#and leaving with just an aspect would be.

[gay-dorito-dust]

Jason who’d make sure you ate and drink throughout the day but does it in the most nonchalant way, as though he had been doing it for ages, whether it’d be a greasy bag of junk food or something he made from scratch, all he’s going to leave you is with the stern command of ‘eat.’

He’s making sure you’re not skipping any important meals, and if you were then he was more likely to scold you while making you something to eat and drink. He’s confusing but he’s caring at the same time and had a unique way of showing it as you’d find from Roy.

‘He just wants you to be okay, he’s just rough with how he shows it but he means well.’ He’d say to you and from then on you’d watch as Jason’s eyes went from stern to concerned and how his posture completely changed into one that was eager to help you before it was too late, almost as though he was on a timer.

Even his stiff pats on your shoulder were oddly comforting and sweet coming from a man who didn’t think he was that hopeful and bright young man anymore, but he was, he very much was but he was just drastically altered to adapt to his new life.

Dick who will sit by you in silence when you least expect it, almost as though he knew you’d needed some comfort but not the talking aspect of it.

He’d stay close enough where you could feel his warmth, but keep a distance so you didn’t feel as though you were being suffocated by his presence.

He’s more then willing to listen to you speak about what you’ve been finding hard as of late and let you air out all your frustrations, not once offer any advice unless you asked for it and when you do it’s the most meaningful piece of advice you’ve ever been given. He’s been though a lot himself so he’s more then equipped to help you and would even offer you to a friendly spar to get the access aggression out.

Damian who’d secretly have a sketchbook dedicated to you that is filled to the brim with you doing the most mundane things possible, but he highlights you in such a way that it almost seemed as though he was romanticising your actions.

He never shows you it, not until you voice how you didn’t feel valued or loved or appreciated in the slightest and suddenly he’s expecting the most normal thing in his entire life; embarrassment incase you’d find him weird for having so many sketches of you.

He smiles when you smile and finds himself wanting to be more open with his emotions but only if it’s with you.

Bruce who’d always tends to your every injury himself, even if it was a tiny paper cut he’s treating it as though your finger was hanging on by a thread.

He’s had his fair share of injuries but they’re often more severe then the ones you get, but he treats them with the same level of seriousness, that you couldn’t help but smile at his furrowed brows as he tended to the small bruise on your upper arm.

He’s tender and calloused hands worked swiftly to preach you up and he would even give your plastered wound a healing kiss, claiming it would help speed up the healing process. He was sweet and doting with you and your minor injuries that he’s covering the corners of every countertop and table within your vicinity, and or helping you up from under things incase you’d hit your head.

[perfumedanger]

I KNOW this has to have been explored in about 12,000 fics already, but sometimes I wonder how much of Dean's love for Mary is Jane Seymour style in as that she just didn't live long enough to fuck up his idea of her. What would their relationship in the now be if, when she heard wee baby Sam crying, she'd gotten out of bed and realized she had to pee REALLY badly and took two minutes to take care of that first, thus missing the demon and her untimely fiery death? Now she gets to live and Sam and Dean get to grow up with a mom.

Does she eventually get dragged back into hunting, since hunters never retire, they just die, and thus the boys get pulled in as well, no matter how much she might not have wanted that?

Does she manage to shield them from that aspect of her life, so mom just comes home beat to shit every now and then, and gets to be the parent that misses all Dean's baseball games and Sam's mathlete competitions?

Do her and John stay together now that their job making apocalypse vessels is done? (things seemed like they were getting rocky while she was preggo with Sam)

Or maybe they just have the world's most white bread, suburban life ever recorded. Bake sales, braces, teaching Dean to drive the wood paneled station wagon, sending Sam to summer science camp. Everything is perfect and picket fences. ...and then Sam gets snatched off to Apocalypse boot camp in Cold Oak and gets double plus killed to shit because he doesn't know anything about demons or hunting things or carrying anything heavier than box of vegetable oil from his teenage parttime job at the local grocery store. And Dean sure as shit has never heard of a crossroads demon, so he can't wander off and make a deal to get Sam back. So now Sam is dead and Mary gets to decide if she's going to come clean about the whole demon deal/hunter thing, and make Dean fucking HATE HER for leaving them unprepared for what was coming and thus being DIRECTLY responsible for Sam DYING, or if she's going to stay quiet and hope that it never comes out and makes Dean hate her for all of the above AND keeping him in the dark about everything.

And sometimes I wonder if I think too much about how things COULD have gone if they just changed this one little thing. Or that thing. Or maybe this other one.......

fucking dean winchester who reads kurt vonnegut and harper lee and can shoot a gun with the best of them and knows how to talk to kids and doesn’t trust easily but loves fiercely and is the best damn hunter the world has ever seen and drinks too much because he cares too much and makes the greatest homemade burgers and keeps a photo of his mother by his bed and ugh.

[starcurtain]

Another Phaidei Fic I Want to Read

It's the political arranged marriage AU but make it (ooooo) complicated~

Crown Prince Mydeimos of Castrum Kremnos was born under a dark star, with a prophecy of abject despair uttered at the moment of his birth: Mydeimos will be the last king of Kremnos. The city-state will fall, her people will be lost, and the glory of Strife entirely will fade into nameless oblivion. Year after year, the prophets repeat the same warnings: Mydeimos is cursed, and he will bring the downfall of their kingdom and all its inhabitants.

But no one in Kremnos knew just how cursed their prince was until the day the regent's war council convinced their king to do the unthinkable: If Mydeimos was sacrificed, perhaps their prophecy of destruction could be averted and Kremnos saved...

Only Mydei couldn't even die like he was supposed to. No matter how many times he was mortally wounded, the boy just kept standing up--not even Thanatos would take him. That glorious death in battle that all Kremnoan warriors were expected to achieve--even this most central aspect of Mydei's own culture rejected him.

This life of betrayal and total loneliness, with the promise of eventually destroying everything he knew and cared for, seemed inescapable--until one day, when Mydeimos had already passed the age of majority (and would have long since been allowed to challenge his father for the crown if it weren't for the despair prophesied to be his reign), a new vision was shared among all of their people's seers: There was a way to avert their kingdom's impending destruction and save their people. "Only the son of Aedes Elysiae can deliver Castrum Kremnos from the dark tide and restore the true king to her throne."

Aedes Elysiae is a tiny city-state with nowhere near enough military might to defend against a full onslaught from the Kremnoans. But the risk that the Elysian prince could be harmed--and all of Kremnos' future lost in the process--is too high to engage in a traditional war of conquest. Although it runs contrary to the Kremnoans' very natures, if it means securing their kingdom's future and hiding the truth of their foreseen fate forever, they will engage in any manner of subterfuge and political maneuvering necessary.

Namely, by using the threat of war to force Aedes Elysiae to surrender their crown prince to a permanent and binding political alliance. If the Elysians want to avoid obliteration by the military might of the Kremnoans, they will tie the destiny of their crown prince to the Strifewalkers' through blood and oath--a marriage to Kremnos' own Prince Mydeimos. In this way, perhaps the curse can finally be outweighed by the glory of a savior.

Enter Phainon: the pride and joy of Aedes Elysiae, the golden sun to his people, loved by everyone who knows him. Although his heart has always been soft and romantic, rebelling fiercely at the idea of marrying someone he's never met and doesn't love, there is nothing Phainon won't do to protect his people and his kingdom--even if it means sacrificing himself.

So Phainon agrees to leave his family and homeland behind, and makes the miserable journey to Castrum Kremnos to meet his destiny... as well as his new husband.

Too bad Mydei wants absolutely nothing to do with him.

Disgusted by his father's willingness to forsake Kremnos' sacred principles of pride and integrity by using underhanded tactics and falsehoods to force Aedes Elysiae's prince into compliance, Mydei refuses to even acknowledge his marriage to Phainon, let alone look in his fellow prince's direction.

Which wouldn't be a problem, honestly, if it weren't for the fact that poor Phainon is smitten within days.

When the Kremnoans were strong-arming Aedes Elysiae's king into giving up his beloved son, why had no one thought to just tell Phainon that Prince Mydeimos was so... so... upright and honest and brave and powerful and gorgeous and straightforward and humorous and quick-witted and honorable and also gorgeous? (Phainon thinks perhaps this last point should be repeated a few more times for good measure.) Truly, Phainon might have gone willingly if anyone had just thought to show him a portrait of his husband-to-be in advance!

While Phainon struggles to catch his own husband's attention and soften Mydei's seemingly unbreakable stone heart, Mydei struggles with his father's demands to keep his curse hidden, to not reveal the omen of destruction lurking behind this sham of a marriage. Though having to lie shreds every last tatter of pride Mydei has, if this prince of Aedes Elysiae discovers the truth, that he's been brought here solely to counteract Mydei's prophesied inability to reign, Kremnos' enemies will know it within the hour. A single weakness will be all the world needs to turn on the Kremnoans, to bring Mydei's terrible destiny to pass.

And... And if Phainon learns the truth about Mydeimos, about his curse, about how he is an abomination that not even death will accept, about the misery he is destined to bring, about the failures that are sure to come, about how he is hated by his country, his people, his own family--then Mydei will lose the first person who has ever smiled freely at him, ever wanted to walk beside him, ever spoke kind words in his direction...

There is no way Phainon would ever look at him the same again.

There is no way Phainon would stay.

And that would be cruelest fate of all.

(What Mydei and Castrum Kremnos don't know is that Phainon has a secret of his own: He's not royalty by blood in the slightest. He was a penniless orphan who just got lucky enough to be taken in by the castle and end up, through twists in his own destiny, to be raised by the childless rulers of Elysiae from nothing but the kindness of their hearts.

There is no son of Aedes Elysiae to save Castrum Kremnos from its fate--and the dark tide comes for all.

But visions bestowed by the gods must not be doubted. Perhaps the combined efforts of two lonely people--the one who forsook his own land for love and the one who could only be loved by someone from another land--will see the sun of Aedes Elysiae delivered to Kremnos once more...

And put a true and honest king upon her throne at last.)

[residentwordsofaffirmationdealer]

DAMIAN WAYNE MOMENTS ABOUT TRUST AND CARING 1. He tries to protect tim from pru, who he knows is an assassin for his grandfather, but tim is working with him, and tim slams damian down onto the floor.

2. despite how he acts, he does deeply care for dick and even charges at the Heretic (is that what he's called? i've highkey forgotten) to protect dick

"look at me. touch him again, i'll kill you! leave him alone!"

3. he's scared that bruce will give up on him and never give him another fair chance

"and here i thought we didn't like each other." "we don't understand each other. there's a difference." "don't give up on me, father."

