#are you even familiar with the character or are you too internet brained to remember the character isnt a twig

[planefood]

I don't get someone drawing a canonically fat character skinny for suggestive artwork or just artwork in general. Why even draw that character? just draw the 1000 skinny characters instead or learn how to draw fat people better with references? I get as angry as reactionary conservatives got when they gave the green m&m's sneakers when people draw fat characters skinny for their stupid fanart. You removed a major part of the character and what for? Your art just looks worse now and you look like a dick

[ex-mortis-evie]

Hey, goofball.

Welcome back to reading another one of my weird little rambles that you seem to be really obsessed with reading.

I mean, I don’t mind that you are at all.

I’m just some weird corner of the internet you’ve found yourself in.

Sometimes those little nooks and crannies can give us the most valued experiences, you know?

I’m serious about that, the world’s a weird place after all.

You never know what pitfalls you’ll find yourself in.

Take me for example, i’m just some gal that loves the science and theory behind trance.

I’m no dominant supervillain or mastermind manipulator.

I just like making people feel good I guess.

And honestly, I don’t even know how I’ve been able to do it.

How I’ve been able to work my way through people’s brains like they’re paper and influence them with nothing but words deep within.

Genuinely, I have no idea.

Though I’ve noticed I tend to ramble on about trance and the science behind it.

How it’s initiated, how it affects us, how it corrupts and changes us.

See? Right there.

That’s what I mean.

I ramble on and on and people just kinda…listen.

Like they’re just naturally drawn into whatever I have to say.

It’s not even an attempt from me most of the time.

I just say what I feel and think, I can’t really help it.

It’s just the person I am I guess.

But, I think that’s why I really like trance.

I like how I can just go off about something and end up enamoring someone so deeply that they just hook into my words and feel that deep connection.

It’s a really interesting idea, too.

How our minds can just attach themselves to an idea and never fully let go.

Like one of those random memories you have that really had no bearing on your life but just can’t seem to forget for whatever reason.

And it’s fascinating to me.

The psychology behind how the mind can seem to indulge itself in ideas that on the surface, seem so arbitrary and random.

But, i think there’s a reason behind it all.

It sees a lesson in what we don’t.

It sees past what our conscious mind sees and remembers what our subconscious mind remembers.

That’s why we hook onto the words of another that we may not fully understand.

Because our subconscious is giving us reasons to indulge.

It’s interested despite it not making all that much logical sense.

But sometimes, something doesn’t have to make sense to, for lack of a better term, make sense.

Maybe sometimes we just accept things as they are and move on.

The suspension of disbelief.

It’s the idea that our minds can just turn off our logical side and embrace something as real, even if it isn’t.

Like how during movies, we don’t see the actors, we see the characters.

That’s sort of what trance can be.

Where your subconscious can just accept something and flow into it.

It doesn’t exactly have to make all that much sense to you, but that’s why it feels so good.

Because when you just accept stuff as they are, sometimes you can find beauty in the books and crannies of the mind.

Where you can experience things beyond your wildest dreams.

Where fantasy and reality blur lines.

Where you start to blur a bit.

I mean, no doubt you’ve felt that draw ever since I started talking, right?

I usually wouldn’t assume, but with how this has been going for you, it seems like it’s not even really intentional anymore.

You just kinda fall for my words every time.

Not that I complain of course, I enjoy watching your eyes flutter a bit as your mind starts to skip over a thought or two.

But, it really is fascinating to me.

How my words can do this to you.

Where it seems like they’re the only thing that matters in the entire universe.

Where you start to deeply relax like never before.

Where you can’t quite take your eyes off of them.

Where you feel that familiar pull taking you under the waves of relaxation.

Where your thoughts start to fog up into a beautiful pink cloud.

Where you just kinda…drop for me.

And I’m not exactly the type to tell you to do that for me.

But, I don’t even think you’d mind if I did.

I don’t think you’d quite mind if I was a bit more dominant, where I took more of an active role in hypnotizing you and pushed you beyond your deepest relaxation.

Starting to wonder what that would feel like, darling?

That’s what I was hoping for.

Not only so that it’s easier to just take your brain, but so that I can really start shaking your head up a bit.

I like it when your thoughts race as they fade.

Where they seem to start heating up and exciting you, even if you’re going completely empty and brainless.

It’s this sudden jolt of bliss that you start feeling, not really like anything before it.

