#and how unglamorously people react

[spaceratprodigy]

one of my favorite things abt how faith reacts to max in fallbrook arc is her being directly faced with her own hypocrisy

[eleemosynecdoche]

Okay. Oil fire serious posting, huh? Now my friend @rlyehtaxidermist is a patient, forbearing soul, and I've been known to get a little hot under the collar at times. The language may get spicy. You have been warned.

Anyways, there are people apparently trying to do some kind of shipping war over this interpretation of Touhou 19 and of Sanae and Tsukasa. They level three basic charges- that there's no support for it, that it's a shallow sex ship, and that Tsukasa is obviously manipulating Sanae. Let's take it from the top.

1. No Evidence, Not Canon

Well, I could go and take screenshots and get the Japanese text and screenies of confirmed "sex isn't real in Touhou" people trying to puzzle out the parts of the Japanese text where Sanae and Tsukasa use very familiar language with each other. But I won't.

Why does it matter? Like, take it as a given that this is the case, that this ship is created from nothing. What would that mean? That people need to stop talking about it? Or restrict their posting about it to some kind of space for non-canon shipping? Is that reasonable?

Look, shipping characters on the basis of them being in adjacent stages has a history in Touhou. Some of them, like Parsee/Yuugi, got ZUN offering some support for it much later, through indirect means. Others, like Nitori/Hina, are kind of unpopular nowadays. People still make art and comics and doujin novels for those unpopular ships based on proximity. And why shouldn't they?

Some of my favorite doujin works- Ōkawa Bkub's "Charm" series, ALISON Airlines's drug-themed and mind-expanding works, Komaku Jūshoku's Ran-chama shorts- are far outside the boundaries of what ZUN produces. I think it's good that people take what ZUN puts down and run with it. I think that's a much healthier way to creatively engage with an artistic work you enjoy. It also gave us Higurashi When They Cry, Umineko When They Cry, Undertale and Deltarune, and other independent works where the influence isn't quite as obvious.

Anyways, all that freedom brings with it people being allowed to ship in ways you think aren't canonically supported, as part of being able to creatively reinterpret the work they're engaging with.

2. It's A Shallow Sex Ship!

Now let's be fucking clear here- what people are implying by this is pretty clearly "You're using this shipping to get off!"

Look. Do you really think that people are likely to be getting off to the idea of sex that's unglamorous and kinda mediocre, a bit awkward? If there is some kind of fetishist of that kind posting about SanaKasa, I'll buy them a drink to salute their extremely broad and abstract sexuality, which would be quite rare indeed.

I'm being mean. The more likely thought process here is that social assumptions around whether anyone would use direct and somewhat crude language about weird sex without being aroused at that moment or being some kind of perpetually-horny sex pervert are shaping how people react to seeing posts where a foxgirl's tail is used as a proxy for her having an erection.

So set that aside. I'm gonna talk about why the sex posts are meaningful to me personally.

I'm not an old hand of Touhou fandom, I came to it as a grown adult with the period between Legacy of Lunatic Kingdom and Hidden Star in Four Seasons as my entry point. But what I learned very quickly is that there's a lot of Touhou stuff, posting, art, comics, fanfics, where people offer up sexual content that I find deeply unappealing (mostly because it's dull, het, and not infrequently invokes sexual violence). And then, eventually, I realized that there was a kind of reaction to this state of affairs.

This was the sense that Touhou fandom was divided into bad sexual stuff and good desexualized stuff. And sexual stuff from a lesbian or WLW perspective was lumped in as part of the bad, with an assumption it was made for men too. And so if you wanted to enjoy the lesbian overtones of Touhou, the Touhous better not be having sex!

This is in turn correlated, I think, with the sense of Touhou as the whimsical side of the "cute girls having tea parties" media metaconcept. All of this ties really heavily into a broader social understanding of sexual desires between women, between nonbinary people, (or even between men much of the time) as intrinsically predatory and needing to be desexualized to be acceptable.

But Touhou isn't a series about cute girls doing cute things at tea parties in the text. In the games, it's a bunch of rude women threatening each other with violence in erudite ways, then engaging in elegant examples of that violence, and finally going drinking together. There's intrinsic sexual tension to all of that. It's people flirting with each other, showing off their stuff, and then getting to know each other at a bar.

Touhou's gotten more explicit about the sexual side of things. Tsukasa, who's drawn with what are instantly recognizable as sexually charged expressions, lidded eyes and insouciant gestures, whose outfit loosely resembles both short pajamas and a romper dress with the skirt cut away to show off the built-in bloomers, is a noteworthy chunk of that, and then she gets treated both in the fandom and in UDoaLG by powerful beast youkai as, essentially, a born slut.

But the sexual aspects have been there since Perfect Cherry Blossom at the latest. The implicit flirtatiousness, the women with extremely close relationships. So what talking about Tsukasa having bad sex and falling in love means to me is a couple of things- it's an acknowledgement that sex is going on. It's also a way to engage with Tsukasa as a character who's engaged in what is only barely subtextually survival sex work, and offer up the possibility of love in a very normal and unglamorous sense, for Tsukasa to be sexual and yet loved and fully worthy of love.

Making them both transfem or transfeminine-coded (i.e. Tsukasa probably didn't transition, but her penis is still effectively a trans woman's rather than that of a cis woman who shapeshifted in terms of how characters understand her position and body) is in turn an extension of that, of how trans women's bodies are fetishized (especially in sex work). And taking these bodies we, as a group of people, have, and treating them as sexual, but in a more naturalistic way yet playful way. And so for me it's just a matter of being truthful- this is describing the situation in terms of the world as I know it, within certain specific boundaries of Touhou I like to use.

This humongous nerd can have a loving, fulfilling relationship while not being good at sex and having to figure that out. This poor little kon kon can be loved without it being transactional, without having to try and become purified and sweet and "More tea, Miss Sanae?" Even bad girls (in several senses) can love and be loved. If you're gay enough with your cringe girlfriend, a miracle will happen.

All of this is of course my hyperprecise sexual fetish. Every last word of it.

3. All According To Tsukasa's Keikaku

"Tsukasa's just manipulating Sanae!"

Why is it important that Tsukasa be an undefeatable schemer and manipulator?

Let me put it this way. If Tsukasa can manipulate everyone equally well because everyone has weaknesses in their heart or whatever, that's blandly cynical. It makes her out to be some kind of overwhelming malevolence. If Tsukasa is really really good at manipulating powerful, perceptive, and forceful women, but completely unable to affect naive, slightly gullible, says exactly what she's thinking Sanae beyond marginally? That's funny! The one person that should be a cream puff to manipulate is beyond manipulation!

It's thematic! Someone who's open and honest and not trying to manipulate other people can't be manipulated in turn, because she's rejecting the game. It's relevant to Tsukasa's character! UDoaLG makes it clear that tube foxes are despised, that they're seen as weak and unable to fight like real women do. Tsukasa has to manipulate people because it's her only way to keep from being crushed, or so she thinks, because she's immersed in that reality.

Sanae isn't manipulatable, but also doesn't really try to crush her. Sanae offers a relationship between equals, even if they have different power levels.

It even plays into neurodivergence and mental illness- think of Tsukasa as someone unsure if she's manipulating people or not. Sanae being autistic and not manipulatable provides a reassurance that she's capable of doing better.

None of which means she's going to start being a saint or even a decent person, just that she's an awful person whose awfulness is hard to separate from her situation, but she can be in a better situation without having to become good first. She can stay malicious and kinda sucky and we know she's doing it on purpose now! We can say, "you are yucky disgusting, babygirl" and squeeze her into a Pringles tube without guilt. With minimal guilt.

Also, abilities are self-declared and Tsukasa's method of manipulating the other polycule members in Unconnected Marketeers mostly seemed to be encouraging them to do what they wanted to do already. Similarly, she can manipulate Aun in UDoaLG by playing on Aun's desire to be helpful and the dangers of the situation, but Aun also knows it's safe because her other body is back at the shrine. She's not, frankly, massively strong. In demonstrated "power levels" she's a step below Yachie "failgirl" Kicchou. Think about that.

Made it all the way to the end? Congratulations! Imagine a Touhou ending slide where I'm (whatever you think I look like) holding up Tsukasa and Sanae sock puppets.

[starseedfxofficial]

Master Forex Trading with EMA & Jobless Claims for Smart Gains How Jobless Claims and Exponential Moving Averages Can Make You a Smarter Trader Let’s be real—when you hear the words "jobless claims," your first instinct might be to hit snooze, right? It sounds about as thrilling as watching paint dry or trying to explain why pineapples belong on pizza. But hold up, because the connection between jobless claims and the exponential moving average (EMA) is one of those under-the-radar tricks that can elevate your trading game. We're talking next-level stuff that other traders wish they knew. The EMA isn’t just some fancy line on your chart; it’s the secret sauce that can help you make sense of market trends. And jobless claims? Well, they might just be the fuel that drives those trends in unexpected ways. Imagine EMAs as your compass, and jobless claims as the weather forecast—together, they help you navigate the sometimes stormy seas of forex trading. Let’s dig into how these two seemingly unglamorous topics can actually lead to some serious gains. The EMA: More Than Just a Fancy Line An Exponential Moving Average (EMA) is like that one friend who’s always in the know. It moves faster than a Simple Moving Average (SMA), giving more weight to recent price action, which means it’s particularly helpful when markets are shifting rapidly. Essentially, the EMA tells you what’s hot, what’s not, and when it’s time to get in or get out—without you having to play guessing games. The beauty of the EMA lies in its sensitivity. It's not just any line; it’s a responsive indicator that moves swiftly enough to keep up with changes but filters out the unnecessary noise. Think of it as the difference between a speedboat and a yacht. The SMA might be reliable, but the EMA has the agility you need for real-time trading decisions. Jobless Claims: The Market’s Mood Indicator Jobless claims are like the canary in the coal mine of the economy. They can tell you when things are about to get rough before everyone else figures it out. A sudden rise in jobless claims means fewer people are working, which translates to lower consumer spending—a major driver of economic growth. And when jobless claims drop? That’s like a green light for market optimism. Here’s where things get interesting for traders: jobless claims don’t just affect the stock market; they can significantly influence currency values too. If the U.S. posts unexpectedly high jobless claims, for instance, that often means trouble for the USD. A weak economy leads to speculation that interest rates might be cut, which in turn makes the currency less attractive to investors. This is where EMAs come in to help you capitalize on those moves. How to Use EMAs with Jobless Claims Data for Maximum Gains - The "Trend Confirmation" Combo: When jobless claims come out and they're higher than expected, you can bet that markets will react. The EMA can help you determine if that reaction is more than just a knee-jerk response. If the 50-day EMA crosses below the 200-day EMA after a bad jobless claims report, it's a clear sign that sentiment is turning bearish. Picture it like seeing your favorite celebrity unfollow someone on social media—it’s often a sign of a bigger story. - Spotting Reversals: Let's say jobless claims are trending downward—a positive sign for the economy. At the same time, you notice the price has dipped below the EMA but then quickly bounces back above. This crossover can indicate a potential bullish reversal. It’s like seeing someone get back up after a slip—if they’re standing tall, it’s time to pay attention. - The "Jobless Bounce" Setup: This is one for the pros. When jobless claims come in below expectations and the price is riding an upward trend above the EMA, you might consider a long position. It’s like seeing an underdog rise—everything’s lining up for a move to the top, and the EMA is there to guide you. Think of it as surfing; the jobless claims are the incoming wave, and the EMA is your board—ride it well, and you could make some impressive gains. Advanced Tactics: Going Beyond the Basics Okay, now for some next-level moves. EMAs are great on their own, but when paired with jobless claims data, they can give you a competitive edge others simply don’t see. - Using Multiple EMAs for Granular Analysis: Pair a short-term EMA (e.g., 10-day) with a longer one (e.g., 50-day). If jobless claims are fluctuating week to week, watch the shorter EMA. When it crosses the longer EMA, it’s a cue to prepare for a momentum shift. It’s like watching a marathon—if the sprinter starts overtaking the endurance runner, you know something’s about to change. - Combine EMAs with RSI for Double Confirmation: The EMA tells you what’s happening, but the RSI can help confirm whether a currency is overbought or oversold. After jobless claims drop, watch for the EMA to cross and check the RSI. If the EMA crosses upward and the RSI is in an oversold area, it’s time to make your move. It’s like checking both the weather app and looking outside—always better to double-check. The USD/JPY Setup in 2024 Take, for example, the USD/JPY pair earlier this year. In March 2024, jobless claims came in much lower than anticipated, suggesting economic resilience. At the same time, the USD was trading close to its 20-day EMA. Traders who recognized the double signal—a positive economic indicator and price bouncing above the EMA—set themselves up for a solid long position. As the price continued to trend above the EMA, it confirmed the bullish sentiment, resulting in impressive gains. Expert Insights: What the Pros Say "Jobless claims provide a quick snapshot of economic health, and when you combine that data with EMA crossovers, you get a powerful indicator for trend continuation or reversal." — Nathan Gray, Senior Forex Analyst "The beauty of using EMAs with fundamental data like jobless claims is the ability to capture both the technical and emotional aspects of market movement." — Jessica Wong, Forex Educator Common Pitfalls and How You Can Avoid Them - Overreacting to One Data Point: One week’s jobless claims don’t mean much without context. Use EMAs to confirm if the market sentiment aligns with the data. Reacting without that confirmation is like buying shoes just because they're on sale—you need to make sure they fit first. - Ignoring Market Sentiment: The market isn’t always logical. Just because jobless claims improve doesn’t mean the market will rally. If the EMA isn’t supporting what the data suggests, proceed with caution. - Relying Only on a Single EMA: EMAs are powerful, but pairing a short-term EMA with a long-term one gives you more context. It’s like using binoculars versus a telescope—sometimes you need to see the big picture as well as the details. Get Involved and Take Your Trading to the Next Level - Forex Education: Want to understand more about using EMAs and jobless claims data for trading success? Our StarseedFX Forex Courses can take you deeper into these concepts. - Stay Informed: Keep up with the latest jobless claims and how they impact market sentiment. Get real-time updates at StarseedFX Forex News. - Join the Community: Connect with like-minded traders at StarseedFX Community where pros share insights and strategies every day. At the end of the day, trading is all about connecting the dots. Jobless claims might seem dull on the surface, but when paired with EMAs, they offer you a unique perspective on market dynamics. It’s about combining the fundamentals with technical insights and making moves that others are too distracted to see. Next time you look at jobless claims, remember—those numbers are telling a story, and the EMA is there to help you understand how the market feels about it. How do you use jobless claims in your trading strategy? Drop your insights in the comments below—I’d love to hear how you connect the dots. —————– Image Credits: Cover image at the top is AI-generated Read the full article

