#and anyway this isn't meant for reblogging; you will only have to deal with this post once

[asidian]

I nattered on about this a while back as an addendum to one of my other posts, but it got a little lost since it was a reblog, and the idea of it's stuck with me, so I wanted to come back to it again and expand on it a little.

One of the major themes of Dead Boy Detectives is that the good you do comes back around.

It surfaces and resurfaces throughout the series. The instances in the final episode are the most spelled out for the viewer, but there's one example that lives at the very heart of the show that isn't quite so obvious on first glance.

When Charles dies, Edwin is newly returned from hell. The show doesn't specify the timeline aside from that he escapes hell in the same year he meets Charles, 1989, but overcoming that much trauma within a year is a big ask any way you slice it. He's spent seventy years in survival mode. He's got to be a wreck, still.

At this point, he hasn't had time to develop any complicated leniency schemes to keep himself out of hell. Certainly their detective agency hasn't been formed yet. It comes later, in 1990.

For the entire rest of the series, Edwin has a least a partial ulterior motive for the good he does. He takes on cases and tries to make an impact for their clients at least in part so that he can build himself up such a shield of decency that if he ever gets dragged back to hell, he can try to plead his case. He's so ashamed of this that he doesn't admit it out loud until he's forced to by magic.

But when he meets Charles, none of that plan is in place yet. Here he hasn't taken the time to sit down and work out a plan at all. Here the agency doesn't even exist.

He sees this boy in the attic, beaten and freezing and huddling in a corner, and he comes to offer the only thing he thinks he can: light.

And when he realizes he can give more than that – when he realizes that Charles can see him, and what that means – he stays and gives more. Comfort, and kindness, and company, in the very darkest hour of all.

He takes one look at how battered Charles is, and he tells him, "I shan't hurt you."

And it is a big deal.

Arguably this one line is the very best thing he could have said to Charles in this situation, and Edwin, who struggles with people, who has spent seventy years in hell, who is still trying to sort through his own trauma, takes one look at this boy who has been beaten soon-to-be to death, and he knows that intuitively.

And to Charles? It must have meant everything. Charles has spent his entire life trying to be good enough. He smiles and struggles to please. He does the best he can for whoever he can, and for his entire life, it has never been enough. He's been hurt, over and over again, for failing to live up to his father's impossible standards or guess at his impossible rules. His so-called friends turned on him and murdered him for trying to keep them from hurting someone else.

He's on the verge of tears, alone in the dark, dying.

And then Edwin steps up carrying the metaphorical and literal light in the darkness, and one of the very first things he ever says is, "I shan't hurt you."

That's the baseline. That offer comes when Charles isn't putting on a show. He's not being brave, or strong, or charming. He's hiding in a corner, quietly freezing to death. But here comes this boy anyway, with a light in the darkness and a promise not to hurt him.

It's a moment of simple, honest kindness – of Edwin doing good because he sees someone and he wants to help.

And to Charles, it makes such an impact that he gives up his afterlife for this boy. He spends the next thirty years stepping in front of things that would do him harm. He keeps the lantern and brings it with him, when he comes to save Edwin from hell.

It's that very first moment of kindness, in the attic, that sets into motion the events that result in Edwin's rescue.

That one moment of genuine good, with no furtive selfish side intentions, comes back around to save him. He only knows Charles at all because he stopped to help. Charles only didn't pass on to his afterlife because Edwin was there for him.

And then, all those years later, Charles sets out like Orpheus down into hell to get his best mate back.

That good has come around again. That light in the darkness, literally and figuratively both, is there for him in his lowest moment because he offered it to someone else when they desperately needed it.

And that's beautiful.

[most-normal-eccles-cake-ignorer]

Good Omens: Lockdown and Crowley not mentioning his living situation in S2*

*till S2E6 when he asks if he can have his apartment back bc he's bored of living in his car but Aziraphale doesn’t hear bc mentally he’s in Alpha Centauri.

Having read the 'Crowley doesn't tell him' Neil Gaiman ask close to when I first listened to Lockdown (I lived under a rock until recently), my initial thought was HAS HE BEEN LIVING IN HIS CAR FOR YEARS?! but I think he was still in his apartment in 2020:

as far as Hell knows, Crowley just had a pool party in holy water (the holiest) so the higher-ups are probably willing to give him some space (plus Beelzebub is busy going on pub dates w Gabriel)

while there should be ~8 months between the end of Season 1 events (The Very First Day of the Rest of Their Lives on Sunday, Aug 25, 2019) and the Lockdown phonecall (on or near the 30 year anniversary on May 1, 2020), I can't imagine that's a very long time for Hell, especially if you're understaffed and busy dealing with fallout from Almostgeddon / going on pub dates

Shax dropping off mail and asking about the boiler seems like something one does in the first few months of living somewhere, not ~3 years in (if S2 is in 2023)

That said, I think the phone call underlines why Crowley never directly tells Aziraphale that he is living in the Bentley in S2, and it's just a great conversation (all hail Gaiman) sooo I wrote about it:

***Note: This post analyzes the Lockdown phonecall from Crowley's perspective only. Our heroine is feeling quite emotionally vulnerable at this point in time so things are going to hit him harder than they normally would.

I do not think Aziraphale meant to cause him pain (!!) but Crowley can't see that yet and I've written this post in a way that reflects that missing insight. (I explain in more detail in this reblog if you are interested) I am working on a companion post for Aziraphale's side of this conversation and how I think it affects his behavior in S2 because if we know anything about these two, it's that their exactlys are different exactlys.***

Crowley’s habit of sleeping to skip time like an RPG character by a campfire amuses me to no end, but in this context it feels heavy. Crowley already worries about losing time with what he loves and he probably hoped things would be different between him and Aziraphale after the events of S1. But things don’t change much. Then lockdowns start, and Crowley is trapped in his apartment alone, transcendentally bored, and unable to make his brain shut up. Sleeping a month away starts to sound less awful.

But Crowley hasn’t given up yet; he’s still awake when Aziraphale calls, and he’s even giving it two more days. Was he waiting for Aziraphale to call? Is it even possible not to at least kind of wait for someone’s call when you are cut off from everything and the caller has been your only friend and crush for millennia?

Aziraphale asks why Crowley isn't "out and about" tempting people or setting a bad example and he responds:

C: Everyone's so miserable and cooped up right now anyway, and I just… well… don't have the heart for it. A: *glowing audibly* I'm not miserable~ C: Really?

Crowley sounds genuinely surprised at Aziraphale's happiness and quickly assumes it's because the angel has been around people. He's so lonely/depressed/in his own head that he hadn't even considered someone enjoying being 'cooped up'. *sob*

Aziraphale goes No actually I put the closed sign up in the window and I'm having the Time of My Life, never had so few customers, not in 200 years!, etc. Although, he says:

A: …There were a few young lads a couple of nights ago who broke in through the back and tried to steal the cashbox! But they soon saw the error of their ways~ C: *clearly amused* Did you smite them with your wroth? A: Well I certainly gave them a good talking to, and I sent each of them home with cake~ C: *annoyed, swooning* Cake? A: Quite a lot of cake, actually. C: *physically ill from having such a giant crush on this dumbass baker/security guard* eeeekkkgghhh I'm gonna regret asking but.. ...rrgh.. *30 seconds of Aziraphale joyfully describing his baking while Crowley probably tries very hard not to imagine the angel eating each item in sensual slow motion* I stg you can hear him struggling in the background once or twice

A: …And once I've baked them, I have to eat them all myself, which was why I was so delighted— C: To send your burglars home laden with baked goods, yes, nnyeaayeah I follow…

Crowley interrupts, finishing Aziraphale's sentence in his nervous hurry to say the next bit:

C: *loud inhale* You know, I could.. hunker down at your place. … Slither over and watch you eat cake. I could bring a bottle--a case of… something… drinkable…?

He's trying to sound so casual about it but this is someone who was rejected/abandoned by actual literal God after asking what he thought were welcome, uncontroversial questions. Asking makes him vulnerable. He's supposed to be the rescuer, not a demon in distress. He does not feel casual about asking.

Crowley knows it's unlikely but he's so miserable and desperate for company that he can't help but ask, just in case. Even the smallest chance of spending time trapped indoors with Aziraphale—with nothing to do but drink, watch him eat, and talk about things they'd normally avoid—is too tempting.

A: *panicking* Oh I— I— I— I— I'm afraid that would be Breaking All The Rules! *nervous breathing* Out of the question! I'll see you… when this is over. C: Right. gnnehh. I'm setting the alarm clock for July. Good night, angel. *dial tone*

And just like that, Crowley doesn't need two days to decide. The depression nap doubles in length. He doesn't hear how badly Aziraphale wants to say yes behind the fear, or maybe he does and it hurts worse because why isn't Crowley enough for him? You can almost hear the spiralling:

SHOCKING, asking made it worse. It always does doesn’t it? Why even bother? you just embarrass yourself.. SLITHER over? why did I say that *grumble grumble* of COURSE His Holy Holiness, your only friend in the universe, would rather eat cake by himself while everything goes to shit than ~deign~ to have you in his presence. "AsK aND yE sHaLl ReCeIvE" bugger this for a lark im going to bed

(a bit dramatic but we've all been there)

I imagine sleep doesn't come right away. Maybe his thoughts drift to when he sat beside the angel at a dark Tadfield bus stop after a rather eventful Saturday. Crowley must've felt a tiny bit hopeful when he invited Aziraphale to stay with him: Heaven had withdrawn its favor and the bookshop was gone; Aziraphale was like him now. Didn't that mean things would change?

"I don't think my side would like that." Apparently not.

In the end, Aziraphale did ride the bus back to Crowley's apartment and stayed till the next morning when he caught a cab, but only to sell the illusion. Crowley understood that as far as sides went, the angel was still on Heaven's, even if Heaven wasn't on his.

And now this: the entire world is shut down; there is nothing for Aziraphale to do but stay in and read and bake in his magically reconstituted bookshop and he still won't invite Crowley in. Burglars and un-fallen angels only—nobody who asks questions.

So... of course Crowley doesn't tell Aziraphale when he loses his apartment. He already knows what answer he would get; the angel has told him so many times. Aziraphale is a company man first, a companion to one very sad owl when convenient.

If Crowley works up the courage to say 'please take me in, I have nowhere else to go' and Aziraphale goes 'sorry, no, far too political, but I WILL risk being erased from the Book of Life to protect this nude amnesiac former coworker who always hated me,' it's going to be too much. You can't sleep long enough for that type of hurt to go away. Better not to say anything.

"Then nothing has to change, does it?"

[qprstobin]

Stobin Different First Meeting AU where they go to prom together. This was meant to be an au post and turned into a mini fic oops (written completely within a tumblr post so sorry for the poor quality)

(edit: realized I should link the fic I was inspired by for those who don't follow me and so didn't see me reblog it earlier)

Steve doesn't necessarily want to go to prom, right? Like yeah, he'd been imagining it for a while, but now that he was very, very single it just didn't have the same shine that it used to. And he really wasn't ready to start dating yet. However, he didn't want to just, not go to prom, and also knew it would seem really weird (and pretty fucking sad) if he didn't go.

Which leaves him in a conundrum.

He thought for a while that maybe he would go with one of the junior cheerleaders. While he didn't have any close friends anymore, he was still friendly with plenty of people. There were girls that wouldn't be going to prom unless they had a senior boyfriend - some he had even gone on dates with in the past who wouldn't think a single prom date meant that he wanted a new girlfriend.

However, he is pretty sure most of those girls would have... other expectations for the night. And honestly? He isn't quite sure that he was ready to get back on that horse either.

... Not that he thought women were horses.

He's pretty sure men are normally the ones called horses in riding metaphors.

Anyway.

That left him stuck. He couldn't just not go to prom, but also didn't want to wind up trapped on an actual date with someone. So who could he ask?

His solution ended up coming from an odd place.

Robin Buckley was... quite honestly, kind of a weirdo.