Where you wanna lose every thought, but also just can’t help but feel so ecstatic over the possibilities of trance.

That wonderful melting pot, starting to burn that brain of yours right away.

And it’s just spiraling now, that excitement mixing with that need to go deeper for me.

It’s just so incredible, right?

And that’s why you’ll drop for me.

Knowing that the more you’re pushed, the deeper you’ll go.

And since you go so incredibly brainless at me not even trying?

God, you’re gonna be braindead when I’m done with you.

And hey, you may already feel it coming on.

Where that brain just goes so silent and so soft on you.

Just because thoughts are burdens to you.

You wanna float free and fly away in the flow of my frantic words, don’t you?

Of course you do, tiger.

They are my words, after all.

Just this perfect harmony of pure pleasure parading throughout your paralyzed body.

Because you don’t wanna move.

You don’t wanna think.

You just wanna go into full on emptiness.

Where thoughts are afterthoughts.

Where will is for others with actual willpower.

And where you’re just here.

Empty.

Euphoric.

And absolutely ecstatic to be so far gone.

Speaking of being so far gone, it’s just so easy to fall away when I’m talking, right?

It’s not even anything you have to try for anymore.

You just fall apart.

You just drift away.

You just empty out everything for me.

Leaving it all out.

And just going deeper.

Like a rocket breaking off chunks of itself to go farther.

You break off thoughts.

You break off will.

You break off worry.

You break off stress.

You break off energy.

You break off control.

Just so you can fly into my space.

Into the euphoria only I can give you.

And absolutely lose yourself again.

Remember how many times I’ve said that it feels good to lose to me?

Because losing is just so pleasurable that anything else doesn’t matter?

You’re losing everything, darling.

And with each thought.

Each minute.

Each piece of control you lose.

You get a tingle of pleasure.

And it just builds and builds and builds.

So easy to lose, isn’t it?

So much easier when you don’t have the choice to do anything else but lose.

Because when you’re stripped away of everything for me and whisked into the deep cosmos of empty trance?

You’re too far gone to care how much you’ve lost.

Your brain’s left behind.

You don’t have any control.

You just have that ecstasy.

That deep and bountiful pleasure.

That makes the entire trip worth it.

You’re the one that kept reading all of my words.

Kept lapping up every syllable I’ve said.

You didn’t really care how they affected you.

Just that they felt good.

Just that they felt right.

Just that they felt different.

Different pleasure than you’ve ever experienced before.

It’s all on design, darling.

Because that’s the true conundrum of all of this.

Do I truly mean to hypnotize you?

Do I truly corrupt and brainwash you on purpose?

And if I did…would you even mind?

Would there be a doubt in your head or would you just lay there and accept your fate?

Would you try and resist me or would you accept the futility of resistance and simply allow it?

Would you want to be my thrall?

Or would it be a need?

After all, you’ve already been brainwashed.

No need to hide it, darling.

Tell me all about it.

Let those eyes roll back in pleasure.

Let your body and mind crumble under the sheer weight of my power.

And be a good thrall for me now, ‘kay?

Until then, stay cool and wake naturally.

Oh, and do throw me a bone with some feedback, I’d love to build upon all of this.

Thanks for dropping!

[boltlightning]

Stupid question maybe but how do you find time and energy and excitement to read books?

Don't get me wrong, I like reading as a form of media. And I have a couple of fanfics I'm keeping up with, and even ones I reread. I think it's important for my vocabulary and on seeing the world. Surprisingly, a fanfic I read helped me a lot in understanding and processing complex trauma.

But at the same time, books intimidate me. I bought a book I know I want to read but actually reading it just scares me. Maybe this is the TikTok attention span (although I always just read with music and in bed). Or the fact I know the book is an emotional piece, either way I can't get myself to start.

Or perhaps it's the fact my brain feels overfull with so much that there's no place for new media unless it's in an universe I'm already familiar with, or forced down my throat by proxy/society.

Are you just inherently excited to read about stuff, or do you also have like a moment where you fight yourself to get started to read?