[jacksalix]

[SPRING Meta] 1. What does spring cleaning mean to your character? Do they participate? 2. Do they have allergies? If they do, what happens to them and how do they react? 3. What's their favorite Spring experience? (hearing birds come back, warmer weather, ect.) 4. What's their favorite flower?

[META]

He doesn't get what people mean by Spring Cleaning, just keep your house clean all year. Don't disrespect the wood you chopped down to make it.

Being a tree man has saved him from allergies

His branches budding! You can often catch him in his unglamored form, running his fingers over the tiny buds and happy to have his leaves coming back. He also enjoys how the forest seems to come back to life, he might go days without coming home just to enjoy everything waking up and changing.

Jack likes hollyhocks

[drawlfoy]

Wonders of Ohio P.9

masterlist

requests are closed, but please read this first :)

if you want to be tagged, send an ask or message me!

pairing: draco x reader

request: nope, my original shameless self insert idea lmao

summary: american high school senior y/n y/l/n is in for the ride of her life when their exchange student is...a bit strange (but very hot). NOT a nonmagic AU, though you already knew that if you’ve read part 8 ;)

warnings: swearing, mentions of a break in, concerns about a home intruder, objectively the most fluffy scene we’ve gotten so far in this series (hehe), draco being fucking obnoxious and moody (did i mention swearing?)

a/n: ayoooooo so here’s part 9, as promised. i’ve started getting back into the hp universe more and more, so i should probably be picking up my writing soon. i’ve been feeling more myself again!! which is super awesome. i don’t think many people read this series anymore (or my author notes in general but i don’t blame yall) but i’m having a lot of fun writing it, so i’m going to keep going :)

music recs: 

puppy princess -- hot freaks

loverboy -- A-wall

linger -- the cranberries

tags tags tags: @gruffle1 @missmulti @cleopatera @hahaboop @accio-rogers @geeksareunique @eltanin-malfoy @war-sword @cams-lynn @itsivyberry @ayo-cowbelly @nerd-domland @yesnerdsblog @shizarianathania @evanstanfanatic @strawberriesonsummer @hariosborn @night-ving @straightzoinked @imintoodeeptostop @naiomimoonshard @jejegu @ophelia-enthusiast @alwaysbeanunknownfan @nearly-memories @litty-dumb @callieclearwater @malfoy-wife15 @charlenasaxen @belladaises @fiantomartell @writeandtranslate @erisdogwood @loveissupernatural @sycathorn-slush @big-galaxy-chaos

word count: 3.8k :)

Y/N couldn’t help but wonder if Draco deliberately waited until the last minute to tell her family that he was leaving so he could evade her questioning. She tried to talk to him later that evening by knocking on his door, but she was met with complete silence. 

Draco was ignoring her, and she didn’t get why. She’d promised to not tell anyone--even begged for him to trust her and essentially swore on her life--but he still wasn’t acting normal. Perhaps he didn’t want her to badger him with questions about the magical world. 

Or maybe this was an excuse to get away from her.

Y/N swallowed the second possibility and locked it away somewhere out of sight. He’d left without a single word more to her (not even a congratulations for getting into a top 20 school, that loser) and never even bothered telling her when he’d return. And maybe that was the nicest part of it--she could pretend like he was never coming back.

As attractive as that option was, she had to admit that there was a Draco-shaped hole in her passenger car seat every time she drove to school. And in the kitchen when she was studying. And everywhere else he’d once touched. 

“Why do you think he went back?” 

Y/N took a break from reviewing her Art History final exam notes to look up at Lizzy. “Maybe something happened with his dad or he wanted to spend his holidays with his family? It’s probably not that serious.”

“Speaking of his dad, I tried to look up his name and see if anything came up,” Lizzy began. Y/N felt her heart jump into her throat. “Don’t you think it’s kinda sus? I haven’t found anything for him. It’s like he’s been completely wiped off the face of the earth. Do you know anything about it?”

“Honestly, I don’t think it’s any of my business.” Draco’s franticness when she found out lingered in the back of her mind as she chose her words carefully. “I’m sure if he’s a genuine political target, they’ve just scrubbed the web clean of him, being a minor and all.”

“But don’t you think it’s funny that he’s apparently so important but there’s no evidence of him or his father ever existing?”

“Lizzy.” Her voice was firm. “It’s entirely possible that his real name is different. And either way, it’s not our story to uncover. He’s entitled to his own privacy, and if he doesn’t reveal his true identity then we need to respect that.”

“Oooookaaayyyyy, Mother,” said Lizzy. “You’re so fun. You know that, right?”

“It’s my job.”

After the close brush with Lizzy, Y/N avoided the topic of Draco with her friends like wildfire. At the back of her mind, she registered that that was probably more suspicious, but when Sylvia asked her about him during lunch, she finally spun up a story.

“I told him I liked him,” she told everyone, the words stinging her throat. “He doesn’t feel the same way. I just would feel better if we dropped it.”

Her friends reacted immediately with sympathy, telling her that it wasn’t her fault that he couldn’t see her for what she was worth. Somehow, this made her feel worse. She didn’t even need to tell him her feelings to know his thoughts--he didn’t see her as anything but a “muggle”, or whatever he called them. She never stood a chance.

Y/N spent an embarrassing amount of time wondering how things would’ve been different if she was a witch. She didn’t know anything about his world (apart from the fact that they really had a stick up their asses about people knowing of them) but she somehow craved a place in it. Would Draco feel differently towards her if she was magic? 

It was probably better if she didn’t pay too much mind to it, but she couldn’t let the thought go. Every time she shut her eyes at night, the memory of waking up next to Draco replayed in her head, over and over. She would’ve sold her soul to have gone back to that. Would things have been different if she had just...not found the letters? She was driving herself crazy digging through all her interactions with him. There’s no way she was imagining things, and judging by the surprised reactions of her friends when she told them he didn’t reciprocate feelings, she wasn’t the only one who thought something was there. If he was really so disgusted by her and her people, he wouldn’t have let her sleep in his room, in his bed no less. 

As December wore on, her mind began to be occupied by another feverish stream of thoughts. If she didn’t already feel like she was going crazy over the Draco problem, she was going completely insane over the fact that she was misplacing things like crazy and forgetting the most basic of things. It seemed like it was almost every day that she was forgetting where she put her keys (even though she could’ve sworn she’d hung them up by the door) or getting home to find the door already unlocked even though she was sure that she’d locked it behind her. It would’ve creeped her out, but she was really off kilter. It just wasn’t right having Draco away, and the sense of dread she got every time she went by her room just threw her off balance. What if she still had lingering sickness from whatever magical infliction she suffered? 

He really should’ve stuck around to watch after me. Just in case. 

Another thing was bothering her--a name she saw pop up in the pouch from when she went through his letters. It was a small portion of his collection, and she didn’t even think to examine it until after he took them back from her, but she noticed that the name “Pansy Parkinson” came up more than once as a return address. 

Her mind immediately jumped to the worst--Draco was madly in love with another girl, a magical girl, and traveled back home with the express purpose of declaring his neverending devotion for her and complaining about that rat Ohioan muggle that he had to spend his days with. 

Y/N knew it wasn’t healthy, but no matter what she did, she couldn’t quite shake it. The fact that he’d no doubt grown up around girls that would be suitable for him to date was making her physically ill with jealousy, which was probably the most embarrassing part of her feelings for him. Nevermind how much time she spent fantasizing about how soft his hair felt or how his stupidly pretty fingers would feel grazing her skin--she couldn’t even cope with the idea of him existing with other women that were honestly a better choice to him. 

That Christmas was surprisingly bleak. Being an only child always made for a quiet house during the holidays, but the expectation she held of having Draco there set her up for disappointment. Her house felt empty.

“Do you think he’s coming back?” Y/N asked her mother as they did the morning dishes together. 

“Well, I assume so. Why wouldn’t he? He was scheduled to spend the entire year with us. I think that if he’s changed his mind we would at least know by now.”

“What if he’s still deciding?”

“Why, miss him already?” Mrs. Y/L/N’s tone was teasing, but she felt her cheeks grow hot. 

“Quite the contrary. I’m just wondering if I’m about to become the pampered only child again or if I’m going to need to go back into the unglamorous life of sharing the spotlight.”

“Y/N,” her mother tutted. She’d stopped doing the dishes.

Y/N made a point to evade her knowing look. “Mom.” 

Her mother took a breath before answering. “Nothing. As a matter of fact, I did get a letter from him a few days ago. He’s scheduled to return the second week of January, right before school goes back.”

“Oh,” said Y/N. No matter how hard she tried, there’s no way her relief wasn’t visible.

“How’s that for your Christmas gift, hm?” 

“Mom!”

“Hey! Hey, it was a joke,” Mrs. Y/L/N said, throwing her hands up in a “no can do” sort of gesture. “I know that you’re good friends with him is all. Unless…”

“Mom!” Her cheeks were all shades of red.

“All I’m saying is that he seems to enjoy your company.”

“Stockholm syndrome, I’m telling you.” Her explanation of what that meant was on the tip of her tongue before she stopped herself. There was no reason to--the only person who would need that explained to them was no longer on the same continent as her. 

“Whatever you’d like to think.”

~ 

The snowstorm hit them without warning, two days after Christmas. Her parents had left for the night to attend a charity auction, but unfortunately for Y/N, by the time that they realized that their daughter would be snowed in, the roads were too dangerous to drive on. Y/N begrudgingly agreed to do all of the things they told her to--get the generator ready, make sure the fireplace was prepared, and locate all the candles in the house. 

On any normal day, she wouldn’t have been concerned in the slightest, but she’d felt uneasy in her house ever since the night of the break-in, and now that this was the first night she’d have to spend alone, her heart was pounding at the thought of having to sleep in an empty house. Especially if the power was out. Especially when whoever broke in was still on the loose. 

She locked up at dusk, making sure that every entry to her home was completely sealed shut. The generator was in the basement, all set up in the case that the lights went out. She’d located all the bottled water in her house in case the pipes froze, and she finally retired to her room to relax. 

The sense of dread that hovered around Draco’s room was gone, thankfully. The overall feeling of creepiness was just beginning to lose its jarring sting, but she’d never quite been able to shake how many things she misplaced in the beginning of the month. 

She busied herself with mundane activities--she cleaned out her closet, organized her drawers, read, changed her sheets, and finished the last of her homework--but nothing could distract her from the gnawing inside of her. The hairs on the back of her neck constantly stood up, even when she was tucked away in the corner of her room, nestled into her blankets. The tingling was akin to what she felt when she walked into that antique shop on homecoming night--the same night when Draco helped her off her feet and narrowly kept her from throwing up all over Heather.

Looking back on it, she realized that when he grabbed her wrist, he must’ve done something to quell her nausea, something magical. There was no way her carsickness could’ve been able to disappear so quickly. 

Her soliloquy was interrupted by what sounded like footsteps outside. Before she could assess the situation and decide what she was going to do, a boom sounded off in the distance and she was all of a sudden bathed in darkness.

Y/N froze.

Someone was most definitely outside her house, but thankfully she’d locked all the doors. And, thankfully, the boom told her that her fuse box hadn’t been messed with. A tree had probably just fallen on a transformer. 

