#Lord English is hot as hell

[xx-slug-xx]

Cough cough I’m pretty correct about my opinion tbh. Nobody wants to admit that I’m right, but they’re just scared of the truth

Doing a fun little reblog game to distract myself.

Reblog with your most "hear me out" character/thing you think is hot. And ill rate it on a scale of 1-10 on how much i get it (dont worry about judgement either xD)

Go nuts!

[another-lost-mc]

Can you imagine the om! cast flirting with mc and thinking they're mc's only romantic interest when mc already has a booty call at RAD? There are no feelings involved, just intimacy, but still. I think the cast is too arrogant to ever think mc could be interested in anyone else.

(English is not my native language, so please excuse any possible mistakes)

a/n: that’s fair! I mean, mc has needs too, right? maybe trying to hook up with one of the avatars is daunting, but a hot lower-ranking demon lord who promises a good time every once in a while? that could be fun.

➤ when they find out you have a fwb | the demon brothers

0.9k words | nsfw | suggestive | gn!reader

c/w: jealousy and implied dark themes/sketchy behaviour squints at beel and belphie

read more: the dateables | when solomon is your fwb

Lucifer finds it hard to believe at first. Once he knows the demon’s name, he watches you two interact more closely. He picks up on the shared glances and flirtatious touches he somehow missed before. He’s been stewing in his own desires and feelings for you all this time because he wasn’t sure the best way to declare his intentions. He thought subtlety and patience would be best, but perhaps he can admit just this once that he was mistaken. Learning about your dalliances with someone else finally gives him the push to show you what a real demon lover can offer you. Once you have the Avatar of Pride to warm your bed, you'll be satisfied with no one else but him.

Mammon is one part incredulous, one part jealous, and just a teensy bit turned on. He can’t stop staring at the blurry photo Asmo managed to take of you sneaking out of a utility closet at RAD. His cock twitches when he takes in the image of your rumpled clothes and the way your forehead glistens from a light sheen of sweat. He wants to make you look like that, not some random nobody that doesn't deserve you. His mind races when he imagines his own fingers tugging your clothes aside for better access to your naked body. What did you sound like when you tried to muffle your moans so no one would hear you? Mammon would give anything to take that demon’s place. Y’know, both of you have a spare period after lunch—would you follow him into one of the dark corners of RAD for a little fun if he offered? Maybe it’s time for him to find out.

Levi is seething. Mostly he’s angry and jealous and he wants to tear the building to pieces. He’s also ashamed because the fantasy of you dragging him into an empty room at RAD for a midday fuck is hot as hell. He doesn’t think he deserves you, but he knows that the demon you’re fucking doesn’t either. What do they have that he doesn’t? He’s burning with curiosity about your little affair, but he’s incensed by the idea that he might not be good enough for you. Envy can make him a little desperate. He's tempted to beg you for even a morsel of your love and affection. If he's pathetic enough, maybe you'll even take pity on him and oblige.

Satan is furious because he should’ve realized something was going on. The signs are all there and he missed them somehow. It takes all his willpower not to hunt down your little demon friend for daring to touch you that way. Satan is well-versed in human world literature—maybe declaring his intentions with a romantic gesture would convince you to give him a chance instead? Or maybe sweet and romantic love isn’t what you crave. If fast and rough is more to your tastes, all you need to do is mention your friend’s name—you’ll be too fucked out of your mind to remember it by the time he’s finished with you.

Asmo’s reactions are all over the place: he’s giddy that you’re so daring (fucking at RAD of all places!); he’s devastated that you turned to someone else instead of coming to him; and he’s frustrated that he didn’t realize sooner this was even happening. He pays more attention after he catches you the first time, and it seems so obvious when the current of lust between you and your friend flickers with interest throughout the school day. He finds reasons to keep you two from sneaking off together and pretends he’s not jealous every time he interferes. Perhaps when you’re frustrated enough, he can finally entice you to join him for a little pampering session in his room. You seem so frustrated today! But don’t worry—he knows exactly what you need to loosen up.

Beel is one of the few demons that understands what hunger and starvation feels like. Sometimes you need to do whatever it takes to satisfy those cravings, even on a temporary basis. You’re important to him, and he cherishes your friendship. He’s hidden his true desires from you because he doesn’t want to risk losing control if he’s too hasty, too rough, or too demanding before you're ready to embrace being with someone like him. His love is all-consuming and you're a constant strain on his self-control. If you weren’t turning to someone else for affection, maybe he could be patient and satisfy his urges for you elsewhere. Now that he knows someone else has had a taste of you, he wants you even more. When he finally confesses his desire to be with you, he hopes for both your sakes that you feel the same.

Belphie lashes out with barbed insults and backhanded compliments to hide his own hurt and jealousy. You’re not that bad looking for a human, I guess it was only a matter of time before someone wanted to fuck you. Once he learns the truth about that demon you’ve been fooling around with, he’s suddenly glued to your hip like he can’t stand to be parted from you. He’s selfish with your time and clings to you in his bed during naps. He sneaks his way into your dreams because he wants to make sure you’re not dreaming of anyone else. He might even have a private chat with your little friend, but he doesn’t tell you since it’s nothing for you to worry about. It’s a shame that your fuck buddy suddenly decides to call things off between you after that. At least you still have Belphie to comfort you and wipe away your tears. He appreciates you, even if that random asshole doesn’t—the only demon you ever needed has been here for you all along.

[succubish666]

How Lord Lucifer Appears to Me

I’ve created this collage to illustrate how Lord Lucifer presents his appearance in my mind’s eye. This is completely UPG, as he is known for being a shapeshifter and will show himself differently depending on the practitioner. He even changes his appearance to me on occasion.

The first time I saw him he had black hair instead of blonde. He was also… naked. He told me that the reason he was nude was to prove to me that my seeing him wasn’t just my imagination, as I would’ve never imagined seeing a deity for the first time without clothing. This was honestly a great point and also kinda funny. He has a great sense of humor.

From my collage you can probably tell he’s absolutely stunning and hot as Hell (pun intended). Though these pictures don’t nearly do him justice. I’ve heard there’s only one portrait of him to capture his true beauty, which is located in his estate in Hell. I simply cannot accurately convey how damn fine this deity is. Both he and Aphrodite represent Venus, which is the planet associated with beauty.

While he exudes a very masculine presence for me, I’d say his face is a bit androgynous. It’s really pretty with some softer features, nice cheekbones, and a strong jawline. His eyes are these captivating glowing balls of light, like tiny suns. He tends to have a sort of signature smirk on his lips. He’s got long golden blonde hair that’s slightly wavy and ends below his shoulders. He’s muscular, but not overly muscular. He’s tall but not too tall, maybe six feet? He may present shorter to me for my sake since I’m short.

He occasionally wears white and golden armor with intricate patterns of dragon scales and crow feathers. He also sometimes has either two or six large feathery wings that appear as either gold, white, or black. When he’s not in armor, he wears stylish clothing fit for a classy emperor like him. Lots of suits, especially older style suits like Victorian era fashion. Most recently, I saw him in a black silk robe showing his muscular chest hehe.

His voice is smooth and seductive with a hint of a British accent. It’s masculine and low, but not too deep. He’s eloquently spoken and tends to use older English. He enjoys flirting with me and then watching me get flustered. He has an aura brimming with confidence and charm. He’s kind, patient, refined, caring, protective, gentle, warm, wise, perceptive, chivalrous, and easygoing, while still expecting the respect and dignity that he deserves as an emperor.

As for actually physically seeing him, he sometimes appears as a momentary golden sparkle of light in my peripheral vision. The only time I’ve heard him with my ears is one time I heard him chuckling behind me.

Personality-wise Sylus from Love and Deepspace always reminds me of him. As for his appearance, I’d say he looks sort of like Alucard from Castlevania, but Alucard’s nose is a little too thin.

Hopefully with this post others can envision the beauty of my divine partner. My asks are open if anybody has questions. Ave Lucifer ♡

[hardly-an-escape]

Stormy Weather, or: Outside, the Wind (Inside, the Light) | Dream/Hob | 1600 words | Rated T

tags: I recently spent an evening without power therefore I must put the blorbos in a Situation, love confessions, first kiss, getting together, power outages, Hob Gadling throughout history, gratuitious use of mildly accurate Middle English

The wind tears around London like a living thing, a wild animal, a predator, intent on the hunt. It chases birds into their nests and people into their homes, moans around corners and rattles shutters, sending piles of leaves whirling into miniature hurricanes and whipping branches into a frenzy, sharpening its claws on roof tiles and telephone poles.

Except in Hob Gadling’s flat.