4. he looks up to bruce a lot, even if his idealized version of him is very different from how he actually is, and he's found it very hard to gain bruce's approval

"i want to be like you. i've always wanted to be like you."

5. bruce makes it blatantly obvious he doesn't really trust damian and thinks he's selfish

"and if i can't trust you to do what i think is right, then" "even dick trusted me -- why can't you?"

"you're sounding more and more like a cold-hearted ten-year-old boy who only cares about himself"

"i'm terrified you don't care about anybody but yourself." "but i do, father"

6. tim includes him on his hit list

"i have done all that has been asked of me! i control aspects of my upbringing neither of you could begin to understand -- and i am dismissed -- by him -- as a threat to be monitored for some hidden agenda?! it isn't fair"

tim justifies his contingency plans by assuring them that he has contingencies for both villains and heroes, because they're for the event of an emergency, but he notably does not have one for dick, and when dick confronts tim about it, tim says its understandable because of damian's "history" and "biology" (presumably about the time talia took control of his movements and tried to kill dick) and anyway tim "didn't think the homunculus would ... be hurt by it" and dick replies that damian "practically bleeds a need to be accepted" i have more thoughts on this and i'll come back to this when i can phrase it cohesively BUT damian's relationship with trust and caring is soooo interesting and his little "it's not fair".......... its like when will he be trusted?? when will they see he's not selfish and he does care?? will they ever stop trying to understand him?? will they even try?? he's just trying to help :(

[thejakeformerlyknownasprince]

With your point about David, I think that is so true. Like, I think everyone (especially reading the books as kids) felt like they’d be an Animorph, they’d be a Rachel or Marco or Cassie, but I feel like most people would in fact be a David.

Yes! Like, to be clear, there are plenty of everyman and relatable aspects about the six main characters. Ax never pays attention in school, Cassie's a fashion disaster, Jake has no talents and no idea what he wants to do with his life, Marco could be a straight-A student but can't be bothered, Rachel falls off the balance beam, and Tobias approaches difficult decisions by pretending they're not happening until it's already too late. They all have moments where they're scared and tired and hopeless to the point where they choose to quit fighting the war. Even Rachel quits in #37, though Cassie and Marco are roughly tied for most instances of trying to leave the war.

But we also see them get up and keep going when they're sad and scared and tired. We see Jake wanting to scream and cry because he's about to ask his friends to nearly die for him, again, and then clench his teeth and do it anyway (#36). We see Rachel longing to take a ten-year nap, to have someone wake her up when it's all over, and then she charges first into danger anyway (#17). So on and on.

They feel like they're within reach. Like they're versions of us we could be, if we could just find that much selflessness and strength within ourselves when called upon to do so.

[httpwintersoldier]

the way this person is talking you'd think their parents told them that santa came down the chimney and sat on their pillow, holy shit.

it's a little fun thing!! it's a fun thing for kids to do and for kids to believe in and there's no harm in it, a 5 year old doesn't need to have a realistic "worldview", what universe does this person live in? lmfao? And the "gaslighting aspect"? Someone needs to take social media away from you, ASAP.

And yes, you're the asshole for ruining a fun, harmless belief for a little kid, "you don't have a way of knowing if they're santa believers" well baby just like you don't know many things about many people, what we do is assume as to not be rude.

And let me tell you something, your parents have lied to you for your sake when you were growing up, that's a given, parents lie because there's things kids shouldn't worry about, or know about. It's a lot easier to say "santa had a lot of kids this year and couldn't get you many presents" rather than "mommy and daddy have no money this year", because a family's economic struggle is not for a CHILD to worry about.

I have no idea why this landed on my page, if there is one thing I'm going to do my whole life is protect kids' innocences and give them a fun childhood while they still have it.

It's a fun tradition, there is no gaslighting or manipulation, and if you get your kid to behave well because of Santa then bonus points. When you're of age you start realizing Santa was actually your parents and that's it, I don't get this big "YOU'VE BEEN LIED TO" uproar.

I would rather have my memories with "santa" and of all the things my parents did to keep the christmas spirit alive than just have the truth because it was a lot more fun and it created a lot more memories. Sorry I wasn't leaving milk and cookies for my parents on the 23rd.

my family celebrates christmas but my parents didn’t raise me to believe in santa, i knew of him as a fictional character basically but i knew my parents were getting presents and stuff and not santa. so i have always found it a little insane that as a christmas treat parents gaslight their children into believing in this mythical being who brings presents only if theyre good and construct all this lore and everything and keep it up for years. aside from celebrating jesus and giving presents there’s the Gaslighting Aspect of christmas. it’s so crazy to me. and if you accidentally break kids’ belief in santa YOURE the bad guy even tho a) u dont have a way of knowing if theyre santa believers b) its not real and c) their parents have been intentionally manipulating their worldview to make them Think its real. crazy to me

[broidobe]

𝔞𝔵𝔩 𝔯𝔬𝔰𝔢 𝔫𝔰𝔣𝔴 𝔞𝔩𝔭𝔥𝔞𝔟𝔢𝔱

requested!

⁎⁺˳✧༚guns and roses masterlist

a = aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

axl can’t help but be raw and emotional afterward.

he might pull you close, almost desperately, and murmur things about how much you mean to him.

he needs that reassurance that you’re still there with him

axl loves skin-to-skin contact afterward

once he’s calmed down, Axl might open up and talk to you about his thoughts or feelings, especially if something has been bothering him

deep down, axl carries a lot of insecurities, so he might ask if he was good enough or if you’re happy

he craves validation but won’t say it outright

b = body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

okay there’s two

thighs are a strong contender for his favorite.

he’d adore running his hands over them, gripping them, or just watching them while you sit.

bonus points if you’re wearing something short or tight—he’d have a hard time keeping his eyes (or hands) off you

let’s not beat around the bush—axl’s definitely an ass guy.

he’d openly admire it, give cheeky grabs, and couldn’t get enough of seeing you in tight jeans or nothing at all

axl knows his lips are a weapon in the bedroom.

he’d take pride in the way he kisses, teases, and leaves marks.

smirking against your skin, whispering dirty things, or giving slow, deliberate kisses, he’s fully aware of the power his mouth holds—and he loves it.

so yeah, i’d say his mouth is his favourite

c = cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

honestly? he will cum anywhere on you or in you

it’s whatever he feels like

if he wants to cum on your face? he will

your stomach? he will

d = dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

axl secretly loves being dominated or at least losing control in certain moments.

while he’s fiery and intense on stage or in public, behind closed doors, he gets a thrill out of someone taking the lead and making him feel completely vulnerable.

you pinning him down, teasing him mercilessly, or whispering filthy things in his ear?

he secretly craves those moments where he doesn’t have to be in charge.

he wouldn’t admit it outright—his pride and ego wouldn’t let him—but when it happens, you’d notice how he melts under your touch, totally undone by the role reversal. and the next day? he’d play it cool like it never happened, though you might catch that little smirk when he remembers how much he loved it.

e = experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

he’s fucking experienced

but he was like those rock stars that only cared about how they felt, not their partner

so you’d have to talk with him about it

he knows what he’s doing and he fucking loves it honestly

f = favorite position (this goes without saying)

doggy style

axl would love the raw, unfiltered intensity of this position. 

it gives him a chance to be rough (if you’re into that), grip your hips, and lose himself in the moment.

plus, he’d get a perfect view of you, which he’d definitely appreciate

g = goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

he’s pretty serious

he’s a pretty dominant person that takes sex to a whole other level

and that level doesn’t include any joking around

h = hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

i think he’s like a go-bald-once-a-month kinda guy

he lets it grow out and shaves it the first of every month

and you find it hilarious how on schedule he is

yes…he’s ginger down there too

but it’s honestly so light

and guys…it’s lowkey so smooth down there

like when he grows it out…

it’s like…silk

OKAY I’M SORRY I’M DONE

i = intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

he’s really into the moment if that makes sense

he’s never too romantic

he’s very cocky and he always makes these snarky comments about how good at fucking you he is lmfao

but uhm…he can be funny

in his own way

he likes to talk in this very literal, big worded way

here's an example

you're really enjoying that, aren't you? i'm completely immersed in this experience with you, and it's incredibly exhilarating

he normally does this when he’s drunk but sometimes he’ll just…do it

and it’s fucking hilarious

j = jack off (masturbation headcannon)

oohhhh yeah

this man loves jacking off

he did it A LOT before you

but he’s cut down

but he really only jacks off to things that have something to do with you

k = kink (one or more of their kinks)

as mentioned before, he’s just so fucking dominant

BUT as also mentioned, he also has a thing for being submissive

he’s a switch (fight me if you disagree)

teasing

he’s evil with it too

he never stops teasing

denial

he never gives you a break man. how the fuck do you do it?

dirty talk god

he degrades, teases, praises

oh jesus he’s a kink god this list could go on forever

light bdsm

spanking, light restraints, and other forms of controlled pain

but nothing too painful

voyeurism

he likes the idea of being watched while he fucks you

he’s a show off

impact play

spanking, slapping, or using other implements (like paddles or whips)

but again, not very hard

power dynamics (master/slave)

it would play out in verbal commands, physical restraint, and possibly obedience

sensory play

blindfolds, restraints, or even sound-depriving methods (like headphones) to heighten other senses

l = location (favorite places to do the do)

he will take you anywhere

he doesn’t have a favourite

i mean you’re still you no matter where you are

but if he was being held at gunpoint and he had to pick?

he’d say in one of his bandmates beds

he thrives off of the risk it serves

and the bed forever being seen as “the bed we fucked on while blank wasn’t here”

m = motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

oh god anything

like anything

it’s just a constant hard on when he’s around you

n = no (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

he wouldn’t put you in excruciating pain

total submission

i couldn’t see him completely being at your mercy

o = oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

prefers receiving

because they’re quick, easy, and they feel amazing

but he’s up to eat you out at any time

he just prefers getting a blowjob

p = pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

he is so rough it’s deadly

i don’t think this man has ever gone slow in his life

he’s like the definition of go big or go home

even when he’s blackout drunk

q = quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

he loves em

they fit well into his schedule

especially because he loves fucking you as much as possible

like he’ll take you during soundcheck, before the show, after the show, in the tour bus bathroom