She was cute, in an alternative sort of way. She never took any of his shit (he wasn't completely sure she even liked him) but also reluctantly laughed at the snarky shit he said under his breath during their Film History class. And not in the fake giggly way girls did when they were flirting, but didn't actually care about what he was saying, just the way he said it. She actually seemed to think he was funny. Even if that revelation seemed to piss her off.

The only reason he was even in Film History that semester - and therefore, knew who she was - was for the easy A. He got to watch movies in class, and watch movies for homework. He was willing to plow through a couple of shitty essays in exchange for a class that he didn't feel like a complete idiot in.

(Well, he was pretty sure Robin thought he was an idiot about movies, but just because he had trouble remembering the names and shit of characters, didn't mean he couldn't analyze the themes, fuck you very much, Buckley.)

They had gotten assigned a project together early on, and it hadn't been completely terrible. She had quickly taken over doing most of the writing portions, but hadn't thought all of his ideas were terrible. By the end of the project he thought they were even sort of having fun together.

He'd always been one to try his luck, take a little more than he was given. So, after that assignment was over, he started sitting next to her in class, not wanting that easy, if sharp, camaraderie to end. Robin rolled her eyes at him and asked him what he thought he was doing the first time he did it, but she never sent him away.

They ended up chatting more and more during down times, passing notes to each other and sharing sly comments under their breaths during the movies. Steve often had trouble paying attention at school, his mind easily wandering away, and it was almost as bad during most movies, but Robin helped keep him on track.

The class turned into one that was done for the easy grade, a last ditch effort to improve his already hopeless GPA, and became one he actually enjoyed.

The more he thought about it, the more he liked the idea of going to prom with Robin. It made the night seem a little less unbearable.

He thought about making a big deal out of asking her, because he knows that's what girls (and even Nancy) had enjoyed for past dances. He quickly scrapped that idea, however, because not only did he not want to put pressure on her like that, but also she seemed to hate public spectacles like that.

Or at least when aimed at her, they both enjoyed watching drama unfold in the halls a bit too much to say she hated it completely.

So Steve waits until the end of the day, their film class being their last, to pull her into an empty classroom. She follows him without question in a show of trust he didn't realize she had in him. The notion warms him, and for some reason makes it more difficult to get the question out.

"Why do I feel like you're about to try to sell me drugs or something?" Robin asked, raising an eyebrow at him. He squints at her in offense.

"Why is that your first assumption?!"

"I don't know! Why else are you pulling me out of the hallway all secretive like, making sure no one followed us, into an abandoned classroom," she asks, throwing her arms into the air.

"The classroom isn't abandoned, it's the end of the day! Also, who does drug deals on campus, that's just stupid?" He asks rhetorically, before waving one hand through the air, as if trying to erase the current thread of conversation. "That doesn't matter, you're distracting me."

"Well then, get on with it! Some of us have practice we need to get to."

"It's like talking to the kids," he mutters to himself, "Whatever. I wanted to ask - will you go to prom with me?"

That stops Robin up short. There's panic in her eyes now, though Steve isn't sure what exactly put it there. Was his reputation that bad that even band geeks are terrified of getting asked out by him?

"You want to go on a date? With me?" she asks slowly, disbelief coloring her voice, though it doesn't hide her unease.

"No, I want to go to prom with you," he scoffs, "Not go on a date with you."

"That is a date, dingus! The person you go to prom with is literally called your date!"

"Okay, sure, maybe, but I don't actually want to date you," he said, rolling his eyes at her.

Like, okay, he understood his reputation for being... what did she call him last week? A 'huge effing rake'? But that didn't mean that he was trying to date any girl that looked in his direction. A lot of girls looked in his direction. That was too many women, even for him.

Robin relaxes a little at that.

"Then why are you asking me to prom instead of someone you actually want to date?"

"Because!" he says, resisting the urge to flail his hands back at her. "I don't want to date anyone right now. Most people I ask are going to expect all these things from me - they're going to want dinner, and at the very least a kiss at the end of the night if not more, or another date the very next day. Because Steve Harrington is supposed to want those things!" He takes a deep breath and runs a hand through his hair to calm himself. "But right now? I really don't."

"Well then, what does Steve the Hair Harrington actually want?" She had relaxed fully at this point, a smile playing at the corner of her mouth.

"I want to go to prom with someone I consider a friend, someone who makes me laugh," he says after a moment of silence. "I want to dance badly to really corny pop music and drink just enough spiked punch that I don't remember how much I hate wearing any sort of tie. Then I want to go get milkshakes or go see a really trashy midnight horror flick, just because I'm having so much fun I don't want the night to end."

That small smile has grown into a reluctant grin on Robin's face. It makes her eyes shine and her freckles pop. Steve thought that if he was in a better place, if they had met at a different time, he could have fallen in love with her.

But they had met now instead, in some shitty public school elective course, and she was the closest thing he had to a friend that wasn't a snotty middle schooler.

"That sounds... like a lot of fun, actually," she says, mischief sparking on her face. "Who would've known the hidden depths hidden behind all that hair."

"Hey!" he protests half-heartedly, unable to keep a grin of his own off his face. "So what do you say? Wanna go to prom with me?"

"I guess," she sighs, acting like it was such a trial to go to prom with him. Him! But her next words make up for it. "Since we're friends, and all. However, I still expect you to buy me dinner, though you can keep the kiss goodnight to yourself."

Steve can't help the giddy laugh from spilling out of him. For the first time in weeks, he is actually looking forward to prom.

[thehollowwriter]

Warnings: Blood, child abuse, unintentional misgendering/deadnaming, bullying, implied sexual harassment (not to Timo tho) Word count: 3554

Summary: A story about Timo and his life and how he came to work for Silas

(Pls reblog and leave a comment ♥️)

Renege

Timo Byun hated empty promises. Words that were just there to fill the air, to provide a sense of comfort and hopefully, get you to leave and drop whatever topic brought up.

Empty words and fake sympathy were a constant in Timo's life. For as long as he could remember, he was given endless assurances and comforts, all of which meant absolutely nothing.

What would you do if you saw a child lost and alone in the streets, wandering aimlessly? Offer your sympathies, whisper your pities? Spare an uncomfortable glance and pretend you don't see him? Give him a glare and wonder what idiot parent lost their noise machine?

Timo was met with all of these in different forms and stages. The sight of a tiny cuttlefish swimming without direction, teary-eyed and hunger stricken, tugged at many a merfolk's heartstrings. But they never did anything, no, that would just be too much effort.

This wasn't a surpise to Timo. He'd been through this song and dance enough times. Most of his early memories were wandering the streets, digging through trashcans or trying to catch fish that swam by, and dealing with strangers ogling him.

"Are you lost?" Asked an elderly lady, her bright purple tail flicking back and forth in concern.

Timo spluttered something incomprehensible and cried harder.

"Oh, poor dear." The lady muttered, then swam away.

A merman talking on his phone drifted past. He locked eyes with Timo and quickly looked away with an uncomfortable expression

A family came swam past, whispering, glancing, sighing.

"Oh, isn't it sad what this city has come to? Children on the street... back in my day, this would never happen."

"Should we help? Give some money or something?"

"I wish we could, dear, but some horrible people send children out to get drug money. It's best we don't risk it."

A couple stared at Timo as he cowered in an alley, one with their phone camera pointed at him.

"Okay, seriously though, should we help her?" Asked one after laughing about how he looked like a scared animal.

"We don't have the time," said the other. "Don't worry, someone else will."

Nobody else did.

"Where's your mama?" A passing stranger asked before taking note of his dirty, hungry appearance and shuffling off before Timo could answer. It didn't really matter. Timo wouldn't know anyway.

It was always the same. Words, words, words, almost nothing done.

Sometimes, people would pity Timo enough to give him food, but it wasn't enough for him to live off of. When he was lucky, he could get his colour changing to work well enough to draw fish to him, but his sequence of flashing colours and lights was quick to fade, and the fish would swim off again.

Sometime bigger, older merfolk would steal his food, threatening Timo with a fate far worse than hunger if he didn't let them. How they kept finding him even when he tried to hide at night, he didn't know.

Neighbourhood kids would try to play with him and give him sweets, only to be dragged away by angry, worried parents giving him dirty looks.

The routine was the same. Wander, scrounge, rest, maybe eat, sleep, repeat.

That changed one day, when Timo woke up and he wasn't in the corner of an alley anymore. He was in a clamshell bed, blankets crafted from seaweed carefully wrapped around him.

"Oh, you're awake." Said a stranger, smiling at him with perfect teeth. "Don't worry, you're safe now. You'll be staying with us at Atlantica's Children's Sanctuary."

Timo was scrubbed clean, and his and dirty, knotted hair was cut short so it could start growing cleaner and healthier.

"It'll grow back," Timo was assured. "Don't worry."

"But I like it short," Timo wanted to say, but he kept his mouth shut.

"What's your name?" A kind lady asked, and Timo couldn't give a true answer. What was his name? Someone called him Byun once, when he was rushing down the street with some food in hand.

"Byun." He said, and she shook her head.

"Oh, that just won't do." She said. "How about I call you Saira? Byun can be your last name. How's that?"

Timo didn't really like that name, but he nodded anyway. He didn't want to risk angering these strangers looking after him.

Once he was cleaned up, he was given a bowl of porridge, which seemed more like slop than anything, and some fish to eat.

The porridge tasted like carboad, and the fish had a tang of crude oil, but he kept quiet. He didn't want it taken away.

"One day, someone's going to adopt you." He was told. "That's what this place is for. You'll have a family."

Empty, useless words.

Timo was introduced to his roommates, the other little kids he would be sharing a tiny room with.

They all looked sad and tired, and muttered a short, disinterested greeting before going back to what they were doing before.

When Timo's hair finally grew long enough, they were done up in pigtails with big pink bows.

"You must catch our customer's attention," He was told. "We can't have you looking scrappy."

His claws were filed down once a month until they were nothing but short nails.

"Nobody wants a feral child," He was told. "If they wanted to be scratched up, they'd buy a pet."

The other children avoided him. They didn't like him because of his mouth. The squirming tentacles that shot out whenever he ate made them cry, made them say he gave them nightmares.

"Scary Saira was in my dreams again!"

"They'll get used to it." He was told. "They'll play with you."

They never did.

Timo's bed was crammed into the back corner of the dorm room, a little further away from the rest. He spent most of his time lying on it, staring blankly at the ceiling.

The others were usually either playing in the playroom or outside. Timo didn't join. He stopped trying a while ago.

"We don't let weirdos in," said Aria, the de facto leader of their dorm room. "Go away."

Possible parents came and went, arriving with happy smiles and high expectations Timo could never live up to.

Only once or twice did anyone express any form of interest in hi. When that happened, an employee would rush to do the usual song of dance of, for lack of a better word, advertising him.

"This is Saira Byun," They would say, smiling. "She's a lovely little girl with a big imagination."

'I'm not a girl,' Timo wanted to say because he was a boy and he was sure of it, but what would the point be? What would they say?

'I'm sure you are." They'll say, and then ignore him because nobody at that god forsaken place cared about what he had to say.

Timo hated that orphanage. He hated it with a passion that burned like the sun.

The building itself was old, very old, and used to house nobility. It was ill-suited for children or, well, anybody.

The stone chipped and cracked, and there was algae blooming in places it shouldn't. It was slowly detoriating, but it was never fixed up.

Due to the historical value of the building and the attention sad little orphans got online, volunteers were often influencers wanting to get some extra views.

They would come in, these people, recording Timo and the others and spouting their sympathies. They weren't so nice when they turned the camera off.

Many were mean, others were creepy. Looking at the Timo and the others weird, talking about how cute they were.

"You know you're very mature for your age," one of them said to a girl not much older than Timo. "It's admirable."

Timo wasn't sure why, but that sentence made his skin crawl.

The staff weren't much better. They seemed to hate the place as much as Timo did, though they also hated their tiny tenants.

"Stop crying." Timo once heard the dorm warden say to a young boy. The "slap" sound was loud and piercing. "If you're going to be a brat, you can leave."