The New Inn, and the cozy home above it, is in one of those old buildings that’s actually been loved and maintained – thanks in no small part to Hob’s own care and attention. The walls are thick and strong, the roof is solid. The shutters may rattle, but the windows are double-pane; the curtains and carpets are warm and soft, and no drafts encroach on the sanctity of his living room, where Hob and Lord Morpheus, King of Dreams, are having a movie night.

It’s part of Hob’s concerted effort to introduce the Prince of Stories to the stories he’d missed during his imprisonment. Tonight it’s Blade Runner – the final cut, of course – which isn’t necessarily one of Hob’s personal favorites, but seemed to fit the stormy, rainy vibes of the weather. They’re installed on the couch, with hot chocolate and wine and snacks, which Dream has deigned to pick at. Harrison Ford is eating noodles and wandering through wet, moodily-lit streets. The wind is howling outside, but they’re safe and warm and surrounded by soft things and life is about as good, Hob thinks, as it ever gets these days.

And then his lights flicker. Once, twice; there is the impression of a sort of electrical last gasp, and the room is plunged into darkness.

The wind whips and the shutters rattle. A volley of rain spits itself against the windows.

“Bugger,” says Hob.

Dream says nothing, merely brings his wineglass – which had already been cradled in one elegant hand – to his lips.

“Hang on,” says Hob. “I’ve got some candles around here somewhere.”

He gropes his way to the kitchen. In one drawer he unearths some beeswax tapers and several tea lights, which he arranges on a plate. He rummages in one of the deeper cabinets and makes a triumphant noise as he discovers his prize behind disused mugs and a fondue set from the 1980s: a pair of old-fashioned brass candlesticks equipped with round reflectors, highly polished to catch the light and bounce it back out into the darkness.

“You are remarkably well-prepared for an event such as this,” says Dream, as Hob lights his various prizes and returns to the living room with his hands full of flickering flames.

“Well, you know,” Hob demurs. “When it comes down to it, I’ve lived a lot more of my life without electricity than with it.” He arranges the tea lights on the coffee table and sets the brass candlesticks on a nearby bookshelf. “You never really get out of the habit of preparing for the worst. Although I will say, these beeswax ones beat the hell out of the old tallow jobbies we had when I was young. Got ‘em from a local bloke who keeps bees not half a mile away, isn’t that cool? A beekeeper in the middle of London. There, now,” he says, and having arranged the lights to his satisfaction he plops himself back down on the sofa.

Outside, the wind wails. The lack of lamps on the empty street below and the gentle candlelight within make the night seem even darker, and turn Hob’s living room into something even softer and cozier than it already is.

Dream’s face, in the flickering candles, seems even more otherworldly than usual; and Hob, for his part, truly looks as though he belongs in another century. The very shape of his face has changed, somehow, into something older; taking on a new appearance in the candlelight the way a man’s tongue might curl differently around the syllables of another language.

“I miss it, sometimes,” he says lowly. “This kind of world. Before the wires and the phones and the cars. It was… quieter.”

“You speak often of your delight in change and progress. Do you truly long for your past lives?” asks Dream.

“Yes and no,” answers Hob. “Some things are better now, no question. Antibiotics, wouldn’t want to live without those again. Vaccines and X-rays and chemotherapy and antidepressants – almost all the medical stuff. Mass transportation. Cars and planes have never been safer. Honestly, I’ve never understood the people who moan about the olden days and oh, life was simpler back then. Don’t they know how many people died? How many kids? Because they caught a cold or fell out of a tree or had a case of the runs that lasted a little too long?”

He leans forward to adjust one of the candles, which is dripping unevenly, and when he sags back into the couch there is just the hint of a frown between his strong brows.

“And yet…” he says, staring into the flames, voice quiet. “Nights like this. I do sometimes think…”

Hob trails off for a long moment.

“There was a rhythm to life, back then,” he says finally. “You counted hours by the church bells and days by the tasks that needed done. And there was so much that needed to be done… cows milked and fields planted and clothes knitted or mended. And it was all so important, so… necessary. Regimented. But in the in between time – Christ! your time wast thine.” As he speaks, his voice has slipped into an older register: his Rs grown rounder, his vowels longer, curling from his mouth to mingle with the candlesmoke hovering over his coffee table. “I remember fair hours as a lad, even into my manhood, of which I spent lyende in th’ fields, watching ants in th’ grass. And later, too, we’d hie us to bed with the sonne, the fire banked in the hearth. An’ it happen that if we awakened before dawn, ’twas a simple thing to pass the time in simple ways, be it in prayer or in pleasure…”

The innuendo in his words is clear, but Hob is not looking at Dream; his eyes are unfocused as he stares into the middle distance, revisiting the past via candlelight. Until one of the wicks lets out a small pop, and flares, and he shakes himself, coming back to the present.

“God, sorry,” he says, voice back in the 21st century. “Woolgathering. I’ll go on for an age, me. More wine?”

But Dream’s eyes have also gone unfocused, his lips parted slightly, chest rising and falling with unnecessary breaths as he stares – no, gazes – at Hob. He, too, must shake himself into the present moment at Hob’s offer of more wine. He silently holds out his glass.

“May I ask you a personal question?” Dream says.

“Anything. You know that.”

Dream pauses. Sips. Outside, the sound of the wind has not abated; has grown, if anything, even more dramatic. There is the muffled sound of branches scraping against the side of the building.

“Why,” asks Dream finally, “do you pretend to yourself that you do not want me?”

Hob chokes. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Why do you pretend thus to me?” Dream pursues. “Who has known you longer than any being on this planet or any other; who can know your innermost dreams?”

“What do you mean, other planets?” Hob demands. And then: “Have you been peeking at my dreams?”

“I need not peek, as you put it, to see the truth of the matter. It is writ plain on your face and in your every word and deed. I merely wonder why this truth has hovered before us for over six hundred years and you have yet to press your suit. Do you doubt, after all this time, my affection for you? Do you find me – unworthy?”

Dream sounds, impossibly, almost uncertain. Even vulnerable. Hob sighs heavily and leans forward, elbows on his knees and face in his hands.

“I – God. Dream,” he stammers. “Yes, Christ, I am full of doubts. You stormed away from me when I implied you might be lonely, I… I have never, once, thought I had a suit to press at all. What on earth has brought this on? Now, of all times?”

“I do not know,” Dream murmurs. “Perhaps… this darkness is working on me, as well. Perhaps I am as susceptible to candlelight and nostalgia as the next anthropomorphic personification.”

He smiles, a little quirk of the mouth that contains worlds, and Hob leans over, listing helplessly into Dream’s space as the tapers flicker.

“Fuck,” he whispers, pressing their foreheads together, turning his head to butt his cheekbone against the sharp line of Dream’s nose. “Art thou rēal? Speak you treue?”

“Aye, my Hob,” answers Dream. “Min herte is treue and bilongeth to you.”

A sob catches in the back of Hob’s throat at the words. “Fuck,” he whispers again, “Dream, I’m yours. I am. I always have been. My Dream, min sweven, my leof. Alwei, allesweis…”

Their mouths find each other, then, finally, lip against lip and breath against breath. They kiss for a long, long moment, desperate and hungry and soft all at once, as outside the wind howls coldly around the corners of the New Inn, and inside the light cast by Hob’s candles bathes their whole little world in a cozy glow.

“Take me to bed,” murmurs Dream against Hob’s mouth. “Make me your lover. Show me how you pass the time by candlelight, and in darkness.”

“Oh, darling. Dearheart,” Hob answers. “Nothing in this world or any world past could make me happier.”

And he suits his actions to his words.

[vinylshifting]

ᘛMy Introᘚ

꒷︶†︶꒷˚̣̣̣︶ ͡𑁬♱໒ ͡ ︶˚̣̣̣꒷︶†︶꒷ ˚̣̣̣

Hei!! i go by Vinyl or Väinö (Mostly Vinyl on this blog)

Ive been in the shifting community for well over 2 years i first joined in around 2022-2023

Mystery age shhh (somewhere between 15 to 17)

I was on shifter tiktok for the start, but i actually spent most of my journey on shifter youtube. Ive been on and off on tumblr for a while, but im here now!