ANYWHERE ANYTIME FOR ANY DURATION HE’S HAPPY

r = risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

he is big on taking risks

he’s never not taking a risk

he fucks you in the riskiest places ever

and he doesn’t care

he loves the thrill

and he’s totally up to experiment

he’d honestly do anything you ask

s = stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

4 rounds 30 minutes give or take

i could see him being like really used up after the first round but being so obsessed with you that he doesn’t want to stop

t = toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

never had them for himself

doesn’t have any for you

like you have ONE

and you use it when he’s not there (in which he doesn’t know)

cause he can get a bit jealous

u = unfair (how much they like to tease)

he’s fucking terrible honestly

he will gladly take 10 minutes of his time teasing the shit outta you

he’s an ass

v = volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

he’s really loud

like neighbours could file a noise complaint loud

you like that, don’t you?

don’t make me wait (even though he makes you wait SO LONG)

i’m gonna take you slow (LIAR)

beg for me

do you feel me? you should (COCKY)

i could do this all night

let me show you how much i want you

i can’t get enough of you, it’s like i need you

i love hearing you moan for me

mm... you’re so tight, fuck (spoken with this throaty growl)

shit... i’m so deep in you... mmh…

ahh... right there, baby, just like that…

mmh... you like that, don’t you? Fuck...

mmh, so fucking perfect...

w = wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

axl once got super into the moment and tried to pull off one of those dramatic, slow, intense moves, but instead, he miscalculated and ended up rolling off the bed entirely, landing in a heap on the floor.

he just laid there for a second, blinking in disbelief, before cracking up.

you were laughing too, and he sheepishly said, “guess that was my big entrance, huh?” 

from then on, you two couldn’t help but giggle every time you tried to get all serious in bed.

x = x-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

he’s low key packing

7.5 inches, i couldn’t say anything otherwise

he doesn’t have a whole lot of girth

but that doesn’t mean he has none

y = yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

HIGH.

i think i’ve said enough.

z = zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

i think it really depends on how much he uses himself

i’d say on average, 15 minutes

[kelliealtogether]

So I can't get enough of the fanart of Adam with a beard that @try-set-me-on-fire has been blessing us with, and I wrote a little something inspired by this art of theirs because we love a beardy, unkempt, mysterious Adam Parrish.

Adam Parrish never anticipated growing a beard would itch.

Before averting the end of the world, he always shaved before his facial hair made it past the stage of stubble. Unlike Gansey, Adam had the capacity to grow something other than a scraggly tuft on his chin, but — as evidenced by Ronan when he lowered himself to show up for classes prior to dropping out — scruff took the dignity of the Aglionby uniform down a peg. Dignity being an aspect of the school uniform he needed most, Adam lathered up every morning with dollar store shaving cream and used a dollar store razor to clear his jaw, cheeks, upper lip, and chin of the faint blond fuzz that appeared overnight. It was the last step of the perfunctory routine he’d crafted to get ready with minimal effort and time, a step that often left his face dotted with bloody bits of toilet paper, the quantity driven by how much sleep he’d stolen the night before.

That routine followed him to Harvard, moving from his tiny, antiquated bathroom in his apartment above St. Agnes to a shared dormitory bathroom, where it stuck around until Adam returned to campus after a two week leave of absence because reacclimating his soul with his body was a lot more difficult than he initially planned. 

Not to mention with Ronan back from the sweetmetal sea, and with every ley line everywhere awake, Adam wasn't exactly rushing to return to classes.

But when he did, the Adam Parrish who returned to Harvard wasn't the same Adam Parrish who had left campus one evening to scry and find his boyfriend. The Adam Parrish who returned to Cambridge for his final semester in the Ivy League aligned closer with the Adam Parrish he'd been the past summer at the Barns. An Adam Parrish who didn't have to perform, not because it didn't matter, and not because he didn't care, but because he didn't want to. He didn't have to. The past few weeks had given him some perspective on what really mattered, on the fragility of not just his own body and mind, but the whole world, and as soon as he admitted that he didn't want to stay at Harvard and that he didn't want to keep acting like a cut-rate Gansey, he reached a level he'd learned about in his first semester psychology class but never personally experienced. 

The morning he returned to campus, Adam put the picture-perfect student who looked like he belonged on brick-paved walkways and around stacks of leatherbound library books on a shelf behind his closet door. He donned flannel instead of tweed. Jeans instead of slacks. He shoved his feet in old, scuffed sneakers instead of pristinely polished secondhand brogues, and he wore an old oversized Harvard sweatshirt Blue had found him in a thrift store after he’d gotten his acceptance letter instead of plain, drab sweaters Adam bought because he thought they looked academic. 

In the end, he returned to wearing all the clothes he’d initially left behind at the Barns when he’d driven away in August because they didn’t match who he’d wanted to become at Harvard. 

He’d really been such a fool not all that long ago. 

Without cuffed sleeves and cuffed hems, he became almost unrecognizable. Unimpressive. Unremarkable. The dorm proctor stopped him and asked him who had signed him in as a guest before realizing she was talking to Adam. Professors did a double take when he stopped by during office hours to turn in make-up assignments. Classmates who always asked him to study with them hardly looked his way. Just a change in wardrobe alone — from classic to comfort — stripped away so much of the false front he’d put up for months, enough that the Crying Club didn't notice him waiting for them when he asked them to meet him in Thayer's basement so he could provide an explanation and attempt an apology.

Then Adam’s already-perfunctory morning routine became impossibly more perfunctory when, first, he ran out of the styling paste he used to wrangle his self-cut hair into something presentable, and then — a few days later — ran out of shaving cream. 

Unless he looked closely at himself in the mirror — steam swiped away to make a lopsided circle large enough for his shower-pinked face — Adam couldn’t tell he hadn’t shaven. In the thin, sickly gray of the bathroom, he had to tilt his head one way and lift his chin before the coarse, fair hair on his jaw caught a little bit of light. Straight on, he looked the same as he always had: feather boned, gaunt cheeked, thin lipped, wary eyed. 

Except those wary eyes had recently lost their dark circles. 

That first morning, Adam told himself he’d stop by a drugstore and pick up more shaving cream, but he didn’t. And he didn’t the next day. And he didn’t the next day either. By the fourth morning, he finally began looking slightly scruffy. Or maybe slightly rugged. Nothing like Ronan — who grew a five o’clock shadow by noon — but when Adam ran his hand across his jaw, rough hairs scraped his palm, and he didn’t have to move his head a certain way to see the stubble on his face. A distinct coating of fair hair covered most of the bottom half of his face, a subtle shadow Adam didn’t totally hate, and if he left it alone, he’d save himself five to ten minutes every morning. 

So he left it alone. 

But then it started itching. 

“The fuck is that sound?” Ronan asked during one of their nightly phone calls. 

While Adam sat on his bed in his Harvard dorm, Ronan sat in a hotel room somewhere in the Great Smoky Mountains, priming to track down a dreamer he’d been encountering in dreamspace the past few days. In an effort to help, Adam had flipped some tarot cards onto his comforter, and while figuring out their meaning, he’d started absently scratching his jaw right by where he held his phone to his right ear. 

“What?” Adam replied, hearing Ronan’s question but not picking up its meaning, too absorbed in figuring out how Temperance fit into any kind of reading involving Ronan. 

“That sound,” Ronan said. “It’s like I’m in a damn cabin in the woods and the monster of the week’s trying to get through the door.” 

Adam furrowed his eyebrows, still focused on the wispy figure pouring smoke-like water from one cup into another. “The monster of the…” Slowly, Ronan’s words sank in and Adam stilled his fingertips on his face before dropping his hand into his lap. “Oh.” 

“Oh?”

“I was scratching my face.” 

“Why? Do they have fleas at Harvard? Bed bugs? Magical mosquitos?” 

“No,” Adam said flatly. “I ran out of shaving cream and haven’t shaved in a few days and my — beard? I guess it’s a beard. My beard itches.” 

Silence stretched across the phone line for so long Adam checked to make sure the call hadn’t disconnected because Ronan’s phone died, but the time still ticked upward on the screen of his phone. He’d simply rendered Ronan speechless for a few moments because he hadn’t picked up a razor in a week. 

“You have a beard,” Ronan said when he finally got his wits back about him. 

“It’s not really a—” 

“Don’t tell me it’s like that little soul patch thing Dick tries to grow everytime he has ideas about being manly.” 

Laughing dryly, Adam gave up on interpreting Temperance and laid back on his bed, rubbing his hand over his cheek to ease the itch instead of scratching as he replied, “It’s not like that. But it’s not a beard beard. I said it’s only been a few days.” 

“Send me a picture.” 

“I’m not sending a picture.” 

“Because it’s coming in uneven. I bet you look mangy.” 

“I do not look mangy.” 

“I bet you do. That’s why you won’t send me a picture.” 

“I do not look mangy,” Adam repeated. “Jesus, Ronan. If I send you one, will you quit saying that?” 

“I make no promises, Parrish.” 

A half hour later, after they finished their call, Adam did take a photo of himself. Mostly because when he sent a rare selfie to Ronan, Ronan sent one back, even if it was only one side of his face or a close up of an eye. And because it was for Ronan, Adam put a little effort into the photo, shifting his head on his navy pillowcase until he found a good angle and smiled a little when he hit the shutter button. He looked at the photo briefly before he sent it to Ronan, and it surprised him that his facial hair wasn’t growing unevenly at all. One spot near his left ear was a little thinner than everywhere else, but his facial hair was an otherwise perfectly even layer half a shade lighter than the hair on his head.

Yet this did not stop Ronan from sending Adam a picture of a mangy dog instead of a selfie, followed by a single-worded message moments later. 

Shave. 

Usually, Adam left contrariness to Ronan, who had perfected the art of antagonism a long, long time ago. But something about the single-word reply irked Adam. It came across as a directive, an order, even though Ronan would never mean it that way, and it tightened Adam’s jaw, making it ache as well as itch. He closed out of the message and willfully ignored it the rest of the night and into the following morning, when he found himself in Walgreens to pick up a new tube of toothpaste. 

On his way through the store to the register, Adam didn’t avoid the shaving aisle and instead paused in front of the cans of shaving cream for a long minute. He stared down the red, white, and blue cans of Barbasol, and leered at the far fancier cream-and-navy Aveeno Therapeutic Shave Gel. 

Shave. 

It seemed like only yesterday they’d made up in the sweetmetal sea, where the two of them had intertwined and recounted their rights and wrongs, made their admissions and their apologies. And Adam wasn’t mad at Ronan. A year or two ago, he would have been, and receiving a photo of a scabby, patchy-haired dog would have sent them straight into a fight. Now, Adam well understood it was Ronan being Ronan, which meant he was being a dick despite the fact he loved Adam. So Adam wasn’t mad, but he was a little peeved. 

Just peeved enough to be petty. 

He turned away from the myriad shaving creams and shaving balms and aftershaves and headed to the front of the store to buy his single tube of toothpaste. Then he walked back to campus, let himself into his dorm, and — wastefully — threw away the last of his razors. 