But those small comforts still didn’t change the fact that she was no longer alone--and not only that, but no longer alone without power. 

Her thoughts were interrupted once again by banging on her front door. Y/N jumped, just barely managing to clap her hand over her mouth to muffle her shriek. She’d seen enough horror movies to know that alerting someone that you were home wasn’t the smartest move. She’d have to be strategic. 

Heart pounding out of her chest, she crept out of her room and down the stairs. The power outage was quite lucky, she realized, as whoever was outside couldn’t see in. The moon only cast a slight light as it reflected off of the snow, so she was going to be able to see the person outside before they would see her.

She squinted from her perch by the base of the staircase. She could make out a silhouette, a tall and lanky one. The weak moonlight reflected off a very light head of hair, and Y/N was struck with a feeling of familiarity.

No way...

Y/N stood frozen for a few seconds as she heard the person knock on the door again. A muffled version of a familiar British voice said, “Is anyone there?”

Throwing all caution to the wind and praying to any higher power that was listening to her that her suspicion was correct, she pushed down on the doorknob and swung it open.

Her heart stopped. 

“Draco? What are you--”

Before she could get another word out of her mouth, she was pulled into the tightest (and snowiest) hug of her life. One of his arms wrapped solidly around her waist, the other reaching further up to her shoulders to hold her closer. He was tall enough in comparison that he could rest his chin on the top of her head while she cautiously clasped her hands around him, breathing in the same soft pine scent that she knew so well.

When he finally let go of her, she noticed that his face was decidedly less pale than what it had been when she first opened the door. At a loss for words, Y/N just made her way behind him and shut the door to keep the storm from blowing any more snowflakes in. She noted that Draco was shaking.

“You’re okay,” he said, his voice low and quiet.

She grinned. “Yeah. Believe it or not, I’m not that scared of the dark.”

He didn’t look nearly as amused, wringing his hands out in front of him instead of meeting her eyes.

“You’re going to freeze to death if you’re gonna just stand there in soaking clothes,” she chided. “And what are you doing back half a month early? I know you must’ve missed me, but I didn’t expect you to miss me THAT much.”

He rolled his eyes, bringing Y/N the comfort that the sarcastic asshole was still in there. “We need to talk.”

“No, what you need to do is get changed into dry clothes,” she said. “Not sure if you’ve noticed, but until we get our generator working, there’s no heat...and I’m not sure if the Ministry is going to like it if I let you die on my watch.”

Even though he didn’t normally laugh at her jokes, he seemed especially solemn when she said this. It became very clear to her then that he regretted his brief display of affection.

“What are you doing, just standing here? Shoo! I don’t want to see you dripping snow all over the rug.” She waved him off until he made his way up the stairs, still eerily silent. 

Once she was sure he was actually getting dressed, she made her way to the kitchen where she started heating up the water. She’d never been more thankful for the fact that they had a gas stove instead of an electric one. 

The tea was almost finished brewing by the time that Draco was back downstairs, perched awkwardly on the couch. She’d never seen his sweater before--it was in a rich forest green with a silver crest of a snake. 

“Are you going to tell me whatever is going on? I’ve never seen you like this before,” asked Y/N as she handed him the mug that she knew to be his favorite.

He took a sip and waited a bit before responding. “I found out some things while I was away.”

“Is that it? Must’ve been something pretty interesting for you to come in here and act like I’m your long lost love or whatever.” She took careful note of how his cheeks were especially pink, but it must’ve been because of the cold.

“I shouldn’t tell you everything, but I think you should probably know the gist of things,” he began. “First of all, I figured out why I couldn’t use the Obliviation cube on you. Also, you have to consent to an Unbreakable Vow.”

“A...what? Care to elaborate? Like, at least a little? Why didn’t it work on me?”

He sighed, a sharp breath of air that left his lungs in a huff. “Because you stumbled upon a very important box that can bestow the gift of magic onto anyone. And since you did something in your dream to try and open it, it permanently took root in you. I tried to reverse it, but there’s always going to be an imprint of magic on you.”

“Sick. So I’m a witch now? Like you?”

“No.” His tone was sour. “No, you’re not. For that to work, there needs to be a ritual actually completed by someone magical. That’s why you got so sick--because you would’ve needed me to help you through your dream sequence and open up the box. So, now that you’ve essentially pushed yourself into the magical world uninvited, I can’t use anything on you that’s catered towards Muggles.”

“Rats,” said Y/N. “That’s no fun. What about the whole part about my safety? And what’s that vow thing?”

“Apparently someone really, really wants that box,” Draco told her. “It doesn’t just give muggles the gift of magic--it can also give current wizards powers that are otherwise completely unavailable to the rest of the population. In the wrong hands, they could wreak havoc on the world. And I’m almost positive they think you have it.”

“Oh…” Everything started falling into place. “So, the break in? That probably was them right? And, uh, let’s say if you feel like maybe someone has been in your house while you’ve been gone? Like, that’s something I should be worried about, right?” 

“Is that happening to you?” His face looked significantly more pale.

Y/N was tempted to tell him no--just to ease his nerves--but something in his look told her that she needed to be truthful. “Um, kind of. You know how I can be forgetful, though. It’s just little things, like sometimes I come home to find that the front door is unlocked when I’m sure I locked it, or I can’t find little things like my car keys and my phone, but it’s all easily explained.”

“I never should’ve left,” he said, tucked his knees up to his chest. “I should’ve known that that was Merlin’s Box.” He swallowed, meeting her eyes with a gaze that looked so forlorn that her heart ached. “I’m so sorry.”

“Hey, hey, all we have to do is tell them I don’t have the box, right? And then they’ll leave me alone.” 

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “I assume so, but if they didn’t find the box when they originally ransacked your room and they’re still hanging around, I don’t know what to do. That’s why I can’t obliviate you, the proper way that we use on wizards, because I can’t always be there to save you. Once I’m gone, you’re going to have to manage on your own.”

“Please, Draco,” said Y/N. “People will always talk a big game, but once I pull out my pepper spray it’s over. I can take care of myself! I didn’t need protection while you’re away.”

He smiled then, a small one that seemed more sad than anything. “You sound like me. When I was younger.”

“You probably don’t even know what pepper spray is. What’s that vow thing?”

“You have to promise that you won’t say anything that would reveal what you know about me and my world,” said Draco. “I need to find a wizard to say the incantations, but it shouldn’t be too hard. I ended up telling the Ministry what happened--I’m not going to get sent away as they have a clear record of me at least attempting to wipe your memory and they agree that you need to be able to protect yourself. Unbreakable Vows are just really intense promises. If you break it, you die.”

“Is that your way of saying you don’t really trust my word?”

He rolled his eyes. “It’s required by the Ministry. If you don’t comply, then you’re going to be completely obliviated and then you can have as much fun as you’d like trying to run from whoever that criminal is without even knowing why they’re after you. Oh, and without me.” 

“Then why are you even offering the vow? Don’t you want to go home?”

Draco took a long drink from his mug. “I still have a sentence to carry out. If I go back home, I’ll get sent to the same prison that my father is being held at right now.”

“A...sentence?” Y/N stared at him. “I know you mentioned a punishment, but a sentence?”

He remained silent and refused to meet her eyes.

“Draco, what exactly did you have to do?”

“It’s none of your business,” he snapped. The sudden switch of tone made Y/N start, but he was unwavering in his scowl. “I’d prefer to not think about it.”

“But...Draco…” Y/N cast her gaze to the ground so she didn’t have to see the no doubt furious look in his eyes when she continued to push. “How bad? Do you think that maybe whoever is after me might know that I don’t have the box anymore? And that they might be trying to seek revenge against you for whatever it was that you did instead?”

He didn’t respond.

“Think about it. That would explain why I was untouched this whole time that you were away when they were still keeping tabs on me.”

With a pronounced bonk, he set his mug down on the coffee table. “I’m going to bed.”

She managed to get one more look at his face before he spun around to head up the stairs and was shocked to see what was etched into his face--anger, yes, frustration...and also shame. Unmistakable shame.

final a/n: weeoooooooo i’m like 3 minutes early...this is a monumental moment for my blog. let me know what you guys think (if there’s still people sticking with this series fjkds;al). i am going to go back into my hole and work on some math hw (wonders of ohio y/n vibes...i have low key become her trying to roleplay as a stem girl). the plot is going to thicken and hopefully there will be more fluff soon. i honestly didn’t want to add the hug bc i do want this to be slow burn but it has come to my attention that this is now about 30k words long and i haven’t given y’all so much as an inkling that draco has feelings/anything will happen between them so i gotta give you something to hold you over fjdska;

[greenhappyseed]

BnHA 324 - Review, parallels, and comparisons

Ochako time again! Play to the crowd with your big hit sound! (See the lyrics for “Break It Down Again” by Tears for Fears; it’s 80s/90s new wave goodness.) Since The Speech is proving divisive, I’ll split it up a bit.

The good:

Screen time for Ochako! And fierce Ochako at that. Personally, the speech feels OOC to me, but then again, Ochako does that sometimes. Remember when the series mocked her “inconsistent characterization”?

Ochako’s not making decisions due to her crush. It’s pretty clear she’s acting as a hero and thinking about saving a fellow hero as part of a mission with her class.

If Izuku and Ochako are building towards a romantic relationship, then I think Izuku watching her be a strong hero is a prerequisite. Let’s be honest, Izuku only swoons for heroes.

This is the first time a hero saves someone who looks like a villain and citizens think is a villain. True, Izuku isn’t actually a villain, but if the crowd accepts him then it’s “one step” towards redeeming the actual villains.

Like last chapter, some of Ochako’s words (“he has a lot to learn”) can be read as insulting to Izuku. But it works. She called Izuku a plain-looking boy early on and has always seen his strengths and weaknesses up close (as 324 reminds us, they first met when he fell flat on his face and she caught him before he hit the ground). He’s not a perfect hero, or even a “complete” hero, but he’s worth saving all the same.

The bad:

It’s the spontaneous ramblings of a 16 year old and could never, on its own, persuade any rational adult. If the chain continues and we have more people speaking up to vouch for Izuku, and we end up going full Spartacus, then we might have something.

From a structural perspective, these chapters are broken up into tiny shards. One moment is spread over 3 (soon to be 4) chapters, interspersed with flashbacks from different characters and multiple narrators (Nezu and Ochako being the main ones, but Izuku takes over at the end of 324 and Iida has a bit too). Just figuring out who is talking — and when in the timeline they’re talking — is challenging and breaks up the flow.

It feels like every few panels is trying to hit a thematic beat and then assign that beat to a character rather than build out how each character reacts to a theme.

The pros and mentors are infantilized to a pretty extreme degree. Hawks wowed the crowd at the billboard rankings; Thirteen is a rescue hero skilled at managing disaster zones; Present Mic is a radio DJ and entertainer as well as a pro hero; and Jeany used to give speeches in Vigilantes about heroism. But in a series that has taken great pains to show the technical skill of the top adult pro heroes, it feels like they’re being nerfed to give Ochako her moment.

The …maybe?:

Ochako’s message calls back to the Top 3 press conference in Ch.306 (which she narrated). In 306, upon being challenged that he didn’t understand the pain of the average citizen, Endeavor asked if heroes showing their exhaustion and tears would fix everything. The reporter representing the “angry mob” said no, heroes need to take down every last villain. Endeavor agreed that action and a finding path forward was the right thing to do. He basically admitted heroes wear masks to hide their true feelings so they can focus on their jobs. But now in 324 (right side below), Ochako takes the opposite approach. She says she can’t reassure the crowd because she, and all the other heroes, are scared too. I can see how that helps the heroes, but not how it calms the crowd. Maybe Ochako’s speech is better read as a rallying call for others who will do the actual crowd persuasion.

Seeing 2 panels of Endeavor when Ochako talks about a hero hurting and heroES hurting is … a choice. My guess is it’s a nod to Endeavor as #1 and his failing to ever put people (including fellow heroes) at ease. When heroes are hurting and the pro hero profession is under criticism, it was, traditionally, on his shoulders to fix it as the #1. But it really shouldn’t be. If a coordinated raid of hundreds of heroes failed, then it can’t be on one man (who is himself a hero and not a strategist or administrator) to protect them all.

Ok, let’s talk about some non-speech bits!

Hell YES it’s Izuku’s hero academy and he’s earned his place there for the rest of his life just like All Might. (I suspect this means if he loses OFA at the end, Nezu will still accept him at UA). It’s a good reminder that Izuku still needs to hear that he has become a hero and he belongs with other heroes. Actions matter first and foremost, but words DO matter too.

The “smile together again” motif has been bothering me because it’s repeated by several characters. But IIRC it comes from Nighteye, and only All Might, Mirio, and Izuku think of “smiling” as such an important thing. Iida and Ochako weren’t a part of the Nighteye storyline aside from Ochako evacuating Nighteye post-injury, so it’s odd to hear them so focused on smiles. Same for Bakugo — the remedial class taught him about saving hearts but the smile thing is much more an All Might/Nighteye concern. The other mention of smiling this arc has been Endeavor and Hawks taking about AFO, who is always smiling.