Im Finnish, but will only speak(mostly speak) english on this blog

I dont care what pronouns im called, But She/Her are fine (Even though im a guy in person lol.. im basically a girl in all of my drs tho-)

My lucky angel number: 77

Im in many fandoms and have many interests:

Music (All sorts of music, mostly metal, glam rock, or specifically just my queen, lana del rey), Crypitds/Mythical stuff, True crime, HTTYD, MLP, Visual novels, Lords of Chaos

Hobbies/Stuff i like to do:

Writing, Making scripts, Making moodboards, Worldbuilding, Reading, Making Drs, Shifting (ofc)

Im a strong believer of you can script anything, theres infinate amount of universes so it already exists

I make moodboards and take moodboard requests! (The only time i probably wont do a request is if i dont know the character/media srryy)

I have no DNI! Just please dont be weird

Dont be afraid to DM me! im alsways open to be friends, i just stuck at conversations wahh. especially small talk

Some of my DRs

† Vampiric WR: My WR where im an immortal vampire living alone and i can travel to all my drs through this WR (probably will permashift here someday). I live in Transylvania

† Hogwarts DR: Current main dr, im a student at hogwarts but im also a half vampire and know dark magic and am having my own side adventure from the golden trios adventures

† Jail Fiancée DR: Dating my boyfriend whos in jail wahhh, i can fix him i swear (i am fixing him and we will live happily together… when hes out on parole). Takes place in Ukraine

† Rockstar‘s Gf DR: Dating Kelly Nickles, My man. God i love him so much mmmmhhhehehe. I come from a rich family and live in Nevada <3

† Моргевейн Dr: An alternative Cr where im a Russian metalhead living in America, Im in a Band. Just living my life. I also live neer the woods and some lakes so i love walking there!

† Mermaid DR: Just a mermaid Dr, based off both H2O and the Waterfire saga. Im so excited to live underwater ahhh i love marine animals. (Havent created a script yet, mostly subconscious based and Also i have a pinterest board for it lol)

† Deirdre Eilís DR: An Alternative Cr where im Norwegian/Irish andliving in america and dating my rapper boyfriend. Im also pretty as hell in this Dr like omfg.

† Red Hot DR: A dr where im just living life in the 90s-2000s and also im Dating Joey jordison teehee. I might turn this into where i have my own band (will probably be based off Kittie, Hole, or/and Genitorturers..). This dr is also mostly Subconscious based + With a pinterest board

Drs im working on/want: A hogwarts Dr 100%(even though i havent even started the script wahh), Model/Actress Dr (i have moodboards and a small pinterest board for it already..), The LOC Dr i started today but haven’t finished yet

(I forgot who made these cute borders, if anyone knows who made them please comment so i can give creds! <3)

[generational-atrophy]

Summer time! May I ask what the axis (Prussia and Romano) have planned for the beach with their s/o versus the reality of the trip? 😂

Oh, to make this more fun I want this to be a group trip.

Happy Summer! ☀️

hetalia axis on a group beach trip with their s/o

1.1k words ~ gender neutral headcanons

tw: they think ur hot. lol. thats it.

a/n: since this is my last weekend of summer its a perfect time to do this :sobsobsob: sorry anon

Italy

Expectation

There'll be plenty of pretty girls for him to flirt with! And more importantly, one VERY pretty person that he's gonna flirt with the most.

Hopefully, this time, he won't put one foot in the water and immediately shriek about how freezing it is.

He'll spend as much time with you as he does with his friends! Plus, now you can be closer to them! Hooray!

Maybe he'll get a little bit of a workout. He's not a big swimmer, but he'll try his hardest, just to impress you.

Reality

He'll spend a little too much time trying to get Kiku to get out of his shell. If you suggest that maybe he just doesn't want to... Feliciano is taking it as a personal challenge.

He doesn't get a lot of swimming done. Just enough to balance out the ice cream he got for the two of you.

He ends up teasing Ludwig a lot about how girls are staring at him-

He usually only gets hit by Romano twice! (To be fair, he was totally asking for it.)

He'll drool over you for an... uncomfortable amount of time. Luckily, he knows how to be subtle. His words are absolutely NOT subtle though!

If no one knew you were dating him before, they will now.

He cannot stop kissing you.

He can't help it, ok? You're just too cute in that swimsuit!

Germany

Expectation

 Everyone will enjoy his homecooked snacks and NOT spend money unnecessarily on some overpriced trash-

 He'll only have to remind you and everyone else to put on sunscreen once, and will actually do so when he tells them to.

Feliciano will not hit his head on the bottom of the pool diving again, and if he does, Ludwig will not be the one who has to drive him to the doctor. Again.

Nothing will go wrong. Okay, something will go wrong, but it'll be something minor... please...

Reality

All of his friends constantly interrupt the two of you and drag you off to do something stupid

He was so careful! But... he still got sunburned on his back.

Halfway through the trip, he's done swimming because he's tired of Romano splashing him in the face when he's trying to get some ACTUAL EXCERCISE-

One of the lifeguards is a stupid teenager and of course, Ludwig is the one who ends up saving some poor kid. (He did not have to volunteer! But you know, “If I didn't, who would?”)

Everyone stares because god lord that man is shredded to hell and back.

( Someone tries hitting on him and he's so uncomfortable he pretends he doesn't speak English and runs away)

He still has a lovely time, because you're around, and that's all he needs to be happy.

Japan

Expectation

No one will talk to him. No one will look at him. It will not be too hot and he won't have to swim. Please. Please do not make him swim.

Actually, you can talk to and look at him. Maybe Ludwig can. But only that.

Hopefully, he won't be forced to eat terrible beach food. He packed a sandwich. That's enough, right?

All he wants is to sit in the shade with you and read quietly, away from all the noise and heat of the beachfront.

Reality

Feliciano is gonna drag him in the water, and he'll trip. And fall. Into the water. And he'll be all wet for the rest of the day. And he'll hate it. So much.

Barely gets to read his book for multiple reasons.

Halfway through the trip, he's completely wiped out from the heat. You'll probably have to help with sunscreen, too.

Anytime any of you bring him down to the water, he tries to bring up a bunch of random facts to get you to stop.

(”Don't you know there's jellyfish in this country? I do not want to get stung!“ ”THIS IS A LAKE!“)

Kiku is much more suited for an arcade than a beach. He's too much of an old man for it. He's glad you're having fun, though.

Romano

Expectation

You'll pass out from how hot he is

He WON'T give in and eat any of the disgusting, insulting beach food.

He'll be able to completely ignore everyone but you, including the stupid, loud Germans!

The heat won't bother him. He's a Mediterranean country for god's sake, he's used to it being hot!

Hopefully, and he really prayed for this, he'll get a nice tan and not more sunburnt.

Feliciano won't interrupt his peace and relaxation. And if he does, he won't run away as Romano tries to smack him with a rolled-up magazine.

Reality

He ends up getting super insecure about his body in comparison to everyone else (Cough, cough, Ludwig and Gilbert,) and you'll have to coax him to not constantly wear his towel.

Any time not spent bothering others is spent with you while relaxing in a pool floatie.

He's so unused to exercise that he gets hungry and tired almost immediately.

He tries his best to ignore the other beachgoers in favour of you, but he can't stop getting annoyed by everyone else OR subtly flirting with others.

(He's just in a bad mood, he doesn't mean any of it.)

As soon as he sees you, he can't help staring. He just thinks you're so stunning when you're wearing so little...

Prussia

Expectation

He's gonna get so sunburnt that he's in pain for weeks.

You and him are gonna race in the water, and he's gonna WIN!

He'll finally get to show off his rockin' bod without being seen as a douchebag.

Plus, he'll get to see your body too. Even better.

(I'm telling you now, if your stomach spills out of your swimsuit, he's gonna get so attracted to you, he'll get dizzy and have to sit down.)

When (If) girls stare at him for being so hot, he'll get to show off that he's dating YOU, which in his opinion, you're even hotter than him. Then they'll get jealous and stop looking at him! (Not how that works, but whatever.)

Reality

He's gonna get so sunburnt that he's in pain for weeks. This is inevitable.

Gilbert will quickly become pretty bored just swimming, so you and him will build a nice big sand castle (He insists on making one replicating a castle he used to live in.)

He'll sneak up behind Ludwig and grab his ankles, swimming away before he can see him. Just for fun.

He's gonna ask you if you're drowning.  Regardless of what you say, he's picking you up bridal style and carrying you out of the water. Just because he thinks it'd be hot. (”I'm saving you, Liebling! I take kisses in payment-“)

Romano will hate it, but Gilbert definitely will try to force him down a slide if there are any.

