#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

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

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[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

[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

[mythicaldemigoddess-of-deltarune]

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

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[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

[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)

[netscapenavigator-official]

@a-shard-of-ace This is a good question and a very reasonable concern. I'm replying via reblog because I want to use images as visual aids. Also, my reply is kinda long-winded.

Anyway, these are valid concerns, but luckily the connectors and protocols address this fear really well.

I also want to mention (for those that don't know) there are two separate categories of EV charging: Low Power and High Power. Low Power, or at-home charging, is what I'm talking about. High Power, or DC Fast Charging, is something else, entirely. While, for at-home charging (on an SAE-J1772 cable), you can (potentially) pull the plug out with live wires, on a DC Fast Charger, you typically cannot. Most EVs have latches that will jam the cable's latch into place and prevent you from removing the cable until fast charging has actually stopped.

However, at-home charging has a variable that DC Fast Charging doesn't that makes it okay to pull live chargers out of your car, and that's current. DC Fast Chargers can pump up to 350 kW of power into your car. Meanwhile, most 120V outlets can't even supply 2 kW, with most 240V outlets being limited to less than 10 kW, and that's if your car can even handle that current. Most EVs have a limit around 7 kW.

When dealing with these low power situations, arching can occur... but it isn't that much of an issue. Pulling a live charger out of your car at home would be akin to pulling the plug on a toaster over or electric dryer. While I'm sure this would make a pretty flash, ultimately, the biggest danger in doing this isn't you getting zapped, but corroding and damaging the charger.

However, that's if you even manage to remove the charger with live wires. As I mentioned, that's actually pretty hard because SAE-J1772 has physical methods in place to minimize the chance of this happening. Basically, the J1772 protocol uses a passive means of detecting when the car is plugged in. Here's a photo of a J1772 cable:

As you can see, there are three big pins and two little ones. The top two pins are used for supplying charging current, the big one on the bottom is the ground, and the other two are used for communicating with the car. On of these communication pins doesn't communicate while charging is in progress. What it does is supply a constant, unchanging, weak current to the car. The car's on-board charger watches this current. When you depress the latch on the charger (seen here as the big silver thing on top), not only does that charger let go of the charger port, but a resistor is jammed into the communication circuit. This changes the communication current, and it lets the car know that the cable is about to be unplugged. As a result, the car can stop drawing current immediately, no hand-shake necessary. The cable physically tells the car it's done, and the car stops drawing power.

And yes, this detection can fail, but it's extremely unlikely, and like I said, even if you did rip the charger out while it's supplying power, it's not that serious. The current your house gives to your car isn't that high, and it surely doesn't warrant bricking your entire car, over.

The second concern about accidentally electrocuting yourself on live pins is also valid, but again, this was thought of. Unlike the North American power outlet, the SAE-J1772 charger was designed with decades of electrical engineering knowledge, which meant the people who designed the cable knew we could do better than some bare, exposed pins.

As you can see, the pins on the charger's side aren't exposed. They're insulated by plastic coverings. In order to get yourself electrocuted by a broken charger, you would need to jam something very tiny and conductive into the pins. Brushing against them and accidentally electrocuting yourself isn't that possible. In fact, it's only possible if the car was previously charging and failed to stop charging. While ending a charging session is passive, starting it requires an active handshake. Like I said, most modern charging connectors and protocols are designed with the knowledge that people are stupid.

However, on the car's side, things are a bit more exposed, but that's not an issue, either, because (most) EVs can't push power out of their ports, only accept it in. All of the power switching circuitry is done on the charger's side, not the car's side. So, the risk of being electrocuted by a charger that has failed to stop charging is extremely minimal.

As a result (in my opinion) the ability to remove the charger from your car (and not brick it) in an emergency situation, far outweighs the benefits of having a car-side digital lock that refuses to let go until charging has absolutely stopped, which it might never do if shit is glitchy and broken. Therefore (in my opinion) the CCS1 port's dual latch system is far better than the J3400/NACS port's combined latch system.