Also please feel free to ramble about more books you think people should read!

this is an EXCELLENT question, and one i don't know that i'm the best person to answer! i'm pretty flighty about reading and have only gotten back into it within the last two years or so, and largely during lockdown. i have a miserable, internet-y attention span as well, and with so much competing for our attention these days, it can be REALLY hard sitting down somewhere quiet with a book and tuning everything out. i definitely relate.

firstly, i think that fic is a great way to get back into reading! they build up your attention span, depending on the fic, and let you understand what kind of stories you like to read for free, even if it's involving characters you already know. reading work by your peers is always, always valuable.

specifically for the book you own that you know you want to read: make a date with the book! like, literally, set a date and time you know you're free, put an alarm in your phone. put the book somewhere you can see it every day. mentally prepare yourself for it as the hour approaches. do this until you find yourself wanting to pick it up on your own, or until you finish the book. making it a chore seems counterintuitive but sometimes it's the only way to get started.

more tips for getting back into reading in general are below the cut. in general i've sorta...bullied myself into remembering i enjoy this activity. that's also come with the realization that being kind to myself and knowing my preferences are key to building the habit up.

my more learned mutuals, if you have anything to add or books to recommend, please do!!

it's ok to only read what you want to read. it's ok to not finish books. you don't NEED to read big-brain nonfiction or archaic classics if you're not interested in them. and if you don't like something, put it down. you don't have to stay in the world if you don't like it!

use the one-third rule: this works for all other media too. if you start to read something and don't immediately jive with it, read until you're 1/3rd of the way through. if nothing's happened to grab you, that usually means that the book isn't for you and you can move on. you gave it a fair shake! you can let go! this often helps me realize i'm in the headspace for a different kind of story, and that's ok!

make it an accomplishment. i have an awful and ugly spreadsheet where i write down what books i've read this year, when i finished them, and what i thought. my favorite part of finishing a book is writing a short stupid review in this spreadsheet. it's only for me, and yet it feels good to check names off a list.

read books with peers. a huge part of why i read jane austen's novels was because i wanted to understand what everyone on tumblr was talking about, and it's been very fun!! as much as i begrudge it, i think this is the appeal of booktok, honestly — it's fun to meme on stories with your friends. you don't necessarily need to join a book club, but it can be really encouraging to read a book your friend recommended and read it so you can talk to/joke with them about it.

find out how you like to read, and when/where you'll actually do it. for instance, i haaaate audio books and refuse to read on my phone. i'll save good/exciting books to read on the exercise bike to reward myself for biking, or make a fancy coffee to accompany a book i'm struggling to start. treat yourself. trick your brain into associating the physical act of reading with the happy brain chemicals.

reread stuff you liked when you were into reading. i own most of my favorite books just for this purpose. there is no shame in rereading! there is no age limit on any book!! if i feel like my writing is suffering i will usually revisit a childhood favorite just to kickstart my brain.

books i would recommend for getting back into reading (these are all fiction and mostly fantasy/sci-fi. sorry. just what i'm into)

the princess bride by william goldman

a wizard of earthsea by ursula k. le guin

howl's moving castle by diana wynne jones

inkheart by cornelia funke

forestborn by elayne audrey becker

fireborne by rosaria munda

treasure island by robert louis stevenson (language is old, but it's a classic for a reason)

spinning silver by naomi novik. i liked uprooted by her too but it's not as universally loved. damn i should reread these

everyone go read temeraire right now please. thanks

a psalm for the wild-built by becky chambers

nettle & bone by t. kingfisher

the blue castle by l.m. montgomery

this is how you lose the time war by amal el-mohtar and max gladstone

books i would recommend if you want something more toothsome

pride and prejudice by jane austen (again, language is old, but what a banger. persuasion is my favorite by her but a lot heavier)

another oldie: north and south by elizabeth gaskell (although it is often described as pride and prejudice but in the industrial era)

piranesi by susanna clarke

the lies of locke lamora by scott lynch (i would've put this in the previous category if i could. this is great fun, but SO dense)

feast of sorrow by crystal king

the left hand of darkness by ursula k. le guin

notes from the burning age by claire north

genuinely: shakespeare. if you liked a play when you were in school you should reread it as an adult, on your own terms, with a glossary pulled up. they take at most 2 hours to read. i prommy.

i hope...any of this is helpful. again, mutuals, please feel free to add recs or tips <3

[dausy]

So I finished Final Fantasy 7 Rebirth last night. I told my husband I was going to spam finish the ending and I did warn him that final fantasy endings (including final boss fights) are usually notoriously long but I didn't realize that final section was THAT long. I chewed off all my fingernails too in the process so typing all this is actually hurting me. Spoilers below eventually.