[subarashiihibi]

my thing about izaya is that he's so strange and weird and i love that so much. i didn't want to ramble too much in the notes of that poor person's post but i find the way he speaks and the words he chooses so interesting so let me ramble a little bit. this may or may not even be coherent so bear with me here im just going to speak my thoughts.

ok this got really fucking long and all over the 0place so im putting this under a read more sorry.

so i have volume 9 of the novel in both english and japanese. i only have two novels in japanese and that is this one and yuuyake wo. so i'm pretty crazy about this izaya speech analysis shit. anyways i was rereading thru the jp ver the other day just to compare it to the eng and i kinda realized that like.

a lot of people you can separate their speech in either formal and informal speech right? someone like shizuo speaks really informally and uses a lot of rough, dragged-out versions of words and stuff (しゃーねえ vs しょうがない) and then someone like shinra who speaks in a ton of yojijukugo and generally sounds like a nerd emoji gijinka.

izaya on the other hand rly... doesn't fit in either? i mean sure he sounds like another nerd emoji gijinka but it's kinda different. it's not so much the words he speaks but rather the intonation and his tone...

and he has his moments where he speaks pretty seriously and whatnot of course, but in general he just... doesn't sound very human when he speaks? i don't know if that's a conscious effort or not. is it his attempts at distancing himself from his own individual humanity? or is it just because he's a weird guy? i dunno. but it's interesting nonetheless.

one thing i will note though is that despite his somewhat inhuman speech patterns, it's also pretty...dramatic? to the extent where it's really exaggerated but also very cute and charming. (this part is important.)

i think a lot of what makes izaya's speech so weirdly inhuman is because he doesn't really use a lot of slang or similar lingo that people his age would typically use. i know mikado said in the novels that he doesn't really try to fit in with his age group's fashion sense either so it makes sense but still. he's like an old hag it's so funny. and it's because of that that when he says stuff like 'i don't get all hot and heavy over headless women' or whatever he said to celty it's really amusing to me because like... why is the strange man saying this?💀

another example i kinda giggled about on my twitter when i read it it's not even crazy and i sound corny and cheesy and stupid but theres this scene in vol 9 where izaya messages celty for business and hold on let me just put it as a quote.

he sounds so old saying 'video game' like 😭 idk it's just funny cause he barely even knows anything abt games like bro knows nothing im crying

in the jp hes like 「…ゲーム中なのかい？」 and then when celty tries to explain herself he says 「何を言ってるのか、良く解らないんだけど」 and im rly bad at tling parts of sentences and stuff but just know that the way he words it makes it sound like this gif to me

i love both versions i think the original jp makes him sound like hes so lost and confused (hence why pw gif cause lord that man always looks lost LMFAOOOO) and then eng tl just blunt ass "I don't know what you're talking about." makes him sound like full on hag 😭😭😭

OMFG WAIT I HAVE TO MENTION THIS FUCKING SCENE WITH SHINRA ITS SO FUNNY.

first i think it's funny the translation has izaya say fuck here cause he very rarely swears and i did read this one thing about how he only swears when his mask slips so to me this is like genuine bewilderment that he cant even hide LOL. second why is he so excited to hear about 'whatever sexual fetish' shinra has im crying he's so damn nosy . okay but this is not the funniest part let me add that now.

???

ehy the hell is izaya orihara talking about foot fetishes???😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 im crying bruh i was so flabbergasted when i read this i was like WHAT did he just say? he says it in the jp ver too which just makes it even funnier. this goes back to what i said earlier but i always get so amused when izaya has something to say about sex or whatever cause he's so fucking weird and unsettling why does he know that

(i mean i also get so hard i nearly pass out thinking about izaya tlaking about sex but thats probably just a thing with my heart condition and stuff)

oh also another scene i think is really cute and amusing and funny is back when shinra was first still trying to get izaya to form the bio club w him.

1. shinra is funny as fuck in this scene but also izaya's "Hmm. Can I punch you?" made me havbe a good laugh. in the jp he says 「んー。殴ってもいいのかな？」 which is pretty much the same thing just with the intonation of like 'hmmmmmmmmm should i hit u or not...' sorry like i said im just bad w explaining this stuff. but i felt the need to point it out not cause im one of those annoying ppl who praise the original jp ver and reject translations and localizations i just think it's important for izaya specifically cause i love him and i want to analyze his speech patterns as best as i can.

i was going thru the novel just now for other stuff i wanted to mention and i forgot abt this part but it's so funny.

'Let's not get hasty. Type calmly, please.' its not even funny or nothing i just find it so amusinf whenever he talks like that💀 i will say though the english translation kind of makes him sound more weird and inhuman than the original. that line in the original was basically just him telling her she needs to calm down enough to at least type properly LOL. idk if im just being nitpicky cause this is izaya tho so feel free to ignore that. fwiw i like the eng tl bc while it's a different intonation than the original japanese ver i think if he did speak english it would probably sound smth like that anyways.

this too made me laugh like ??? seriously he is really nosy when it comes to people's intimate affairs. in the jp ver he calls them an 'intimate couple' which just is like .. ok bro💀

does anyone else see my vision of izaya getting cucked by celty (does it count as cucking when celtys the one dating shinra) while he looks sad and pathetic and miserable that he never decided to shoot his shot w shinra back in the day

if i were commenting on the actual stuff going on in this scene rn this post would be a lot olonger and even more terribly all over the place so im just gonna focus on how i think it's funny izaya says 'easy, man...' this is like one of the only times his words are somewhat natural and sound like smth you would hear someone else say. in the jp ver it's 「おいおい…」 which is somewhat less out of left field in terms of coming from izaya but still it's pretty surprisingly normal. i have to wonder if in that moment he's too worried about shinra to care about keeping up appearances.

this is just random and me making fun of izaya as usual but why the hell does he weigh himself after his showers💀💀💀 it's cute and endearing and only adds to his strong gap moe but still... it's strange...

speaking of cute things this is from a volume i forget but he says this one phrase a couple of times and it is just both really cute and also kind of idk... saddening. one of the times i can remember he says it is when namie was making fun of him or something and he replies 'Don't tease me. I'm only human.' or something along those lines and it's like . hm. ok.

i think it's cute he says 'dont tease me' a few times cause eughhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh (trying to ward off severe brain damaged incoherent thoughts) but 'im only human' is like... are you really? even after you try so hard to escape your own humanity and individual self so much... im going to try and give my thoughts on it here but this is just based off my hc that izaya has bpd so yanno. im basing a lot oif this on my own experiences sorry. i do that a lot. (gestures over to all the posts i make abt fob/mychem fan izaya)

when it comes to just straight up acknowledging his humanity izaya has no problems with this because 'sure, i'm human. isn't that obvious?' is probably something along the lines of what he thinks. it's easy for him to just say that because it's just that. it's just words. it holds no real meaning and shows no true insight into how he actually perceives himself. but when it comes to actually having to come face to face with his own humanity and the fact that yes, he is only human, it's a lot more difficult because now it's out of his control. i wonder also if he has problems with perceiving his own self.

i say this a lot but i truly do believe izaya is so so so beautiful and i love him so much. also i just saw a funny post on twitter so i wanna say this here idk if yall know this but izayas actually a latina hes got chismosavirus❤ ok thats all i have to say sorry for rambling so much

[nishloves]

the night we met ~ vernon

vernon x f! reader // angst ; old english au // words : 1k // m.list

synopsis : he was just another man you had come across in your life.

based on : calypso (greek myth); the night we met (lord huron)

“I am not the only traveller,

Who has not repaid his debt.

I've been searching for a trail to follow, again.

Take me back to the night we met.”

You were the prettiest flower he had laid his eyes upon, breathtaking, enticing, ethereal... beautiful. You were simply beautiful.

He was a nomad, a traveller, a lost wanderer; venturing from place to place to fill his empty heart with all the nugatory promises, naught happiness.

You were as amicable as Calypso herself, a refugee for broken hearts, a healer of withered souls, a home to rest. A lover of heroes— he wasn't a hero though, neither was he a villain.

He was a man, a simple aimless man.

“And then I can tell myself,

What the hell I'm supposed to do?

And then I can tell myself,

Not to ride along with you.”

His hands guided you through the notes, your feet effortlessly matching his steps as he smiled at you, your eyes twinkling up at him, his heart clenched as he looked away from your innocent eyes; he knew he'd break your heart, and he doesn't want to see it this soon, he doesn't want you to register that he doesn't love you.

The dim lights accessorized your skin as the glitter on your cheeks glimmered with the reflected candlelight.

The flowers in your hair seemed to weigh down on your neck as you winced when you looked up at him.

Vernon's hand travelled to your nape, giving your head support as you gasped under his fleeting touch, your breath hitching as you melted under his touch.

Would he do it all over again?

“I had all and then most of you

Some and now none of you

Take me back to the night we met.

I don't know what I'm supposed to do,

Haunted by the ghost of you.

Oh, take me back to the night we met.”

He saw you rejecting every suitor who asked you for a singular dance, he saw you giggling and blushing whenever his name was mentioned, he heard that you were looking forward to him at every ball of the season.

Only if you knew.

Vernon sighed as the deep red liquid burned his throat, the crystal chandelier hung above him reminded him of your earrings, the ones you told him you adored yet lost— only if you knew they were still stuck on his cuffs.