And didn't that just sum up this place perfectly? Be quiet and obey, or you'll either be going to bed with bruises or you won't be enjoying a free bed and food for much longer.

Don't complain, even if the same meal every day for three meals a day is porridge that tasted like cardboard and fish that had clearly been exposed to oil spills. Don't complain, even if you're being recorded by random strangers. Don't complain, even if you think some of the staff are too handsy with you to be comfortable.

It was hell there. Sometimes, Timo even felt that maybe he would be better off on the streets before perishing the thought. He can at least eat food here.

Timo stayed on his behaviour, afraid to get hurt, to get tossed out. He listened and obeyed, did what asked of him, and put on a good show for people looking to adopt.

Timo tried so hard to listen to the staff in the hopes he got adopted. It never mattered, though. Pretty him up with big bows, seashell hairclips, and trendy hairstyles, it. Didn't. Matter.

The potential parent or parents, if they were interested in him at all, eventually lost that interest and moved on to another, better child.

It didn't take long for Timo to realise why. Claws, sharp teeth, creepy mouth tentacles... those weren't desirable. Those weren't cute or good or innocent. It was wrong. It was monstrous.

"What are those?" A person screeched at horror when they saw Timo eating a snack.

"Those are her tentacles. Saira needs them to eat. All cuttlefish merfolk have them."

Then the adults huddled together, whispering amongst themselves and underestimating the sharpness of Timo's hearing.

"Those are just sitting there in her mouth? Are they always so... obvious?"

"When she's eating, yes."

"...Can you not get rid of them? Like, cut them out? Some merfolk do that, you know. Remove unwanted parts."

"No, I don't think so."

Timo was, for once, very glad this couple didn't want him.

As Timo got older, the number of familiar faces dwindled, and new faces came in to replace them until, eventually, Timo was the only one of the original group still there.

"Nobody wants teenagers." An older kid once told him, drumming her fingers against her bedframe. "They want cute little boys and girls, all bright-eyed and easy to control. Teenagers are too old, too set in their ways. Once you hit thirteen, you might as well give up. Nobody will want you, and once you turn eighteen, they'll kick you to the streets because you aren't their problem anymore."

The idea of winding up back on the streets terrified Timo. He would be back at square one, but even worse off than before.

At eighteen, he would no longer have the small advantage of being a cute little kid people could take pity on. He was no longer helpless, no longer "abandoned" or "lost."

No, he would be old enough to be a druggie, a crackhead failure that couldn't get his shit right and ended up on the streets. He would be old enough to be a disappointment, a screw up.

"That's what will happen if you don't work hard and get good grades." They'll say.

"Some people don't realise there are consequences to their laziness." They'll say.

"That's why you shouldn't do drugs." They'll say.

And all Timo would be able to do iss ignore them and bedazzle some fish to get a few scraps of food, and then hope it wouldn't get stolen.

Timo began trying even harder to impress the adults who came to visit. He concentrated hard until his skintone was no longer pink and yellow but instead matching the more human-ish skintone of whoever was looking to adopt.

He couldn't hold it for long, though, and eventually, he would shift back to his original colour and hang his head in shame.

On the rare occasion he was considered, the nightmare that resided within his mouth convinced those people that yes, a normal child would be much easier to deal with.

Not to mention, this child partially mimicking their appearance probably made it worse.

"Aren't just an angel?" And adult cooed to him once. "I promise you'll be coming home with me."

Empty promises. Useless words. Timo found himself very much unadopted years after that conversation.

The staff would comfort him, mostly trying to get him to stop looking so sad and smile for the next volunteer with a camera.

"It's alright, Saira."

"You'll be fine, Saira."

"Someone will love you, I promise."

Talk talk talk.

"You'll need money." That older kid from before told him. "Do chores for pocket money, try get a job when you're old enough. Steal, if you have to."

Timo listened to her. He tried his best, tried to get some madol from the orphanage staff. Some humoured him, giving him the minimum possible amount they could, and others rolled their eyes and scoffed.

"What we give you isn't good enough, is that it?" One hissed. "If you're going to be greedy, you'll never get adopted."

When Timo turned fourteen, he began looking around for small jobs. He applied to as many as he could and was turned down by every single one.

"We'll get back to you."

"I just don't think you're suited for customer service."

"You're far too young. Do some chores for your parents or something."

"Sorry, you don't match our company values."

After yet another rejection, Timo curled up in bed and silently cried through the night, all the way until the faintest slivers of sunlight began streaming through the windows.

He peeled himself out of bed and drifted down to the front entrance, hoping that at least fetching the newspaper would earn him a madol or two.

Timo looked through the newspaper, flipping past advertisements and celebrity drama and political news and then-

And then something caught his eye. In a tiny column at the very back of the newspaper was an advertisement for a business currently hiring.

"Hunter?" Timo mumbled out loud as he read through it. "They accept fourteen and older..."

Timo wasn't much of a hunter. He could put sea creatures in a trance with his colours, sure, but his poor control rendered that ability useless.

He was also clumsy, skittish, and shy, lacking in confidence and prone to crying. That's what the dorm warden told him, at least.

Well, he'd give it a shot anyway. Better than accepting his fate.

Timo soon found himself hovering in front of the dense kelp forest at the edge of the city, feeling more afraid of being rejected than possibly being eaten, like he was warned.

"That man is dangerous, Saira." The warden told him when he told her where he was going. "Have you forgotten all you've learned about those those types? Go, if you really want, but don't act surprised when he clamps his teeth around your throat."

Timo tried not to think about how, besides that brief warning, nobody even bothered to stop him from leaving.

In the end, it didn't matter. Silas Clearcove did not, in fact, try to eat him. Instead, he subjected Timo to one of the strangest job interviews the cuttlefish had ever sat through.

Silas, a frankly terrifying looking man, briefly looked through Timo's CV but didn't seem to actually care about it all that much.

He barely spoke, spending most of their time together staring at Timo. It didn't feel like he was judging him exactly... more like... analysing. In some weird way.

Timo was only asked three or four questions in total. If he was old enough to be hired, how fast he could swim, if he had any knowledge about the butchery business, and if he could handle viscera.

There was no question about Timo's values, no prodding about his work ethic, and nothing at all about his desires for the future or the state of his health.

It was surreal, and yet it was also a breath of fresh air. Though there were still some issues Timo was concerned about.

"I dunno how to hunt, sir," He admitted after a long, awkward bout of silence. The intensity of Silas' gaze made him feel like he was confessing a murder. "Like, catching fish and stuff. And my colours are useless. I can't control 'em."

"I'll teach you." Said Silas after a brief pause, his quiet voice not betraying any emotion. "You don't have to know. You can learn. Come tomorrow if you can."

Timo left in an almost daze, snapping out of it briefly when he bumped into who he would later learn was Silas' husband, Morrigan.

"Aw, did he scare you?" He asked, patting Timo's head. "Silas does that. Don't worry, I'm trying to get him not to freak out his interviewees as much. He's really nice, I promise. Well, sort of."

Timo arrived at home, bewildered at the strange interactions. What an odd pair. But the main thing on his mind was Silas' words.

"I'll teach you." A bold statement. A promise. And for once, they weren't empty. It wasn't a lie.

Silas, Timo soon came to learn, was a man of action, not words. His silence was not some scare tactic to use against Timo, but rather just one of the many facets that made up who he was.

Timo almost couldn't believe it when he returned the next day to find Silas patiently waiting for him, ready to go.

He hadn't lied. He hadn't replaced Timo. He actually did what he said he would.

This was a constant when it came to Silas. He did not ever make false promises. If he said he'd do something, he would do it, no matter how difficult the task seemed to be.

Spending time with him made Timo feel like he was in a fever dream. Someone so scary looking, someone who seemed to have been dragged through hell and back, spoke in a soft but firm voice that gripped Timo's attention like vice, and instructed Timo in a way that oozed nothing but patience.

When Timo made a mistake, he would freeze and expect to be yelled at, to be hit, but Silas simply corrected him and let him try again.

Morrigan would join them from time to time, though he was mostly there to observe and giggle a bit when Timo screwed up.

"It's ok," He said, always more talkative than Silas ever was. "I did that too when I was first learning. You got this."

They were both so.... strange. Especially as a couple. From what Timo knew, romance was going on dates and bringing each other plants and chocolate and kissing.

They were very aggressive with each other. Timo was worried and nearly had a heart attack when he saw them wrestling across the sand one day.

"It's fine," said Silas, wiping blood from his mouth.

"We're not actually trying to kill each other," added Morrigan, sending Timo a bloody smile.

Everything Timo had been taught seemed to tell him to quit, to stay away from these odd people and try somewhere else. But he didn't. He stayed. He liked these two. He liked them a lot, even if he thought they were weird.

They were both good teachers. Silas taught him how to hunt and make traps, and Morrigan assisted him with controlling his colours.

It took a long while, but he eventually found himself able to control them. His body finally began to obey him, shifting to whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted. The fish were drawn to him like moths to a flame.

Timo would stay much longer than intended, preferring his time there over even a second in that orphanage.

Once, when it was lunchtime, Silas slid a huge plate of several crustaceans, fish and seaweed towards him, and stared at him with those large amethyst eyes.

"Uh..." Timo stared at it, then at Silas, and blinked. "Huh?"

"You're not eating enough." Silas said. "Eat."

Timo, wondering if maybe he'd gone insane, mumbled an "Okay," and started nervously nibbling on it, bit by bit. It was probably one of the best meals he'd ever had.

By the time he'd turned seventeen, Timo was a full-fledged hunter working for Silas, helping stun prey as well as prep it all.

He got far closer to the two of them than intended over those three years, becoming, as the other staff put it, "Silas' little protégé."

He supposed it wasn't all that incorrect, especially since he began helping Morrigan pick up on the hunting after they decided to have children.

The news came a bit out of nowhere, and Timo didn't ever think they would be parents... but he was happy for them.

He was allowed to stay with them when they learned he couldn't afford an apartment even with his pay. All they wanted was that he kept his space clean and helped them out.

When Timo told Silas and Morrigan that he was a boy and his name was, well, Timo, Silas seemed very confused but accepted it, and Morrigan gave him a thumbs up.

And... they listened. They called him Timo and didn't call him she. And aside from that, they treated him the exact same as before, with just as much compassion.

Timo never said it out loud, but to him, it felt like they were a little family. Silas and Morrigan taught him to hunt and look after himself, taught him important life skills, and how to control his colours. They showed careful care for him, too. They acted like... well, they acted like parents. It was nice to imagine they actually were.

Morrigan was wonderful, but it was Sillas that Timo utterly adored. Silas, who made a promise and kept it. Silas, who was careful and understanding and kind to Timo, even if it was in a bit of a weird way. Silas, who saved Timo from absolute hell.

Silas was the best, and Timo would do whatever he could to make sure he was happy. No matter what, he'd stick by Silas Clearcove.

...........................................

A/N: I hope you guys enjoyed this juicy bit of Timo lore! Please consider this a sort of PSA as well, as I did research on orphanages for this, and the situation is pretty dire. Orphanage tourism is a thing, along with many other issues. Most of my info came from here. Please check it out. I absolutely accept constructive criticism as, although it isn't the main focus here, Timo is the first trans character I've written a story for. I hope it's OK! Sorry if the ending seems lackluster, I wasn't sure how to end it 😭

Tagging: @distant-velleity @br3adtoasty @rainesol @theleechyskrunkly @jovieinramshackle

@galaxies-and-gore @cyanide-latte @cynthinesia @officialdaydreamer00 @krenenbaker

@offorestsongs @kitwasnothere @elenauaurs @boopshoops @inotonline

@1dont-really-know @kazumify @minteasketches @elysia-nsimp @skrimpyskimpy

@casp1an-sea @offorestsongs @tixdixl @poisoned-pearls @the-trinket-witch

@ramshacklerumble @ghostiidasponk @thegoldencontracts @the-banana-0verlord @cloudcountry

@skriblee-ksk @twstinginthewind @lumdays @theolivetree123 @natsukishinomiyaswife

@authoruio @jewelulu @raguiras @honeynclove @moonyasnow

[soft-and-bitter]

maybe you could be the one (3)

Chris Evans x Personal Assistant!Reader

Part 1 Part 2

You try figuring out what to do next after Chris goes and publicly admits that he needs you more than anything. Worse, he isn't done just yet.