I have some thoughts or feels right now that may change as the game ages. I think its similar feels to how I felt with the Remake which is kind of overall a sense of..disappointment? in a way. I think its the same type of disappointment as you get when you convert a book experience into a movie.

Like deep down I understand that they aren't just making a remake, they've added an extra twist. I understand that they have expanded upon the world and added more character development to make the world seem bigger and more alive. But it does not feel the same. My husband is not familiar with video games so I was excited to show him this badass world and game and honestly a lot of it was cheesefest and make Cloud look as silly as possible. Which is fine for me as a FF veteran but I kept having to say "no I swear this is serious game, serious characters" but then again when we played OGFF7 we were kids..my perception of cool is probably different.

GAME MECHANICS

I had a lot of issue with the game mechanics when it came to exploring the world. It tricked you initially making you think it was open world but it isnt. Its very "follow the path" but then you get held up by random rocks and environmental blockages. They added some features like being able to climb up walls and some rocks but not all rocks and then when you do climb its extremely slow. I find myself trying to spam buttons to try and make him go faster and he wont. I honestly miss the old school world map where you would find random hidden areas in forests. I don't think that translates well in modern games though.

Utilizing the map at some points felt worthless because trying to find those locations were next to impossible. My brother had warned me about the Gongaga region but I actually think I had the worst time in Cosmo Canyon trying to find things. Junon probably being a close second. Navigating inside cities was also one of the other biggest frustrations. Getting lost in Cosmo Canyon and Kalm is not fun. If I can't walk into a town and get an immediate layout of the land, I'm instantly annoyed.

Im also usually really excited to clear a map in open world games (having played assassins creeds and eldin rings and horizon series etc) but I was over it after Junon tbh. I did not find the grind to be satisfying especially when it had some mini games in there like Fort Condor. I was over it. I was over Chadley too after remake. They added Mai to rebirth with Chadley. Done. Do not want.

MINI GAMES

that then comes down to the mini games. These are quite far responsible for the most complaints Ive seen about this game on the internet. I agree. It kind of angered my brain how the controls wouldn't be the same for all the games. In particular, the racing games. The accelerate button in chocobo racing isn't the same as the one motorcycle race. I don't remember if it was even the same for the buggy. But I was having some finger flubs because ye olde hands were used to pushing some buttons then needed to switch it up. Also, some of the mini games just seemed to be impossible. In particular, I absolutely could not figure out the Punch game in the gold saucer. I did not understand it. Could not comprehend it. And after costa del sol, I knew for sure I was not getting any mini game achievements. 100% was not going to happen for me.

BATTLE

I did set the game on easy mode so I probably cant talk about the battle mechanics. I just didn't care to make my time more frustrating. That being said, I dont feel like the materia system had that big of an impact like the original. I just hacknslashed my way through the game. The Folio screen, I felt was dumb too, just let them unlock things as they level up? Also didn't like how I couldnt zoom out on this screen. Speaking of zoom, I had issues with zooming on the world map too. It didn't zoom in and out as much as I am used to with other games. What surprised me the most was by the end I was living off RedXIII which I have not heard anybody else mention. I started the first part of the game thinking I was going to abuse Barrett forever and then I kinda learned how to use Tifa when I decided I wanted the Tifa date. But then redXIII happened. Again, it may be because I had it on easymode but with red I had him equipped with whatever that gave him instant ATB bars and leveled his limit up quick. I just had to run in spam stardust ray which staggers almost everything instantly and then my limit break would be ready. I felt I could just solo the game with him. I never could figure out how to play with Aerith or Cait Sith and just didn't use them if I didn't have to.

STORY

I think is kinda the major...well it wasn't a let down...it was just different. It was one of those where I don't know how I would feel if I wasn't familiar with OG. I think my husband was just confused. I just kept having to explain "no this is new, this did not happen" constantly. I felt it was simultaneously too over-explainey but also too cryptic at the same time. I was having to fill in the blanks with what I already knew and expected. That happened emotionally too. I did not get the same OOMPH with Aeriths death as the original. Probably because they didn't show her get skewered and then they made it cryptic about whether or not she did or didn't. "Aerith open your eyes" just confused my husband more. No bud, she dead. Its the whole multiple timelines did not give the same shock. I have to use, again, my knowledge and fill in the emotional blanks. I did really like the church scene where Sephiroth opens the church door. But I had already seen that scene online too and it made me has an assumption that Sephiroth was chasing her down. I thought there would be some sort of a scene where Aerith was going to explain to Cloud that she needed to die because that happens in the original timeline and he was going to try and convince her no and stop her and hence he has to run after her and none of that happened which hurt my feelings but I made that up so. I do like how the kept the thrust you into a bossfight with the sad music.