Aizawa is in the hospital alone (sob!). His friends and coworkers are all off doing their duty, sacrificing a personal connection for the greater good. But…is he looking at a tablet? Like is he FaceTiming???? I want to know for real, but I’m also feeling spicy and want to see wrong answers.

The guy in the All Might shirt is fascinating. Last chapter he was dismissive of Izuku’s special power (not realizing Izuku is All Might’s handpicked successor or that Izuku’s power IS All Might’s quirk). This chapter he’s asking if the heroes expect him to be covered in filth. The irony here is that All Might very much expected Izuku to get dirty and do the unglamorous work of cleaning a beach as the “first step” to gaining entry to UA. (Oh, and Izuku was wearing an All Might T-shirt at their first beach meeting.)

(And remember, Izuku’s literal first step on the UA campus was when he fell and Ochako saved him.)

Finally, the umbrellas. Did anyone notice how the citizens started sharing their umbrellas at the end of this chapter? The guy in the All Might tshirt was offered shelter by starshirt dude. And the front line citizens who were previously pumping their umbrellas in the air and holding hands to stop Izuku are now bringing umbrellas down and using them for cover while their hands separate. Also, Mitsuki shares an umbrella with Inko. It’s like, I said I'll always be your friend, took an oath, I’mma stick it out til the end. Now it’s raining more than ever, know that we’ll still have each other. You can stand under my umbrella. Eh?

[kouros-herc]

Take a Chance on Me(rida)

Knowing You, Knowing Me Oneshot starring @heart-of-dunbroch 

Standing behind the front desk of Olympus, Hercules surveyed his kingdom for a second, with pride... before he leant back over the desk to check the computer. That damn booking system had been causing problems again, somehow. His phone buzzed - he knew that buzz, he dreaded it usually, it was the one that meant he had an email coming in. Would there ever be a pleasant spell where he didn’t have some sort of email to look at? With a sigh he flicked open the notification. “RE: The Advanced Certificate in the Teaching of Conflict Management, Personal Safety and Self Defence.” 

Ah. He’d been waiting for this one to come in, he’d half expected he wasn’t actually going to get a reply when he asked about the process and how a gym could go about supporting someone to get their certificate. 

Without even thinking about it, his eyes flicked up to the reception, where Merida was earnestly mopping up the puddle that had been created when someone spilled their energy drink on the way out. If she felt his eyes on her, she didn’t react, seeming to be in her own world. He chewed the inside of his lip. 

Official qualifications for teaching self defence were hard. All his research had thrown up difficulties - there was study, there was a 700 page workbook to wade through, even if it could all be done remotely. And then there had been the subtle warnings for him. Did he know it meant extra liability insurance would be needed for the gym? That there would have to be special paperwork to make sure that the gym couldn’t be sued if anyone took their new-found skills and turned them on someone? 

But he should be used to the raised eyebrows by now, surely? Enough people still doubted him, and the thought of them doubting Merida too seemed to stoke a fire within him. Here she was, working away diligently as always. She always got the job done, she always came through. Steadfast, a good employee. He had every reason to trust her, why should it raise eyebrows? 

Because she was an out and proud werewolf? They’d never had any official complaints, but that didn’t mean he was deaf to the occasional glances, or the whispered concerns about whether it was ‘safe’ to have someone like that working here. To Herc she’d never given him reason to doubt it. Because she’d been in trouble with the law? That didn’t make her a danger to anyone. 

Because the instructors at the staff team-building had labelled her ‘kind of intense,’ and ‘crazy competitive,’ and ��kind of snappy under pressure?’ She worked harder than almost anyone, and never really complained about it, she got on with her work and it always got done, no matter how tedious and unglamorous it happened to be. To be fair they’d had to say the same about almost the entire staff. And everyone got tense under pressure, but with a little support, a little love, what was to stop them from blooming?

After all, who didn’t deserve a second chance? 

Perhaps it was because he looked at her and he saw an echo of himself, not just in the red hair, but in the thought of who he might have been if he hadn’t come to Swynlake and found sport. An angry, lonely young man with power he could barely control? How long would it have been before he found himself in trouble with the law? Before he got involved in something stupid chasing some sort of sense of belonging, that instead he’d found here in these four walls. If he could give that to someone else, to help her get her foot on the ladder and work out who she wanted to be, how could he refuse?

After all, he’d been lucky enough to be on the receiving end of someone’s trust, and now here he was running the whole place! It was his duty to pay it forward, to make sure that his newfound responsibility was used to uplift those around him. That was the way his family had always done it - what you had, you gave back, you invested in the community and they invested in you in return, it was burned into his brain. You helped, and were helped in return. 

Or maybe it was just simply that he felt she deserved this. It might be hard work, it might be a struggle if she decided to go through with it. But deep down he knew she’d be good at it. She felt passionately, about almost everything, it seemed, but that sort of passion was what made people. She was irrepressible. Confident, buoyant in a way that somehow made him all the more in awe of her. Somewhere inside him he wanted this for her as much as she did. 

“What?” Merida was staring at him as though he’d grown an extra head, the mop in one hand.

“Hmm?” Herc’s eyes widened in horror as he realised he’d been staring while his mind drifted. “Nothing, nothing. Sorry. I’ll uh... I’ll email you later. Don’t worry.”

Maybe it was insane to take a chance on her, but he’d rather be the person that took a chance on a person he believed in than let her down.

[kiicho]

little thing for @nobuverse bc we talked about our girls having sleepovers and it made me think

 rating: G

 warnings for: uuuuh kichō being an idiot

  When her senses slowly come back to her, she’s confused by the extra warmth against her back. Emerging more and more out of slumber, she realizes the warmth is also nestled on other parts of her body. It’s so puzzling that Kichō can’t help but attempt to twist her head to peer back over her shoulder. The corner of her eye catches the rise and fall of the form behind her before going up the outline of slightly messy, dark hair. Oh, that’s right.

  Her eyes close again as she goes back to her original sleeping position, letting out a relaxed sigh. 

  She slept in Nobunaga’s room last night.

  Perhaps because she’s someone who traps her worries inside or because it’s difficult at times to adjust to the safe atmosphere of Chaldea, Kichō sometimes can’t shake off the sensation that there’s something waiting. Something that could go wrong, something she has to be alert for. Of course, she’s not so wrapped up in her anxieties that she can’t tell that she’s having an overreaction to shadows. Thinking back on it, a mortifying sense of embarrassment blooms in her chest when she recalls how she almost shuffled back and forth of the pads of her feet at Nobunaga’s door. Her hands held a tray of tea and snacks she prepared since she felt rather guilty to impose like that on her other half even if she knew it wouldn’t be a major issue.

   She groans, burying her face into the pillow, when she remembers how her voice almost stuttered when she asked if she could stay the night for a sleepover. Why is she so embarrassing ?

  At the end of it all, though, they both enjoyed the food and drinks and enjoyed each other’s company even more. Kichō lets Nobunaga do most of the talking, nodding and offering her thoughts when she feels it helps the flow of the conversation. She laughs and smiles more with Nobunaga than anyone else, and it’s enough to make her forget her earlier concerns. Well, there was a concerning moment during their talks that made her heart speed up way too fast for her own good. She was almost convinced she was going to die from choking when Nobunaga brushed back loose hair behind her ear that was annoying her while eating.

  Her hands move to try to pull up the blankets to cover her face only to remember that Nobunaga might wake up if she moves too frantically. Abandoning the plan altogether, she can tell she won’t be able to fall back asleep and opens up her eyes. She looks back at Nobunaga, ready to softly wake her up but falters while looking at her sleeping face. Very carefully, she tries to maneuver her body so she can be face-to-face with her, pausing only when she feels that her movement might wake up Nobunaga up. Now that Nobunaga’s face is up this close, Kichō relaxes again.

  Is it strange that she just wants to watch her for a little bit ? The way her face looks so peaceful and content makes Kichō also feel the same way. When they were both mortals, the people of the time considered her as one of the great beauties of the land. To Kichō, Nobunaga is also beautiful, most definitely more beautiful than anyone else in her eyes. With a soft smile on her lips, she starts to gently bring up a hand to poke the other’s cheek to playfully wake her up but freezes when she hears the door open.

  Kichō doesn’t quite know how she manages to do it. Her entire body reacts on its own, and she’s flying through trough the air, out of the bed and landing right on the floor. While in the air, she hears the distinct sound of Nobunaga falling out of the bed as well. In her panic, she’d used her arms and legs to propel herself using Nobunaga, which meant she’d practically shoved her out of the bed. And so they both fell onto the floor rather unglamorously.

  Looking up, Kichō is doubly distressed to see their Master standing in the door way, looking over the scene before her. She scrambles into a sitting position, propping her elbow up on the mattress. From the corner of her eye, she can see Nobunaga struggling to come to terms with what just happened. 

  “ Master. ” Kichō’s voice isn’t convincing enough no matter how lighthearted she tries to make it.

  “ Uh --. ” They’re starting right at each other -- Master and Servant. “ I just wanted to know if you’d like to come with me on a mission and you weren’t in your room but-- ”

  “ I’ll come ! I’ll be there ! So just -- ” 

  She makes a gesture for them to go. Right now. Save her from the embarrassment that’s getting worse by the second. It’s growing so fast it’s enough to make her hop onto her feet and push the Master out of the room, forcing the door to close without another word. A quick turn on her heels and she’s practically diving back onto the floor to take care of Nobunaga who had been the unsuspecting victim of her panic. 

  Her lips deliver apologies and soft pecks on Nobunaga’s face, ignoring any responses that said she was fine. If she had better control, then maybe this wouldn’t have happened in the first place. Kichō gives her last apology by planting a small kiss onto Nobunaga’s cheek again. 

  “ I promise I’ll come back later on so we can have another sleepover. ” 

  ... 

  “ I won’t shove you out of the bed this time also. Promise. ”

[ballsballsbowls]

Hey! Do you have any favorite sources for skincare information. Thank u :)

Firstly, you sent this while I was away for a day or so, I’m really sorry my reply’s a bit late

I have a handful of resources, but admittedly I have some huge blind spots and I’ll list them outright

- I don’t use fb, ig, and barely use youtube for anything. There’s probably some great resources on there that I’ve never encountered

- My resources are pretty limited based on my current needs - my biggest skin “issue” is sensitive skin and a bunch of ingredient allergies, including lavender extract and snail mucin. Because of that, I tend to research specific products as I find out about them rather than keeping track of new products in the pipes or new ingredients

- My area of interest is East Asian skincare, Japanese and Korean about equally, so I don’t know much about Western products at all.

The only person I really follow on tumblr for skincare stuff is @birdkoskincare - she’s got a very robust biochemical background and is in the skincare industry in Europe, and I find her info to be really easy to follow along with regardless of your background. I reblog her stuff moderately often.

I use SkinCarisma and CosDNA about equally for ingredient lookups. SkinCarisma tends to have a little more info and the layout is a little more beginner-friendly, but it’s definitely worth using both, even on the same item

Back in the day, there USED to be a pretty robust search tool for reddit, which has since been abandoned. It makes things more difficult if you’re looking for general info or everything everyone knows about, say, lactic acid. Nowadays it’s more dicey, but there’s a lot of good info if you’re patient.

Asian Beauty and Skincare Addiction are both useful in their own ways. If you’re after Western skincare, the Asian Beauty reddit won’t be much use, but you’ll still see Asian products on it. I don’t spend a ton of time on Skincare Addiction, but they sometimes have more useful/current info on, say, the newest research on topical collagen or a new UVA blocker. Both reddits have a pretty robust resource section for people just getting into skincare, which can be a huge help and was where I learned a ton of info when I was starting out.

Lab Muffin is practically obligatory if you’re discussing skincare resources. I don’t look at her stuff all the time, but she’s a nice, accredited source of info if you need something clarified. She also is active on youtube and ig.

Past that, I don’t have any resources i rely on extensively. My boyfriends will vouch that I can spend a whole afternoon trying to find about a specific sunscreen or toner from every possible angle. I’ll open practically any blog, any resource (even REALLY skeevy resources like western beauty magazines) and sort of aggregate the data from 5 different places.

The unglamorous truth is the bulk of skincare is “look at EVERY SINGLE facewash option on jolse/sephora/whatever and scan the ingredient lists and scan them again in cosdna/skincarisma and scan all the reviews I can find on the internet so you spend 6 hours choosing a facewash”

You didn’t give me any indication if you’re a total beginner or not, so I’ll throw a few basic beginner tips in in case they’re useful to you. If you’re way past this, I apologize.

- You just need to start SOMEWHERE. Face wash is a great place to start and it’s a pretty cheap investment compared to a lot of other products. I did JUST face wash (I am being completely serious) for probably 2 years before I got into anything else.  