Word Count: 1.9k

If you enjoyed this, please consider reblogging or leaving some feedback, thanks! ❤

Despite your close proximity to Chris, few actually take notice of you. That's no accident on your part, though. In your opinion, it's one of the reasons why you've done well in the role thus far and partly why you might've landed the job somewhat precipitously in the first place: you really know how to sink into the background. Your clothing is professional but terribly non-descript, with only the barest hint of a family heirloom peaking out beyond your collar; your makeup, while deftly applied, is minimal. The message is clear: Chris is the star of the show. Period. Any member of staff, especially a personal assistant, is relegated to obscurity.

So it's rather unpleasant of a surprise to feel so many pairs of eyes on you, slithering along the spine of your back, the bare surface of your forearms. People are meant to see you then forget you as soon as Chris so much as drifts into their periphery, but their lingering gazes today suggests otherwise. You've only introduced yourself to a handful of the crew members here, and never once did you actually mention that you're Chris' PA. With the way you hover about him, though, it shouldn't be too hard to put two and two together.

Even as the interview draws to a close and the last animal is ushered off the set, you're still not able to find any sign on his face whatsoever to indicate whether he's affected by his own admission; not a pause of surprise, nor a guilty frown. Nada. Chris just sails on smoothly like the seasoned celebrity he is, never once wavering, his hearty laughter infectious, his body language open and brimming with affection.

You, on the hand, are another story. Hand gripping your work phone like some talisman, you try to hide the mortification you fear might've made it onto your face, Chris' words racing through your head on an endless loop. That, and the various ways you might be able to murder him without getting caught. Throw him overboard a cruise moving through the middle of the Gulf of Mexico, maybe? Maritime laws are more lax when it comes to murder, if you're recalling correctly from that Netflix documentary you watched not so long ago...

I sure don't think I could live without her.

Did he really have to say that? More importantly, why are you so concerned he was being genuine when he did? That's the thing that bothers you: the spontaneity of it all. Well, you think it was, anyway. But was it? Who can say when dealing with an actor like him?

The set breaks into joyful applause once the cut is yelled. Like a spell broken, there's a sudden flurry of motion as crew members continue about the rest of their day; you move aside as one of the cameramen wheels his equipment across the studio. When you look back to find Chris, he's already meandered off the set with one of the animal keepers, nodding emphatically at whatever's being said.

You take a deep breath before exhaling slowly, trying to chase away the same words that keep running through your mind, the one you want to throttle Chris for. The interview's finished, you remind yourself, and most of the crew have already gone back to their day. Now it's time for you to go back to yours, especially when there's still such a long way go to before it's done.

Chris is in the middle of a hug as you approach slowly, still trying to expel any trepidation that clings to you. You pause just a few steps back while he agrees to some selfies that the remaining crew members ask for, but as soon as he catches sight of you, Chris grins widely. You feel multiple sets of eyes on you again, their gazes focused a bit too long. Damn it.

"Onward, soldier?" Chris says by way of greeting, moving towards you. In response you smile back, determined to keep it cool. Nothing to see here folks, you want to assure everyone still hovering about, only you suspect that that may pique their curiosity even further.

"Yes, onward. But hey, don't expect another menagerie at the Shangri-La. Or anywhere else, for that matter." That gets a few light chuckles out of those still remaining.

He winks at you, blue eyes sparkling with calm mischief. "Too bad. I just love it when things get freed from their cages once in a while."

Even once you're both in the SUV, heading off to the next location for the day's final stretch of press work, you hesitate to bring up what just transpired. Now that you've left Venturepop Media behind you, its main studio no larger than a spot in the rear windscreen, most of your mortification must've stayed back too. You're still mildly vexed, not to mention confused, but at least murder is no longer on your mind.

The car is charged with silence as Melvin, today's chauffeur, navigates down a street already congested. The bodyguard assigned for this leg of the tour sits beside him, wordless. You realize, a bit suddenly, that too long an unspoken moment might be dangerous; it means more time for the both of you to think about what happened. Now that you've got some of your bearings together, you realize you don't want to upset the equilibrium.

"Those animals made a mess on your shirt," you comment, sitting beside him. Your intentions aside, it's quite true.

You watch as Chris shifts his gaze downward. He pulls at an unruly cluster of red fur on his right shoulder. "What are you going to do about it?"

The SUV slows for a red light as you unzip your knapsack. The lint roller you're searching for is hidden beneath a pack of Chris' Marlboros and a tightly bundled chord for phone charging; you dig it out as the car accelerates again. "It's either this or another shirt," you respond, holding up the roller in a way not totally unlike the rubber slipper your mom used for doling out punishment when you were younger.

"Which shirt are we talking about?" he asks.

"It's the one Leland thought you'd look dynamite in until you somehow managed to talk him out of it."

"Well, looks like the universe has spoken," he says, pulling the ends of his shirt from the waistband of his pants. Before you can even protest, Chris is already pulling the yellow Gucci top over his head in the cramped space of the SUV, chest bared to you and everyone else present. Those in the front of the car say nothing. It seems they've been exposed to stranger sights just as much as you have.

You meant to suggest he change over at the Shangri-La, but the words die in your throat and you sigh quietly instead, turning in your seat to reach behind it, where a garment bag hangs from an attached hook.

"Just so you know, I meant what I said back there."

You freeze. Fuck.

Another silence prevails, this one more potent than the last. You're still facing away from him, thank god; is it possible for you to pretend you just didn't hear?

"Ditto, I think you need to say something."

Guess not.

You turn back to face him again, Chris' new shirt in your hands. "Couldn't you have just stuck with Dodger?"

He takes the shirt from you. "I could've, but you know what? I decided I didn't want to. Besides, I never mentioned you by name and you're leaving me soon, so there's nothing to worry about if you think this is going to blow up in your face or something like that. It won't."

Maybe it's the nonchalance in his tone as he speaks, but something in you tears open. Curiosity? Confusion? A bit of both? Whatever it is, it's fueling your courage rapidly.

"Chris, you just publicly admitted you can't live without me."

"And yet you're leaving anyway."

A response bubbles in your mouth, but it's a shriek that erupts from your throat instead as you land hard against Chris while the SUV makes a violent swerve, the move so sudden and heart-stopping you blank out completely, all your thoughts dropping off a mental cliff like it didn't know was there.

A car horn blares, long and obnoxious and angry; it's Melvin doing that, you realize. "This dumb asshole," you hear him curse before he looks around his headrest. "Sorry, friends," he says.

"Wouldn't mind getting to the next spot in one piece," Chris jokes, one strong wrapped protectively around your shoulder, his other hand splayed against the tinted passenger window for purchase. "You okay?" he asks, looking down at you. The hard band of his Rolex digs into your shoulder, but it also works to remind you that you're still here and alive.

Your heart pace is just beginning to normalize as you raise yourself back into an upright position, brushing off his arm. "I'm fine, thanks. Are you okay? Is the shirt okay? I won't hear the end of it from Leland if it's not."

Chris straightens his collar with a dramatic flourish. "The shirt will remain intact."

"Speaking of things remaining intact," you begin, just as you catch the first sight of the Shangri-La in Chris' passenger window, "we're good for the rest of your interviews today, right? As in, no more going off-script like you just did?"

He leans back against the leather seat, arms folded before him. "I guess that depends. Are you going to free up one of my evenings while we're in Seoul like I've been asking you to?"

You hold back a sigh. There's more yet to unpack regarding Chris' behaviour, but the idea that he might pull this act again when you know his publicist is already going to call you up before the week closes does not bode well for you. It's Marianne who will sign off on the final cut of that Venturepop interview; you realize, with no small measure of relief, that she'll likely have the Kit Kat segment pulled out entirely. Who's to say what she'll make of the following interviews, though?

"Buddy, I'm trying. Right now the best I can do is smuggle you out of that Hyundai afterparty you promised Nick you'd attend. And come on now, you've already experienced South Korea enough times before, haven't you?"

There's a firm set in his jaw. "Are you going to work your magic for me or not?"

You hesitate, silently cursing Bong Joon-Ho or whoever it was he was trying to score brownie points with through this little foray in Seoul. Wasn't it Chris himself who mentioned to you that the director was set to make another movie in English? You can already imagine the stories he'll post on his Instagram, though you doubt Bong would be that impressed with such meagre level of devotion. Honestly, though? Whatever.

"If I do this, you'll keep to the script for the rest of today and the rest of the tour," you state. This would be it, your final push.

Without warning Chris reaches out, long fingers brushing strands of hair away from your face and over the curve of your ear. "Done."

You don't get much chance to react; through his passenger window, you can see a valet attendant pull his door open. Chris turns away from you to get out, but just as quickly whips his head back.

"And ditto? Make sure to be free that evening."



Chris being like, 'if I can't bargain with her to stay, I'll bargain with her for a date lol.'

I'm sure it's obvious, but in case it's not I am playing hard and loose with the location, Chris' career timeline, everything y'all. If I had to place this story anywhere, I'd say it's when he was promoting Avengers: Endgame in 2019, but a pre-pandemic setting is really all you need to remember for the sake of this. Huge thanks to everyone that reblogged or left feedback, which includes but is not limited to:

@emoalien69 @peteseyy @themorningsunshine @lovenewfandoms @pono-pura-vida @@she-wolf09231982 @blondekel77 @hopefulbonkvoidland @ghostlychaostimemachine @sully-stick-together @kookiemonster221 @rebloggingfanfictioninthechaos @sapphire-rogers @secondevilex @mansaaay @marvelstarker-mha98

[homocidalpotat]

I woke up this morning to find this anon. I'm genuinely disgusted, if I'm honest. I blocked them, but I'm kind of answering them anyway.

Sure, I'm white. Sure, maybe I subconsciously have privileges and benefits, but I don't think I'm all that privileged. I'm queer (asexual, genderqueer, queer), neurodivergent and with lots of issues that exclude me from the average white, mentally healthy, cishet person where i live. My point is even without being a poc, I am still in many minority groups that get hate. I had to contact the police only 3 days ago because of a hate crime that was committed against me. I understand what it's like to be mistreated for the way you are. And, seriously, I didn't make that post because I'm white. I thought skin colour didn't determine your values or opinions. I originally made that post for my blog. I didn't want all these 6000+ people to reblog it and trauma dump, but it's a free place and people have said it helps them. I made it to express why I didn't want those asks. Nothing more.

Also, I have every right to be uncomfortable with anything. Everyone does. Depending on the situation, you sometimes have to deal with it. But this is MY blog that I made for MY enjoyment. You're acting like you're about to get mad about the way I decorate my bedroom- posters about my fandoms and nature??? Instead of anti-war, anti-zionist, anti-whatever promo posters?? How dare I. It's almost as if I have the right to post and reblog whatever the fuck I want. I have utmost sympathy for those people suffering, those children, everyone. But that doesn't mean I want to experience it myself. People can have triggers and discomforts and fears. Not everyone needs to suffer to show solidarity.

I'd also like to point out that anon said "your country is funding". I'm going to assume anon meant I'm American. I'm not, I'm English and have lived in England all my life. Just to clear that up. Yes, I'm pretty sure the British government has funded Israel, but fun fact- I am not the British Government. I have no power and virtually no say in anything. I'm a highschool student. Don't blame me for something the government did. I can't change that, and if I could I would.

I'd also like to look at "standing there while a guy gets his face eaten off by tigers when you can call out for help is like , complicit. you aren't helping . you aren't even trying to help". Quite frankly, that's a terrible metaphor. I'm not actively witnessing the deaths and I can't do anything to help. Also if several tigers were mauling your face I doubt you would survive... they have very big and strong jaws so you wouldn't even have a skull at that point. Shouting would attract the tigers' attention and bring other people there to become victims of these tigers. If someone had their face eaten off by tigers, the logical response would be to run. They are past help and there wasn't anything you could do to start with unless you had a good enough gun and aim. Mourn after you escape safely. But, like I said, it's an awful metaphor- except in the way that I can't do anything to help either. I'm sorry anon but that's a ridiculous and unlikely hypothetical scenario that I will almost definitely never experience.