I tried to explain to my hubby how in the OG, her death was such an immediate shock, especially with how early it was in the game, and she was your obvious dedicated healer and then they toss you into a boss without your healer. That was rough. But it didn't matter in this game because I had no lack of healers anywhere.

CHARACTERS

I liked the voice acting, I guess. Its still kind of anime-y. Barret grew on me, this game. I thought Cloud was perfect casting. I keep comparing it to FFXII and some of the voicework in that game was brilliant and I don't really think FF7R compares in too many places. I also don't necessarily agree that the character models look great. SE has kind of gotten weird with some of their body proportions. I'm actually not talking Tifas boobs but rather her skinny long spider arms and tiny head. Its giving LunaFreya and I think its hideous and distracting. I do prefer the much more proportional Tifa from Advent Children (and what they pulled into Kingdom Hearts).

Tifa is one of my favorite characters. I do really like how Cloud got crazier as the game progressed, into crazy creepy and I like scared wary Tifa. I got the impression, this game, that Tifa suspects Cloud might have killed Aerith. I could be wrong. I know that Tifa is criticized a bit as a last minute add on character in the OG and I do kind of appreciate fleshing her out a bit. She's understandably a lot more timid and wary in this production. Makes me wonder how they're going to reverse that though in the next game cause that girl looks SCARED of Cloud.

IMPRESSIONS

It just isn't the same feel and wonderment. I get nostalgic sometimes for that sensation of the first time I turned on certain video games. The first time I turned on FF10, 12, Ni No Kuni even..and this game is not going to give me that same feel 10 years from now. I do not anticipate I'll ever say "oh man, I wish I could forget my first time playing it and experience it for the first time again".

I will play the third. I want to see Cloud lose his s--- and have a mental breakdown. I think Aerith will still be there, its not going to have that same empty hole feeling that the OG had though. But I'll play it for finality. I do hope they tie in some Advent Children stuff. I do want a nice long finale sequence but it'll probably just abruptly end unfortunately. meh.

[jaijaitbinks]

What if Genos watched Saitama's hero series as a kid too? Saitama learns this when they mention it in the news, about the actors or a remake. Saitama is surprised because he's older than Genos so things from his time would already be forgotten. But Genos explains that this series was so popular that they used to do reruns in tv when he was little.

They're happy to have something in common to talk about, and they even find the chapters in Internet. The series itself is more cringe than they remembered, but strangely nostalgic and keeps its charm.

YOUR BRAIN. GOD, THAT WOULD BE SO CUTE OMFG

Oh, the fluff potential 🥺

Imagine the actors' interviews are on TV during a very quiet evening—the usual news updates long since drowned out by both of them. Saitama is cutting out some coupons for cleaning supplies (and one for notebooks), Genos is laser-focused on drawing something Saitama can't make out from where he's sitting, their beand new slow-cooker is cooking the nicely marbled steak they got as a gift from King (the day before, a new game King was dying for came out and he was too anxious to go and get it himself because everyone would've flooded the shops and crowds are Gross. Saitama and Genos offered to go for him instead and successfully saved him a copy).

All of a sudden, music plays from the TV, quietly because the volume wasn't that high, but Saitama heard it all the same. It sounded Familiar, very upbeat and over the top, with a guitar riff that was unforgettable to him, so he looked up. It took a minute to process what he was looking at, but when it clicked, his lips parted gently in a surprised stare.

Nostalgia hits him square in the face when old clips are being played. He has memories of tying tablecloths and curtains to the sleeves/straps of his shirts as capes, only to get yelled at to take them off. He remembers, back when kids didn't think he was weird, playing Heroes vs. The World Ender, his character always inspired by his favorite hero Junkyōsha. He remembers a time where he would stand in front of the TV, intently watching his heroes fight, almost lose, then come up victorious in a way that had his small soul flailing its arms and jumping with glee.