The burning flame of the candle replicated the electric, hot touches you both had bestowed upon yourselves. The pearl necklace— your gift, sat prettily in front of him, looking as innocent and pure as your eyes. Yet the empty wine glass reminded him of your heart.

He took away the innocence of your eyes with his kiss, and left you with an unfulfilled heart.

He shouldn't talk to you.

“When the night was full of terrors,

And your eyes were filled with tears.

When you had not touched me yet

Oh, take me back to the night we met.”

"I played with your heart, y/n," he repeated, his eyes unwavering.

"No... you aren't so cruel, you will never be so cruel to anyone."

"But I am," he replied, the moisture in his eyes undetected by both you and him.

"Why would you give me this, then? Why would you swear your heart on me? Why would you call me the ruler of your soul then?"

His jaw went slack as he looked at your tear-filled eyes, the windy November nights making you shiver as you peered up at him; your eyes red, full of hurt and denial, yet they held no animosity or hostility towards the said perpetrator of your heart.

"Don't you realize?" His voice was soft, softer than anytime he had spoken to you, "i don't have a heart, you're the owner of an empty palace; the ruler of apathetic barren lands."

"Then why do you cry?"

His words stopped in his throat as he touched his cheek, his eyes widening as he looked back at you, "Surely you jest, y/n. Can't you see that I'm acting?"

He could feel, he could feel again.

Surely you were the Calypso, the runaways' hearth.

"You're crying, Vernon."

"I pity you, y/n." I don't deserve you; I am a mere wanderer, one of the many travellers you meet before you find your Odysseus.

“I had all and then most of you

Some and now none of you,

Take me back to the night we met.

I don't know what I'm supposed to do

Haunted by the ghost of you

Take me back to the night we met.”

He recalled Calypso's cruel fate— all of her unrequited loves, he recalled her misery, her yearning, the agitation of her heart, the shackles of her fears; her lonesome heart.

He is still haunted by your memories, of you calling him the locksmith of your caged heart, of you calling after him as you tore the pearl necklace off your neck. He is still haunted by your gasping breaths, your tear filled eyes, your silvery tragic voice as you asked him to come back to you, even if it takes years.

Vernon sinks in the arm-chair, his fugacious compassion nowhere to be seen as he twirled your earring between his fingers— the earring you had lost, the other half of the very pair.

He wonders if you met a hero after all these years. He wonders if can go back to the night you met, and redo everything from the scratch. He wonders if you— or anyone, could love an aimless and a simple man.

Maybe your presence was the only tethering cashmere thread in his yarn of fate.

take me back, to the night we met.

the end.

[burningvelvet]

Lord Byron responds to criticism of his poem Don Juan:

“The air of this cursed Italy enervates—and disenfranchises the thoughts of a man after nearly four years of respiration—to say nothing of emission. As to ‘Don Juan’—confess—confess you dog and be candid that it is the sublime of that there sort of writing—it may be bawdy—but is it not good English? It may be profligate—but is it not life, is it not the thing? Could any man have written it—who has not lived in the world?—and fooled in a post-chaise? in a hackney coach? in a gondola? against a wall? in a court carriage? in a vis a vis? on a table?—and under it? I have written about a hundred stanzas of a third Canto—but it is a damned modest—the outcry has frightened me. I have such projects for the Don—but the Cant is so much stronger than the Cunt now a days, that the benefit of experience in a man who had well weighed the worth of both monosyllables must be lost to despairing posterity.” (Letter to Douglas Kinnaird, Venice, 26 October, 1819.)

Francis Cohen remarked: “Lord B. should have been grave & gay by turns; grave in one page & gay in the next; grave in one line, & gay in the next. And not grave & gay in the same page, or in the same stanza, or in the same line… we are never drenched & scorched at the same instant whilst standing in one spot.” (Letter to John Murray, 16 July, 1819).

Byron replied to the critique:

“I will answer [Cohen] who objects to the quick succession of fun and gravity—as if in that case the gravity did not (in intention at least) heighten the fun. His metaphor is that ‘we are never scorched and drenched at the same time!' Blessings on his experience! Ask him these questions about 'scorching and drenching’. Did he never play at Cricket or walk a mile in hot weather? Did he never spill a dish of tea over his testicles in handing the cup to his charmer to the great shame of his nankeen breeches? Did he never swim in the sea at Noonday with the Sun in his eyes and on his head--which all the foam of ocean could not cool? Did he never draw his foot out of a tub of too hot water damning his eyes & his valet's? Did he never inject for a Gonorrhea? Or make water through an ulcerated Urethra? Was he ever in a Turkish bath—that marble paradise of sherbet and sodomy? Was he ever in a cauldron of boiling oil like St. John? Or in the sulphureous waves of hell? (where he ought to be for his 'scorching and drenching at the same time') did he never tumble into a river or lake fishing—and sit in his wet clothes in the boat—or on the bank afterwards ‘scorched and drenched' like a true sportsman? ‘Oh for breath to utter' —but make him my compliments—he is a clever fellow for all that—a very clever fellow. You ask me for the plan of Donny Johnny—I have no plan—I had no plan—but I had, or have, materials.” (Letter to his publisher John Murray, Bologna, 12 August, 1819.)

Letter to Douglas Kinnaird, Genoa, 31 March, 1823:

“I care nothing for what may be the consequence critical or otherwise – all the bullies on earth shall not prevent me from writing what I like – & publishing what I write – “coute qui coute”*– if they had let me alone – I probably should not have continued beyond the five first – as it is – there shall be such a poem – as has not been since Ariosto – in length – in satire – in imagery – and in what I please.” *(“at any cost”)

[zenaidamacrouras1]

hi i have another question about hot neighbor. rose seems to be written as black biracial and everyone else seems to be written as white. i was curious about this choice for her! i think weirdly as a black reader it made me think a lot about what her life would be like if her black parent was around, since being black in an all white space/family can be isolating. (there is no call out incoming i swear, i was just curious! i love the story!)

I'm so glad you asked! Yes I did intend for Rosie to be multiracial, and yes I did kind of drop the ball on filling out her world with characters that look like her.

So this post got bonkers long because it made me think of a lot of things. I realize this maybe looks like I am feeling defensive, but actually I just really enjoyed talking about this. I know I am not a perfect author, but thinking about useful things makes me hopefully less imperfect. Sorry that 90% of this is irrelevant to your actual question.

More below the more.

So this fic is weird because it has a small core cast, and yes all of them are white but Rosie!

Then it has this big cast of barely there neighbors - who are very very background in the fic, but I think all of them that speak are people of color except Eloise/Elsie/ukulele lady/cookies lady (this is one person).

So though the fic didn't address it (that's on me) I imagined Mrs. Rodiguez as Afro-Cuban and the jaded teens are Black. Exercise Grandpa is Chinese. I actually had a scene with Santiago and Mrs. Rodriguez arguing about Mexican vs. Cuban pronunciation which I cut despite spending hours on it, it felt distracting. So poor Santiago never got a speaking gig.

Side note!

I have some basic diversity things I try and do in all my multi-chapter fics. I try to make them all pass the Bechdel test for women (two named women talk and not about a man) as well as for race (two named people of color talk to each other not about race). I don't think they all pass both tests, for the record, esp my earlier ones.

I also like to always have an Ace/Aro character as well as a trans character, someone that uses them/them pronouns and I like to have a character whose first language isn't English. These are, to be clear, incredibly low bars for representation.

All this is partly because I value diversity and partly because that's what real life looks like for me, but since I write about two white men, based on the MCU which has a LOT OF WHITE MEN, I will miss things if I don't have a mental list.

Also for fun almost all of my fics include a reference to Bucky resembling a mermaid and a Lord of Rings reference.

Okay that's just random author notes. I do love to think about and talk about these things. I don't think this makes me a good person or anything magical. Just sharing this cause as an author this is interesting to me so maybe it is to others.

So! Your actual question :)

I had initially had Rosie as mixed race cause, honestly, statistics. The fic is set in Brooklyn. It's a diverse place. It's super likely that Steve would have a hook up with a guy with textured hair and brown skin, and since his whole genetic code is submissive as hell, his kid is gonna have curls and melanin. I actually pictured the mystery dad as Latino, but like many mixed race kids, people are gonna see Rosie as Black. And I am fine with whatever read on the mystery dad because I left it very vague.

I never saw her other dad as in the picture. It's just not what Steve wanted at that time. One reader asked if her dad was Sam Wilson and in my head Sam and Steve were college besties but Sam moved to DC. But again I don't care if someone wants to imagine that!

One of the reasons this fic got put on the back burner for a year was because I was gonna be way more thoughtful about Rosie's race. I was going to bring in Uncle Sam and Grandma Wilson and maybe swap out Wanda for a non-white character, and Steve and Bucky were going to have a few conversations about it.