Also, for the umpteenth time, this post isn't about Palestine. I get asks telling me to pay for an American's medical care, a Ukrainian asking for support in evacuating their country, a Palestinian doing the same, or whatever. This isn't personal. It's not about a certain race or place or situation. It's about all of it. In fact, if any of the people that got mad about that post actually read it, they have no reason to be mad. Sorry. Just like? Read the whole thing... it explains that it is not just about Palestine. It gives over 10 reasons why I can't donate or share the posts. I made that post for people like anon. Who saw that I don't accept donation asks and decided to make me the villain. They can read that post. Oh, looks like this person is a minor. You have to be 18+ to get an account on things like gofundme and paypal. That makes sense, because you don't want them giving money irresponsibly or to a bot. Oh, and they don't even have enough money. They might not have a job and the amount of money these people need is often a lot. This person overthinks a lot. Wow, I hope they are okay. Figuring out what is a bot and what isn't must be difficult, and when they can't donate they must feel awful! This is why I made the post. That one, single, offhanded Tumblr post.

And as this is a hate anon I feel obliged to say this, yet again. I AM A MINOR. I AM MENTALLY ILL. I HAVE LOW SELF ESTEEM AND INSECURITY. I MASSIVELY OVERTHINK EVERYTHING. DON'T SEND ME ANON HATE. If you disagree with my opinions, send me an ask OFF anon, explaining in a nice and polite way why you disagree and some genuine counterpoints. I hope anyone else who sees this and decides to attack me for having boundaries can acknowledge this. Also note that my post was about my PERSONAL PREFERENCES AND BOUNDARIES, AND STATING WHY I CAN'T EVEN HELP.

I'm not asking for sympathy, I'm just asking that you consider why I said that. Why I can't give money. Why it is too much of a mental toll for me. I am so, SO sorry that I can't donate, and it destroys me. I see asks every day saying that if I don't give money, I'm a murderer. From what you can infer about me, do you think that's a good thing for me to be hearing?

under the cut is a big caps paragraph, tw for suicide, self harm, self deprecation, depression, anger. I'm fed up. and i never get angry so this is uhm. saying something..

Oh, and I don't usually get angry angry at anons but seriously. Go ACTUALLY FUCK YOURSELF YOU INCONSIDERATE BRAT. YOU CANT SEND HATEMAIL CLAIMING TO BE A MINOR THAT GETS HATE ON! THATS SO FUCKING CONTRADICTORY AND SO FUCKING BITCHY. IF YOU WANT TO GO SPREAD HATE DO IT SOME FUCKING WHERE ELSE BECAUSE I DEAL WITH HUNDREDS OF DONATION ASKS AND TONS OF ANON HATE JUST FOR HAVING EMOTIONS! WAIT FUCKING SORRY YOU DONT HAVE EMOTIONS CLEARLY BECAUSE YOU ARE A COLD STONEHEARTED BITCH AND I FUCKING HATE YOU CAN YOU FUCKING GET THAT??? IM NOT A FUCKING MURDERER OR A PRIVILEGED WHITE BABY OR A ZIONIST OR WHATEVER THE HELL YOU ACCUSE ME OF! I SWEAR TO GOD IF ANYONE ELSE SENDS ME ANY MORE OF THIS ABSOLUTE CRAP I WILL GET A KNIFE OUT OF MY FUCKING KITCHEN AND CARVE SOME FUCKING DEEP CUTS INTO MY SKIN BECAUSE THAT IS HOW I FEEL ALL THE TIME THANKS TO BITCHES LIKE YOU. HAVE A FUCKING HEART AND THINK ABOUT PEOPLES EMOTIONS. HAVE A FUCKING PAIR OF EYES AND READ ALL OF THE FUCKING POST BEFORE YOU SEE RED AND GO OFF ABOUT HOW IM SUCH A HORRIBLE PERSON. I KNOW IM A HORRIBLE PERSON THATS WHY I TRY TO KILL MYSELF THATS WHY I SELF HARM I DONT NEED A REMINDER EVERY 5 FUCKING SECONDS

[im-not-a-l0ser]

😂❓

- 🐦‍⬛

a funny or crack WIP snippet

So, uh. Here's the thing. I really don't write much comedy or crack. I don't write comedy because (as I've been told for the last 17 years of my life) I don't really think I'm that funny, and I try not to write crack because that's a pipeline to misrepresenting characters. The only one I might've had was Chapter One of Beanies, but y'know. That's already posted.

So, the only one I have isn't Hatchetfield, or even Starkid at all. It's Dear Evan Hansen. Kleinphy, to be specific. It's a 5+1, here are the first couple. I'll reblog with the other(❓) one momentarily.

Anyway, it is mildly nsfw, because that's the only way I know how to write crack apparently.

1

Most people knew that Jared could calm Connor down when he was angry, but a grand total of two people knew how, and that was Jared and Connor themselves. 

The first time, it was a massive shock. 

Third week of Junior Year, Connor was a bit up and arms at lunch. It wasn’t really his fault in all honesty, but he was the one that drew the crowd in, not that he meant to.

“I just can’t believe they even let guys like you into the school.” Connor scoffed.

“Me? You’re worried about me being in the school? You pay people to do your urine tests and you hit on every girl you see! Including teachers! And haven’t you been held back like seven times, aren’t you like legally allowed to drink now?” He was a super senior, but just the one year. Though, he drank enough that you’d hope it was legal. “But no, me, I’m the one that’s a risk to the school even though all I ever fucking do is mind my own business until someone gets into mine, you’re absolutely—”

“Hey, Murphy!” Someone suddenly yelled from the sidelines.

Even though other people were yelling both of their names, this person seemed to specifically get Connor’s attention. He was quickly approached by a short guy that only a handful of people in the crowd recognised. 

He simply cupped his hands around Connor’s ear and whispered something. Then he walked away. 

Connor’s body seemed to relax. He took a breath, pulled down his hoodie, and walked off. In a different direction than the kid, which was specifically interesting. It meant that he wasn’t trying anything, he just. Got him to stop somehow.

“Who was that kid?” The perpetrator asked.

“Jared something, I think,” Someone in the front row of the circle said. 

“What the fuck is his deal,” He laughed. Everyone else laughed too. 

Four rooms away, Jared was waiting for Connor to meet him in their designated place to be alone. Connor joined him not long after, where he was held until he didn’t need to be anymore. 

2

The next time, it was actually in public. Connor was at the grocery store with his mom— he did not want to be— and he was getting sick of the whole thing. 

“I swear, if you get another meat substitute and claim it tastes the same again, I will cut open myself and we can just eat that instead!” 

“Connor!” Cynthia exclaimed, “That was extremely uncalled for!” 

“Was it? I’m pretty sure I’m slowly dying because of the way you cook, what’s so wrong with speeding that process along then, huh?”

“Whoa, okay!” 

Someone new had entered the conversation. 

“Looks like someone needs to calm down!” He said, throwing his arm around Connor’s shoulder. Cynthia stared, confused, but her son didn’t look too shocked. More surprised that this person was here. 

He used his free hand to cover the side of his mouth and whispered into Connor’s ear. 

Most people probably wouldn’t have noticed, but Connor’s face flushed ever so slightly. The guy pulled away. 

“I’ll see you on Monday,” He said. He pat Connor’s shoulder before pulling away. 

“Oh, you fucking asshole,” Connor accused as he walked off, but it didn’t sound nearly as angry. More annoyed. 

“Who was that? Did you know him?” Cynthia asked. Connor crossed his arms. 

“Some asshole from school,” He grumbled. 

On Monday, Connor went straight to their closet, finding Jared on his knees, just as promised.

[exercise-of-trust]

(springboarding off this post: i started writing a tag essay and then a reblog essay and then partway through quoting a large section of the hobbit i began to genuinely feel bad about derailing a fun post into *gestures* this shit, but unfortunately my single brain cell decided this was the only thing we were gonna think about all day.)

i think... the original post is tapping in to an acute dissonance in property-law-intuitions between these groups, and i think the dwarves would definitely have been inclined to take the feanorians' side. but i don't think the dwarves, or at least the dwarves of the third age, would be *confused* about it - this is (allegedly) the whole issue at the heart of the nauglamir business. they've had to deal with it too. (allegedly because we only have the narrator's word for it, but whatever*)

ignoring all the extraneous description/assumptions about motives: the stated argument of the dwarves in claiming the nauglamir is that thingol has no personal claim or connection to it. the dwarves gave it to finrod, who has since died and whose kingdom is in ruins, and húrin found it there ("took it as a thief") and gave it to thingol. but it was never meant to be his! and this is a common argument in fandom today on why thingol has no right to the silmaril and should never have demanded it (and certainly should not have kept it upon receipt). the flow is exactly the same: this item has found itself in a contested state because the original owner isn't currently capable of retrieving it; someone else brings it to thingol, who considers himself entitled to keep it because it was abandoned (the nauglamir) or owed (the silmaril) (kind of**).

but all of that to say - the dwarves have been dealing with the same shit, with even more disastrous results, for nearly as long as the feanorians, and they're well aware of it. in fact the nauglamir incident is pretty clearly what's being referenced in 'flies and spiders' in the hobbit, in what's probably the most even-handed retelling: "in ancient days [the elves] had had wars with some of the dwarves, whom they accused of stealing their treasure. it is only fair to say that the dwarves gave a different account, and said that they only took what was their due, for the elf-king had bargained with them to shape his raw gold and silver, and had afterwards refused to give them their pay." a little further down: "all this was well known to every dwarf, though thorin's family had had nothing to do with the old quarrel".

so - to the dwarves, the fact that non-noldor (or non-feanorian noldor) have weird takes on stolen property isn't just an academic or theoretical issue - they're on the feanorians' side because it's their story too. (which really makes the period of collaboration in hollin, and its eventual fall, all the more tragic).

but legolas and gimli go to fangorn, and to the glittering caves, and after a long-ass time of the feanorians (and eol) being the main point of contact and alliance between elves and dwarves based on existing common ground and common interests - gimli and legolas have nothing in common at all. but they love each other and they go west together and they learn to understand each other anyway, and i'm extremely emo about it.

*on the one hand it's no fun ignoring the text entirely when you're doing meta but also, on the other, the silm does have an in-universe writer with extremely obvious personal biases? so it becomes a matter of discretion when you want to ignore the parts that seem to be a result of unfounded prejudice or wild conjecture.

**in the most generous light i can see how the silmaril could be considered forfeit due to c&c's actions against beren and lúthien. that is THE MOST generous reading and i still have issues with it, namely a) thingol was explicitly hoping the feanorians would kill beren for him even if he made it out of angband alive, b) thingol... very much also did imprison lúthien for an extended period of time, c) iirc historically a weregild was a set price codified in law, or something agreed upon/voluntarily offered by the guilty party; you didn't just... take someone's stuff and say "weregild!" when they asked for it back. yes i know isildur and the ring, whatever, that is not generally how weregilds worked and isildur's claim appears to be invalid anyway (c.f. council of elrond; frodo says "then it belongs to you, and not to me at all!" when aragorn's descent is announced; aragorn responds "it does not belong to either of us"). this is a long tangent but in conclusion FUCK THINGOL

[captaindamianos]

Hi! :3

To the anon abt eiat: I agree with captaindamianos, honestly: they said their goodbyes many times, and they talked things through! Auguste knows how much going back means to Laurent, and knows what it would be like for him to stay with him in the present - he said so himself! He's never seen him so happy, and grown, and himself, and he hasn't even seen what Laurent is like WITH Damen; he's only seen the ghost of that person. So he understands, and forgives him, because above all, Auguste loves his brother so fucking much, and couldn't resent him for being happy! It doesn't mean he's not sad to seem him go, he's simply... letting him go, you know? He recognizes he'd been holding Laurent back, not giving him the freedom and support to grow in the past, and I think he's also trying to make up for that.