The next few weeks, neither of them brought up the beard thing. Once, Ronan asked if Adam got shaving cream and Adam indirectly answered that he’d gone to the drugstore. However Ronan interpreted that was up to him, but he didn’t ask about it again, leaving Adam to assume he’d interpreted the response as a positive toward Team Shave. They exchanged photos but no selfies, simply snapshots of tangled roots obstructing a ley line or reawakened Rockefeller beetles crossing Harvard Square in a tidy single-file. And when they talked, Adam did everything he could to keep his hands away from his face, even going so far as sitting on his hands after putting Ronan on speaker. 

Finally, in the fourth week of not shaving, the itching waned, and when Adam looked in the mirror, the hair on his face had definitively turned into a beard. Thick, blond hair covered his jawline and chin and it crept toward his cheeks and down his neck. A full mustache crossed his upper lip, and the space between his bottom lip and chin had filled in almost completely without bare spots beneath the corners of his lips he’d seen on other men. All together, it served to make him look far older than nineteen. Wiser. A little mysterious. Rough and rugged and a little unkempt — something he’d never been before — like he’d been put through the wringer. 

In a lot of ways, he had. 

And the worst — but probably easiest and most bearable — wringer was yet to come, because as spring break loomed ever closer, Ronan reminded Adam of the plans they’d made long before Adam had returned to Cambridge. “You’re still coming to the Barns, right?” 

“Yeah,” Adam told him. It wouldn’t be like last summer, when the Lynch family farm had been paradise for Adam and Ronan. Mór Ó Corra and the New Fenian would probably be there if Ronan didn’t force them out of the place for a few days — for entirely selfish reasons, Adam hoped he would — but Adam would never turn down the chance to go back to the Barns. To go home, though that location constantly changed depending on where Ronan was any given day. “My last midterm is Thursday and I’ll ride down Friday.”

“You’re taking the bike instead of the shitbox? Are you gonna return the favor?” 

“I’m planning on it.” 

Adam could hear the devil of Ronan’s smirk when he said, “Good.” 

Midterms raced by despite long nights, long papers, and long exams, and Adam cleanly survived them. He even thought about leaving for the Barns on Thursday night until he remembered his journey back from Virginia on his dreamt motorcycle. Exhaustion on that ride had done him no favors despite having a lot to think about, and he’d rather get to the Barns in one piece than be scraped off the road somewhere in New Jersey. Catching up on sleep could wait until the Barns though, and Friday he woke with the sun so his wheels hit the road before rush hour, his new facial hair adding some padding and warmth beneath his helmet that hadn’t been there before. 

Nine hours later, when he turned up the Barns’ rutted driveway, Adam knew he’d find Ronan waiting for him on the farmhouse’s front porch. Probably leaning against the same pillar he’d leaned against the night of his birthday when Adam joined him outside and they’d kissed for the second time. Thoughts of that night, of getting his hands on Ronan again, of kissing him again carried Adam down the driveway, and when the woods opened up into the rolling fields of the farm, the first thing Adam saw was Ronan, a dark silhouette against the whitewashed house, leaning against the exact same pillar. 

Only the BMW occupied the gravel parking area in front of the house — Mór Ó Corra and the New Fenian presumably made to temporarily flee — and as Adam nuzzled his motorcycle next to Ronan’s recovered car, Ronan started his slow descent from the porch. 

The reckoning came as Adam slowly unbuckled the strap beneath his chin and lifted his helmet from his head, and he hadn’t fully freed himself of it when the crunch of gravel beneath Ronan’s boots stopped and Ronan said, “You shitbag. You said you got shaving cream.” 

“I said,” Adam started, pulling his helmet all the way off and setting it on the motorcycle’s seat before he looked at Ronan, “that I went to Walgreens.” 

Ten feet away, Ronan stood with his arms crossed over the front of his black zip-up hoodie, his pale blue eyes narrowed to slits as he looked at Adam. He looked no more indignant than normal with his lips pressed together in a thin line and the fingers of both hands curled into the sleeves of his sweatshirt, but for a long minute, he just looked, and Adam looked back. He wanted to close that ten feet between them — badly — and throw his arms around Ronan, get him close again, but Adam had lobbed the ball over the net by not picking up a razor in six weeks. It was Ronan’s turn to volley. 

And volley Ronan did. 

Throwing his arms down at his sides, he stalked across the gravel left between them and instead of pulling Adam into a hug, he took hold of Adam’s cheeks. “What the fuck, Parrish?” he growled, thumbs beginning to brush over Adam’s beard, from his cheeks down to his jaw, over and over again. 

For the first time in his life, Adam understood why cats and dogs liked being pet. All the tension from nine hours on a bike melted from his muscles as Ronan’s thumbs skimmed across his beard, and Adam almost closed his eyes and sighed. He didn’t, because he wanted to watch Ronan as his gaze traveled over Adam’s face, assessing his sideburns and mustache and neck line. Finally, Adam replied, “I thought it’d be funny. You pissed me off. With shave.” 

“You asshole,” Ronan said, thumbs stopping but still holding onto Adam’s face. “I didn’t mean it.” 

“I know.” Adam had always known. Things weren’t like that between them, except for when Ronan wanted them to be. “Do you like it?” 

“Yeah,” Ronan replied, nodding as a slow smile crept across his lips. “Yeah, I think I do.” 

“It’s not mangy.” 

Ronan laughed loud enough it echoed off the farmhouse and startled Chainsaw — perched on the porch railing — into flight, and as she soared circles overhead, Adam and Ronan wrapped their arms around one another and pulled each other close. 

“No, it’s not mangy, Parrish,” Ronan said, and just before he put his lips to Adams, he added, “It’s a damn nice beard.” 

[hollowed-theory-hall]

I've been reading your posts for awhile now and I genuinely enjoy reading your takes especially with Harry's characterization. so I've been wondering what are your thoughts on the lupin family? especially with teddy? although I still kinda dislike his parents' relationship i still think he's an interesting character and i wished people talked about him more outside of shipping. What would his relationship with harry be growing up? Also Lyall's death was never really confirmed, only hope's was so do you think he and Andromeda raised teddy instead of harry? It still feels odd that remus chose a 17 year old to be his son's godfather surely there were other suitable candidates than a literal teenager.

Thank you so much 💕

So, this is like entirely in my headcanon space since I did not watch/read Cursed Child and I'm not planning to. I don't consider any of the post-book material canon at all except the Quidditch World Cup in 2014, which I accept since it's fun and doesn't go out of its way to ruin established characters. I enjoyed reading it more than the epilogue, so that's something.

That being said, I often prefer to ignore many aspects of the epilogue and the World Cup article when headcanoning post-books events. I also don't engage much with next-gen stuff since I'm more interested in Harry's generation, but I do have some thoughts about Teddy.

With all this out of the way, let's talk about the Lupins.

So, I like Remadora, I think they're alright for the little we see of them. Tonks just deserves so much better than Lupin in my mind. I mean, he wanted to leave her, after he got her pregnant, for his own sense of inadequacy, guilt, and allergy to taking responsibility. Harry was so justified in ripping Remus a new one.

Now, I mentioned here, how I think Remus didn't make Harry Teddy's godfather because he thought Harry was ready (though Harry is more mature and responsible at 17 than Remus is at 37, so...), but as a way to promise Harry that he isn't going to push him, or Tonks, or anyone who loves him away anymore. It was Remus trying to apologize in a weird way that didn't really land. Especially since he goes and dies right after. (can you tell Remus is my least favorite marauder?)

Now, I find it really hard to imagine Remus as a father for Teddy had he lived. Like, I can see Tonks being a cool mom and her and Teddy matching hair colors when walking together and messing with people (and I think she could become more responsible had she lived longer). Remus is a harder one for me to envision as a parent. I mean, I think he'd be relieved that Teddy wasn't born a werewolf, but whenever he'd look at Teddy and Nymphadora, I think Remus couldn't help but feel sorry for himself and like he doesn't deserve them. While making Harry Teddy's godfather was meant to be a sort of promise, I can't see Remus fixing his habits so quickly. I mean, he'd try. But I can also see him, trying to up and leave a few times only to be talked out of it by various characters.

I think his behavior is going to put a lot of stress on Tonks too. Like, While I think they do love each other, I don't know how well their relationship would work in the long run if Remus doesn't bother to work on himself and get his fucking act together.

But in the books they both died, so Teddy is spared the mess his parents' relationship likely would've been and is instead stuck with a different mess of being an orphan with a 17-year-old caretaker. (This kid cannot win. Maybe because both his parents were kinda irresponsible and didn't quite get a grasp on adulthood when he was born)

So, post-DH, Remus and Tonks are dead, Ted Tonks is dead and we are left with a grieving Andromeda who lost all her family (again), a grieving Harry who just keeps losing people, and a newly orphaned barely a-year-old Teddy Lupin.

I think Teddy is an interesting mirror to baby Harry and Neville in a way. His parents died/couldn't take care of him because of Voldemort/his followers and he was left with only a godfather/grandmother. Teddy got both and his godfather isn't in Azkaban, so he has it a little better.

I like to imagine Harry makes sure to be super involved with Teddy's childhood, but I can't imagine a 17-year-old (almost 18) Harry post-war and maybe going back to Hogwarts for 8th year (depends on headcanon) being in a state to take care of a baby full time. I like to think Andy helps out in that first year a lot. I think Andy needs someone, some family to get her through loss. And I think Harry could enjoy Andy's company too. I'm sure she has plenty of stories about a young Sirius, and maybe even a young James, and in my headcanon, Andy somewhat adopts Harry as an extra son too.

Which means she ends up seeing way more Weasleys than she ever expected to. I think the Weasleys, who just lost Fred would understand a lot. I mean, both Andy and Molly lost a child and other family. I want Andromeda be more involved with all of them post-canon. That's my wish.

So Harry is Teddy's official guardian, but he spends loads of time with his grandma and the Weasleys growing up probably. Like, I don't mind him and Victoire being together, though I wouldn't necessarily have been my preferred choice, but I don't really care. They're probably childhood besties because they grew up together.

As for Teddy's relationship with Harry, I think Harry would end up treating him more like a much younger brother than a son. I mean, when Teddy would be 10, Harry would just be 27. Don't get me wrong, Harry could, technically, be his dad, but I think their dynamic is going to be different than that of Harry with his own children. Just because of how young and traumatized Harry is when he gets Teddy.

So, I think their relationship would have its tense points, but they'd also love each other. Like, you know Harry would do his best. He'd be super protective over Teddy, Andy would be, too. Like, no one messes with this kid.

