must be pretty lonely… except for someone strongly implied to be Lanque!! (we’ll probably see him in the very last friendsim, though for now it looks like he also was in the caverns all along…)

-Wanshi’s lived in the caverns her entire life, to the point that she hasn’t ever seen moonlight before… and then her bad route’s has her getting to see life and especially death on Alternia first hand. First the corpse before getting to the convention (she’s seen them before, but in jars and therefore kind of removed of the whole “this is a person who died” thing, likely), and then the bear rampage in the con itself… where she gets to see her (probably) first friend ever sacrifice themselves to save her, and a lot more gore and murder.

-Even her good route has her coming to terms with the fact that she could have died if she had gone to the con, though I think she only gets some healthy fear of what Alternia can do, as opposed to the trauma that must have been her bad end. Guess the Doombound really are the universe’s chosen sufferers after all…

-God I really hope we don’t get a repeat of her bad route in Hiveswap proper. She deserves a safe and happy childhood with friends in Earth C please.

-To end on a lighter note, we get to see a good bunch of the Friendsim team in the con! As well as some other interesting trolls (finally a seadweller, there are some who don’t have signs I think, etc) We also learn some new Troll Things: the troll name for cotton candy (frazzled saccharine fluff candy), the existence of cosplay (without murder) and coslay (with murder)…

-Also (added on 28-10 because i forgot orz): what’s with Vikare all of a sudden? Hope he’s doing okay… // he's as fine as can be with the spotlight pointed away from him.

[josephmyplace]

ART EVALUATION - MULTIVERSE ASSIGNMENT

themes of the assignment

The multiverse assignment took us through a variety of artistic styles, drawing, printmaking, typography and collage, but there was also a narrative element introduced through the penguin book, we were tasked several times to draw inspiration from narrative elements from the book, or to depict scenes from it, this I felt was similar to fine art, however while on the computers we worked on 'postcards' (personally though I always felt their purpose was more like covers for our books), which again had inspiration taken from the book, this reminded me of graphic design; we were attempting to express a product through a visual means.

the three ‘postcards’ that had text added to them, overall i find that the first one below is my favorite, the central image i feel is a strongly emotive one, figures shrouded in darkness, almost in solidarity over some tragedy, which is why i annotated it “a reminder of better days”, as a reference to how i felt the image was tragic. 

this image i annotated it with words associated with god, the drawing i used because i wanted it to resemble an old medieval representation of an angel, which i feels far more visually interesting, and below it is the shattered sky and broken buildings, riven by strange flames, all part of the ‘wrath’ and ‘profound fear’.

here was see the hand receiving what should cause ‘the rapture’ i used the sun as the object because i felt as though the sun’s connection to the heavens, and it being unreachable was going to add to the piece. i also inverted the colours of each of the annotations, to draw contrast between the statements.  

This all being said I'm confused over how the multiverse plays into this, the assignment was about creating art based around a narrative, not around other universes.

Two artists I felt influenced the art I made during the assignment were Brooks salzwedel and pokras lampras, Brooks' art I have already examined, still,  he depicts floating land masses, and strange forested scenes obscured by mist, while pokras lampras is an asemic writing artist, his particular

Brooks salzwedel

style was structured and merged aspects of Cyrillic, English, Greek and Arabic creating an interesting visual style.

Pokras lampras

What did we learn in lesson

This assignment did not focus on new artisic methods (in comparison to the last unit we learnt screenrinting, intaglio, chalk, graphite etc.) but rather ways to express ideas through it, in this case through the aforementioned narrative.

Animation:

animation is relatively simple, animations are composed of several frames, then the amount of frames per second will determine how the animation plays put, generally the higher frame rates are used for smoother, more high effort animations, 24 fps (Frames Per Second) is industry standard.

In a programme the last frame can be viewed to better let the animator decide where they want to go with the animation.

Light box art:

our light box art used tracing paper, each piece of paper was drawn on, the penned, the most 'misted' paper would be at the back, giving an impression of dictance, the paper in fromt would similarly appear closer to the veiwer.

Though as for what we used, screen printing, digital, painting, drawing were all used, of note was the continued use of animations in digital atr.

the use of light boxe was interesting particularly the use of layered tracing paper to create a obfuscated image, though I personally wonder how I could use them in my own art.

Out of lesson

digital art became my focus, I've found my transition from traditional methods difficult, lines are less stable, and dealing with  confusing interfaces has proven itself difficult.

The quality of my artwork has been reduced as a result, but this is expected when moving to a new, unfamiliar medium.

Though digital art has allowed me to use colours freely, which again is difficult, as I never developed any real sense over how to use colours using traditional drawing methods.

Inspiration

Additionally I asked each individual artist the same three questions about their work, which were

what is your source of inspiration? (meaning what initially inspired you and what continues to)

how did you start? (what did you draw initailly, when?)

what processes and materials do you use?

void_illustration - Richard Saunders Illustration

Richards art either is obviously biological, where a creature is depicted, or has a distinctly biological edge to it, metals seem to bend,twist and stretch like flesh, nothing seems to be truly just a machine or device, rather every ridge, bulge and groove hints at a more organic truth to his figures and objects.

1. im inspired by so many things, its good to pull from a wide range of inspirations.

2. Ive been drawing for a long time, im not professional but im hoping to change that, most of my work forms into narrative universes and then develops on from there.

3. For materials I use a range. My 'bio warrior' series is mainly pencil sketches with marker colours and white paint pen highlights. My brown paper dragons are watercolour on strathmore toned tan paper, lined digitally, though I will layer them up further with paint and markers.

Fuelstains - Nikolay Georgiev

His work similarly to Richard's trends to directly be a creature or rather, monster, these organism often have strongly textured skin, often appearing to have many grooves, showing the musculature underneath, then there are his mechanical pieces, either directly depicting a machine of some kind, such as a robot, or depicting a human who has been massively altered by technological augmentations.

1.I was initially inspired by comics, as a kid, stuff like spiderman, bat man and transformers, but later on it could be anything that inspires me.

2.I started in primary school and it was mostly superheros or stuff from movies.

3.Pencil, ink fineliner, brushpen, watercolour, ballpoint pen, digital.

Milesr.art – Miles R art

miles' art focuses on creature drawings, particularly drawings of alien life, creating some truly bizarrely fascinating, most bearing little resemblance to earth organisms, if any. Another aspect of Miles' work that I appreciate is that it seems grounded, the animals, in spite of their bizzarreness still seem like they could exist.

1.some of my biggest sources of inspiration:

- C.M koseman, Brynn metheny, and dougal dixon are some of my most inspiring artists

-just thinking about the natural world in general like on our planet

2.what initially inspired me to draw and that goes into number 2) in kindergarten I saw some kid drawing a honey comb pattern with neon markers and was like huh okay im going to do that but better.

And I always drew monsters and characters, always becoming more based on science overtime, and here I am now.

3.Now I exclusively  make finished things digitally with my ipad pro and apple pencil using procreate, but I often make sketches on post it notes with just regular pencil. In terms of processes I feel like I just do what I do it, its hard to define ones process.