And then, and this is real, I simply did not, my friend. I ran out of spoons.

I had Sarah Rogers as dead and Mrs. Darlene Wilson had some of that Grandma role. When I resurrected Sarah, which I think was very good for the story, sorry Mrs. Wilson, Grandma Wilson got cut. 😭

At this point I suppose I could have made Rosie have a white mystery dad but again. It's Brooklyn. Just. Statistics. And I already had a picture of her in my mind and I loved her precious little curls too much.

I imagined a lot of conversations happening off screen more or less. I imagined the Jaded Teens giving Steve shit because he doesn't know how to style Rosie's hair at first. I imagined Mrs. Wilson inviting them over for holidays when Sam is in town and Steve is the only white person there.

I imagined Rosie getting beaded braids for her first day of kindergarten (per the recommendation of the Jaded Teens) and Ruby being jealous as hell that she can't get beads because her hair doesn't have enough texture and also appropriation Ruby.

I also think we can trust Steve to 1. Fuck things up, bless his disaster heart and 2. Absolutely try his best to be thoughtful about raising a biracial kid and in the end do more things good than not. My confidence that Steve was doing a great job off screen made me lazy about what I ended up including.

In sum: I also thought a lot about Rosie's race and the importance of her having strong Black and Latino role models and then did not work any into her immediate family. Which is of course a real dynamic of many kids in the world, as you note! But we can expect Steve to want to do better for his daughter.

It is, of course, my own privilege and perspective as a white person that influences my author choices. No, not everything is ever going to fit. Something will always need to go.

It's a legit thing to notice and feel some tension about that for this fic, because it's definitely the case that a more nuanced approach to race was one of the things I let slide to the cutting room floor. It wasn't malicious at the time but I did actually notice later and feel regret, but not enough to re-work the story.

In retrospect, I managed to fit in Bucky fixing not just a microwave, but also a dishwasher! Clearly I could have worked in more discussion of race somewhere. 🫠🥴🙃 Not that I would cut either appliance scene. They are very dear to me. In large part because of my cultural bias!

Also it sucks extra because I hear people noting that it is not always easy or comfortable to be a person of color in such a white fandom, so I am sorry for this fic adding to that cognitive dissonance.

So thanks for asking! Sorry for all the extra crap I wrote that wasn't actually answering your question! I appreciate you taking the time to mention it!

❤️🧡💚💙💜

[emmedoesntdomath]

Getting into the well known ones that I just wanna know what you think about them

Davey🥰

I did les earlier so I feel like it’s fitting to end today with davey

david jacobs. what an enigma. the middle child of esther and mayer jacobs, brother to sarah and leshem jacobs. he’s a hot mess and a half shoved into someone who looks like they have their shit together, and his anxiety has anxiety. he isn’t the mom friend, but he is the friend who will come to bail you out of jail at 3AM.

he was named after david, who is an important religious figure in all abrahamic religions (sarah’s named after a spiritual woman also named sarah. les’ name isn’t found in the torah, but it means precious gem in hebrew).

when he first realized he was gay, he had the biggest religious crisis. by the time he met jack, he had already swung back and forth from devout religious to atheist TWICE. (he did eventually settle on believing that there was a god, and praying a little bit, but not to the point that he had been previously)

one time, a girl at synagogue told him that he looked nice when he wore blue. it didn’t really occur to him that she was probably trying to flirt with him, but he did learn to wear blue whenever he was trying to impress someone (hint. entire second act of livesies. one francis sullivan never looking away from him.)

he and kath pretend to be in a relationship sometimes. it’s kind of shocking at how well they make it work.

he skipped a grade in school, and so he’s directly behind sarah’s class when they’re both in school. she hates it and pretends she doesn’t know him in the most older sister-ly way possible (anyone else talks any crap about her brother, may the lord have mercy on their souls, because no one’s finding their body).

race gave him a very animated shovel talk when he and jack got together. spot turned right around and gave jack one, because “you’re the goddamn reason brooklyn and ‘hattan ain’t soakin’ each otha right now. ‘course imma make sure kelly don’t mess it up”

davey’s really good at impressions. like, ridiculously good. he can mimic ANYONE. when jack and race find this out, all hell breaks loose. (his pulitzer? spot on)

he gives race his old math work so he can study it.

he would either be a poli sci major (because he feels pressure to have a “real” career) or he would become a high school english teacher. no in betweens.

even if he’s not inherently religious, he still keeps kosher.

he hates planes. hates the altitude, hates the pressure, hates having to go through the security. sir is having NONE of it, thanks. he’ll drive.

sarah forced him to be the one to explain to les how babies were made. he has many regrets about that speech (it was the most medical, scientifically accurate thing ever), and they’re both still traumatized.

he doesn’t like getting drunk or high because he doesn’t like the feeling of not being in total control of himself.

(he is definitely a little bit of a control and clean freak, and I love him for it.)

[lady-hibiscus]

top 100 songs (not in order)

judge me for my taste and i will invert your ribcage <3

reign (derivakat)

poison (hazbin hotel)

use me up (paranoid dj)

forever (babymonster)

you should see me in a crown (billie eilish)

notre dame (paris paloma)

revived (derivakat)

jealousy jealousy (olivia rodrigo)

listen before i go (billie eilish)

that girl (emei)

eyes on me (paranoid dj)

everything i wanted (billie eilish)

everybody wants to rule the world (lorde)

deja vu (olivia rodrigo)

if i killed someone for you (alec benjamin)

o.o (nmixx)

ddu-du-ddu-du (blackpink)

kill this love (blackpink)

lily (alan walker)

shut down (blackpink)

cry for me (twice)

blood // water (grandson)

god must hate me (catie turner)

money (lisa)

solo (jennie)

on the ground (rosé)

autotheist (baby bugs)

jesus, jesus (noah gundersen)

lacy (olivia rodrigo)

are you satisfied? (marina)

dopamine (madelline)

wonderland (alexa)

drivers license (olivia rodrigo)

making the bed (olivia rodrigo)

force of nature (melina kb)

allergy (gidle)

run away (ryujin)

lunch (billie eilish)

belladonna (ava max)

drunk-dazed (enhypen)

mad hatter (melanie martinez)

villain (stella jang)

all the good girls go to hell (billie eilish)

dream (babymonster)

bad guy (billie eilish)

therefore i am (billie eilish)

villain dies (gidle)

doll (gidle)

revenge (gidle)

people i don't like (upsahl)

born to rule (transviolet)

badvillain (badvillain)

danse macabre in g minor, op. 40 (camille saint-saens)

dead girl in the pool (girl in red)

viva la vida (coldplay)

enemy (imagine dragons, jid)

centuries (fall out boy)

hells coming with me (poor man's poison)

empires - english ver (wengie, minnie)

runaway (aurora)

emberfire (hoyoverse)

as the world caves in - cover (sarah cothran)

bubblegum bitch (marina)

fashion (britney manson)

7 rings (ariana grande)

what the world needs (tiffany trateu)

super graphic ultra modern girl (chappell roan)

pretty little psycho (theexorcist)

baddie (ive)

love bites - demo (ive)

radio silence (rosetv, astrsk*)

klown bitch (helluva boss)

the ringleader (paranoid dj)

my bag (gidle)

so hot - remix (blackpink)

if you seek amy (britney spears)

monsters - intro (babymonster)

magnetic (illit)

i want that (gidle)

eyes roll (gidle)

blow (kesha)

cotton candy (helluva boss)

all eyes on me (jisoo)

i'm an albatroz (aronchupa, little sis nora)

kitsch (ive)

bad romance (lady gaga)

applause (lady gaga)

wannabe - english ver (itzy)

not shy - english ver (itzy)

blah blah blah (itzy)

icy - english ver (itzy)

loco - english ver (itzy)

boys like you (itzy)

rat (penelope scott)

knock (lee chayeon)

run for roses (nmixx)

sugar rush (bibi)

vengeance (bibi)

woke up (xg)

jikjin (treasure)

[badlydrawndavepeta]

greetings, rogue of time and knight of heart. lord english is already here, and we must prepare to face him. will you join my side?