But I also kinda want Teddy making a: "you're not my dad" joke/comment when Harry tries to send him to his room or something and Harry doesn't know if he wants to laugh or cry the first time it happens. But I think it would become a recurring joke Harry laughs from.

I think the first years would be the roughest. Everyone's grieving and trying to settle back into a semblance of normal life. Harry never really had a "normal life" he's gonna have no idea what to do with himself and I think Teddy could be a purpose he dedicates himself to. I think these two and Andy could all help each other figure their lives out. But as Teddy grows older and things settle down, it becomes easier.

While I think Harry and Teddy would end up really close, it's not going to be exactly the same relationship Harry and Sirius had. Teddy is going to have a happy childhood, Harry and Andy wouldn't let it be any other way, so he won't have the same grief and trauma Harry did as a child. Like, their dynamic would be less desperate, I think. Like, Harry wouldn't need to stay in a cave and eat rats for Teddy, their situation would be way chiller. Like, I think Harry would be constantly confused about how Teddy ended up being such a cool kid/teen because he doesn't think he could've raised him like that and he would joke about it with Teddy who'd be all sarcastic like: "Obviously, I raised myself here,"

Like, I imagine Teddy with his mother's punk fashion sense and goofiness (the goofiness I believe was 100% shared by Ted Tonks), Remus' voice and constant self-doubt, Andromeda's posture (he sits with his back perfectly straight, okay, Andy didn't let him slouch by the table), and Harry's sarcasm. He's like this mix of them and still his own person.

I think Teddy is likely to go through quite a lot of personal phases to try and figure out his own identity and how he portrays himself. Becouse everyone treats him as the godson of the famed boy who lived, but his dead parents were the last Metamorphmagus and a Werewolf. And he is very close to his grandma, who is a disowned daughter of House Black. Like, this is a kid rip for angst about who he is and who people see him as and him being a Metamorphmagus really leans into it.

Like, a young Teddy making sure to look like Harry in public because he's proud of the connection. Or Teddy mimicking Remus or Tonks' appearance from photos when he thinks about them and misses them or wants to remind strangers who his parents actually are becouse they seem to forget. Like, that could be super fun.

I think Harry's kids would really like Teddy. He's like a cool older cousin/brother who lives with them. Like, I can see them really looking up to him and Teddy would complain to Harry about being followed around by a 3-year-old that won't leave him alone and Harry would just find the whole thing amusing.

(I can also see a post-war Andromeda getting back in touch with Narcissa, so you could involve the Malfoys too if you felt like it. Though I feel like Teddy would just, not like Lucius much)

(Also also, I think Lyall is dead. I feel like if he was alive we would know, yk?)

[zykamiliah]

guys. guys the loser shut-in is airplane. he calls himself one in the text

The more he wrote, the more of a shut-in he became, and the more of a shut-in he became, the more he wrote. As a classic worthless otaku, the people with whom he had the best relationships and got along with most were all on the internet, oceans and seas apart. ch.26 airplane extra

sqq wanted to go out and explore shuang hu city all the way back in chapter 2, and the system didn't let him because it would be ooc.

At the same time, how could he not want to go out and play? Up until now, he’d been hunkered down inside Qing Jing Peak’s Bamboo House, forced to fake being an awesome master of arts and literature, meaning everything he did had to be done “blandly” (...) What a damn pain! And now when he finally got a break to take a trip down the mountain, he was still trapped in his room because of the System’s stance that “the original Shen Qingqiu liked quiet and would be unwilling to mingle.” Shen Qingqiu didn’t even want to pretend to meditate, so he lay on the bed, just pretending to be dead. Shortly before sunset, Ming Fan entered the room to deliver a report. Finally, someone had come to talk to him—to keep him company. Shen Qingqiu couldn’t help but want to weep for joy. ch.2 mission

this man doesn't like being alone, or shut-in for even short periods of time. if he goes to somewhere knew, he likes to explore!

sqq was also traveling the jianghu even when he was depressed post abyss. yeah yeah he spent a concerning amount of time kneeling at the sword mound, but he didn't spent a lot of time at the sect per se, because everything reminded him of binghe, so he was just-- going out, seeing the world.

Shen Qingqiu lifted the teacup by his hand and scraped at the tea leaves on the surface. “Zhao Hua Monastery is nearest to Jin Lan City, and my impression was that they share a very close relationship. If something did happen, the masters at the temple would have realized something was wrong.” ch.6 jin lan

he was away from the sect all the time, to the point yqy had sent lqg to keep an eye on him, and sqq and lqg have this exchange at the start of the succubi extra, indicative that sqq likely just stopped by the sect when he had to receive treatment for without a cure

“Are you heading back or not?” Liu Qingge interrupted. “After I take care of this support ticket—ah, I mean, after I take care of those succubi, I’ll head back.” “You said that last time too.” “Mm.” “And then you vanished for a month!” “Shixiong won’t die out here. Every time Without a Cure acts up, don’t I always return to Cang Qiong Mountain to look for you? Shidi doesn’t need to go out of his way to chase after me…” ch.23 succubi extra

the only reason he has to stay at home is binghe and when they can't spend that time being all married and papapaing sqq gets restlesss, he NEEDS to occupy his time with something else, like being a teacher

As they say, the greatest form of solitude is solitude within a city. Thus they settled in an especially prosperous town. While Luo Binghe was repairing his martial aspect, they would take up residence there to pass the time. Shen Qingqiu soon got so bored that his bones began to itch, so he casually took up work at the largest academy in the city. ch.28 return to childhood

tl,dr: just like airplane was a shut-in and a bit of a misandrist, lbh and sj were like that too. but sqq is not like that. he likes going out, doing stuff and spending time with other people. from this we can infer he was like that in his previous life too

"Shen Yuan was a loser gooner shut in during his first life" Shen Qingqiu used to be hated by his fellow peak lords until Shen Yuan transmigrated into his body, so it was solely his personality that was so charming people went to war over his corpse. Please be serious

[sylvan-librarian]

RE: Nissa’s Retcon

* * *

About once a month, I get a comment on one of my posts saying something along these lines

“Uhhh, you left out the part where Nissa was a fascist!”

“Nissa was more interesting as an elf-supremacist, imo.”

To be perfectly frank, I think both of these points are stupid and not worth my time, but just to give these posters the benefit of the doubt, I’ll assume they mean well and respond to them, once and for all, this way:

To address the first point, you’re right: in my posts celebrating Nissa and the journeys she has taken, I do tend to leave out material that was retconned. This isn’t entirely true, however, as I wrote an entire essay about this on my Tumblr page, which I doubt people slipping into my comments to post “gotcha!” have bothered to read. But anyway, to assume the best of these posters, let’s take a brief look at this retcon. Outside of a few brief blurbs in the “Duels of the Planeswalkers” video game and her 2009-era character description on Magic’s website, the “racist Nissa” characterization comes entirely from the In the Teeth of Akoum novel from 2010. And yes! In this book, Nissa is a hilariously stupid racist (frighteningly like real racists, imo). However, many aspects of this book were retconned in Nissa’s Magic Origins reboot. To note, in the 2010 novel, Nissa has no idea what the fuck Akoum even is and lets herself get led there by Sorin and Anowon. In the reboot, we learn that, among many other changes, she went to Akoum previously in her life, as that journey is what led to her sparking. Either way, post-Origins, many aspects of Teeth are questionably accurate at best. It’s quite safe to assume that with how horrified Nissa is when she sees Lorwyn elves hunting goblin children for sport that that particular aspect of Nissa’s personality (white supremacy) is no longer a part of her characterization.

For the second point, this one is just crazy, man. I don’t know y’all come up with this stuff. I don’t even know how to address this politely. Keep in mind that I am not by any stretch saying that Nissa is now a perfect cinnamon roll that never did anything wrong ever. Nissa is at fault for not trusting Sorin and setting the Eldrazi free. This is a decision that forever will, and should, haunt her. In the newer lore, she still distrusts vampires and outsiders in her youth because of how she was raised, and this is wrong of her. But Nissa does not distrust them because she thinks she is somehow morally superior to them by nature of birth. Nissa was raised as a member of the Joraga nation. The Joraga, as even the most basic of searches into the Magic wiki tells us, “eschewed outsiders and held even the other elves of Zendikar in disdain.” Nissa carries this distrust of outsiders with her into her adult life and doesn’t really learn to let go of this until she meets the Gatewatch and learns to expand her horizons. And again, Nissa was wrong for this xenophobia. But don’t get it twisted: there is still a big difference between fear and distrust of outsiders and fascist, ‘hierarchy of races’ bullshit. Both are rooted in fear, but for all her many shortcomings, the retconned Nissa of the new lore would never advocate for elves ruling the multiverse at the top of a racial hierarchy like the older Nissa would (and did). This is hammered home in her Origin story where she is horrified by watching Dwynen lead other Lorwyn elves as they slaughter entire tribes because they think it's funny. Furthermore, on the subject of Lorwyn elves, I would argue that old Nissa is fairly boring as a villain, as “racist elves” as a concept was already explored in depth in the Lorwyn stories. An entire planeswalker with that as her bit would get boring very quickly.

Lastly, and I suppose this is subjective, but isn’t a nuanced character, deeply flawed but trying her best to shed the xenophobia ingrained in her more interesting that an unrepentant, racist dumbass learning that “goblins are people actually!” only after she condemned an entire world to death? The latter might be (darkly) funnier, I’ll give you that, but the former makes for a much more interesting and emotionally satisfying narrative arc.

[jackactuallywrites]

All Seeing, All Knowing, All Loving part 15

Warnings: None

Summary: You find a pretty dress in a charity shop! And who you gonna show it to? Hmmm

Word Count

ao3 link

It had been a productive day of shopping. Of course, your initial plan hadn’t actually been to buy anything; you were only supposed to go there to look at things, touch some nice textures, have a drink and something sweet, and then go home. But you hadn’t planned on the dress.

Why such a beautiful dress was stuffed in the back of an Oxfam was beyond you. It looked as though it had come from some royal princess, all expensive black satin, with an off-the-shoulder neckline and a full skirt. Destiny clearly had a hand in things, as not only was it in your size, but it was also under a hundred pounds. It was still a little expensive, more than you would have considered spending on a normal dress, but there was something special about it. It was giving vintage Christian Dior- the new look. It wasn’t actually one of his gowns; of course, that would have been too lucky, but that didn’t make it any less beautiful.

“Buy it.” Katie was very certain in her opinion of the dress, “Buy it, and then get fucked in it.”

“Can’t I just wear it?”

She shrugged, “I mean if you want to be boring, sure. But a dress like that deserves an event, an occasion, you know? Something special.”