Honestly, seeing all these videos of Cybertrucks being immobilized because the charger refuses to release from the vehicle is actually a fun little reminder that SAE-J1772 doesn’t have this problem because, both the signal that tells the charger to stop charging, and the latch that releases the charger from the port are all done by a mechanical button on the charger’s side. Unlike having a digital button on the charger side and digital lock on the car’s side that have to communicate via the charge port and do a handshake before ending the current glitched charging handshake, like SAE-J3400 (the Tesla inlet) has.

It’s particularly a shame because Tesla has managed to propagandize EV buyers and automakers into thinking their charger is somehow better, and now it’s due to become the new American charging system by 2025, despite SAE-J1772 being a far more mechanically sound standard, and CCS1 being far more future proofed standard… sigh… Honestly, the NACS/SAE-J3400 plug being on American plug-in cars makes me want to stick to gas vehicles in a way I’ve never wanted to…

[aethersea]

you know what, I never do these things, but actually I’ve decided I would like to get to know people better! I would like to partake of the mortifying ordeal! I would like to talk about myself for a bit!

ok for the next...let’s say five days I will answer any of these things that people tag me in, or any random personal questions you plop in my ask box. I don’t have an ask meme on hand but just....pick one you’ve seen recently, or make up questions of your own, and I’ll answer. (the answer might be ‘nope that’s private’ but I will answer.) (@ the anon who asked for book recs - I see you, I’ve been thinking of books all day, I’m going to give you SUCH a long answer, I hope you don’t regret your choices bc it WILL be full of gushing)

alright, let’s go!

🌻 Tag 9 people you want to get to know better

Tagged by @booksandchainmail​

Last Song: I’m currently listening to “Falcon in the Dive” from the Scarlet Pimpernel musical on loop. I watched one or two Scarlet Pimpernel movies when I was just barely too young to fully get what was going on, and the story’s held an odd but deep-seated place in my heart ever since. A few years ago I found out there’s a musical and most of the songs are pretty stellar (go listen to “Madame Guillotine” if you like big ensemble broadway numbers, it’s a banger, the bit where he cries out for God has been running through my mind on and off for a few days now haha not like that’s topical or anything), so every once in a while I spend a few days listening to them a lot.

Sometime last year I read the actual book, and got super into the whole concept of the Scarlet Pimpernel for a while. I plotted out Pimpernel aus for several fandoms, I read the entire wikipedia article, and I went looking for bootlegs of the musical. I didn’t find one, but I did find a full radioplay-style recording of the script, complete with full musical numbers, and listened to it like a podcast.

Reader, I was so disappointed. The play adds some scenes, bc a lot of the dramatic tension of the novel comes from internal conflict and that doesn’t stage super well, and the very first scene of this play – a play written in the NINETIES – features our dashing hero rescuing some aristocrats from a French prison, and then saying to the person in the next cell, who begs for rescue but is not an aristocrat, “We have enough of your kind in England.”

Enough! of your KIND! What in the merry frickety HECK my dudes!! The book has some rather unfortunate™ takes but it is from 1905, it’s regrettable but sadly to be expected. This play is from 1997. It has NO excuse. This scene wasn’t even in the book! What! the heck!

I was so disheartened that I lost my excitement for the play, and a couple songs later I stopped listening. It occurred to me just a few days ago that you could actually stage that ironically, with the person in the cell giving the audience a “can you believe this” look, and then the rest of the play could feature assorted non-aristocratic ensemble members constantly looking at the audience like they’re on The Office. And hey, maybe that’s what they did, or something similar – maybe that was never meant to be taken as a cleanly heroic stance, and the play deals with it in a complex way. It’s possible. I wouldn’t know. Kinda doubt it though, based on song lyrics.