- Nobody is going to have ALL the answers. Someone with a PhD in biochemistry can tell you how sunscreen works, but they can’t tell you which sunscreen you need to buy. A random reddit user might have share your oily skin, but they don’t share your haircare routine and their recs might STILL be useless for you. If there was a Grand Poobah of Retinol on the internet, they still might recommend a formulation with an ingredient you’re allergic to. 

- That said, it IS a lot of trial and error. KEEP NOTES about what you buy and how you react. Most of the mistakes I made in my 5ish years of being remotely serious about skincare, I made because I didn’t refer to my notes about which ingredients I can’t use or didn’t recognize the alternate way of listing a known allergen.

- You really do need to start slowly and carefully with one product at a time. It sucks when you’re excited about starting a routine but you will regret it when SOMETHING in the past 2 weeks has given you acne and you have no idea what it is.

- You can honestly spend as much or as little as you want. There’s plenty of people who have developed a super elaborate, super expensive routine. There’s plenty of people who use suncreen, face wash, moisturizer and have no interest in anything else. I’ve barely bought anything this past year, just using stuff I already had, and it’s totally fine. In fact, a slow and measured (AND CHEAP!) approach will serve you better in the long run.

- A product that generates acne on your face might work on your neck or arms. A product that’s too harsh for your face might work on your feet. You WILL strike out at some point with a product no matter how carefully you purchase stuff. Having a plan for using it up if you can will make it less terrible.

- CHECK DATES AND TIMESTAMPS on reviews and posts. Products get reformulated all the time and that product that looks perfect for you may have been reformulated twice since that post was created. That dream product may also be discontinued.

I hope this helps at least a little! If you have more specific questions, I may or may not be able to help (if you skin is oily or you’re acne prone you are SOL as it’s NOT my area of expertise)

[thefoxdenrp]

Who Am I?

Openness: 84% Your high level of openness suggests that you are imaginative, creative, and comfortable with variety and change. But you can also tend towards individualistic behavior and impractical thinking.

Conscientiousness: 0% You like to act immediately on impulse, which can be both effective and fun. But if taken to the extreme this can produce undesirable long term consequences for yourself and others.

Extraversion: 88% Your high level of extraversion suggests that you experience positive emotions from social situations and activities, so are likely to seek them out and thrive in them.

Agreeableness: 93% You value getting along with others, so are considerate, friendly, and willing to compromise your interests for the benefit of the group around you. As a result you tend to be very popular.

Neuroticism: 97% You are emotionally reactive and prone to react intensely to events with feelings that linger for some time. This can affect your ability to think clearly or cope with change and stress.

OUTLOOK: Emotional Emotional people tend to embrace their positive and negative emotions fully, which means they have lives full of excitement. But it’s all too easy to switch between happy and sad very quickly, and it’s important that the highs and lows balance each other. There may be times when you would benefit from stepping back from a situation to protect yourself from getting too carried away.

CHARACTER: Thoughtful Thoughtful people have a very giving and sympathetic character and are genuinely interested in and concerned about others. However, they can sometimes lack the persistence to follow through with their positive intentions. Luckily, you’re very adept at inspiring good feelings and actions in others who can help carry you along too.

SELF-CONTROL: Reserved You may feel a bit conflicted when you’ve been wronged. On the one hand it can affect you deeply to the point of feeling victimized, but on the other you can be scared of saying something about it for fear of upsetting other people. The result is that your anger might be directed inwards, which is very unhealthy. You can’t always be the nice guy.

COMPOSURE: Direct Direct people can find it hard to resist their urges and impulses. In fact, when they really want something it’s hard for them to keep their desire in check. If you find it all too easy to sacrifice your long-term goals for instant gratification, or wake up with a major headache the next morning, this might be an aspect of your life that would benefit from a bit more concentration.

TASTE: Pioneer You’re interested in the new and different. Whatever it is, if you haven’t experienced it before, you’ll want to give it a try. People who share this characteristic also enjoy meeting people from different backgrounds, so thrive in big communal activities where they can learn about new places and perspectives.

SOCIABILITY: Leader People with this characteristic are likely to enjoy social situations where they can really shine - where they can be in charge and give instructions rather than take them. They tend to be natural decision makers. If you recognize this trait in yourself, remember to think about how other people might perceive your forthright approach.

ACTION: Spontaneous Spontaneous people tend to be pretty full of energy and love the thrill of new adventures. But that energy isn’t always completely constructive. Your spontaneity and impulsiveness might mean that it’s sometimes all too easy to drop those serious, unglamorous tasks for the promise of a good time.

ATTITUDE: Progressive People with progressive attitudes tend to have a great deal of faith in human nature and believe in education, co-operation and free thinking as ways to help develop society. They are willing to try new ideas and solutions and take a thoughtful approach to issues like social problems. It sounds like you tend to be seen as the voice of reason in most situations.

PROCESS: Dreamer Dreamers get very excited by the prospect of new ideas and ways of seeing the world, but they tend to lose their way in theoretical possibilities and flights of fancy. If this sounds like you, you might be seen as a fantastic starter but not so great finisher. But, no one can fault your enthusiasm and ability to thrive in the uncertainty of the new. Force yourself to be a bit more organized and you’ll blow people away.

RESILIENCE: Sensitive Sensitive people are extremely aware of potential dangers and problems around them - perhaps a little too aware sometimes. In fact, they tend to purposefully imagine worst-case scenarios. If you recognize this trait in yourself, rather than let yourself be overcome by fear use these theoretical situations to stimulate yourself to come up with imaginative solutions.

[hecohansen31]

Hello love!!! I need to request a part two to the downtown abbey Aethelred!! With the prompts “ why do you walk around as if you’re somehow less valuable than the rest of the world? ” and “ don’t you realize you deserve more than this? ” if you want to 😊 Thank you so so much, I am utterly in love with part one! 💕 I hope you have fun writing!! 🥰

WARNINGS: Mention of Class Differences, Prejudices, Bad Friends, Slight Mention of Smut (and slight Exhbitionism!).

An entire year had passed since you had married lord Aethelred, becoming an official lady, after you had served as a maid over at Downtown Abbey.

The road to arrive to your marriage hadn’t been smooth in the slightest.

At first Judith had threatened to disinherit her older son, backed up by Ecberth, who was unhappy of the unlucky match his grandchild had made, but Aethelwulf had been on yours and his son’s side, fighting dirty for the opposing part to come to a deal, which would diminish Aethelred’s title and fortune, but would allow him to make you marry him and not abandon his family.

When you had discovered the deal you had tried to run away, not wanting to be the weight that held Aethelred down from his own dreams and goals, but the man, himself, had held you in his arms till you stopped ranting, telling you that every dream he had was now shared with you.

He couldn’t look at the future without seeing you in it, beside him.

And although Judith and Ecberth had been completely opposing to you, Aethelwful had been quite accepting, more than happy to sponsor your wedding, and your beloved lady Sybil had brought you, as a surprise, your wedding dress, simple but effective.

And it had for sure stolen Aethelred’s breath away when you had walked in.

Now a year later, after three months spent getting away from Aethelred’s annoying family and only enjoying your wifely duties on your lovely honeymoon.

And you were the happiest of the brides, enjoying your husband’s affections and the newlyweds’ life.

But when you went back home…

… that was a completely different question.

Although some people had been quite supporting of your relationship with Aethelred, his friends weren’t, in the slightest.

They didn’t voice their ‘concerns’ at Aethelred, but they for sure had a lot of mean glares sent your way, as they laughed lightly at every misstep you did, such as maybe being gentler than they were to the maids and butlers of the house or wearing a dress two times in the row, without worrying about how unglamorous it would have been.

You had tried your best to change some of your ways, even talking with Sybil and her sisters, when they came to visit, because although Mary could be quite harsh, they were the most honest people you had ever invited in your new house.

You had done everything in order to be more accepted, although you just couldn’t change some part of your personality, but Aethelred’s friends could still be quite mean, enough that you had stopped hanging with him in the nights in which he’d either go out to dinner with them or they’d come at your house, finding an excuse in either visit his brother Alfred or Downtown.

Aethelred had soon noticed your uneasiness, blaming at first on the years of trying to pass unnoticed, but slowly it had started becoming a rather troublesome problematic, mostly because he enjoyed spending time together.

But everytime he proposed any fun outside activities, you’d come up with an excuse.

He almost felt like you spent more time with brother than with him.

And it was truly driving him crazy.

That night he had been able to push you to join him at the theatre since you were extremely looking forward to the play they’d be having, and Aethelred had been complimenting you for your outfit the entire time you had spent on the ride to the theater, certainly pushing you in a good mood.

And the play was as beautiful as you had heard, unlike Aethelred’s friend, who spent the entire break commenting on the awfulness of the actors and how silly the entire plot was.

Their loud laughs and harshness made you, for once, react to them, as you commented on how you were actually enjoying the play and would like to stay for also the second part, as Aethelred backed you up.

‘… we shouldn’t have expected any less’ commented a woman of Aethelred’s friend group, Kathryne, a redhead beauty who was old money and had married as such ‘… what else would be expected by somebody with such low taste’.

And she had sent a quick look at the dress that you had made for yourself, certainly not as glamorous as hers, but pretty and something in which you felt comfortable.

You immediately lowered your head, your hold on Aethelred’s hand loosening, as you felt him going stiff against you, glaring at Kathryne and asking for an apology on your behalf, which didn’t seem in the slightest heartfelt, but you accepted it, hoping to move on with your night.

But Aethelred’s friends didn’t allow that.

‘But Kathryne is right…’ commented another friend, Reginald, a lord with not enough money but an ego that made up for his lack of richness ‘… the show is boring, so we could just hop onto the club or casino’.

And all the Aethelred’s friends’ voices came onto you, overwhelming enough that you moved away, returning to your reserved booth, expecting Aethelred to come back only to explain that he’d join his friends, but as he did come back, he sat down with an angry scowl on his face.

“… are you not going to join them?” you replied shyly, as Aethelred’s hands reached out for you “… I can take a taxi back to our house or you can come here when the piece is finished, you don’t have to stay here, if you don’t want to…”.

“No no” he shook his head, suddenly relaxing a bit as he came to face you with a softer smile “… I wouldn’t go anywhere with those people, and I’ll make sure not to see them anymore, after tonight”.

“… but they are your friends!” you tried to protest, knowing that although you found no fun with them, because of their constant shaming that made you feel like you weren’t enough for Aethelred, your husband still enjoyed their presence.

“They aren’t” he commented tightly, hissing through his teeth, as if it was a closed discourse “… they insulted you! I should have noticed earlier, but I thought they’d just… warm up to you…”.

“I am not worth you breaking up with them” you whispered, feeling a bit guilty of Aethelred’s actions, since they had been spurred on by you, a simple maid, elevated to the rank of lady, but your manners and tastes would have been the one of a lower class, no matter what.

And you hadn’t noticed you had lowered your head, till Aethelred softly pushed it up, to make you meet his eyes, shining with an intense feeling that was a mixture of rage and love, making you blush lightly.

“Don’t you realize you deserve more than this?” he replied “… don’t you think that I want to give you everything that could made you happy, no matter the price tag or the friends that I’ll lose”.

You blushed, breathing softly as you grabbed softly onto Aethelred’s hands, letting the physical gesture express your gratefulness for your husband’s gentleness, although it was truly too hard for you to feel worthy of him.

“… don’t you understand that I don’t find your previous life humiliating or insulting? It is something that made me feel in love with you, because you might have been a maid but that doesn’t make you any less than the ladies I have known! It made you much more!”.

But this was one step forward, and Aethelred mindful of the darkness around you, as the play started again, brought your lips to his, making you blush, as for a few minutes your feeling of uneasiness stopped, comforted by the softness of Aethelred’s lips.

“Why do you walk around as if you’re somehow less valuable than the rest of the world?” he breathed onto your lips, as they lowered onto your precious slender neck, making you gasp out at the bold gesture “… because believe me you are the most valuable person I have in my life”.

Now his lips lowered themselves on the cleavage of your conservative dress, although soon Aethelred’s hands found that it was easy to push it up your hips to expose you in a dangerous game that took your mind away from the awful night.

“… and your smile is the best treasure I have ever received in all my journeys”.

---

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Vikings Taglist:

@flowers-in-your-hayr

[daphneryu]

VESTATASK #006 ! WHO AM I?

THE ALCHEMIST ! A SPONTANEOUS DREAMER you make out-of-the-ordinary decisions, quick as a flash.

OPENNESS - 88%

your high level of openness suggests that you are imaginative, creative, and comfortable with variety and change. but you can also tend towards individualistic behavior and impractical thinking. 

CONSCIENTIOUSNESS - 0%

you like to act immediately on impulse, which can be both effective and fun. but if taken to the extreme this can produce undesirable long term consequences for yourself and others.

EXTRAVERSION - 84%

your high level of extraversion suggests that you experience positive emotions from social situations and activities, so are likely to seek them out and thrive in them.

AGREEABLENESS - 66%

you value getting along with others, so are considerate, friendly, and willing to compromise your interests for the benefit of the group around you. as a result you tend to be very popular.