You gave it a little twirl on the hanger, watching the skirt billow, “I don’t think I have an occasion that’s good enough for a dress like this. It’s not like I’m invited to Buckingham Palace.”

Katie snorted, “Place is full of nonces and cunts anyways, why would you want to go there?”

You snorted, “Alright, fair point. If I was to go to, uh,” you couldn’t really think of a fancy event you could feasibly go to, “yeah, no, I’m not posh enough for this dress.”

Katie took the dress from you, walking away so quickly that you didn’t have time to stop her. She went straight to the counter, where she plopped it down, already taking her card out to buy it. You protested, “Kate, come on, it’s too much.”

The woman at the counter raised an eyebrow, and Kate rolled her eyes, “Don’t pay attention to her. I’m buying this. Could you find us a bag or something to put it in, please?” The woman clearly didn’t care about your little disagreement; after all, she was in customer service; no doubt she had developed the ability to ignore all sorts of shit. She just held out the card reader for Katie to tap her card on, which she did, and then went off into the back to pack the dress into a bag.

“Kate, how am I possibly supposed to repay you for this?”

Katie rolled her eyes at you, “You know that’s not the point of friendship, right? We’ve never been the type to obsess over who owes who. You bought me coffee, I bought you a dress. Who cares?”

That was how it went with her. She worked hard, and she scrimped and saved on other aspects of her life so she could spend frivolously when she liked. A wonderful trait, really; she was generous and kind, but it had always bugged you that you could never repay her generosity the same way.

Soon enough, the woman returned with an old paper Primark bag, in which she had carefully folded the dress up and put it inside. The contrast was kind of funny. Katie picked up the bag and balanced the thin paper straps on her arm, then walked out of the shop, leaving you to quickly walk after her.

It was hard to wander around the shops after that; you had something truly decadent in your bag, expensive and wonderful, and it was hard to not cradle it to your chest like a baby at every moment, terrified that if you put it down for even a second, it would be stolen. You didn’t even dare eat near it, terrified that you’d get some sort of icing or crumb on it and ruin the fabric. Katie bought you a plastic bag just so you could double bag it for safety, and then you finally allowed yourself to eat some cake.

When Katie had finally gotten on the bus home, you texted Ghost.

‘You: You still want to give me a lift?’

It didn’t take long for him to text back.

‘Ghost: Where are you?’

You took a picture of the cafe you were sitting outside and sent it to him.

‘You: (image) You know this place?’

‘Ghost: Will be there soon. ETA 15 minutes.’

He didn’t fuck about. You took a seat on a nearby concrete planter and waited.

It didn’t take long for him to turn up, fourteen minutes later, in his little black car. You could see that he wasn’t wearing his usual balaclava. Instead, he was wearing a black surgical mask and a pair of sunglasses. Subtle.

You opened the passenger side door, and were greeted by the intoxicating smell of his cologne, as well as the quiet thumping bass of house music. It sounded like a 90s rave. You took a seat, placing your bags in the footwell and pulling the door closed behind you. Then, you turned to Ghost, your eyes flicking over the dark bruises that still littered his face. Perhaps that was why he’d chosen to wear a mask and sunglasses.

“Had a nice day?” He questioned.

You nodded, “Yeah, pretty decent. You been up to much?”

Ghost shrugged as he put the car into gear, and you put on your seatbelt, choosing not to pry.

The question came out regardless.

“So what did you do today?”

“Bit of this, bit of that.”

“You always so secretive?”

He snorted, “Part of the job.”

“Ah, right, SAS stuff.”

“Not interesting, really. Tell me about your day.”

You weren’t sure how interested Ghost was in the intricacies of shopping, but you regaled him with your day regardless, and he was nice enough to ask further questions about what you had for lunch and if you got anything from Boots. Considering the bizarre circumstances under which you’d met him, the conversation was strangely normal, just two people chit-chatting about a day. You kept the conversation going right up to your front door, “You have to see this dress I got. I swear, I’ve never seen anything so beautiful in my life.”

“You look in a mirror every day, don’t you?”

You snorted as you opened your door, “My God. Are you made of sugar?”

“You can taste me if you like.”

That made you cackle, and you dumped your bags on the counter, “Terrible.”

Your fingers trailed over the plastic bag that contained the dress, and you looked at Ghost curiously, “Want to see the dress?”

“Of course.”

Very carefully, you undid the plastic bag and then took the paper bag out, reaching in to take the dress out, the beautiful garment still on the padded hanger. You shook it out with a flourish, “Look! Isn’t it gorgeous?”

“I’d have to see it on.”

You weren’t sure if that was a subtle way to get you out of your clothes, but you did want an excuse to get into the dress.

“Wait here.”

The dress was surprisingly annoying to get into. Satin didn’t have much give, so you had to wiggle to get it around your thighs, terrified that you’d pull too hard and rip the fabric. Now, you were faced with a different problem. The zip was annoying to get to, you had to twist to get it, and the damn thing was so small and delicate it was constantly slipping out of your fingers. You probably could have done it yourself, but then an interesting idea came to mind. You held the dress tight to your chest, covering your bare chest with the fabric, your back fully exposed to the air. Was your underwear visible at the very bottom of the open zipper? You hoped so.

You walked back into the living room, wearing only your knickers and a half-zipped-up dress. Ghost was in the kitchen, apparently making himself tea, seemingly very at home. “I need your help.”

He turned around slowly, tea in hand, his mask and sunglasses off, “What d’you-“ his voice faded as he took in the sight of you, and a slow smile spread over his bruised and battered face. “You need my help with that?”

You turned around, showing him your back, “I need you to zip me up.”

You felt exposed like this, your back turned to him, waiting awkwardly in the dim light of your room, unable to see what he was thinking.

Then, the quiet sound of footsteps on the carpet as he walked over to you and the hairs on the back of your neck prickled as you felt his presence behind you. His fingers brushed against your back as you felt him pull the fabric together, goosebumps prickling over your exposed skin as he slowly began to pull the zipper upwards. About halfway up, he paused to brush the hair off the nape of your neck, his fingers soft and gentle against your skin, letting your hair softly fall over your collarbone. His fingers paused there for a moment, taking a long, meandering path from the tip of your shoulder blade across to your spine and then straight down your back until he met with the zipper again.

A subtle shiver went through the length of your body. Christ. A single touch from the man, and you were ready to throw him into your bed. This was supposed to be you teasing him! The zip went up swiftly until the dress was pulled snugly around your body, with Ghost fastening the clasp at the back. You very quickly took a step forward away from him, needing to put a little space in between the two of you before you tried to jump his bones. The dress swooshed as you moved, a good distraction from the sheer desire coursing through your veins, and you decided to do a little spin, watching the fabric twirl out around you.

“How does it feel?” Ghost asked.

It felt like you wanted to ride him, but you didn’t verbalise that. Instead, you just smiled and brushed the fabric out, “Fancy. Might need a petticoat to really poof out the skirt, though.”

When you looked at Ghost, you could see how large his pupils were, like a cat about to pounce, his jaw tense. He looked agitated. You smiled at him, swishing the dress side to side, “What do you think?”

Ghost cleared his throat, “Think you need someplace to wear it.”

You sighed, “Well yeah, but I don’t have anywhere that calls for a dress like this.”

“I might.”

That got a raised brow from you, and you looked at him curiously, “Really? I can’t see you in a suit.”

The corners of his lips pulled up in a slight smile, “I’ve been known to wear one. When duty calls.”

“Duty calls for you to wear a suit?”

“Soldiers have dos. Occasionally.”

You tilted your head at him, “You inviting me to a fancy soldiers party as your date?”

Ghost reached out for your hand, placing his other hand on top of it, a silent, solemn promise, “The next time we have a proper mess dinner, I want you on my arm. In this dress.”

It was impossible not to smile at that, and you gave him a little mock curtsy, “I’d be delighted to.”

“So,” Ghost began, gently pulling on your hands to bring you closer to him, “You need help getting out of this dress?”

You put your hand out to keep some space between you, your fingers coming into contact with his chest. Even though there was the thick material of his black jumper between your hands and his skin, it was thrilling. Yet, you could see a slight tautness in Ghost’s jaw, a slight furrowing of his brows. Something was wrong.

“You alright?”

Ghost cleared his throat and took a step back from you, dropping your hand, “Yeah, no, I’m fine.” He ran his fingers through his hair, “I just, I should get going.”

He’d been trying to get you out of your dress, but now it seemed like he was trying to flee. You couldn’t figure out where things had gone wrong. He turned away from you to go to the kitchen to grab his mask and sunglasses from where he’d dumped them on the counter, covering his face up once again. He made a gesture for you to turn around when he returned to the living room, and you did so, turning your back to him. This time, he avoided touching your bare skin as he undid the clasp and pulled the zip halfway down, far enough down where you could do the rest easily.

You turned around to him, trying to scan him for any sort of upset, but it was impossible to read anything under the sunglasses and mask, probably by design. He reached out to touch your cheek, his fingers softly grazing against your skin, before he abruptly turned and left.

[sorry-not-feeling-it-right-now]

The Process of the Voices designs (inspired by @everestgale )

(If you’re seeing this, it means that all of the voices have their own references!)

So

Um

That was a big project

(Height lineup with current designs!!!!!)

(And apparently there was a limit to how many photos I can add per post on mobile so I had to work around the limit in order to be able to show you as much as possible. I’m sorry if the sketches have horrible quality ;^;)

Starting thought process

The first thing I had thought of when I had just stepped foot into the fandom space all the way back when the game was still new was to make each of the voices be represented by a different bird. I had never really drawn anything regarding to that idea, however.

But as Pristine Cut released, I had finally found the motivation to actually start designing the voices. Now the game is done, my thoughts process became “let’s just make the voices look vaguely bird-like without really basing them off of any bird type completely” to give myself a bit more freedom in designing them. Just a little leeway. TLQ is basically a mix between mammal and bird, so I thought I can probably continue this design aspect with the voices as well.

I had also challenged myself to not use any clothing items for any of the voices, cause TLQ isn’t really wearing anything in the first place, so I don’t really think the voices would spawn in with clothes already on their bodies.

With that said, let us continue to…

Terror and Longing (Paranoid and Cold)

Cold is the first ever one I had drawn, which is why he looked so “rough” and less shape like in my post for him. My thought process for him is pretty straightforward, and it’s just a reaper bird with a hole in his chest to symbolise the emptiness that can never be filled by normal means. His princess is a ghost, a lot of the chapter 3 routes that he’s in have princesses that are related to ghosts in some way, so to me it just makes sense for him to be a reaper. His body is basically just a big ol’ blanket. A cold one, but a blanket nonetheless. You can quite literally go inside him like he’s some sort of blanket tent.