Alt Calliope, who has taken over @badlydrawnrose

B33 < okay furst off

B33 < ive gotta say its purrticularly concerning that yet another one of my friends is being pawssessed by an incredibly powerful unidentified flying ingrate

B33 < like im past the whole alien thing given that im an alien twice over but this is hells of rude

B33 < even if you did give her a cool new outfit like yeah it was probably time for her to try a new look anyway

B33 < you gotta cycle through new looks like a t33nage primadonna snapping at their ragged assistant

B33 < all like gimme a new coffee this one isnt melting my tongue off so its too cold and k33p the new outfits coming until i say stop which i wont beclaws again im a t33nage primadonna of course i wont stop til i drop duh

B33 < anyway second off

B33 < i dont trust mew beclaws i dont fucking know mew and im gonna n33d a LOT of evidence before i trust mew

B33 < hot tip: possessing my sister isnt the key to earning my trust

B33 < fun fact: unpossessing her would be rad right about meow kay thanks

B33 < and third off

B33 < from my purrspective ive already helped defeat lord prissypants once

B33 < yeah wild how he k33ps already being here after being defeated multiple times

B33 < ive already done my part

B33 < why should i do that again

B33 < what makes this time so different huh

[rhondafromhr]

Last little snippet from the Grace in the church of the starry children au!!

Prompt by @aroace-elgyem. This is the final snippet I plan to post, next update will be a link the the final oneshot on ao3 whenever I finish it!!

Summary: In one timeline, Grace and her family are still highly devoted to their religion, but they worship entirely different Gods (or, rather, Lords) and have to be a little more hush-hush about it. Her old family friend, Uncle Wiley, brings her two special gifts for her eighteenth birthday: a cool, authentic vintage denim jacket from the eighties and her very own copy of the black book. She promises to use it sparingly until she’s older and she’s had more practice, but when Brenda, the pretty cheerleader at school with an obvious crush on her, confides in her that she’d do anything to get back her sister who disappeared, Grace decides to make an exception for her.

Part 1

Part 2

The next morning, Grace completes her outfit with the denim jacket and something about the feeling of its weight on her is just so right, as if it was always meant to be there. She ties up half of her hair with the scrunchy again, too. It’s not because Brenda got it for her or because she wants Brenda to see her wearing it and be happy that she likes it so much, she just prefers to have her hair out of her face. Yeah, that’s it.

She carefully tucks the book into her backpack. Bringing it to school might not be the best idea, but she’s even more reluctant to let it out of her sight. If she keeps it on her person at all times, she won’t lose it and she doesn’t have to worry about anyone messing with it or taking it, either. Even if Max Jägerman thinks snatching all the nerdy kids’ backpacks and dumping the contents into the nearest trash can is the funniest thing in the world, he would never in a million years do that to her. Nobody would. The upside of people leaving her alone is that they leave her alone. She sits down to breakfast with her parents again, fuels up with another piping hot cup of black coffee and heads out the door.

Throughout the day, she finds herself staring at her peers as they move through the hallways, some strolling nonchalantly to their next class and chatting with friends, worried only about making it on time and hoping Miss Mulberry won’t spring a pop quiz on them, others practically sprinting to get the hell out of there before Max can catch them. She watches as all of this is happening, only vaguely aware of it, feeling almost as if she isn’t quite there. Her mind is filled only with thoughts of all the different spells she could try out on them.

If she could catch one of them alone, she could devour their soul and hand it over to Nibblenephym on a silver platter. So long as she was careful to cover her tracks, she’d be fine. This is Hatchetfield, after all. People go missing every day and the police probably wouldn’t look too far into one more disappearance. Uncle Wiley would be so proud if she could pull off something so advanced right away. She knows her parents said to use the book sparingly, but she has to start somewhere. She has to do something or she’ll never learn how to harness its power. Still, she thinks it might not be a bad idea to tread lightly and start with something a little easier. She scowls. It’s so annoying when her parents are right, but they do have a point. They’re pretty well-versed in this type of thing and she knows they have her best interests at heart.

As she’s leaving English, her last class of the day, she gets her chance. She hears yelling, along with the familiar crashing sound of somebody being slammed into a locker. She peeks around the corner, careful not to reveal herself, and sees Max looming over the tall, lanky kid that always wears the bow tie and suspenders (she’s pretty sure his name is Peter. He sits with her at lunch as often as he can to avoid, well, this, but they’ve never really spoken before), holding him by the collar of his shirt. Max says something or other about staying out of his hallway and slams Peter to the ground before walking away and leaving him in a crumpled heap. He struggles to pick himself up and from the way his wrist bends, Grace is pretty sure it’s sprained or broken. This might be a good opportunity to try that healing spell. She steps out of the shadows and slowly approaches him.

“Hey, are you alright?” she asks him, doing her best not to look intimidating. She’s well aware of her reputation and while she normally doesn’t mind it, she does need him to not run away and actually let her get close enough to try out the spell.

“Fantastic,” he says with a bit of a bite “never better. You should see the other guy.”

“Let me see your wrist,” she says, kneeling down beside him “I, um, I know first aid, so I can tell if it’s broken or not.”

He eyes her uneasily, but still extends his arm, too dazed to object. She takes his wrist in one hand and uses the other to reach into her backpack and open the black book, keeping it inside so that he can’t see it. She flips to the page she needs and begins chanting the words slowly and carefully to get the pronunciation just right, saying them as quietly as possible under her breath so that Peter won’t hear. She wills herself to focus, putting every ounce of mental and physical energy in her body towards the task. She feels his wrist move beneath her fingers and when she removes them and opens her eyes, it’s once again straight. Peter looks at his wrist, then back at her, then back at his wrist again and tentatively moves it around, a mixture of surprise and suspicion on his face.

“Not broken,” Grace tells him. It’s not a lie - it isn’t broken, at least not anymore. “I guess Max isn’t as tough as he thinks it is.”

“Right,” says Peter, not sounding very convinced “uh, thanks, I guess. I’ll see you around.” He scurries off, leaving Grace to sit down on the floor. She feels a little weird, almost sort of dizzy and drained and not quite herself, but also more herself than she’s ever been. That really took it out of her. She’s glad she didn’t go straight to soul eating. She’s so focused on trying to breathe normally again that she doesn’t even notice Brenda standing over her until she says,

“Hi, Grace! This seat taken?”

Grace shakes her head, unable to really do anything else and Brenda takes a seat next to her.

“You okay?” she asks.

“Uh-huh,” Grace says “all good. Just a little tired, I guess.”

“Oh, totally, me too,” Brenda says “cheer practice was brutal today. It was all conditioning and they made us run a hundred laps. Like, literally! So many pushups, too. I can’t feel my arms!”

“Wow,” says Grace, genuinely impressed “who knew so much went into cheer. It sounds harder than football, even.”

“Thank you!” says Brenda “that’s what I’m saying! Nobody gets it.” Grace isn’t sure how to respond and they sit in not entirely comfortable, but not entirely awkward silence for a moment before Brenda says, “Hey, I saw you, like, holding hands with the bow tie kid earlier. No judgment. He’s rich, I get it. Just didn’t think he was your type.”

Grace studies her face and she could swear that Brenda almost looks a little hurt, her expression tinged with just a hint of disdain that implies there might in fact be a little bit of judgment for being involved with the bow tie kid.

“Oh, it wasn’t like that,” Grace says quickly. She’s not sure why she’s so eager for Brenda to know that. “Max pushed him and he landed on his wrist kind of funny. I was just checking it out to make sure it wasn’t broken or anything.”

Brenda visibly relaxes, her eyes softening and her lips curling into a fond smile. “That’s actually really sweet,” she says “I don’t know why people are so afraid of you.”

“People are afraid of me?” Grace says, doing her best to sound shocked and appalled. When Brenda’s eyes go wide and she starts to sputter, Grace turns to her with an impish grin and says, “I’m just messing with you. I know.”

Brenda snorts and descends into a fit of laughter. Grace thinks it’s just about the prettiest sound she’s ever heard. She’s pleased that Brenda liked her joke so much. “Okay, I take it back, you’re awful,” she says playfully, lightly swatting Grace’s arm. Grace’s face heats up. She decides not to read into it. Probably just a lingering side effect of doing that spell earlier.

Grace hears footsteps drawing near and looks up to see Kyle. Immediately, she’s a little bit annoyed. She doesn’t have anything against the guy, but does he really have to interrupt her moment with Brenda right now? They’re in the same group of friends and he gets to see her all the time.

“Hey, Brenda,” he says. “Grace,” he adds a bit more flatly.

“Oh, uh, hi, Kyle,” Brenda replies.

“You busy right now?” he says “‘cause I’m struggling, like, hard in AP Calc and we’ve got that test coming up. I know you’re pretty decent at it, so I was wondering if you could help me study?” He rubs his neck nervously. “Maybe at Pasqualli’s? My treat.”

“Pasqualli’s?” Brenda says with a slight scowl “that’s kinda forward, don’t you think?”

“Woah, hey, I didn’t mean it like that,” Kyle sputters, “they just have good breadsticks, that’s all. Besides, it’s the only good study spot in town. All the singing at that coffee shop is so distracting.”