NEUROTICISM - 76%

you are emotionally reactive and prone to react intensely to events with feelings that linger for some time. this can affect your ability to think clearly or cope with change and stress.

OUTLOOK - EMOTIONAL emotional people tend to embrace their positive and negative emotions fully, which means they have lives full of excitement. but it's all too easy to switch between happy and sad very quickly, and it's important that the highs and lows balance each other. there may be times when you would benefit from stepping back from a situation to protect yourself from getting too carried away. 

CHARACTER - THOUGHTFUL thoughtful people have a very giving and sympathetic character and are genuinely interested in and concerned about others. however, they can sometimes lack the persistence to follow through with their positive intentions. luckily, you're very adept at inspiring good feelings and actions in others who can help carry you along too. 

SELF CONTROL - RESERVED you may feel a bit conflicted when you've been wronged. on the one hand it can affect you deeply to the point of feeling victimized, but on the other you can be scared of saying something about it for fear of upsetting other people. the result is that your anger might be directed inwards, which is very unhealthy. you can't always be the nice guy. 

COMPOSURE - DIRECT direct people can find it hard to resist their urges and impulses. in fact, when they really want something it's hard for them to keep their desire in check. if you find it all too easy to sacrifice your long-term goals for instant gratification, or wake up with a major headache the next morning, this might be an aspect of your life that would benefit from a bit more concentration. 

TASTE - PIONEER you're interested in the new and different. whatever it is, if you haven't experienced it before, you'll want to give it a try. people who share this characteristic also enjoy meeting people from different backgrounds, so thrive in big communal activities where they can learn about new places and perspectives. 

SOCIABILITY - LEADER people with this characteristic are likely to enjoy social situations where they can really shine - where they can be in charge and give instructions rather than take them. they tend to be natural decision makers. if you recognise this trait in yourself, remember to think about how other people might perceive your forthright approach. 

ACTION - SPONTANEOUS spontaneous people tend to be pretty full of energy and love the thrill of new adventures. but that energy isn't always completely constructive. your spontaneity and impulsiveness might mean that it's sometimes all too easy to drop those serious, unglamorous tasks for the promise of a good time. 

ATTITUDE - PROGRESSIVE people with progressive attitudes tend to have a great deal of faith in human nature and believe in education, co-operation and free thinking as ways to help develop society. they are willing to try new ideas and solutions and take a thoughtful approach to issues like social problems. it sounds like you tend to be seen as the voice of reason in most situations. 

PROCESS - DREAMER dreamers get very excited by the prospect of new ideas and ways of seeing the world, but they tend to lose their way in theoretical possibilities and flights of fancy. if this sounds like you, you might be seen as a fantastic starter but not so great finisher. but, no one can fault your enthusiasm and ability to thrive in the uncertainty of the new. force yourself to be a bit more organised and you'll blow people away. 

RESILIENCE - SENSITIVE sensitive people are extremely aware of potential dangers and problems around them - perhaps a little too aware sometimes. in fact, they tend to purposefully imagine worst-case scenarios. if you recognise this trait in yourself, rather than let yourself be overcome by fear use these theoretical situations to stimulate yourself to come up with imaginative solutions. 

[evakuality]

Hi! Can you write something for 66 please?

For you, anon, it’s chapter two of the fic that grew out of several prompts! (If anyone else wants to send more, the list can be found over here, and chapter one is available on tumblr here and Ao3 right here).  This chapter is also available on Ao3.

Rings, Riddles and Revenge.  Chapter Two: “How could I ever forget about you?”David

The genteel tinkle of the store’s bell as the door opens is the only alert David has.  Since this is such a regular occurrence, usually he barely gives it another thought.  Lets the customers approach the counter and start the process of falling in love with their wares before he even acknowledges that the bell had rung.  So why it’s different this time, David has no idea.  But he does look up, for once.  And he does see the breathtaking Engagement Ring Man again.  And it does stop him in his tracks briefly, his practiced patter stuttering to a halt for a moment before he recollects himself and focuses back in on the customer in front of him.

That doesn’t stop him from glancing out of the corner of his eyes at Engagement Ring Man as he makes his way into the store.  Because he may not have been consciously waiting for the guy to return, but now that’s he’s here David’s body relaxes in a way that lets him know exactly how much attention his subconscious mind has been paying to that one chance meeting not even a week ago.

His last customer smiles and thanks him, moving away from the counter and making her way towards the door.  David turns his attention to Engagement Ring Man, drags his usual smile onto his face, sets his posture to his best customer service mask and hopes like hell the guy can’t tell what effect he’s having on David.  It’s not made any easier when he looks up, catches David’s eyes on him and his entire body slumps, losing its obvious tension, and his face lights up in what can only be described as relief.  

And that, David thinks, as he watches Engagement Ring Man approach the counter, is enough to make a weaker man than him turn into a puddle.  So it’s not exactly a surprise that his own body reacts with a hot flush, or that his voice is slightly breathless when he manages his usual, “good afternoon, sir.  How can I help you?”

Engagement Ring Man’s face falls a little, the smile slipping sideways before brightening again into something that is a good approximation of a retail smile.  David would probably mistake it as genuine if he wasn’t so practiced at spotting it on other workers.

“I’m … um, I guess you don’t remember,” the guy starts, running his fingers through his hair the same way he did last week and leaving it an artful mess over his eyes again, stilling David’s heart with that one casual motion.  “I was in here with a ring on Wednesday…”

He pauses, as if he’s not quite sure how to phrase it, which makes sense.  It was a fake and I was sad about that, is probably not an easy thing to confess to someone else in this situation, particularly when you might be embarrassed by that fact.  Still fascinated by what the guy might need to do with the ring, David takes pity on him, cutting in with another practised phrase.

“Of course I remember, sir.  The ring was old and probably quite valuable.”

A grin breaks out over Engagement Ring Man’s face and he shuffles, looks up at David from under his mess of hair.  It stills some awkwardly flustered thing in David’s chest and he takes a risk, knowing he’s not supposed to do this but needing to make it clear he remembers more than just a customer in distress.

He adds, “how could I ever forget about you?”

The grin this time is blinding, and the guy flushes, a bright crimson staining his cheeks as if he’s not used to people noticing him, as if the mere mention that David might have remembered him and not just his query is something foreign.  The guy coughs, looks away for a moment, clearly gathers himself together with a muttered encouragement under his breath, and then he lets that breath out slowly and carefully.  It’s only then that he glances back at David.

“I was wondering if you maybe knew somewhere I could get it properly valued as a fake,” he asks quietly, glancing around to be sure the other people in the store don’t hear him.  “It’s just, we need some money and even that much might be enough.  But …”

David nods.  He understands, even if that ‘we’ tears at his chest.  Of course this guy has a ‘we’ of some sort.  He shakes himself out of his disappointment.  It’s not something most people would have easy access to, after all, a knowledge of antique buyers and sellers who might give a fair deal on something like that ring.  

“My … uh, my mother and I.  She needs some money,” Engagement Ring Man says, softly, as if he has seen and understood David’s sting of disappointment at his words.  Smiling, David lets his breath out, relieved.  He tries to tell himself that it’s just because the guy came back and David can actually help him this time.  But he knows it’s at least partly because the blue of Engagement Ring Man eyes have haunted him, and the way the hair falls into his eyes has whispered in his heart even without him consciously knowing, and he wants to spend more time with this guy.  Hearing that the ‘we’ in his life is a mother is more of a relief than it has any right to be.

“Of course,” David says warmly.  Far more warmly than he strictly should.  This doesn’t fit the persona of the store at all, the aloof, slightly distanced glamor the owners try desperately to maintain.  “If you’d like to come down to this end of the counter, I can get some contact details for you.”

It’s not really necessary for David to move him like this; he could go find the details by himself, but he wants at least the illusion of privacy as he talks to the guy and this seems like too good an opportunity to ignore.

Matteo

It had taken a lot for Matteo to come in here today.  He knew he was only going to be able to make the request if Piercing Guy was there; he was the one who had made the suggestion after all, so he’s the one who’s most likely to know how to help.  And it’s probably not going to do any good, but Matteo is willing to try anything at this stage. If that happens to mean he might bump into Piercing Guy again and get to see his stupidly attractive face again, well that’s just what you might call a perk of the somewhat uncomfortable process.

He’s here, Piercing Guy is here, and Matteo instantly feels the relief of knowing he can ask what he needs to ask.  For a terrible moment, though, it seemed like he hadn’t remembered Matteo at all, but then his face had softened and he smiled as he said, “how could I ever forget about you?” in the gentlest voice Matteo has ever heard.  And Matteo almost can’t get the words of his request out because he’s so flustered.  It’s not like him to be so unnerved by someone, even when that someone is the cutest guy Matteo has ever had the pleasure of laying eyes on, with his curly dark hair and liquid eyes.  And the piercing that had starred in more than one of Matteo’s day dreams since they last met.

Then he’s drawn away to the far end of the counter, and the guy is shuffling around on the ground behind it, sifting through a pile of papers that looks far too messy and haphazard to belong in a place like this.  Feeling bold, leaning over the counter so he can keep an eye on what’s happening, Matteo laughs.  

“That doesn’t look smart enough for a store like this,” he says, nodding at the pile of papers the guy has just shoved to one side.  From his spot kneeling on the floor, the guy looks up at Matteo and rolls his eyes.

“There’s never any time to keep tidy piles,” he says, pulling another clump of papers out and riffling through this one at speed.  He grins up at Matteo again.  “And we only need to look glamorous and flashy out there in the bits the customers get to see.”

“I’m seeing the unglamorous stuff right now,” Matteo points out, knowing there’s a cheeky grin on his face.  Sees the way the guy’s eyes light up in amusement as he looks up at Matteo.

“You’re being nosy and intrusive is what you’re doing,” he says, making a cold shame flood Matteo’s body.  Did he go too far?  But then the guy winks as he refocuses on the papers in his hands, and Matteo relaxes.  It’s just banter, then.  Silly comebacks to a ridiculous conversation.

Matteo is fascinated by his hands as they shuffle through the pages one by one.  Sure and sturdy, they move with a grace and an elegance even while their owner curses softly under his breath when he doesn’t find what he wants.

“Shit,” Piercing Guy mutters so quietly that Matteo doesn’t think he was supposed to hear.  He stands up so quickly that Matteo doesn’t have time to move back before he’s right in front of him and with the way Matteo’s been leaning forward, their faces are close.  He can see every strand of Piercing Guy’s eyelashes, thick and lush with the color a mixture of browns mingling together like strokes on a masterpiece of art.  

The guy blinks in startled awareness of their proximity, something flashes in his eyes, and Matteo has to suck in a steadying breath as he pushes back off from the counter.  He’s flushing, can feel the heat in his cheeks and the pounding of his heart.  The guy’s eyes had bored into Matteo’s, framed by those perfect lashes, and Matteo isn’t sure he’ll ever be steady on his feet again.

The guy’s facade has slipped completely now; there’s no remnant of the perfect customer service employee in his face or his body anymore, and he looks genuinely upset when he speaks again.  His hand ruffles his hair, pulling the strands into a disarray that sets something else new and terrifyingly electric into Matteo’s heart.

“I can’t find the contact details,” he says.  “But … maybe I can get your number?”

Matteo gapes at him.  Blinks.  Opens his mouth to say something, to ask why on earth this sudden request of an almost-total stranger, when the guys blushes himself.  His cheeks bloom rosy with shame when he obviously realizes what he’s implied.  “Oh.  Um.  You know … for … for when I do find them.  The details.  To send you the contacts.”

“Oh.  Right.  Yes,” Matteo mumbles, kicking himself for assuming.  Remembering that they’re in a store and that the employee of the store, however attractive, isn’t going to be going around asking for random guys’ phone numbers for no real reason.

He jots the number down on a piece of paper Piercing Guy hands him, noting in passing that it’s not at all like the creamy, formal, expensive piece from last week.  This one looks like it’s been torn from a notebook.  He thinks about saying something, making a joke out of it, but he’s spooked.  The banter earlier was a bit too easy to fall into, the proximity as the guy had stood up too electrifying, and Matteo has to keep his distance.  Falling for some guy in a shop just because he’s good at his job is exactly the sort of dumbass thing Matteo would do, but it’s also exactly the sort of dumbass thing he’s trying hard to avoid.

He pushes the paper back across the counter towards Piercing Guy, who looks down at it and smiles.  “Matteo,” he mutters almost under his breath, then looks up and holds his hand out.  “I’m David.”

Startled, Matteo takes the hand that’s being offered.  It’s warm, smooth.  The grip is firm and capable and Matteo tries hard not to let the guy see how much he’s affected just by this brief touch.  The guy clears his throat and Matteo drops his hand quickly, realizing that he’s held on a little too long.  The brown eyes when he looks back into them are once again filled with amusement.

“David.  Hi.  I’m Matteo.”

“I know,” David says, smirking at him, and Matteo can feel the heat in his cheeks increasing even more.  