Also I’m gonna semi-retcon the “Physical form gained with the leave ending” part of the notes. He and the rest of the voices already looks like this even before they gain their physical form, albeit much more shadowy and without actual line art.

Unlike most of the voice designs here, there really aren’t any visual elements that connects Paranoid and Cold together as parallels on how they view pain. Mainly because I mostly designed Paranoid solely on his overall “vibes” as a character. In my concept sketches, he looked more like a spindly exposed nerve noodle than how he is now. I do intend to give him a minor redesign in the future so that he could match better with Cold, however.

But in a way it kinda worked out for me, as Nightmare and Paranoid are basically just creepy delicate doll + goofy sock puppet, which is kind of funny to me

Now looking back, it would have been perfect to name the post as “Bones and Nerves” if I had decided to post them in paired at the very beginning.

Skepticism and Blind Devotion (Skeptic and Smitten)

(^^^Cloaked/Detective Skeptic design and Caged Head Skeptic design belongs to @/remaking-machine and @/bubblybloob respectively. Mainly drew them for inspiration and get my gears going)

When I had first sketched Smitten, I knew that I wanted him to have a big chest and to have an overwhelming presence, to show that Smitten thinks with his heart instead of actually seeing what’s in front of him (hence the small round puppy eyes that he closes most of the time). He’s delulu and I love him for that <3

But then a thought just came to me like “hey, wouldn’t it be really funny if his chest is like, 80% of his whole body?”, and so I listened because god damn it it’s so funny that I CAN-NOT NOT listen to that (and I was so delighted to see most of the tags were pointing out the size of his bosom. Funniest thing ever). Smitten is top-heavy, which kinda symbolise how Smitten is a pretty “head-in-the-clouds” sort of guy, where his heart/chest make him look like it’s gonna take flight with him, flying up like a balloon

(Unfortunately the ratio of his chest and body became a lot more balanced again the more I draw him, since I realised that it’s harder for me to draw his chest fluff consistently.)

As for Skeptic, I wanted him to parallel Smitten regarding their physical appearances. And hence, Skeptic has sharper, bigger eyes, smaller body with huge wings to cover himself up, which contrasts with Smitten’s round, smaller eyes, with a big body revealing his heart to the world and small wings to “guard” himself with. His big wings being a play on “the truth sets you free”, but it clearly becomes more of a burden as he continuously tries and push onward and makes things more complicated then it should be, like how he does in Cage. (Fun fact, the bigger the wings the harder it is to swim)

Originally I wanted Skeptic’s design to look like a blob of smoke/shadow with little to no clear defined features except for his face, or just a bunch of lines like those line creature thingies from the animated movie Soul, but it later didn’t really click for me when I compare him with the other designs I have made (it’s kinda boring looking), so I’ve made a slight redesign to give him a more defined body structure, since I don’t think he needs that shadowy unreadable body when he already has his big wings to protect himself with.

(You might not have noticed this, but Smitten and Skeptic are the only two that have their full bodies drawn in the same panel, while the rest of the pairs have them be separated in two different panels. I just decided to keep it that way, since I thought it was funny that these two have never met face to face with each other in game, but here they are the only ones drawn together)

Consumption and Betrayal (Hunted and Opportunist)

Ahhhh Oppy

I immediately knew what I wanted to do with this slimy bastard, and that is making him a fox.

Part of me really really really want to make him cat-themed so that not only does he match well with Witch, but to also hit the pun for “cat-fight” for the dance of infinite tricks between the two. But a fox fits him as well, as foxes and cats do not seem to like each other. Oppy still being a bird while making himself look like a stereotypical scheming predator also makes for good symbolism for how he hides his vulnerability behind his many masks. His creepy smile was inspired by how he looked in PatD while he was controlling TLQ’s body.

I also gave him a longer neck, so that he could look farther away. I just think a long neck fits him.

(He doesn’t tell anyone this, but he feels more comfortable walking on all fours. He’s just accustomed to walk on two legs to make himself look slightly bigger, since he’s already on the shorter/cuter side)

As for Hunted, my first thought for him is to make him big and nimble-looking, but I had decided that I’m gonna be the contrarian and go the other direction that isn’t my first thought, settling down with a smaller, cuter looking Hunted then what I had first envisioned, as you can see with the first paper sketches of him being a small little creature

I wanted him to scream “prey”, and to further contrast him with Beast, who became bigger than what she had started with. That’s a big part of why I had decided against the longer design despite a part of me really liking the idea.

(Since Hunted is not only a bird, but is also a rabbit and a rat thingy, in which all three are prey animals. Does that make him prey-squared)

Rivalry and Submission (Stubborn and Broken)

Stubborn’s design is pretty straight forward, as I’ve already have a clear image of what he looks like in my head. I was worried that he might look too human-like, but I guess my worries were all for nothing cause he turned out quite monstrous. Decided to make him have big arms to make him look even heavier and much more of a hard hitter.

His design was inspired by multiple things, being a demon, a dragon(both the demon and dragon part are here to tie his route with Adversary and to parallel Broken), a roaster and a bull, while also keeping the bird-like elements. Out of everyone, he was probably the hardest to draw on digital aside from Smitten when I had first started drawing them. I am not good at drawing big men.

The bull/horns part came later while I was creating my design for him, and you can see that I was trying to take inspiration from All Might of all people to give Stubborn those two little thingies on top of his head. I did not like the V shaped tuffs and settled for horns instead simply because it looks cooler. It then just created this demon-angel connection with Stubborn and Broken, and I liked it so much that I decided to just go with it

Broken’s design had actually evolved a long way from his first conceptualisation. Originally he was just a bunch of broken glass shards that vaguely forms into an image of a person. But then I realised it’ll be too hard to draw over and over, so I redesigned him into more of a sad lump instead. Really happy about my decision.

He’s mostly round in shape language until he decides to stand up straight, which makes him look more regal and “angelic”. His eyes and beak have that sharp edge to them to show that he still has the capacity to bite back if he wanted to. The crack on his eye was meant to make him look like he’s crying instead of a scar to be proud of like how Stubborn’s scar reads, making him a weeping angel.

(Looking back on it, he kinda look like a melted candle)

Pain and Unfamiliarity (Cheated and Contrarian)

Oooooh boy, I have a lot of things to say about these two

I have tired sketching Contrarian’s design out many many times, and many of them weren’t able to hit the exact spot(which is kind of ironic, cause it’s Contrarian that I was designing(he also deserved his own spread sheet of sketches, cause there was so so much of it))

These ideas include—making him the only one with white feathers, having an odd number of limbs, making him look like a twisting messy arrow, making him look like a Picasso art piece, taking annoying character design do-nots and then putting all of it onto his design just to be annoying(aka very crowded and unreadable designs where you don’t even know what you’re looking at anymore), making him into a regular bird simply because it would be really funny, giving him more then one singular head etc (also, that little Jester imp design I’ve drawn to de-stress was made by @/itsonlypolite . Thank you for the design absnsjaj)

It was until I had decided to take a break from designing him that I had finally figured out what I really wanted for him. I reminded myself that I wanted his design to be simplistic enough so that it would be easy to draw, so I had returned to the basics for him, which back then was just a simple fluffy bird noodle, and then things went a bit more smoothly after that.

I took inspiration from Discord’s design from MLP and made Contrarian have body parts that corresponds to the other voices. After all, what is a Contrarian without anyone to contrast with?

I also designed his head wings to give the illusion of a jester hat. Unlike the rest of the voices, he doesn’t have wings on his back, the one place that a pair of wings should be at anatomically speaking, simply because it would be funny. He does have a pair of wings on his butt though.

And the more I designed him, the more clear I was for the theming for Contra and Cheated, which is basically a Jester and the unfortunate person who got picked for the Jester’s practicing of magic tricks. And the person is just trying not to get hit by the throwing knifes.

As for Cheated, I also had trouble coming up with a design for him. Unlike Contrarian, whom I had too many ideas that I didn’t know where to go from there, he had way too little sketches and ideas. I already knew that I wanted him to look like he had been ripped apart to compliment Razor, but I had never tried to sketch him out until almost all of the other designs were complete. Then I had started to try and relate his character design with game elements, since both Contrarian and Cheated are basically meta for the player mentality, and I eventually came up with him having a Paper sort of texture. Not only does it relate back to paper cards, it also shows that he could never win against Razor, cause Scissors beat Paper no matter how you try (and Narrator is the Rock no one wants)

(That would make him and Razor’s ship name be PaperCut. That’s so cute actually)

At one point of the process, a part of me wanted him to look like a rabbit to fit the whole magic thing, but eventually decided against it due to not wanting him to overlap with Hunted, who already has a rabbit theme. So I’ve turned my attention elsewhere.

The inspiration for his design are mainly origami birds, since I wanted to give him an illusion that he was made out of paper cards to fit with the game theme. His silhouette, much like Contrarian, is not symmetrical at all. But instead of having the different parts be mashed together harmoniously in a weird way like Contrarian, his body is just a mess, with him sticking his body back into place over and over again. I’d imagine that his body was sewn together with paper with different textures(he gets even messier in Razor!!!).

With him being paper themed, it also gave me the opportunity to hide small jokes in his design and just go wild with the puns. A part of me felt like that would be a tad bit too cruel for him. He’s been through enough… but then again… paper puns. (Call me Razor cause I’m just having fun torturing him)

At the Heart of it all… (Narrator and Hero)

Hero is actually one of the easier ones for me to design, considering I’ve already decided that he is going to look the most human out of all of the other voices. I designed him with the image of a harpy and some of the fandom’s interpretation of TLQ at the back of my mind. Since I made these designs with the Pristine Cut being out, I had referenced his appearance from what the Pristine Cut trailer has shown of TLQ, which is a lot more human-like.

Hero is basically a smaller and less intimidating looking version of TLQ, since he is what TLQ wishes he was. A Hero. He’s probably what TLQ imagined himself to look like when he still didn’t know his own appearance, and imagined himself to look less intimidating, much like how the fandom in the early days imagined TLQ to be like before Pristine Cut. It’s a bit meta, but I think it works.

I had considered giving him a helmet, but then decided against it for two reasons:

One, I don’t want to break the rule that I had set for myself, which is to not give any of the voices clothing items(acceptable to give them the illusion of clothes, however)

And two, him not having the helmet, the symbol of knighthood and heroism, shows that he is unsure of his heroism, and is usually unsure of his decisions and what should be considered as “the right thing to do”

Narrator on the other hand look basically the same as the other interpretations of him. I had actually considered giving him an alternative design, where he is a well-dressed man with a crow mask covering his head, holding a scroll in his hand.