Favorite Color: red, probably

Last Movie: I watched that new lesbian christmas movie with my family for christmas, the one with kirsten stewart and the guy from schitt’s creek. it’s very sweet and good and kinda sad, and I really enjoyed it. it also incidentally has the best gay best friend trope in probably anything ever, bc it’s not a trope (I didn’t realize until several hours after watching that it technically fits), it’s just a guy who is the protagonist’s best friend, and they’re just all gay, and then when he Gives Relationship Advice as a gay best friend always does, it’s advice about how to deal with your partner’s hangups around coming out.

actually every part of the gay best friend trope becomes better when they’re just best friends who are both gay. the big dramatic gestures (in this case, driving some ungodly distance in the snow on no notice) go from “haha how kooky” to “queer man will do anything he needs to to rescue his queer friend from an isolating & potentially triggering situation”. the relationship advice isn’t “honey you deserve some self-respect, treat yourself”, it’s a deeply sincere reminder of the vulnerability that is shared across almost everyone’s queer experience, and look I could ramble about this for a long time before reaching a coherent point but I’m INTO IT, okay? I’m into it.

Last Show: you want me to remember what show I last finished???? impossible, cannot be done, it was a long time ago and the adhd has eaten everything that happened before last week. here, instead I’ll tell you about another movie I watched, late at night with my mom in cozy companionship just a couple days ago. it’s called Quigley Down Under and it’s about a cowboy who goes to Australia and kills a bunch of racists, 10/10 would watch again. it’s from 1990 but it feels much older, with the music choices and the cinematography of a 70s Western. the cowboy is great, honorable and fearless and kind, but the breakaway star of this movie for me is the woman who attaches herself to his side and refuses to leave. her name is Cora, and she’s crazy, in the sense that she’s not altogether tethered to reality, but this never for a second diminishes her agency. she’s fierce and clever and compassionate, and she basically never does anything she doesn’t want to in the whole movie. her arc is about overcoming trauma by taking charge of her own fear and facing it head-on, she is never belittled or dismissed by the narrative or the protagonist, and look she’s just so cool. I love her. she’s so vibrantly alive. her story could probably have been handled with a bit more nuance, but honestly for the 90s it’s pretty great. I’m no expert, but I found nothing objectionable in it, just a bit of heavy-handedness.

anyway the theme of the movie is that racism is evil and racists deserve to be shot, and this too could have been handled better (not a single aboriginal character speaks a single line of english in this movie), but it follows through on that message in every way, while still being a fun kinda campy cowboy movie. overall a very good time.

Currently Watching: started showing my sister Hilda the other day, and she’s liking it! I love that show, it’s so incredibly cute. can’t wait to see season 2

Currently Reading: lmao I wish. lately the brain has firmly rejected all attempts to read anything of any length. currently pending, bc I was halfway through them when my brain stalled out, are tano’s fic What Does Kill You Can Make You Stronger, Too, a Toby Daye book - I think it was The Brightest Fell, I got like half a chapter in and haven’t picked it up in over a month, the Locked Tomb series, and probably a few other things too. ooh! also a book called Making Sex by thomas laqueur, which is my fancy academic reading that I’ve been doing in short bursts for the past year or two when I feel fancy and academic. it’s about the development of the concept of biological sex and of gender in Western society, and it’s fascinating. has among other things introduced me to the idea that until quite recently, fathers were a matter of faith. the mother? yeah, you can watch the baby pop out, we all know who the mother is. but the father? how can you know? how can you really know? we have paternity tests these days, but for all of human history up until now, we've just had to take fatherhood on faith. (not to mention we didn’t even know what fathers were contributing to the production of a fetus. clearly it was something, since you can’t get pregnant without a penis getting involved, but we have literally not known what until the past few decades. and that is wild. it has colored ALL of human history, all of our conceptions of society and family and kinship and gender, all of it, and it hadn’t even occurred to me until it was spelled out for me in this book, and it’s just......wow.

Salty, sweet or savory: for christmas my sister and I made seven different types of cookie, most of them involving chocolate somehow.

Craving: no bc I ate so many cookies. unless sleep counts. or maybe pringles, it’s been many moons since last I had a potato chip and I miss them.