Another customer moves in beside Matteo, and Piercing Guy … David, nods, his customer service face falling swiftly back into place and leaving behind it no hint of the ease he’s had in the last few minutes.

“I’ll message you when I have the details you need, sir,” he says.  Matteo nods in his own turns and makes his way back out of the store.  He’s not entirely sure what just happened, but he is sure he’s treading a dangerous path and that he should avoid returning at all costs.  

But that doesn’t mean he’s not looking forward to receiving a text.

Continue to chapter three

[blueboxesandtrafficcones]

The Nuptial Necessity - Chapter 2

A 12xRose Human AU

Despite an unglamorous job description, Rose loves the work she does with The Thistle Foundation, a charity founded by her best friend’s great-uncle.  It doesn’t hurt that her boss, her friend’s father, is easy on the eyes.  With a great job, wonderful friends and a loving family, life couldn’t be better – except for having someone to share it with.

All of that is threatened, though, when the great-uncle dies – and sets a strange condition for his nephew to inherit, jeopardizing the Foundation and Rose’s future, sparking a chain of events that might just get her everything she dreamed of and more.

Chapters will be posted on Saturdays and Tuesdays.  Many thanks to my beta, @stupidsatsuma

Rated: Explicit, for eventual smut

@doctorroseprompts

AO3  |  Masterlist

—

Thursday, continued

All in all, Malcolm thought he put on a decent show at dinner.  Determined not to let his daughter know something was on his mind, he poured all of his attention onto her with a single-minded focus.

Not that his interest was for show- he adored his (not so) little girl and found her utterly fascinating, was always curious about the goings-on in her life, but rarely did listening to her stories require so much effort.

But the important part, he congratulated himself as he pulled ice cream cartons from the freezer, is she doesn’t suspect a thing.

“So, what’s wrong?”

He froze, still facing the freezer shelves, and sighed.  Spoke too soon.  Smoothing his expression back to neutral he shut the door, resuming his assembly of sundae ingredients.  “Nothing.  What d’ya mean?”

“Dad.  You’ve been weird all night.  What is it?”  Clara was seated at the island, eating the caramel topping with a spoon, watching him intently.

She looked no different from when she was a wee bairn or teenager, perched there, seeing far more than he ever wanted her to.  That girl is too damn clever, his ex-wife had always complained, and though he privately agreed would never admit that, usually pleased by her cleverness – except for when it was used to ferret out things he wasn’t ready for her to know.  At least she comes by it honestly.

“It’s… Uncle Wallace’s will was read today,” he started tentatively, waiting for her to nod, gauging her reaction.  “It was as I expected… mostly. He has some conditions for me to inherit, and I have to decide… if I’m going to comply.”

“You?  Comply?”  The teasing tone from the doorway made his head snap up, and sure enough, Rose stood there with her hands on her hips, several cardboard boxes at her feet.  “I’d pay to see that.”

Malcolm’s heart restarted itself at double-time, having stopped at her voice, and he was nearly weak with relief that she hadn’t accidentally overheard exactly what those conditions were.  That was too close.

Shaking his head he turned his back to buy himself some time.  Any chance of getting away with not telling was gone, now that the two people on Earth who knew him best were in the same room.  They were individually relentless when it came to getting what they wanted from him, and their tag-team act was unstoppable.  Pulling down a third sundae bowl for Rose, he waited as the girls squealed and hugged, talking a thousand miles an hour as if they hadn’t seen each other in months, rather than ten days.

Watching with a fond smile, he thought back to the first time his daughter had come home for the weekend from uni, dragging her shy new roommate behind her.

“Dad!  This is Rose, my roommate.  She’s my new best friend. Can she stay for sundaes?  And possibly forever?”

They’d both been scraps of nothing then, adults only in the legal sense.  Now they were both thirty, mature women who worked for a living and travelled the world, and he mourned the girls they’d been even as he celebrated their accomplishments and growth.

Knowing from experience that once they started they wouldn’t stop, and tempted to let them forget the conversation, he took his time building his own sundae first, before sighing and giving in.  “Right, who wants what?”

“Chocolate fudge ripple,” Rose immediately said, settling on one of the barstools on that side of the counter, licking her lips as she stared at one of the cartons.  “And be generous with the scoops.  I’ve been thinking about this all fucking day.”

Malcolm shook his head, obeying as Clara studied her options.  Ever the deliberate one, she could turn choosing a flavor into an art form.  “Just because we’re not in the office, doesn’t mean I’m not still your boss, Miss Tyler.  Don’t get too comfortable.”

“I’m off the clock, hanging out with my bestie,” she shrugged, pulling the dish closer towards the toppings and piling on the chocolate sauce, whipped cream, sprinkles and cherries.  “Besides, the very first time I was here you told me to make myself at home.  I got you Neapolitan, Clar, just have some of that, would you?”

Not waiting for his daughter to hem and haw Malcolm scooped her just that, pushing the bowl towards her.  Moving his own front and center, he stared at it for a moment before adding another few squirts of chocolate sauce to the mint chocolate chip tower of ice cream.

“No vanilla today?”  His assistant didn’t miss a thing, eagle eyes noting his choices even as she devoured her own.  “Decided to live it up?”

“Thought I’d test the limits,” he shot back, “dare to put myself out there.”

She just smirked, licking at the back of her spoon, and he had to tear his eyes away to focus on his daughter again, who was still staring at the various containers, dish untouched.

“You good with that?”

Sighing, Clara nodded, adding her own toppings.  “Yeah, this’ll do.” That didn’t stop her from gazing at the rum raisin with a longing usually seen on sailors’ wives as he put the ice cream away before it melted.

“So, the inheritance?” she prompted, the freezer door shutting breaking her from her spell, and he had to hide a smile at how little she had changed from when she was knee-high to a grasshopper.  Not that she’s that much taller.  She had her mother to thank for that, and it amused him that even now at thirty, she barely came up to his chin in her bare feet.

I’m getting old.

“I don’t want to talk about it now,” Malcolm hedged, eyes flickering over at Rose, who paused.

Tilting her head, she frowned.  “Is this about me?  My being in it, I mean?”

“What?”  The ground shifted beneath his feet, eyes opening wide.  “What do you mean- you know?”

“Well I don’t know details!” she protested, looking up at him.  “But, yeah, I know I’m in it.”

She doesn’t seem mad.  Does she not actually know?  “What, precisely, do you know?” he asked suspiciously.  He’d known her for eight years, and would never guess she might know something like this existed and be okay with it.  What did he tell you?

She hesitated, expression faltering as she glanced at Clara, who shrugged.  “The last time I was there, a few months ago, he mentioned putting me in the will,” she said slowly.  “That he thought I was a nice girl, and he wanted to take care of me.  I protested- it’s not like I need or want his money- but he insisted.  Said it was something he knew I’d had my eye on, wanted to make sure I got it, but he never said specifically.  To be honest, I have been wondering.  I’ve always loved that Renoir, on the staircase – any chance it was that?”

Malcolm snorted.  “In a manner of speaking.”

Both women stared at him with identical arched eyebrows, and he sighed.  His intention had been to tell Clara then take a few days to ponder, but realistically, the likelihood that she would keep something like this a secret from her best friend was flimsy at best.  “First, let me say I knew none of this until Robertson called this afternoon.”

“Is that why you were upset, and needed to talk to Alex?” Rose asked delicately, and he nodded.

“You could say that.”

“Dad,” Clara warned, ”you’re being weird again.”

“I thought I was always weird?”

Identical glares made his jaw snap shut, and he glanced between their faces.  This is humiliating.  Now would be a perfect time for an earthquake, or heart attack, or some other natural disaster to prevent this conversation.  He stared up at the ceiling hopefully, but no relief came.

“Dad!”

“Fuck,” he groaned, rubbing at his face.  “Right, here it is.  Rose, Wallace left everything to me on the condition that- that-”  He met her eye, saw the trust there, and slumped. “On the condition that we got married.”

Silence rang out in the kitchen as they stood there, staring at each other, and he watched the expressions fly across her face closely.  Surprise, of course, confusion, curiosity- happiness?  That can’t be right.

“Is that legal?” she finally asked, tone carefully neutral, and for the moment they both ignored Clara’s spluttering.  Rose met his gaze head on, that spark of mischief and adventure hiding just below the surface, and his heart clenched.

“Apparently.  You didn’t know?”

She shook her head slowly, the shock fading from her face.  “I thought he might leave me a trinket or something- the most I hoped for was that Renoir.  I mean-”  Rose swallowed, and he felt slightly better that she hadn’t run away screaming.

Yet.

“What, exactly, would it take to… to satisfy the terms?”  She flushed, and after a moment he did too, not trusting himself to speak given where his mind had gone.  “I mean- you know what I mean.  And what if… you don’t?”

“If I don’t,” he said carefully, leaning on the countertop towards her, “everything goes to the government.  As for the actual terms, it was fairly simple, basically.  Legally- well.  Stay that way for five years.”  He winced automatically, but she didn’t react other than to blink.

“When would all this have to happen?”

Malcolm paused, assessing her.  She’s too calm.  “Technically, in the next thirty days.”

Rose nodded slowly, before exhaling.  “Right.”  Standing up, she slid her purse strap over her shoulder.  “Um, I’m going home.  The samples are there.  I will see you tomorrow and you,” she glanced at a wide-eyed Clara, “Saturday.”

“Uh huh!”

And then she was gone, leaving Malcolm alone with his daughter and three half-melted ice cream sundaes.

Just when he was starting to worry Clara moved, turning to face him and still looking stunned.  “Okay, what the fuck?  Start at the beginning, leave nothing out!”

-

Rose startled awake, disorientated as she blinked and looked around, trying to remember what had happened.  Why am I on the couch?  The noise coming from the hallway outside her flat coalesced, and she turned her head to stare blankly in that direction.  Who’s knocking at midnight?

Yawning, she struggled upright, straightening her clothes and hair as she shuffled towards the door.  Peering through the security hole, she rolled her eyes to herself.  Of course.  Who else would it be?

Swinging the door open, she stepped aside.  “Hey.”

“Sorry, did I wake you?”  Clara was still bright-eyed, full of energy, dumping her jacket and purse on Rose’s kitchen table and hustling to the kettle.  “It’s only just gone midnight!  Look alive!”

Rose followed her into the kitchen, leaning on the doorframe and trying to keep her eyes open.  “D’you know, this was the number one thing I hated about living with you.  I genuinely do not believe I have ever seen you asleep, except for that time you got the flu.  And even then, you were just groggy.  How d’you do it?”

“Coffee!”

“Right.”  Rose yawned again, hugging herself.  “What’re you doing here, anyway?”

Clara paused then, leaning back on the counter and smiling sheepishly.  “Wanted to check on you.  That was something, wasn’t it?”

Brain still rebooting, it took Rose a minute to grasp her meaning.  “You mean the part where your uncle is trying to marry me off to my boss?”

“Technically he was Dad’s uncle.  But, yes, that part.  It’s bonkers, isn’t it?”

“Yeah.”  The kettle whistled then, and she shook her head.  “Pour those, will you?”  Not waiting for an answer she returned to the couch, curling up in one corner and pulling a fleece throw around her shoulders.

Clara followed her a minute later, carefully carrying two full mugs of tea.  “Here we go, ton of sugar and a dash of cream, just how you like it,” she chirped, handing one over, adding when Rose coughed at the first sip, “and a splash of scotch.”

“Thanks,” Rose said dryly, watching her friend settle into the other corner and smiling.  They’d done this a thousand times, during uni and after – spiked tea, curling up on the couch and talking about boys.  Malcolm’s not a ‘boy’.  He’s her father.  What the hell do I do?

“So, what are you thinking?” the brunette prompted, watching her expectantly.  “You haven’t said anything yet.”

“Who could get a word in edgewise?”  A glare made her sigh. “I genuinely have no idea.  I mean, yes- it’s bonkers.”

Clara froze with her tea halfway to her mouth, mug hovering oddly in mid-air.  “Do I detect a ‘but’?”

Running her thumb along the lip of the mug, Rose tried to absorb the warmth from it as she organized her thoughts.  “Losing the funding would be the end of the Foundation.  Full stop. You know he hates taking outside money, all the strings attached.  Without the inheritance, it’s over.  Eight years of my life, gone.  I’d have to get another job.”  Staring down into her drink, she tried to picture going on interviews, job hunting and working for someone else.  I like working for Malcolm.  There’s a reason I never left.  “There’s no denying I’ve got it great right now, and I don’t want to lose that.”

“Is that it?”

Her friend’s even stare bore a hole in her defenses, and Rose ducked her head further, hair falling forward to cover her face.  “I’m sure Wallace had his reasons,” she muttered defensively.

Silence lingered long enough for Rose to raise her head and make sure Clara was still there, only to find her watching with a calm, almost accepting expression on her face.

Nothing could have prepared her for Clara’s next words, however.

“You’re in love with my dad, aren’t you?”