Also! I think it was a great way to deal with the goodbye, maybe the best one for both of them! This way, Auguste has all the time and space to grieve his brother's loss, without being tempted by the moment to idk, ask him to come right back, or breaking down in front of him, and making this choice all the harder for Laurent, who would see exactly how hurt his brother would be. And as a fellow older sibling, I agree with this choice! If I could be assured that my sister was happy, and well cared for, and in a place where she could be the absolute best version of herself, I'd be so happy for her! Even if that meant never seeing her again. Yes, I'd grieve her loss forever and ever, but it's not as if she was dead or I didn't know what happened to her!

And, yes, this chapter hints at Laurent maybe being able to go back to Auguste semi regularly, so I guess we'll see if this is really a final goodbye👀

This got wayy to long sorry! And anon, if your ask was merely trying to say "gosh I wish we'd seen a real last goodbye, with a last hug and last words" then I'm sorry, I wrote all of this without a real reason, so... sorry, i guess?

Anyway. Isn't this fic just the best thing you've read in a while?? :3

Hiii!!!! Oh my god, thank you so much for writing all of that down. You put it into words so much better than me and I absolutely agree with everything you said. ❤️

We learnt so much about their relationship through Laurent over the course of the story and there was a lot of love, but sometimes there was a tinge of resentment over not being able to grow and show what he's capable of. Their relationship is now in an amazing place, where Auguste recognised and acknowledged that he held Laurent back, while also admitting that it wasn't him and the modern world that was responsible for Laurent's growth. I think, while it makes me very emotional to think about, it's the best possible moment for them to take the path that is right and good for them and they both know it too. Their relationship was so much better for it.

I also reblogged an ask earlier that B answered about this. Please have a look at that as well, anon.

And thank you so much for the ask and your thoughts on this!! ❤️

[lokinightfury]

Weekend WIP

I was tagged by @justhere4thevibez to show some of the stuff I've worked on recently (I've bent the seven day rule because I've not done a lot in the last week because of some life stuff happening)

Reblog this with up to five current WIPs

after you’ve posted, people can send you an ask with one of your file names. you must then write 3 sentences in that file. if the filename is one you can’t share from (for example, an event fic), write 3 sentences on it anyway, and then 3 more on another to share.

I have two main WIPs at the moment:

This IS Music

“For someone who claims not to give a shit about what people think you can’t bear the thought of your fans finding out you’re working with me, can you? It doesn’t take much, Dustin is linked to you, and now he’s been photographed with me. Hell, this is your main studio you work from. That’s what you’re actually worried about, right?” “That’s not what I meant, and you know it.” “Do I? Because that’s how it seems. God forbid that Eddie Munson is seen dead with a corporate sellout like me.” She knows she should stop, but she’s on a roll now, and the words just keep flowing. “You’ve never had to work for this, and now you do. It's killing you that good luck alone isn’t going to be enough. I bet you never had to work for anything in your life.” “Here we go again, spouting the same bullshit, thinking you know everything about me Princess. Yeah. We got lucky and got our break, but don’t think for a second we didn’t work hard to get there.”   Corroded Coffin had lived every kid's dream, their first set of gigs in the nearest big city to the middle of nowhere town they had grown up in got the attention of all the right people, and they quickly had a record deal and a platinum selling debut album. He hadn’t slogged and played to venues of five drunks, or battled for spots at open mic nights desperate to get his songs heard, to give them a chance with anybody else just to let people hear his music like she'd had to.

“You signed three months out of high school, don’t pretend you know what working hard for something looks like.” She scoffs at him, staring him down, daring him to retort. “Oh and you would? With your perfect picket fence family life? I bet you were even a cheerleader, weren’t you?”

Speak Now (which isn't published anywhere yet)

The sun slowly sets, the inky blues of the night sky chasing it down on its journey under the horizon. In a few minutes the first stars will start to show, glinting through the inky blues above the van. This is one of her favorite places to be, lying on top of Eddie’s van, pretending the rest of the world doesn’t exist. Her mom thinks she’s with Nancy, the Wheeler’s reputation giving her the easiest of alibis. Telling the truth about where she is, and more importantly who she’s with, doesn’t even come into consideration as an option.  A puff of smoke rises up above them, and she turns to look at Eddie. He’s lying on his back, already thoroughly relaxed, one palm tucked under his head while his free arm holds aloft a freshly lit joint. He offers it across to her, but she shakes her head in reply. Maybe later on, once she starts to feel the temperature drop and needs something to distract her from the cold. For now, being here, hidden away from prying eyes, free to be the person she can only be without the weight of expectation that usually crushes down on her shoulders is enough of an escape.  She sighs as she settles back, wriggling down into the blanket he laid across her half of the roof once they had climbed up here. School was winding down for the year, but the thought of the weekend ahead is still a relief. “Big plans for the weekend, Cunningham?” “Prom dress shopping.” For most other girls, this phrase would be one uttered with excitement, but for Chrissy it’s practically through gritted teeth. She doesn’t need to explain why to Eddie. He knows what her Mom can be like.  He doesn’t reply immediately, just holding the joint across to her with a tone of commiseration. This time she accepts it, pulling the acrid smoke down into her lungs and holding it before passing it back to him. She exhales deliberately, watching the smoke drift up and away from them, dissolving into the sky. The psychological warfare of trying to pick a dress that’s simultaneously acceptable for her Mom, something she would want to wear and actually in her size rather than two sizes too small for her to ‘have an incentive to get trim’ is something that can only be made to feel better with the soft buzz that Eddie’s weed brings her.

I'm going to tag (with no obligation at all) @jenniebellie @hangon-silvergirl @immortalecstasy-blog

[belltaviasbff]

I'm replying to you!...... I applaud your enthusiasm for the Moroccan soccer team........ I don't even mind your pro-Palestinian politics. As long as you keep it on your own Tumblr page where you can be whoever you want to be............ but Soap, isn't you....... she is a Tumblr about the British Royal Family............. and she has ALOT of followers from the West, from America......... and presumably she is making a living off her Tumblr page and all the people who come to it to check in on the latest Harry & Meghan games and the ins-n-outs of British Royal Family Loyalty and/or treachery............... and you just manipulated her with your pro-Morrocco World Cup Post into nuking her with your Palestinian/Israeli Political post............. she is Turkish, and Moslem, but her Tumblr is about the BRF............. and you made it an unsafe place where alot of Western viewers who wondered if we didn't want to kill our relationship with Soap......... and that is so wrong. Soap is a really nice person, and she didn't deserve any of what you set in motion on her site (which again is about the BRF)........... I'm American, and I'm not ever going to agree with you about the Palestinian Conflict (although alot of Americans will agree with you, beside the point) , and that's ok.... I'm not subscribing to your Trumblr. I don't want to talk to you about Palestine and Israel...... you can go on-and-on-and on about Palestine on your Tumblr page........... and I just do not care..... your Tumblr, your thing.............. just don't throw your shade on a really nice lady (Soap) on HER Tumblr, which isn't about anything political and make her have to deal with the fallout of the nuke you dropped on her............. that is just garbage.

whew. first of all i was confused for a while about who “soap” is and what this has to do with me…i had to dig into the notes of my post to find an account that resembles that name so thank you for that absolute lack of context!

now that i know what you’re talking about, i don’t think I have anything to apologise for. i dont choose every person who likes it or reblogs it or hates it or loves it. the tumblr you’re referring to reblogged my post on their own choice - i have never come into contact with them less still heard about them. it makes no sense - am i meant to take responsibility for not only my post and my audience, but everyone who reblogs it and their audience too?

this account you’re talking about put my post on their page of their own free will. i can deal with people having a problem with me on my blog but you can’t accuse me of ruining someone else’s blog because they chose to put my content there. if you don’t have a problem with me posting whatever i want (thank you for your permission by the way), then you should take it up with the account who reblogged it and maybe ask them why they did it. maybe the person behind that account is in fact a pro-palestinian and you should start having problems with them too.

i’m also offended by this accusation of “manipulation” but on the other hand i’m really not because it makes no sense. and the fact that you consider my palestine post to be “unsafe” for western viewers is laughable. are they really that fragile? they don’t need protecting.

anyways i sincerely hope this was a massive misunderstanding because i cannot wrap my head around the fact that someone else’s choice to agree with something i said is causing problems that i have to deal with. i will make sure to contact that account and sort something out with them nonetheless.

also you spelt muslim in a horrible way and it’s football not soccer :) have a good day.

[blvcklizard]

Ich habe 139 Mal im Jahr 2022 etwas gepostet

Das sind 32 more posts als 2021!

58 Einträge erstellt (42%)

81 Einträge gerebloggt (58%)

#reblog – 77 Einträge

#bungou stray dogs – 21 Einträge

#bsd – 20 Einträge

#servamp – 17 Einträge

#spoilers – 12 Einträge

#hunting dogs bsd – 11 Einträge

#bsd jouno – 11 Einträge

#literary stray dogs – 9 Einträge

#daily life of silver – 8 Einträge

#hyde servamp – 8 Einträge

Longest Tag: 136 characters

#i knew they were being shipped before i met them in the manga and i think it's one of the reasons why i immidiately loved them this much

Meine Top-Einträge im Jahr 2022:

#5

If Lawlicht not canon why this

Okay but jokes aside, I love this panel so much. For various reasons.

First of all obviously because of that look, come on, you don't look at everyone with so much love in your eyes.

But also the context! Because he's doubting. See how he skips straight back to the fact that they can't really do anything. (Notably he doesn't say this out loud though).

But those eyes? Those trusting, sincere eyes? He meant it when he said yes.

"But Lawless is an emotional crybaby, he'd probably want to be reassured in this situation too"

Lawless? Lawless "I'd rather watch the girl I love die than put my wishes over hers" of Greed? That Lawless? Nah, we all know what this is. Because it could still have been a form of reassurance, however directed at himself rather than Licht, but it's more likely that this isn't even necessary. Not because he doesn't care about Crantz, but because he doesn't doubt Licht.

This? That's not some half hearted lie to make either of them feel better. That's pure trust in his angel. Licht knows what he wants, and Lawless knows that he will get it.

Sounds familiar?

He has kept his Eves around for 200 years for the purpose of trying to avoid losing his mind (a little too late, Lawless, but I don't blame you). Remember the flashbacks with Iris? He didn't have faith in her or her decisions one bit. I mean, why would he?

And then Licht singlehandedly snapped him out of this state. Hmmm, I wonder why him, of all people?

Which leads us back to the topic of reassurance. Iris was entirely indifferent towards him, and we can assume that it was the same with all his previous Eves. Now Licht the Archangel cared about him (hate is a form of care too, Licht), and, most importantly, is not the kind of person to comfort him and take his hand. His reaction to Lawless's memories? He was helping him, and he was actively aware of it. And he didn't do it the nice way, but rather by telling him to get it together.

Which is exactly what Lawless needs.

(Excessive) reassurance and comfort are dangerous for people like him, even if it might feel nice. Lawless needs a strong, firm person to snap him back to reality. Someone like Licht.

Alright, that got out of hand. TLDR; Licht is the best thing that could have happened to Lawless and I have obsession issues.

73 Anmerkungen – Gepostet 2. September 2022

#4

“The last words your soulmate says to you are tattooed on your skin” AU but with Suegiku

So Tecchou goes his entire life assuming that he will kill his soulmate one day. It makes sense, right? The last words they will say to him are challenging him to a fight, and he’s strong, let alone has literally a sword-related supernatural ability. It’s the logical conclusion.

And to avoid that, his younger self made a promise to himself; he won’t try to look for his soulmate, he will just pretend he doesn’t have one. He won’t fall in love. And to his surprise, it isn’t too difficult, he doesn’t seem to be interested in anyone anyway, and any possible feelings are easy to ignore until they go away on their own.