Coffee or Tea: no thank you

Tagging: @coloursisee, @krchy-tuna, @sam-j-squirrel, @xzienne, @mirandatam, @viciousmaukeries, @sepulchritude, @elidyce, and @navigatorsnorth bc it’s been a while since we’ve talked, and I’m super hyped that you’re married now. v happy for you!

[honeydazai]

Dazai/reader -> recording

content: nsfw, dom Dazai, semi public sex, recording, fingering, degradation, exhibitionism | reblogs & comments appreciated!

~1,9k words | ao3 link | kinktober masterlist

You assumed there would have been some survival instinct that prevented you from making deals with the devil, and yet you found yourself right by Dazai's side once again, his arm curled around your waist.

His hand lingered just a tad too low for it to be an entirely innocent touch; your cheeks felt hot with embarrassment as he guided you away from the crime scene, his smile sly.

Ranpo seemed to have solved the case already, anyway.

No one was going to notice you two disappearing into some shady alleyway.

Right?

As if somehow reading your mind, Dazai glanced at you. “You're not getting shy all of a sudden, are you, bella?” His voice had a teasing lilt to it; the corners of his mouth twitched up into a smirk.

You raised your shoulders in a shrug, uncertainty bleeding into your features. “I don't know, maybe we shouldn't—, I mean, we're here to support Ranpo, aren't we? We should just wait until we're home.”

“But where's the fun in that?”

You did your best not to flinch as, suddenly, his hand slipped underneath your blouse, lithe fingers pulling lightly at the lace of your bra.

“Besides, this way, you might not be supporting Ranpo, but you get to help me out in a special case. Isn't that nice?”

“I—, yeah. I guess so.”

“Don't worry your pretty little head about it, love. I promise I'll even be the one to explain to Kunikida where we ran off to.”

And, well, when he phrased it like that, who were you to protest?

Besides, you would have been a liar had you claimed that arousal wasn't already licking at you, having bloomed hotly in your abdomen ever since Dazai had begun to whisper terrible terrible ideas, promises, into your ear.

Despite having been in public, with Ranpo and some police officers mere meters away from you both, he didn't seem to have any issues with telling you in great detail just how he intended to make you come later; on his tongue and on his fingers until you were all but sobbing with pleasure, tears dripping down your flushed face.

Just the mere thought had you squeezing your thighs together in need and, while you had thought that Dazai, being the tease he was, had remained entirely unaffected by his own fantasies, that assumption was quickly proven untrue.

If he wasn't just as pent-up as you were, there would have been no reason for him to suggest a quick fuck in some dirty alleyway, after all.

“Alright, fine. Let's just be quick about it before anyone comes looking for us.”

Dazai chuckled, the noise soft. “Of course, bella.”

Mere moments later, you found yourself pinned face-first to a wall, the bricks cold against your skin, and you most likely would have complained about the more than uncomfortable position if it hadn't been for Dazai's fingers, which were quick to push against your cunt through the fabric of your panties.

“My, my, you're so wet already”, Dazai cooed, his voice sultry as he rubbed over your folds; you gave a low moan in response, your eyes fluttering closed. “That's quite naughty, bella. We were in public until just now, you know?”

You gasped as his thumb drew lazy circles around your clit, back arching on instinct despite the sensation still being dulled by your underwear. “Dazai—”

As if on cue, Dazai pulled away just a little, his fingers hooking underneath your panties and pulling to let them snap back against your skin. “Let's get rid of these, yes?”

God, you felt breathless already.

With a nod, you stepped out of your underwear and, before you were able to think about where to put it for now, Dazai all but snatched it from your hands, a smirk that never meant anything good on his lips.

“You won't be needing these for a while, bella.” Your panties vanished into one of his pockets, pink lace only barely peeking out, and your cheeks flushed with heat. His eyes sparkled with amusement while he flipped your skirt up, all but exposing you in damn public, though, luckily, no one seemed to be around. “Now, where were we?”