“Yeah, I know they’re good breadsticks,” Brenda replies “everyone likes the breadsticks, that’s not the issue! The point is, I’m not going to share them with just anybody and I’m sorry, but you know I don’t like you like that. I already have a date tonight, anyway.”

Kyle’s face falls, as does Grace’s.

“Oh, uh, you do?” he says.

“Yeah,” Brenda replies “Grace and I are going to Beanie’s.” Grace’s eyes go wide.

“We are?” she says, then it dawns on her that Brenda’s probably just saying that to get out of hanging out with Kyle (although she certainly wouldn’t say no if Brenda invited her for real). She’s not totally oblivious to these things, it just takes her a minute to catch on sometimes. “Oh, cool,” she says, figuring the least she can do is help Brenda out and make it convincing “I know you were a little undecided between that and the new vegetarian restaurant on sixth street, but Beanie’s is good. I’m more in the mood for coffee right now.”

“When aren’t you?” Brenda teases and Grace kind of loves the way it makes it sound like they’ve been dating for a while, maybe even years. As if that weren’t enough, Brenda grabs her hand. Her heart is racing now. Grace laces their fingers together and squeezes, only to really help sell it.

“Wanna get going?” Grace asks.

“Sure,” Brenda says. She temporarily lets go of Grace’s hand to stand and Grace is almost disappointed until Brenda extends her arm again to help Grace up. Grace collects her backpack off of the floor, checking to make sure the book is still safely inside before zipping it up and throwing it over her shoulders again.

“Oh, uh, good for you guys. Happy for you,” Kyle says with an earnest, but sad smile. Grace and Brenda leave, still hand in hand until Brenda notices and pulls away.

“Oh, God, sorry, I didn’t even realize,” she says.

“Don’t worry about it,” says Grace with another one of those awkward, but charming smiles “I didn’t mind.”

“Good,” Brenda says “hey, uh, I think I might go to Beanie’s for real if you want to join me.” There are a few things in this world that Grace will never turn down. A cup of coffee is pretty high up on that list and as of late, so is any opportunity to hang out with Brenda. She agrees and as she sees the way Brenda’s eyes light up, she gets a weird (but not unpleasant) feeling in her chest. Probably just another side effect of that spell. They decide to walk there. It’s only a few blocks away from the school and the parking is absolutely horrendous, anyway.

They arrive and order their drinks. Emma’s working today and the owner’s back is turned, which means they’re on the house. Over her many visits here, Grace has secured a spot as Emma’s second favorite regular next to that dorky office worker who always flirts with her, because she always orders a simple black coffee and never asks Emma to sing when she tips or wastes her time with too much chit-chat. Emma even makes Brenda’s comparatively fancy beverage, an iced americano with two and a half pumps of the house-made pumpkin spice flavored syrup and a splash of oat milk, without much complaint. Grace leads her to her favorite spot at the counter facing the window and they take their seats on the slightly wobbly, mismatched stools at the end. It’s a strategic choice. Grace figures she’ll be a little less nervous if they’re not face to face the entire time.

“So,” says Brenda “if the bow tie kid isn’t your type, then who is?” Grace’s face goes bright red. She nearly chokes on her coffee.

[licoricelump]

Hot take: The lack of Shirai Ryu Ocs could be explained by the fact that the clan has what? FIve members (Hanzo, Harumi, Satoshi, Forrest Fox, Takeda) and NRS decided to kill off 3 of them without delving further into the clan's structure (mkx comic slightly mentioned the rebuilt clan, mind you - not the original one,as a "protective force" or sth,but for about 5 pages in before all of them were slaughtered (again)) and idk, there should be some Shirai Ryu members that are of equal rank to Hanzo, because pls man - don't you have any friends? Colleagues? Clanmates? Who you talk to on a daily basis ?(no not your blueberry bf) Why are you like this? Why are you sitting in the corner ruminating? The edge lord in yellow, what troubles you? Where are your friends. His close relationships are mostly vertical (clan leader - member/ father -son : Takeda/Fox/Satoshi) and only two are horizontal (Harumi/Kuai) and none of those horizontal ties depicts a "clanmate-mentality" to Hanzo. Kuai Liang at least has what? 5 clanmates of different ranks (Bi Han / Smoke, Sektor, Cyrax/Frost) to create tensions/interactions for his character depths - and thus making the entire Lin Kuei gang, not only KL, relatable, and also a good grounding way to make a character believable. Now, Which canon character is also a Shirai Ryu member, of equal rank to Hanzo, that he can socialize with (aside Harumi, who tips more to the romantic aspect and doesn't have that "brother in arm" feel) and through their interactions suggests how their clan works/what its hierarchy is/what is the underlying tension within the organization?/,in short, some grounding work for the fans to have a faint knowledge of how Shirai Ryu works and grows in interest to the clan? No one.

I try to create some Shirai Ryu ocs but damn it's hard because the clan is so vague . We have MK:Mythology focusing solely on the Lin Kuei already, i would dig a game that only focuses on the Shirai Ryu lore - and hell it doesn't have to be all about Hanzo, I just want to know wtf is that clan about to vouch for it.

Maybe I just obsess with clan hierarchy, lore and structures due to my old Warrior Cats obsession day but yeah, just a sliver of my thought about Shirai Ryu and Hanzo

(Ps: English is not my native language so bear with me the jumbled words)

[baldy-wan-kenobi]

Okay people, here we go:

Baldy's Book Club

Episode 1: "Into the Storm"

By Taylor Anderson, Book 1 of the Destroyermen series.

Okay, so, on the recommendation of my most esteemed mutual @frogblast-the-ventcore , I have been coerced to read the Destroyermen series, and post my thoughts about them as I do.

So, for part 1, here we go. I'm going to assume those of you reading have read the book, cause if you haven't, you should be going to buy it, right now. I mean it.

First and foremost, this book was written by a ww2 nerd, for ww2 nerds, and by god does it show. Taylor Anderson is a professor of history, and it shines through in every part of the book. From the technical details of the USS Walker, to the shortcomings of the Mk. 14 torpedo, to the attitudes, lives, and habits (both good and bad) of a 1942 Asiatic fleet destroyerman. Speaking of which, call me Dean Kamen, cause that's a perfect segway to talk about

The Characters

To begin with, do not expect a normal person's assessment of these characters. Expect a Normal™ person's view of them.

First: Captain Matthew Reddy. Oh my lord this man. He's an absolute mess, knows it, and yet cannot let that show, because, well he's stranded in an alternate universe with humanoid lemurs and sapient velociraptors. In my head, he's got total divorced dad energy going on, 30-something going on 50 because of stress, greying at the temples but still hot in a DILF kind of way, not overly muscular, and with one hell of a voice. (I'll admit the audio book colored my perception, but it's a fantastic audio book so I don't care.)

Next, Chack-Sab-At, the biggest and most baddass guyfailure to ever live. "Oh, I'm a pacifist" then the very second that an enemy without moral repercussions comes along he's all "I love violence and killing and murder and death and injuring people and blood and biting and cutting and-" like, seriously, dude says he's a pacifist before turning around and becoming Furry Doomguy.

Next, Dennis Silva, he-who-was-told-not-to-fuck-the-monkey-cats-but-did-it-anyway. Moving on,

There's literally more I love about the characters than I want to sit here and type out, so I'm going to cut it short, but Oh My God these characters are A+.

Next, I just want to touch on something these books made me feel. A lot of times, as an USAmerican with an actual brain, I can get bogged down in the fucked-up shit my country has done and feel like I can't celebrate what makes the US cool without making it sound like I'm excusing all the bad stuff, but this book kinda made me stop for a minute and go "man, the US is kinda fucking rad, when you think about it." Because, you know what? It is. Yeah, we've done fucked up shit, but we've also done some pretty awesome stuff. For every My Lai Massacre, there's a moon landing. For every Trail of Tears, there's a Berlin Airlift. Sometimes, it's okay to take a moment and just go "Fuck yeah, guys. Were pretty cool." Because this book really makes you feel that, at least it did to me, but I'll get off my red, white and blue high horse and keep going.

Alright, now we come to the part that I need to get out...

THE BRITISH EAST INDIA COMPANY

Literally everywhere in my life, I am haunted and stalked by the specter of a long-dead megacorporation. In every piece of media, in every topic I research, no matter what, they're there. As the Frogman quoted from me in a meme a while back "I'm being haunted by the ghost of English imperialism". What the fuck? Anyway, if you wanna chat about the book, please do, because I am at terminal levels of Fandom.

Anyway, if you want to read along for the next Baldy's Book Club, we'll be reading Crusade, the next book in the Destroyermen series.

(P.S. Frogman, I know this review isn't very good, but my brain is soup rn so this is whatchu get.