So when Jouno joins the Hunting Dogs, it’s not a big deal to brush off all the little things he’s feeling about him. He’s objectively attractive, that doesn’t mean anything. Honesty and a strong sense of justice are admirable traits regardless of the person, right? (Sure, his methods need some adjustment, but Tecchou will gladly help him with that.) It’s only natural to be curious about him, isn’t it? Teruko probably thinks about him just as often. And she’s probably just as convinced that his eyes are as beautiful as the rest of him, and would really like to see if she’s right, too. As the stronger and more experienced one, it’s normal to want to protect him, too, and spend nights at his bed or in front of doors at the hospital whenever he gets hurt. Just, you know, normal teammate stuff. His feelings more persistent than usual, but that’s normal as well, right? They’re partners after all, so it makes sense that this small crush, if he can call it that, wouldn’t wear off as quickly as his previous ones did.

So when he hears Jouno say those words to him at the airport, it catches him completely off-guard.

That’s not real, right? He probably misunderstood, or this is some sort of mistake. Jouno can’t possibly be his soulmate, he hates him, or Tecchou doesn’t love him either. He was so careful after all, right? He has never seen Jouno’s tattoo, he was equally scared it would sound like something he would say and something he would never say, and besides that, Jouno wouldn’t have shown it to him anyway. So he can just assume, but there’s no way he didn’t misunderstand, right? They didn’t even get as far as actually fighting, so...

It’s not urgently important, though, is it? If he needs to act, he will do so, anyway. If Jouno is in danger, he will protect him, and he’ll have enough time to figure things out later.

But Jouno is going to be safe. They will chase after those terrorists together, and Tecchou doesn’t need to worry until then. There will probably be some complications with the ADA, and he will protect him when he comes back, like he always does.

But for now, he doesn’t need to worry. Jouno is going to be safe. He is with their commander, after all.

85 Anmerkungen – Gepostet 1. Mai 2022

#3

Things I wonder about in BSD that will probably never be elaborated on:

Why did Tecchou hesitate when Jouno told him to kill Yosano

What was Gin about to say/do when she addressed Tachihara before he made her stab him in chapter 68

What is Teruko's actual age

The whole page around the "because my friends think I'm invincible" line from chapter 56. Why does he look so sad? So lonely? Does his acceptance of not being an ability user lead to feeling isolated from his friends? Has his trust in the president as well as the others been broken/bruised? Why is no one talking about this?

122 Anmerkungen – Gepostet 18. Januar 2022

#2

Chuuya fans being shocked about the new chapter

Akutagawa/Tachihara/Jouno fans:

176 Anmerkungen – Gepostet 2. Mai 2022

Meine #1 des Jahres 2022

Since with season 4 many people will meet the Hunting Dogs for the first time, I would like to tell the anime-onlys that these two are soulmates

199 Anmerkungen – Gepostet 10. Februar 2022

Hol dir deinen Tumblr-Jahresrückblick 2022 →

[mythicaldemigoddess-of-deltarune]

Adam, Steven & Sans Plus New Fam With Vasslitzo (2024)

----------

[Note: make sure to click on this drawing to view it better, I plan to use this as a Cover for a future chapter for either the Spinelluva Boss AU story or the story that is a Crossover with Hazbin Hotel, Helluva Boss Transformers Animated and Other Series, where Sari is a Adult and is 23 years old but will become 24 years old on her birthday in a future chapter....so yeah, I plan to use this drawing for both here and for over at Quotev but it might be a while maybe in a few days when I write something that will match a little bit of this drawing...so yeah Please Do NOT reblog this without my permission, it is only for here and for the future plans I have that involve it being a cover for one of my stories over at Quotev. ]

Credit for Hazbin Hotel & Helluva Boss goes to Vivienne "Vivziepop" Medrano

Credit for Steven Universe goes to Rebecca Sugar

Credit for Undertale & Deltarune goes to Toby Fox

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

[Edit Note 2#: before anyone reads this, let me point this out...I'm still not okay with what Stolas did and realizing about his and Blitz's deal really meant, and Blitz may have develop feelings slowly over time, but it doesn't change the fact what Stolas had done, but he possibly didn't know what he was doing when he suggested the deal with Blitz in the first place, and that it was wrong. that still doesn't give him a excuse, even if it was partly because he still had some form of feelings for Blitz, but he went about it the wrong way, which hopefully he will learn from it and try to apology to Blitz...I had to edit the post before this one, which apparently has some misunderstandings, and I had to edit some other purple words in...and please don't misinterpret my words, as mad as I am with Stolas, I think that he might be clueless with some things...like not understanding the deal he made with Blitz was...well how it was, and Stolas needs to prove he isn't like the rest of the men and women from our universe, who do that on purpose...I'm going to try to hope Stolas does change for the better, and he doesn't make the same mistake with Blitz again, because I want to believe he had no idea and he wouldn't do that whole certain thing on purpose like some women and men have done to others...so please, do not misunderstand what I'm trying to point out and say...anyway, you can read the rest of this now...and one more thing, as the song goes from Hazbin Hotel..."It Starts With Sorry" and if Stolas truly didn't mean to hurt Blitz, that is first step...to say sorry to Blitz for everything and wanting to start over and possibly be friends first.]

yeah even if it would be mostly at 100% be in a Fanon Timeline,

Adam being reborn as Steven, but not getting his memories back as The First Man until maybe in his early or mid 20s...or when he gets technically reborn/ resurrected as Sans by Gaster who finds Steven's lifeless and gemless body that fell in the underground in the ruins, and he ends up giving Steven/Sans a part of his magic from his soul that goes into Steven/Sans's soul and making him Gaster's REAL son.

but while Steven could still have remnants of what makes him half-gem, even in his organic body, he could of still went through aging backwards and he only stop when his body started to you know..."fall down"...and Gaster's magic reactivates that power that Steven showed many episodes ago, and once his body now a skeleton hybrid monster, was back to life he ended up aging back to being a baby.

so yeah, Gaster had to take him in and if Papyrus is Gaster's son as well, both Sans and Papyrus could technically be Half-Brothers but Papyrus wasn't born yet when this event happen.

I guess it be a bit more interesting that when Sans becomes a Adult, his memories of when he was Steven and how he died and how he ended up falling into the underground full of monsters, as well as remembering past lives before being Steven, that he was Adam and was leader of the Exorcist Angels...would probably blow Sans's mind.

Steven Quartz Universe (who would later become Sans...)

being Adam's (from Hazbin Hotel) own Reincarnation, isn't really Canon and is really just for Fanon Timeline and Crossover Purposes.

also being a Ally for Aces, can be a good flag to have too,

and I like the idea of Vassago being a Ally for Asexuals.

and yes my Fan-Headcanon and theory is that Blitz could possibly be Demisexual and Panromantic...or just Panromantic Asexual.

and yeah the words in this drawing says "Remember To Both Respect & Love Your Ace-Partner, And Don't Be A Verosika or Stolas" and I hope the message is well understood and not misunderstood.

and it's good that Blitz and Verosika are a bit cool with each other now, and I guess kind of friends now.

but I still don't think Stolas and Blitz should get back together, at least not right away...only when Stolas stops being a Apple Sugar Spice Honey Of Liquid Egg and realizes he is NOT the full victim in this, but Blitz is...

but at least I'm not the only one who figured this out, and someone else who made a video about how Stolas is the one with the problem and started that whole uncomfortable flirting first, had of course pointed out that Blitz needed to help Loona by taking her to the hospital to the Sloth Ring.

who knows how many fans have figured this out, that Stolas is just...

he can't see how much he hurt Blitz, well not just him, and it isn't like he even defended Blitz when Verosika, Fizz and Ozzie were being jerks at Ozzie's...

if it were possibly to slap Stolas, that would be great...cause he might need it...too bad Charlie doesn't slap him, well either her or Bee.

Dennis isn't even a real Ex, that guy was kissing a emotionally vulnerable Blitz, who was still hurt from what happen at Ozzie's.

I'm not going to feel fully sorry for Dennis, because he and everyone else at Bee's party, were kissing a emotionally hurt and vulnerable Blitz.

Stolas having the uncomfortable flirting thrown back at him and saying that it makes him "uncomfortable"...I mean, yeah...that is what you put Blitz through every single freaking day, and possibly even during the Full Moon...

but hopefully Stolas can be redeemed and he figures out that he is not the real victim in that mess, Blitz is...

but Blitz is made to believe he isn't, and he is fully at fault when really he isn't...both parties can share the blame, but I think at times one of the parties can share the most blame.

Blitz might believe he is a terrible person, because he broke some hearts...but those people at that party, even Dennis...

they probably didn't deserve him, not even Stolas, at least not now at least...because Blitz isn't the problem, it is possible that his Exes were the problem, even ones who weren't truly Exes like Dennis.

and yeah I don't believe Stolas deserves Blitz's Love right now, at least not yet and not with how Stolas views things right now, like him being the victim when it comes to his deal with Blitz being called off, and he didn't give a proper explanation to give Blitz a heads up that he is being serious before talking about his feelings about still wanting Blitz around...but Stolas did give Blitz the impression that he wanted "snu-snu" with him like all the time, and the song that Ozzie sang about Stolas's affair with Blitz, and how Stolas hid his face with a Menu and the other stuff that happen, might of really got to Blitz.

Stolas didn't even try to defend Blitz, even if he was a little scared, he could of did it because he loved Blitz...but then again, I guess it is just the physical love that matters most to him...but he better prove us all wrong.

I don't know how many fans are siding with Blitz over Stolas, but who knows how many there are out there.

we can only hope that when those two do end up back together, it will be better...and Stolas doesn't pull the same Sugar Honey Ice Tea like he did before...and he is so lucky he didn't give Ozzie the full truth on why he needed that Asmodean Crystal.

because I don't think Ozzie would of been too happy with Stolas, and would of only given Blitz one of his crystals for Fizz who tells him it's okay to give Blitz one of the crystals.

I think it might be a good idea that Blitz and Stolas do NOT get back together right now, it is best they get different partners for now, and for Stolas he can be with that Better Than Blitzo Guy, while Blitz could find new love somewhere else at some point...

and at some point when Stolas and Blitz do work things out, they can get back together...but Stolas still needs to work on some of his problems he has...

this drawing took from August 30 to August 31 to finish, but I also had to edited a bit on September as well.

I know that there are still some drawings I haven't fully finished yet, but hope to get around to doing so sometime.

and yeah Steven Quartz Universe/Sans being the reincarnation of Adam from Hazbin Hotel, is just a weird idea that pop into my head that I like to be in a Fanon Timeline.

plus we could see it as a idea for the Crossover Fanon Timeline, that the reason why Steven hated to see Lars and Sadie not be together romantically and Lars leaving for Space, and Sadie dating Shep.

it could remind the Adam part of himself, about Adam and Lilith even if the situation of the split between Adam and Lilith were different from the reasons Lars and Sadie not ending up as boyfriend and girlfriend...

I'm still not going to view the Lilith from our universe as a full victim anymore, because she abandoned her and Adam's children, with only half of them surviving while the other half got Exterminated by those three angels...and I'm still not happy with those three or the fact they hurt half of my Uncles and Aunts, with it being a whole lot of Greats in there...but still, Lilith didn't have to go back for Adam, but for their children instead...but I guess we were never important enough, now were we...?

Eve is still The Gran-Gran Ancestress as well, but it still means that both her and Lilith are Co-Mothers, since the part that makes up Adam & Lilith's Bloodline ended up mixing with Eve's Son Cain's Bloodline (even if it does turn out Adam is the adoptive father, but he can still be considered the true father.) and then at some point that line ended up marrying into Grandpa Seth's Bloodline, who is the son of both Adam and Eve...

and even if Lilith did have demon children, she didn't have them until after what happen to half of her and Adam's Human Children...

I wouldn't be surprise if some percent of Adam and Lilith's human children ended up reincarnating so many times and got reborn into modern day and might have either full or small bits of past life memories, that could be a possibility.

and hopefully we find out why the Lilith from Hazbin Hotel, was gone for 7 years...but it might be a while before we find out.