Before you had any chance to respond, one foot of his nudged your legs further apart, his grip on your hip keeping you balanced as you were forced to rest more of your weight against the wall.

Your breath caught in your throat when his free hand cupped your cunt from behind and, when he purposefully rubbed over your throbbing clit, a noise that sounded more like a sob than anything else left your throat.

“God, Dazai—”

“Quiet, love. We're not at home, you know?” he chastised, mirth dripping from his voice as two thin fingers were pushed into you with a wet squelching noise. Your thighs trembled. “If you're too loud, one of those pesky police officers might just come to investigate the noise he heard. You wouldn't want that, right?”

Despite the way you quickly shook your head in response — as much as you were able to anyway, with your cheek pressed to the wall —, you clenched around his fingers on instinct, wet walls pulsing, and Dazai chuckled.

“Oh? So you'd like that after all? My, how terribly naughty.” His breath was warm against your neck as he leaned forward, his lips ghosting over your throat in a mockery of a kiss. “I have no interest in sharing you, however. Not today at least. So try and be quiet, yes, love? Otherwise I'll have to gag you.”

He snickered as you tightened around the digits instinctively. Entirely unhelpfully, your mind provided you with the thought of him forcing your own panties into your mouth and, God—, you really had to get a grip.

“Please”, you whined, voice breathy, “Come on, Dazai, stop teasing—”

At this point, your arousal was sticking to your inner thighs with how much you were gushing, your clit was aching with need, and, despite not being able to see it, you just knew Dazai's smirk widened at your plea.

“Ah, well, if you ask me this nicely, belladonna; how could I possibly deny you?”

Moments later, after he crooked his fingers inside of you on purpose once, rubbing over that one special spot, he pulled the digits out, only to push his dick into you a moment later.

The fat head of it spread you open, bullying its way into your cunt, and, luckily, you were wet and needy enough to be able to handle the stretch even without lube.

Dazai gave a low moan as he bottomed out inside of you, narrow hips flush with your ass, and you whimpered; your back arched into an elegant curve. God, he always filled you out so well, and you rolled your hips back against him, trying to get more stimulation, more pleasure. Needy.

“You really are impatient today, love.” Dazai's chuckle was mocking enough for your face to grow hot. His fingers feathered over your spine, the touch barely there yet everything you were able to focus on apart from how your chest was heaving. “Usually, you would have never agreed to doing this out here. What did it for you, I wonder? When I told you I want you to sit on my face that badly? Or the fact that I said just that in public?”

He already knew the answer and so did you; your high-pitched mewl was enough of a response. Seconds later, he pulled out only to thrust into you again, setting a hard and fast rhythm so very unlike his usual teasing pace; you cried out each time the tip of his cock hit that one spot inside of you, causing your sight to blur.

“Dazai”, you choked out, your voice shaking just as much as your body was, “Fuck, Dazai—”

One of his hands suddenly slipped underneath your skirt yet again, rubbing steadily over your clit; the direct stimulation had you flinching, though there was nowhere for you to go, not with the wall and Dazai's larger body caging you in from both sides.

“Ah, you're so tight, bella.” The raspy note to Dazai's voice made you shiver with pleasure. His following chuckle made you all but burn up from the inside out, liquid heat underneath your skin. “It's almost like you're sucking me in. Quite a greedy cunt you've got there.”

The words were terribly humiliating; tears welled up in your eyes from embarrassment alone. Despite wanting to respond, the only coherent thought you managed to think of was Dazai's name, which you were steadily choking out, your voice high-pitched.

Steady circles were drawn around your aching clit, feeling like overwhelmingly much and too little at once, though, seconds later, Dazai paused in his movements.

Suddenly, there was an odd clicking noise; it took you a few seconds to place it, though once you did, a whine caught in your throat. Your brows furrowed into an unhappy frown as Dazai snickered, mirth all but dripping from his voice; just like your arousal was dripping down your thighs, sticky and wet.