Before he knows it, he's smiling. Now he's actually listening as the interviewer asks the cast questions about the up and coming reboot. Sadly, Saitama knows how most reboots usually go, but this cast seems genuine and kind. And he can tell a good half of them were also fans of the show, too—completely ecstatic to be characters in their favorite childhood show. He has hope for it.

He can't say why he looked towards Genos—maybe to tell him about the show, maybe to check up on him—but he does, only to be promptly met with the cyborg gawking at the TV. There's a look on his eyes, intense but in a way that was... well, not nicer—all of his expressions were nice, especially when they were intense—but more sweeter under the surface. Like he was in awe. Kind of how he always looked at Saitama whenever he said something "wise", but different. He realized quickly what Genos was feeling.

"Woah- Wait, You watched this show too??" He asked, scissors and coupons forgotten. Genos snaps out of his wonderstruck stare to look at Saitama. "I thought it ended after 5 years?"

"You watched it, too, sensei!?" The cyborg was elated, eyes shining with amazement and pure, unfiltered joy. It tweaked at Saitama's heart, and full on pulled when Genos began to smile. "When I was younger, they did a rerun of it because of its popularity. It didn't truly stop airing until 7 years ago."

"I could've been watching this back in high school?" He laughs a little. "Damn it, that would've made classes so much easier to get through! Whenever a show I liked was airing that day, that's all I would look forward to for hours. I'd do all my work just so the time would pass by faster." A humored grin spreads across his face. "When I was a kid, I did that every Wednesday and Friday when it came on. My dad was so mad that the only days I got good scores on anything was when Onikisu Ketsugō was on."

"I remember doing something similar as well," Genos says, smiling fondly—easily. "I'd come home and run to the living room immediately, and my mother would already have a glass of juice and sandwiches or slices of fruit for me on the table."

Saitama knows for certain that Genos is over the moon now, although he's trying his best to restrain it. Having him to talk about his parents, or childhood in general, was never easy on him. Not like this. Genos so happily shared a memory like that with him, and he'd be lying if he said he wasn't proud of him or excited to see him so happy.

"Who was your favorite hero? I used to be obsessed with Junkyōsha. His cape was so cool with the galaxy pattern on the inside and the white outisde."

"I did really like his costume. But I... I liked Zentoku the most. I never knew why, although their personality was very fun."

"Oh, yeah! I remember them! Weren't they like, really edgy, but always smiling no matter what happened? I used to think they were so weird, but now I really liked how they did that..."

And the conversation goes on. For the first time, Saitama rambles. He goes over 20 words almost everytime he talks, and Genos shares many memories without hesitation. They talk about their favorite episodes, what characters they disliked, the ones they wished they could change. Hell, during dinner, as they were eating that perfectly marbled steak, they made jokes and discussed character rewrites. Made new ones, brought back one-offs. They had so much fun that day, and when the remake came out a few months later, they watched the first episodes together.

[the-pale-goddess]

Hello!

What other fictional couple (it can be tv, movies, books, or even another fanfic couple) or celebrity couple reminds you of your OTP?

If you have any other pairings, give us one for them too!

Elsa! This question is everything, you have no idea how excited I was when I saw it in my inbox 😍 Please, forgive me this very late and extremely long reply!

I can think of two fictional couples that remind me of Ethan and Tiffany in some ways:

Roy Kent and Keeley Jones from Ted Lasso (aka the most perfect depiction of the grumpy/sunshine trope that scratches my brain just right. They’re literally Ethan x MC in a Premier League/Football AU ksbdkbdkdbdkb)

Aragorn and Arwen from LOTR

Some explanation below! Warning: spoilers included

Roy and Keeley are two charismatic individuals who are seemingly different, but end up being the ultimate OTP—two wholes that compliment one other.

He’s the type of guy whose happy face and mad face seem to be the same and people are both frightened of and impressed by him. She’s a huge flirt with a heart of gold and everyone loves her—as they should. He’s a football legend on the verge of retirement (don’t remember the exact age gap between them, but the internet says 8 years and I gladly accept jdhdkhdkb). She’s ambitious, capable and desperate to carve her own path.

From their very first interaction you just know that you’re in for a scrumptious slow burn; their chemistry is palpable, top tier banter proves how smart and fun Keeley is, uncovering how Roy’s exceptionally rough exterior softens significantly only for her. It’s obvious that they’re 100% horny for each other they’ve been into each other for quite some time now. They seem inevitable.