I'm still not going to view Lilith from that universe as a full victim either, since both she and Lucifer are part of the reason why Adam became a worse version of himself...and it is possible that before he died and became a Angel, he may have ate his feelings away with food, thanks to being cheated on more than once.

as well as possibly other reasons...

plus it isn't just the Adam from our universe who is at fault, I mean Gran-Gran Lilith didn't give any form of Sugar Honey Ice Tea about going back to protect her and Adam's children, and stopping those three angels from doing that messed up extermination.

so who's to say that the Adam from Hazbin Hotel, may not of been as bad or controlling as he was made out to be in that story book that Lilith made, and yeah Charlie wants to make her Mother Proud, but ya have to wonder if Charlie's Mom, didn't come off as Toxic-Woman Supremacy...and Adam (from Hazbin Hotel) is suppose to be the one with the ego...?

like she could of added into the story that "Lucifer and Lilith's Hope Remained In Their Daughter, The Princess Of Hell." but no, she had to make it out as just Lilith's Hope remained in Charlie, not like both Lilith and Lucifer's Hope remained with their daughter...

anyway hopefully we will find out more about Charlie's Mom Lilith, and see if she really is two-faced or not, because some fans already suspect she owns Alastor's Soul.

anyway the drawing itself isn't really mature, but I wanted to put the tag for "mature audiences only" just in case.

anyway I hope some like this Crossover drawing, that has to do with the idea for in a Fanon Timeline, Adam is reborn as Steven Quartz Universe who would later become Sans The Skeleton...

and hope some like the Vassago x Blitzo ship in this as well, which might only end up being Fanon and it could be possible that Stolas and Blitz will get back together...just not right away, and hopefully Stolas will be able to figure out that Blitz is the one who deserves a apology from him, for what happen at Ozzie's, for what happen between them when Stolas wanted to give Blitz that crystal.

it is possible some things between them, need to be worked out first before they can get back together and become more than what they were before.

if Adam did get reborn as Steven who would later become Sans, at least he will end up having a Great Goat-Mom as a friend.

if Sans did use the Asmodean Crystal in the Crossover Fanon Timeline, he could disguise himself as a Human, but instead of becoming how he looked before when he was Steven, he becomes Adam instead, so becoming taller thanks to magic from his hybrid monster soul, but also from the gem powers that are still inside him.

but instead of having golden eyes, his eyes stay a light blue color, and even in that form he can still use his powers like summoning Gaster Blasters.

and yes, Adam is wearing Headphones in this drawing.

I kind of want the song he is listening to with those on, be the one by Faouzia and the song is called "Born Without A Heart"

cause as weird as it might be, that is just one of the songs that I think fits Adam from Hazbin Hotel, plus it matches how I feel at times as well.

don't know how many others ended up shipping Blitzo x Vassago, but I'm willing to check and see how many have by looking for any art of those two being together. :D

[capybaraonabicycle]

6, 14, 21 for the wip questions!!!!

Thank you so much anon <3

I have reblogged too many wip ask games so now I am left guessing which one you meant 😅 I'll go with the last one I reblogged and if I am mistaken, please lmk and I will do the correct one?

I am going to go with my beloved cat wip - I fear this continues to be all I think about. If you haven't heard me talking about it: the fic is basically "The Doctor with fam 1.0 adopt a cat who isn't a cat. (fic contains copious amounts of thasmin pining)"

6. Does this chapter/fic have any twists that you’re proud of?

Hmmm, there is the very obvious one with 'the cat is actually a character we have known for a long time and not a cat!' but that is a given, that's like the whole premise of the fic.

I don't know if there are many twists, the story actually moves in quite a straight line. Maybe? Or maybe it just seems to me that way because it comes from my brain. Anyway, there are a few times I am tricking the readers a little and I enjoy those.

Towards the end - so this is a bit of a spoiler now, but the question was always asking for that right? - for example, there is a scene where I 'forget' Ryan exists. So like I'll have the narrator - Yaz - comment on what everyone is doing and how she feels about that and she just stops mentioning him all of a sudden like he's just not part of the story anymore.

Which is later revealed to be by design - and I would like to think I am hinting at that earlier - but I hope the readers will stumble over it and go "hey, author, you know how one of your main characters is Ryan?! Why the hell have you stopped talking about him? Yaz is not THAT gay that she would forget about him just because she's focused on the Doctor! (and like, he's doing some important stuff rn we would kinda like to know how he's getting on with that?!)"

(Aaand I just realised I did a little bit of the same to Graham - just that with him the others actually forget about him on accident. Not that you can blame them, some REALLY weird stuff is going on while he gets left out)

14. What have you been finding frustrating with writing this chapter/fic?

So I have been mentioning the plot and the length before. I am at about 42k words now with a complex-ish plot and a new alien species to fit my liking. (who I then kill off at least for now so yay 🙃 - I might have to change that actually if I come up with something better)

This fic was never meant to be long or complicated. It was supposed to be a fun little cat fic. And now the cat isn't even in it for like 3/4 of the fic 😔

(and right now I am finding the editing of what I have written most frustrating tbh, might do that only quickly and badly in the end)

21. Share 3 songs that would belong on a playlist for this chapter/fic.

tw suicidal thoughts mention in the cavetown song

Juno - cavetown (comforting vibes, cats <3, doing the hard but good thing for the sake of a pet, the staying alive part isn't too far off either - more for the general characterisation of 13 and Yaz than in my fic specifically but anyway) (I also find the line 'she's never done nothing wrong' brilliant in regard to Siren. Because she absolutely hasn't done anything wrong but also she's a little devil and has killed so many people)

In the middle - Dodie (I've realised I do not know many throuple songs so this is a little for lack of better alternative. But I also like the playfulness of the song. River would approve)

Brave - Sara Bareilles (one of my personal coming out songs so it holds a special place in my heart and we're dealing with quite a bit of coming out in the fic. Also the fic is about Yaz (and others) having to be brave in multiple aspects. And about the importance of open communication so yeah - they'd need a song like this)

[bandage-hearted-butterfly]

Hey! I saw you reblogged my post and was simply intrigued. Basically I'm on a mission to represent the non-human/alterhuman/otherkin/and so many others/ communities properly and holy shit seeing someone actually say they could relate to something I posted that they hadn't seen talked about WAS SUCH A BIG DEAL FOR ME! that's my only goal with this damn blog! (Sorry I'm functioning on caffeine right now) anyways, I'd love to hear anything else you think needs to be talked about more in our communities that isn't represented enough or is represented wrongly

Hello! I'm glad my resonance meant so much to you; I haven't seen anyone else convey the in-between space that I so often find myself in. It makes me wonder if the fictionkin label is the correct one for me as I haven't seen anyone else in the community discuss this feeling. As in my tags, instead of feeling one or the other, one soul in multiple lifetimes, I feel as though I have two souls in one body, my own and that of my kintype. It was more delineated in the beginning, but the shifts became harder to tease apart and now feel completely harmonious.

I suppose as far as representation is concerned, I believe you mention on your blog that you've heard that there isn't much discussion in way of psychological kin? I joined this community under that label because it helped me to make sense of my dissociative episodes in a way that felt grounded and comforting, later adopting the spiritual beliefs held by the otherkin community. I know this isn't a one size fits all experience, but seeing so many align while my own feels like an odd one out makes me wonder. It also makes me want to discuss my own experiences more, essentially as a way of reaching out to those who may feel similarly.

Seeing people discuss their experiences as fictionkin feels like an experience I am adjacent to; others discussing memories and especially reminiscing over friendships or relationships while I simply never felt that way, very interesting considering the powerful relationships my kintype has (had?). I wouldn't go as far as to say it feels isolating, but it feels almost as though my labeling of my experiences is incorrect due to the minutiae being so different from what appears to be the standard.

Of course, I only began to formally identify with this community maybe roughly a year or so ago, first jokingly but later realizing how genuine this truly is for me.

All in all, to answer the question, I suppose I would like to see more discussion of psychological kin, and, on a more difficult to pin down thought, I would love to see more discussion around unconventional experiences in the kin community. I know I feel something and I know it feels right to be where I am, but I can't quite nail down why it seems to be so different from those I see. I still miss a lot of the vocabulary as I haven't been around quite long enough, but the thoughts and questions linger.

Thank you for coming to me and saying hello and inquiring! I'm always glad to discuss experiences and I'm even more happy to see when those discussions are truly meaningful ✨️

[sarah-dipitous]

Hellsite Nostalgia Tour 2023 Day 32

Crossroad Blues/Tooth and Claw

I think I'm in for two good episodes tonight...

"Crossroad Blues"

Would I Survive the First Five Minutes??: Are we getting our first glimpses of hell hounds? (as far as we really get glimpses of them anyway) Sorry to this man, but you don't trade away your soul for the ability to play an instrument (if that's what you did). You better be the best there's ever been already when your soul is on the line. Yet to be seen...but I don't think I'd be selling my soul, so they wouldn't be after me anyway...

Dean, that's definitely a "you're right but you didn't have to say it" kind of thought. Not every...no, I don't know that there are very many people who would be thinking about how much or...how hard a hell hound could hump your leg...

DEAN DOESN'T KNOW WHAT MYSPACE ISSSSS. Poor thing. Also...omg MYSPACE being relevant. But '06 is about right. Facebook is still pretty much just for college students. They MIGHT have opened it up to high schoolers by then.

Man, this demon was just making deal after deal at that bar. Makes sense, I promised to name my first born Red Gyarados while at a bar with friends once.

Ok. I get it now. The demon at this particular crossroads is REALLY, REALLY PRETTY. But you wanted to make that pact BEFORE you saw her, sir.

OKAY. If so few people believe in the supernatural in this fictional universe, how are all these people making this many pacts in so little time?

This guy's the only one..........oh, sorry. It's an "Oh, Dean" time for me. Them piecing together and stewing over the fact John made that deal.

This demon is good....at being a demon, not actually good.

This...music is not sounding good for this demon. Don't worry, Dean. You will know sooner or later (end of next season) what Hell is like.

Sam's worry and uncertainty as to what Dean was planning on doing when he trapped the demon is...I wanna give him a hug

Not a bad episode. The information they got was important, but there was just a lot of "this person made a deal and so we need to track them down" that...just didn't interest me

"Been On My Mind...": The demon kisses to seal their pacts, but otherwise...nothin'

"Tooth and Claw"

...why do I feel like I've turned on the wrong show?? Seems like it's at least from the right country, but this opening scene is....just...wtf. Why was there a huge martial arts fight??

Ok. I am actually watching the right show. Still. What. the actual. fuck. was that opening?!

Hearing David get to use his natural Scottish accent IS in fact doing things for me. And Rose trying to copy and FAILING MISERABLY is perfection

7 minutes in and I couldn't agree more with the post I reblogged a few days ago. Those two definitely fucked since the last episode

Oh...oh. THIS is where Torchwood as a concept begins (physically, it's already been mentioned several times in the show, even if I didn't. Somehow, I never watched Torchwood.)

OH THAT TELESCOPE. it's BEAUTIFUL.

For a scene that consists of food being prepared and Rose going through the lady of the house's closet, the music is INTENSE.

Ooooo jumpscaaare. Maid in the closet. Starts telling Rose everything as all the guards get drugged. This is a WEIRD episode for on that deals with time travel and not space travel.

So...the werewolf is actually an alien possessing a human?

One of my favorite things about Doctor Who especially in this era is how fake the CGI monsters look. Like, I love practical effects when you can do them, but there's something about bad TV CGI that I really do like. It's charming, in a way that bad CGI in movies isn't

Watching the Doctor figure out that there's a trap within the trap for Queen Victoria that's meant for the wolf is like watching Brian David Gilbert try to reconcile the Legend of Zelda timeline, and I have to wonder if he got any inspiration for his whole thing for Unraveled from this.

The diamond...as soon as I saw it, I knew it was meant to go in that telescope

Also the piecing together historical fact with what has just occurred in the episode, making the royal family werewolves this time around is always a fun time.

(I think I wrote too much the other day and I'm suffering because of that)