“Smile for the camera, yes, belladonna?” he crooned, smirk evident in his tone alone, and, God; instead of doing just that, you were quick to hide your face in the crook of your arm, though Dazai's triumphant chuckle told you he already got a good shot of your fucked out expression.

“Dazai—, don't be a jerk, don't, ah—”

“Oh, quit whining, love. It's not your face I'm filming right now, that's for sure.” Dazai merely laughed in response, breathy and low.

His dick twitched inside of you as you whimpered again, the noise pitiful. His pace was slower than before, though he at least kept thrusting into you; a quick glance over your shoulder revealed that, now, his phone was angled between your legs, and you clenched around him on instinct at how terribly lewd that was.

The thought of him catching everything on camera — how wet you were, how needy, how your cunt was all but speared open on his dick and what embarrassing noises steadily fell from your lips — caused heat to lick at your insides, the thought humiliating yet terribly arousing, and Dazai chuckled.

“You take me so well, don't you, bella?” he crooned, fingertips ghosting over the curve of your hip. “Such a good girl. It's like you're made to take my cock.”

Suddenly, he once more rubbed over your clit, his thumb pressing down on it, and you cried out as you came, your sight blurry.

Moments later, Dazai reached his own orgasm, though you were too out of it to notice anything but him eventually pulling out and buckling his trousers back up.

Another clicking noise; you didn't even have the energy to protest as Dazai snapped some more pictures of your cunt, now loose and gaping around nothing. Pearly globs of cum dripped out of you and down your thighs; your face flushed with heat.

You vaguely noticed that your skirt was smoothed out again; your legs felt unstable as you stood upright again, clutching onto his arm for support.

“That lovely video will certainly keep me company during lonely nights.” Dazai's smirk was cheeky. Then, he reached into his pocket, only to spin a piece of pink lace around his finger. You all but sputtered at the sight. “Ah, and this will too, of course.”

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[rou-luxe]

hello I'm sorry for the long serious post

this isn't meant to be an attack or anything but these are just my thoughts on this ❤️ I'm not looking to start an argument so if you answer with aggression I'm not answering... but it seems there's quite a few fundamental misunderstandings here.

a bit passive aggressive, I'm sorry. I'm very frustrated at this.

(not proofread)

Yes, I'm one of those guilty of enjoying a darker story. But something that confuses me is, how can you expect a sweet and pure romance in a game where all the characters are tainted in the first place? It goes against the very nature of the topic.

Just because the writing is not to your taste doesn't mean it's not "good". Cybird simply prefers to have more development and focuses more on the plot than the romance. (I've only played a few paths in Ikemen Vampire / Prince / Villains, so I could be wrong.) It's certainly not for everyone - but in my experience, I enjoy witnessing all the layers of a character, both bright and dark. It fosters interest. There are multiple sides to everyone, and a flawed character feels more realistic and well-written. That's one of the main reasons why Cybird's Ikemen Series is so successful.

Since your claim is mostly based on Villains specifically, that will be what I will be basing this post on.

Villains are not supposed to be friendly in the first place. The expectation is already set from everything from the title, to the dark setting, to the cast. Most of them aren't even amicable with each other. Many of them have lived a long life of suffering and cruelty, so they have grown to be loveless and more unfeeling - like a villain. How would they even incorporate sweet loving elements in the story?

There's more about how William loves in this post here. There's also a very insightful comment on Kate's love for him in the reblogs. I can't say anything about Liam because I haven't played his path yet.

There is a strong misinterpretation of William here. William is not "interested" in Kate's demise per se: he doesn't enjoy seeing MC suffer or anything like that. It's not like he wants her to die and he'd enjoy it. Their love is dark and twisted, yes, but they are partners in crime. They'd die for each other. He does not have power over her in any way like an idol would have over a fan, that goes against the very core of his being. Their love is unconventional, but they do love each other. They support each other, and they'd protect one another until their final breath. Personally, William's path is an excellent beginning to Ikemen Villains. It sets the mood and the tone to the rest of the game.