But I decided that the symbolic meaning of a mortal man losing all semblance of humanity after his death, and the gods he had trapped have become more human then he is much more fitting (and ironic). So now he’s just a bird with a scroll.

Author on the other hand, I decided to keep his head in the shadow and keep it as a vague silhouette, while the rest of his body is still somewhat visible. I designed a version where he’s got his face uncovered, but I later decided that it’s more fun with Author’s faces being inconsistent every time I draw him, mainly because Narry probably doesn’t even remember how he had looked like when he was still alive. These sketches are probably vague recollections of what Narry believed he looked like, so each of the faces look a little different from each other. He will be the only one without a solid reference.

I wanted Author to have tired sad-looking eyes, and so his eyes are one of the few consistent things about him. Aside from the eyes, his two hair tuffs and his glasses are still gonna be a part of his design, but will probably look slightly different every time his face was drawn. So there’s that.

Annnnnd that’s about it for my rambling! Thank you all for sticking around till the finishing of this project ^^ (and reading all of this till the end holy hell I’ve typed so much)

And oh boy this took me a while to make, I was literally making this post at the same time as I was drawing the references. It kinda made the journey a little less intimidating for me hehe

[kyleemclauren]

The idea of a "patient-led" hospital is an idea from the mad pride movement. The idea is that patients vote on each other's confinement & general diagnosis, in most incarnations alongside the nurses and physicians. It acknowledges that sometimes someone does need to be kept safe from themselves or others, but that retaining this control under lock and key of any kind of centralized hierarchy is potentially dangerous - The patients can let each other out. I have been hospitalized involuntarily with bipolar one episodes, the carceral tradeoffs of the system are fair, as far as I am concerned. It was good that I was kept in a confined situation for the duration of my episodes, it was bad that I had to navigate a corrupt and perilous system to be released. I'm not worried about the technical label of prison or not when I'm always being offered a fair and open exchange for freedom.

For the purposes of a brief "get this person out of a situation", the sort of thing that would normally be handled by "the drunk tank" or similar, this is a principled way to enact a 24-72 hour hold without subjecting the person to the arbitrary authority of an officer; (separate reforms exist here re: officer authority, outside the scope of this post.) This person is likely experiencing some kind of mental health crisis in many of these situations, being emotionally overwhelmed and losing your shit is a mental health problem.

For longer term situations, this comes up frequently in the setting of parole requirements, and regular checkins are often enough. The broad outlines of the needed surveillance apparatus already exist, their use continues largely as used now. If the person is determined to resist to the point of exhausting all other options, however, I do not oppose literally dedicating a full time official to follow them around. If you fuck up badly enough, and this is pretty damn badly, a police officer will be in the room with you 24\7 while you live your life. If they do commit a crime, the officer\official following them bears responsibility for not preventing it. If this has privacy implications for people around them, then those other people need to consent to the loss of privacy for the followed individual to participate. Exclusion from activities is a perfectly reasonable aspect of punishment; there are lots of times in the ordinary world where individuals are unable to go somewhere because of their current condition (eg, not being able to enter a restaurant because they have their dog with them.)

If someone refuses to go to rehabilitation, then rehabilitation will come to them. A therapist will be sent to their house. They are someone who likely needs a degree of therapy to even begin to accept the social contract they exist under, and there's no reason that needs to take place at a location outside of their house. Something that might not be apparent to a lot of people who have not been involuntarily confined (for mental health reasons, I don't know about criminal proceedings) - the worst parts of confinement are not the other patients, it's the mandatory counseling.

I'd like to make a subtle distinction here: This is a second place where I accept a type of confinement that I do not consider carceral. My specific working definition of incarceration is the act of throwing someone into a confined area to experience time as a punishment. It is a way of locking you up for the purpose of forgetting about you. If there is someone there with you, another human interacting with you in an official capacity, you are not incarcerated, you are in a mandatory meeting. 'Mandatory' means mandatory, sorry to the creepy stalker, they can't just leave the session.

What I am proposing is not gentle. It is a severe and incredibly invasive punishment, reserved as a show of force to those who refuse to behave. It just offers a clean and simple escape should you decide you'd rather comply, a fair carrot and stick. The outlines of this system are partially based on what happened to an acquaintance of mine, a factor one psychopath. That's the one where you're brain damaged from birth to have no conscience. They had murdered about a dozen pets, and were caught preparing a murder kit they were intending to use to kill a homeless person (for their own sexual gratification). They were studying to get a degree in criminal forensics, to help them get away with it. Scariest person I've ever met, totally flat expression, and very smart. This person had fucked up badly enough to be subject to this kind treatment.

They served their time, and were released under observation. They were watched like a *fucking hawk* afterwards. The conditions of their existence were incredibly restricted, even as they retained their freedom of movement (subject to exclusions from areas, not confinement to a particular one.) Officers had to approve their housing situation, phone apps, visitors, everything. They were given absolutely no privacy (beyond what would be expected in prison), but they were ultimately allowed to exist outside and have housing, a phone, visitors, etc. The unstated purpose of this monitoring was to be so invasive that they would fully internalize the idea that the consequences of trying shit again were absolutely not worth the attempt. This treatment was successful, as far as any of us could tell, and it those few initial weeks seemed genuinely more effective at reforming their behavior than the years they spent in prison. It certainly was on a reform-per-minute basis.

A common mistake people make when designing non-carceral systems is to attempt to make them non-punitive: This does not work. There are individuals who will only respect your ability to force them to comply, and this requires a show of force; it just does not need to be incarceration. Long-term paternalistic management sucks, in a horrible water torture kind of way, and this trait is under-appreciated because used properly it can be pleasant and produce genuine benefits. Someone with (eg.) severe executive functioning issues may find their life improved by being in this situation. Prison, on the other hand, simply becomes a new normal you endure while your social ties to the outside world die. A stalker released from prison after six months will quite possibly break their restraining order immediately, especially after ruminating on their target for half a year. A stalker micromanaged into understanding exactly what is wrong with them will never, ever want to deal with that again.

"I'm tired of everyone asking me the same questions about my political stance" is a complaint that works better when you give actual answers to those questions.

[project-sekai-facts]

Hiii I'm a newer fan and I have a few questions about how the SEKAIs work

1. When you leave the SEKAI, does it spit you back out the same place that you entered it? Or can you use it to teleport?

2. On that note, in the Wonderlands x Showtime main story, Emu and Nene hold on to Rui while Tsukasa transports them all. This means you do not need one phone per person to travel. Can he do this because they also have the Untitled songs on their phones? Or can this be done to ANYONE? Could it work on those from a different unit?

3. Do we know if there's a limit to the number of outside things someone can bring into the SEKAI? For example, if the Empty SEKAI is essentially limitless, could it be used essentially like a bag of holding from DnD? Could it store the Mediterranean Sea? Could you steal something and put it in the SEKAI to erase the evidence?

4. Do things brought into the SEKAI ever disappear? If they do, do they return to where the objects were in the real world, or do they simply vanish?

5. If you give something to someone inside the SEKAI, can they take that thing with them outside of the SEKAI? Can it be used to teleport objects? Or will the object return to the person who originally brought it? Or will it stay in the SEKAI until the original person takes it out?

6. Why do they have to hide the Vocaloids on their phones? What do they think will happen if people see a hologram of Kagamine Len? Wouldn't it just be assumed that they're looking at a vocaloid video or some kind of sophisticated VTube program? Why would someone automatically assume magic?

Thank you for your time! I have no idea if these questions have even been thought of; it seems more like the SEKAI are supposed to be metaphorical than treated as proper aspects of science fiction. So if you have/find any answers, I would greatly appreciate it!

1. It sends you back to where you were when you went in. This is shown most notably in the wxs main story where kigurumi-san says he saw Tsukasa and Emu disappear and reappear.

2. Sekai only allow certain people into them (the people with the specific untitled file on their device). This might change later this year.

3. This is something that they've never really gone into detail about, but you can probably put as much in as you want. They're pretty much endless or at least very very large.

4. No, they just stay there until you take them back out

5. The way the game seems to work is that whatever you are holding goes in/out the sekai with you (things like chairs you are sitting on seem exempt from this). So yes this technically means you can teleport objects, but only ones that came from the real world. Stuff that was created by the Sekai can't be taken out.

6. Probably just basic sci-fi rules of not trying to freak out the general public. Emu mentions that normal phones are able to display holograms in-universe, so in theory it shouldn't weird people out. But then again if anyone found out any level of detail about you having an mp3 file that warps you to an alternate dimensional plane where Hatsune Miku is legit real and based on your emotions would probably make you subject of government research. Like WxS use the vsinger holograms in the Wonder Magical Showtime event because they can use the excuse of "it's a show we just have the technology" and they never get sued by crypton and you could probably just say "cool app" if anyone saw it briefly but if people find out any actual info it's a problem.

Hope this is helpful!

[velvetvexations]

So, i followed a chinese tech account on twitter for a while that shared her perspective on why you see a lot of overt nationalism exhibited by chinese people on western social media.

which is that if you're a chinese national with like, nuanced views on china (aka: it is neither purely good nor purely evil) then discussing china on western social media is a miserable experience. because saying anything remotely positive about any aspect of the country will have you drowning in accusations of being a ccp shill, or a fake propaganda account. so a lot of those people just don't bother. why the fuck would you? deal with a vpn and a second language and for what? discussing the more politically delicate topics is a game of double speak to avoid issues with the government, and on the other side is a bunch of westerners who will claim you aren't a real person because you said your local market is nice.

and i saw this play out on her account constantly! any vaguely positive statement, there would be multiple replies and quote retweets insisting her account was ccp propaganda, despite the fact that she was routinely critical of the government. she at one point flat out discussed how she was increasingly considering leaving china, but wouldn't do it because her uyghur girlfriend couldn't access a passport. she discussed how a western media outlet outing her put her in danger. she didn't draw the lines for people (eg, my gf cant get a passport Because she's uyghur, being Out as a public figure here is not safe) but she put the dots incredibly close.

but, you know. she could speak english, and was a woman in tech, and she didn't declare every single aspect of her country a dystopian nightmare, so a ton of people decided she couldn't be an actual person.

(also i realized im using past tense, she's not dead, but she did explicitly state that she'd finally toed the line too hard, and her social media presence was being significantly pared down as a consequence. the tipping point seemed to be her being very vocal about a homophobic hate crime that had occurred and received limited coverage.)

God, yeah, all that sounds like a nightmare. I feel very sorry for her.