[back-and-totheleft]

Patriots

I was totally anonymous, just a guy who didn't talk too much and tried to learn things as fast as I could. They didn't know your fucking first name. I was just 'Stone.' They were pissed off, angry people. I tried to stay out of trouble cause it was pretty heavy and I was a rookie. You're a replacement troop in a demoralized unit and everybody's counting days to get back home. I tried not to get too noticed. Just did my job and shut up. Don't get picked on. I was pretty good at that because some of the other new guys were really irritating to them and believe me, when you were a new guy they'd kill you. They don't really care about you, because you're an FNG [fucking new guy]. They'd put you up on point all the time. If you don't know what you're doing you're dead. And if they really wanted to fuck with you, they'd put you on an LP [listening post], which is spooky as hell because you're only two people outside the perimeter. 

The whole fucking thrust of the American media was I Corps - the marines, the Rockpile, the DMZ, Khe Sanh, all that glamour shit. You never heard about the 25th [Infantry Division] or the 1st [Cavalry Division] down at the Cambodian border. I don't remember seeing one fucking journalist in the 25th Infantry, ever. It was such an unglamorous fucking job. III Corps, where I was, was supposed to be the second front, but it was the first front. I Corps - that's the jab. The real punch - the right hook - was coming from the Ho Chi Minh Trail to III Corps aimed at Saigon, which is the head. That's the knockout punch. You cut the fucking head, the snake dies. All their tunnels, all their complexes, all the spies, most everything they had that was heavyweight was based around Saigon. 

They were a very capable enemy. Would not miss a detail. When they hit us on Firebase Burt on January 1, 1968, we found on the dead bodies the next day exact drawings of our perimeter, the spaces between our foxholes, and practically every piece of equipment that we had. They knew what they were doing. They're like fucking warrior ants. The Firebase Burt firefight was the one I put at the end of Platoon. They put RPGs [rocket propelled grenades] all over us. The only thing that saved my ass is that my company started out on the inner perimeter. If I'd been in C company I'd probably be dead. They were completely overrun down there. They were fighting with entrenching tools. I got a beehive up my ass that night. Beehives [artillery rounds filled with hundreds of small metal darts] were wicked things. Our guys were firing them from howitzers on the tanks point blank across the perimeter at the gooks and they didn't care if you were in the way. The beehive lifted me up and carried me about thirty yards and put me down somewhere. I didn't know what happened for about an hour. 

I got two wounds in the 25th, which meant I could take a noncombat assignment in the rear. So I went to Saigon with an auxiliary military police unit. It was the most boring fucking job, but you can't go to sleep or some sapper will come out on the fucking street and blow you away so it was really nerve-wracking. You go crazy after a while. Anyway, I got busted for the usual stuff. There was always fighting between the REMFs [rear-echelon motherfuckers] and the frontline troops because we'd come back and some asshole would always say, "Shine your shoes, blouse your pants, shave." My attitude was, kiss my ass. I had contempt for them because most of them had not been in the field. They were just cowards making money in the rear selling PX shit. I hated their fucking guys cause kids were dying out there. 

They were going to file charges against me for insubordination so I made a deal. I said, "Send me back to a combat unit. You get rid of me and I'd rather be there than here anyway." They sent me to the long range recon patrol in the First Cav, but I ended up being busted out of the Lurps, too, and I went across the road to the 1st of the 9th where I spent the last four or five months doing infantry. That was the unit the "Barnes" character [from Platoon] was in. He was a hell of a sergeant. He could kill and he knew how to get them. I remember one time we snuck up on 'em as they were eating breakfast. It's rare to sneak up on the VC, but he smelled the fish heads. We got them at dawn. The guy just loved killing. He really hated them, hated their fucking guts. He had scars on his face and he lived to kill. He was like a real Ahab. 

I was in the 1st of the 9th when I got a bronze star. It was a purely military action. I mean I don't think there was any doubt about what I did. It was a potentially disastrous situation. We were under fire, taking casualties, and there was a lot of confusion. People didn't know where they were going, units were crossing each other. It was just a jugfuck in a village about six klicks from the beach. We were on tracks that day and I remember the [scout] dog getting killed. Then the goddamn lieutenant and the sergeant got killed. A lot of snipers were popping up everywhere. So this one guy pops up in the middle of about fifty people and starts firing. He didn't hit anybody but you knew it was gonna happen. We were all spread out around his spider hole so there was no way you could shoot at this guy without hitting one of our own men. It was a complete fuck-up. I just reacted and my baseball arm cam through. I got the grenade right in the hole, first throw. If I'd missed the hole the fucking grenade would have rolled right into my own men. It was pretty dicey, but I felt good cause I saved some men, I think. I also saved men all along the line. I saved men from drowning. And I saved villages from being killed when I could, or raped. 

I don't like it when veterans say, "Well, it's a war, you can do anything you want. It's such a fuck-up you civilians would never understand it." I don't buy that bullshit for one fucking second. It's so tiring to hear those clunkheads say you can blow anybody away in a war. Even though war brings out the worst behavior in every man, there is a moral place. We were destined to lost because this war had no moral purpose and it was fought without any moral integrity.

-Oliver Stone quoted in Patriots: The Vietnam War Remembered from All Sides by Christian G Appy (2003)

[tacitcantos]

The Biggest Difference Between The Wolf Among Us and Fable Comic

More than just seeing how clever the writer can be in fitting the jigsaw pieces of fairy tale and modern day together, The Wolf Among Us is interested in the deeper thematic resonance to be mined in looking at the consequences of the original fairy tales: in what happens when you strip fairytales of their gravitas, in the complexities and nuances of how the Big Bad Wolf would deal with his past in the modern day.

The Wolf Among Us is a prequel videogame to the long running Fables comic series. The premise of both is simple: all of the fables of brother’s Grimm fame are refugees in our world after having to flee their own, and now live in hiding in an enclave in New York called Fabletown. The main character of both comic and game is Bigby Wolf, the big bad wolf of legend now reformed as the sheriff of Fabletown.

The Wolf Among Us has a dynamic storyline that shifts and reacts to the dialog choices you make for Bigby, and the game is easily one of the smartest takes on fairy tales you’ll find in any medium. One of the themes inherent in any modern day take on fairy tales is postmodernism, the fun in the premise seeing how fairytale characters slot into a modern world, of juxtaposing the mythos of the original stories with the mundane of everyday life. The Fables aren’t mythical characters anymore, no longer princes and damsels and monsters, they’re all just people now trying to get by.

But more than just seeing how clever the writer can be in fitting the jigsaw pieces of fairy tale modern day together, The Wolf Among Us is interested in the deeper thematic resonance to be mined in looking at the consequences of the original fairy tales: in what happens when you strip fairytales of their gravitas, in the complexities and nuances of how the Big Bad Wolf would deal with his past in the modern day.

Though the comic series was started back in 2002, twelve years before The Wolf Among Us was released, my introduction to the Fables universe came first through the game, and after finishing it I went on to read the comics… and was almost immediately disappointed.

The thing is, while The Wolf Among Us is a nuanced and complicated take on fairy tales, the Fables comics... aren’t. They’re not badly written, but they’re only interested in that fun surface level of draping fairy tales over the modern day without any real engagement with how that changes or complicates them. Every way The Wolf Among Us engages with the specifics of the original fairy tales, the comics don’t.

Now, the comic series does actually at first do some smart things: so Fabletown isn’t ripped apart from internal conflict all inhabitants are granted blanket immunity for past crimes in their old world. To protect from the outside mundane world they’re also forbidden from revealing their magical identities. While for the human fables this is easy enough, for inhuman fables like trolls or talking frogs it requires purchasing expensive spells, called glamours, to disguise themselves, or risk being shipped off to a farm outside the city.

These are a great example of taking advantage of the Fabletown premise: they’re logical extrapolations, and they set the stage for interesting conflicts. Both comic and game explore those conflicts, but do so in fundamentally different ways.

A few issues into the comics those inhuman fables on the farm rebel and try to take the reins of power for themselves. This is actually one of the few places the comics really engage with the original fairy tales and make full creative use of them: there’s an especially funny reference to Goldilocks having gone native with the three bears from her story and now works as a terrorist and freedom fighter for inhuman fables, but there’s very little long term value to the storyline. The rebellion is put down after a few chapters, but there’s no change to the Fabletown status quo, no growth for any of the characters involved, no examination or deconstruction of the themes of the story or original fairy tales.

Instead of being a fun little side story, the tension between human and non-human fables makes up the core of The Wolf Among Us. A deep trench of bitterness separates the have’s from the have-nots, with inhuman fables ignored by the Fabletown government and treated like second class citizens.

It’s actually remarkably similar to real life ethnic enclaves at the turn of the century. In trying to solve the first murder of a fable in years, Bigby has to navigate a Fabletown where Beauty and Beast, like a lot of refugees, were wealthy in their home country but now find themselves resorting to less than savory ways to pay for a lifestyle they can no longer afford; where racial resentment between those who can pass as the native population and those who can’t is high; where the weak institutions of the fabletown government have allowed an organized crime element to rise to power and take advantage of the vacuum in fabletown just as the mafia did in Italian ethnic enclaves in New York.

Bigby himself operates in a really interesting liminal space between the two classes of fables: viewed as a traitor and Uncle Tom by one side while also never fully accepted by the other. Despite the clemency granted to all fables for their crimes in the old world, no one’s forgotten just how many people Bigby ate in the homelands.

This is an aspect of Bigby that isn’t explored in the comics, and his reasons for taking on the office of sheriff aren’t either. It’s suggested at one point that he came to Fabletown and reformed from his old ways because of his interest in Snow White. And it’s not a bad motivation per se, it’s just that it isn’t explored more than that. There’s no character growth, no struggle in trying to refrain from violence despite his enjoyment and affinity for it, no conflict between his old ways and the new person he’s trying to be, no emotional toll in the suspicion the other fables view him with, no personal cost in what he’s doing.

The best example of this is the introduction of Red Riding Hood a dozen issues or so into the comics. With the Big Bad Wolf as a main character you might think one of his former victims showing up to be a complicated and thorny issue… but you’d be wrong.

There’s a single page where Red Riding Hood is upset by Bigby being the sheriff and forgiven for his crimes in the old world, but it’s quickly discovered that she’s not actually Red Riding Hood, and instead an evil witch in disguise. Narratively, her appearance is simply a ploy by the villains that once discovered isn’t commented on again. There’s no emotional or thematic conflict in it, no examination of the complicated relationship between former abuser and victim, of how to reconcile past wrongs, of the bitterness Red Riding Hood should feel over how the other fables have accepted the monster that once terrorized them all. The real Red Riding Hood does eventually show up later, but she has even less to do with Bigby than the fake one.

While Red Riding Hood doesn’t appear in The Wolf Among Us, the game does confront Bigby with an element from his original fairytale: the Woodsman.

And his relationship with Bigby is nuanced. Instead of the hero of the story as he was in the Homelands, in Fabletown he’s a drunk and abuser of women, and resents Bigby: he’s the hero of the story, not Bigby, so why is he a suspect in a murder case? Doesn’t anyone remember what Bigby is? What he’s done? These are interesting questions that spring from the original fairytale, and ones that go unasked in the comics. They’re also used for character growth: depending on your choices in the game there can be a distinct arc with Bigby and the Woodsman finally burying the hatchet and reaching an understanding with each other.

Bigby’s motivation in becoming sheriff in The Wolf Among Us is positioned as less about Snow, and more about reforming his image and identity as a whole. This motivation informs all his actions in the game: the constant friction between lapsing back into his old Big Bad Wolf persona to speed the investigation along, and the new order abiding and non-violent one he’s trying to forge. And despite his best efforts there’s a real undertone throughout the game that he may be needed because of his ability to inflict violence, but because of exactly that he’ll never be trusted.

It’s a really nuanced way of engaging with the consequences of the original fairytale and using it to inform character growth and theme.

Part of the reason the game is so much better at exploring these themes is down to both a difference in the medium and genre. The main game mechanic of The Wolf Among Us is decision making and dialog choices, and the more complex and multifaceted the characters and conflicts, the more interesting it is to play. And the noir detective genre is simply a better vehicle for exploring those small, personal tensions and conflicts than the superhero war story of the comics.

Moral relativism is a hallmark of noir which makes creating nuanced characters easier, and a murder mystery by its nature requires the detective to move through the different stratas of society and puzzle out the motivations and nuances of suspects and witnesses. There’s also just a hundred small ways the presentation of The Wolf Among Us reinforces the unglamorous nature of Fabletown: the neon lights that drench the world, the constant graffiti in the background, the thick atmosphere of the music, Bigby’s weariness in quiet moments, the way his fridge is empty.

Even the titles of the comics and game set them apart: Fables is a generic and vague title, The Wolf Among Us specific, intriguing, and hints at the liminal space Bigby occupies, the themes of fear and belonging.

None of this is to say that the original Fable comics are bad. They’re not: they’re well written and well drawn. But they’re not everything they could be, not as brilliant as their premise promises. The fairytale elements in them are just draped over a conventional plot, the connections only skin deep.

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