Harrison's path is actually recommended as a starting path for those who can't handle topics as dark. In reality, he's actually very sweet and the reason why he points the gun at Kate's head in Chapter 1 is not to "pray on your downfall" - Harrison's unfriendly act and the gun serve as a warning. To remind Kate that as long as she follows Crown, she is not safe. He even tells her to just leave the one month deal because it's dangerous. His path doesn't have as much romance either. In fact, I'm on Chapter 19 and they kissed for the first time (in the main story, anyway - I have none of his side stories or premiums). But consider this: a cutesy romance in the middle of a dark story is hardly appropriate, is it? What did you expect?

If you want lovey-dovey romance, then perhaps Ikemen Villains isn't for you. "Cute, pure romance" is not at the core of its being, and it only gets darker from here. You don't have to play it, there's plenty of other otome games out there. But if you do continue it, please. Be patient, think and analyze. NOTHING should be taken at surface value. It's frustrating to see such assumptions made without a second thought.

If you want to post more like this, it would be appreciated if you don't ruin others' experiences, especially newcomers, by posting under the main tags for the game. Thank you.

edit

I've also found that you've been a longtime fan of the Ikemen Series. Villains specifically ticks you off, and not someone like Gilbert? And despite your comments about your preferred love story, Shakespeare is one of your favorites. That's rather contradictory... but I love him too. I'm curious, how did you come to love him?

Hehe, big rant about Otome games below 😍 And some spoilers(?) for William's route in IkeVil, mostly just my thoughts tho

So like, I don't know what it is about most modern Otome games that seem to think their general audience would prefer other elements in the stories that aren't... Romance? The general definition of an "Otome Game" is a story-driven game where the overall goal is to romance characters and enjoy their routes, right? And I get that not everything can be sunshine and rainbows, I'm not expecting that- but is it really too much to ask for a love that's genuine, sweet and fulfilling? Maybe I'm just becoming an old lady, but I really don't get why most Otome's I've played end up with me going, "okay so when does the kissing and romance start-"

Games like Hakuoki, Ozmafia and My Vow to My Liege are great examples of games that focus too much on everything but the romance in most routes. (Now I'm not saying all routes do this in these games but it is most of em) Good examples of Otome games that are able to balance romance with other elements to craft an interesting narrative are games like the Amnesia Series, Code Realize and Lover Pretend (at least, in my humble opinion). Now, onto my rant about William's route in Ikemen Villains! 😍🎉

Don't get me wrong, I really do like William's character a lot; his design and personality intrigue me. My issue with his route is his and MC's developing relationship? By the end of things, it really seems as though MC's "love" for Will is more like blind devotion to an idol as opposed to a smitten lover to another smitten lover. And Will's love for MC is also twisted to the point where I wouldn't even consider it love, as he seems to be more interested in her demise than anything else. Now, this is just my view on things, I could be completely wrong, but that was my takeaway. And I get it, the name of the game is Ikemen Villains of course the love/romance in the game won't be "normal", I understand that... But it doesn't stop me from being disappointed 😭 I feel like a villain experiencing sweet and pure love would've been more drawing and thrilling, but maybe that's just me, maybe- (the girlies that are into dark romance are hoopin and hollerin rn LMAO)

I've only gotten through Will's route, so maybe my opinion will change with other routes? I will say, I go to about chapter 17 with Liam's and there wasn't really any romance I could see/feel, which is why I kinda view him as more of a little brother than a lover. I couldn't even get into Harrison's route because he rubbed me the wrong way initially. Like, I'm not asking for the ML's in these games to be head over heels in love with MC from the get-go (slow burns are peak), but is it too much to ask for them to at least be AMICABLE with me? 😭 Like why is bro already praying on my downfall, what did I even do- I'm sorry, Harrison fans, but I couldn't do it. I actually really liked him in Will's route, but in his own? I couldn't do it- Maybe he gets better..? Idk. Needless to say, even though I bitch and I rant, I will continue to play Otome games because I'm delusional and I want love 😌 Anyway, I'm off my soapbox now, thank you 💗