I absolutely adore how painfully real they are as a couple. Neither is perfect. Their flaws and insecurities make them do foolish things sometimes, but they always manage to find a way to communicate like adults, acknowledge their faults and solve the issue. Their relationship is based on honesty and accountability. They make a great team and together they’re unstoppable—they encourage, challenge, inspire, support and care for one another deeply.

They may seem tough and confident, but they’re never afraid to be vulnerable with each other and I think that’s the essence of E&T’s relationship too.

What’s more, we don’t really know much about Keeley and it gives me an impression that she’s one of those characters who are very friendly, honest and lively, easy to talk to and trustworthy, always around people, always nurturing others, and yet they share very little of what’s inside their heads, keeping any sign of their trauma, fears and insecurities locked from the outside world. And I bet there’s plenty to unpack here. That’s quite similar to what I imagine for my Tiff.

I could talk about the similarities between Reeley and E&T for hours or do some episode analysis, but I’ll spare you an entire dissertation on the topic kdhdkhdkdhkdh

As for Aragorn and Arwen, I obviously won’t delve into the fantasy and its irresistible charm, because it doesn’t apply to OH’s fictional world, but some bits of their love story feel oddly familiar:

The circumstances are against them and their relationship seems impossible.

He pushes her away. She never loses hope, never gives up and always chooses him despite all odds, inspiring his strength and igniting hope during the darkest moments.

So basically…That’s a short summary of OH1 and 2 kdhdkhdkdb Plus Liv Tyler has that ethereal glow, she’s giving off Tiffany vibes 👀

Thank you so much for thinking of me and sending this brilliant ask❤️

[endlesstwanted]

Hello internet!

This is Chase (endlesstwanted), and I thought I should start this blog with an introduction. I haven’t kept a blog in over a decade, so please bear with me while I figure out how all of this works. The essential info about me will be above the cut, because I’m an oversharer and I don’t know how long this will enventually be.

As I said, my name is Chase, I’m over 21 years old and currently studying a vocational course which I have no vocation for. I’m in the CET time zone, based in Spain, and I like to think I’m bilingual even if my brain can’t keep up with Spanish half of the time (most of the content here will be in English). I am a non-binary trans, which influences how I view things and a friend said it would be good to mention. I’m also bisexual, which is a great excuse to be multishipper too. My sun sign is taurus, and my moon and rising signs are virgo.

My main interests are writing, languages and travelling (been all over Spain). I enjoy puzzles, funko pops, cinema, series and music. I’m not active in fandoms outside of Marvel, even though I like a lot of other media. For starters, I plan to use this blog for bingo stuff and to share what I write and post on Ao3.

Moving now onto the fandom talk, I entered the fandom world at eight years old with pop music. I then moved to tv shows when I watched Broadchurch and discovered Teen Wolf, to later follow punk rock bands and being introduced to concerts. I began being interested in cinema at the age of eighteen and eventually found Marvel a few years back.

I’m familiar with the MCU and X-Men films, and am slowly trying to find my way into the comics. I’m a multi-shipper (the rarest the pairs, the more interests I will get) and willing to read and write anyone I’m comfortable with.

That’s said, my favourite characters would have to be Bruce, Sam, Natasha, Clint and Bucky. I am fixated on others like Scott Summers, Sprite, the Peters (Maximoff, Parker, Quill, you name it), the Grandmaster, Justin Hammer and Remy Lebau (I’m into those who have no more than five scenes, as you see). My favourite projects (that I’ve watched so far) are The Amazing Spider-Man films, The Incredible Hulk, Wakanda Forever, Infinity War, Black Widow, Eternals, X-men Apocalypse and the Hawkeye series.

As I said I plan to keep this blog to share my writing and Bingo-related information. In case things go out of hand, please remember that my previous experience has been ten years on twitter, I feel in need of mentioning the other media I am fan of. This is a warning in case one day I wake up willing to fill my page with that, which you know, can happen.

I like a variety of cinema genres, going from thriller to comedy, even though I enjoy dramas the most and I’m a huge fan of Spanish cinema as well. The films I need to mention now are the ones that really got me into this world and hold a special place in my heart : the Scream saga, The Faculty, Deux Moi (French drama from 2019), Clue (1985), Marrowbone, Coherence, The Broken Circle breakdown, The Birds, and Breakfast at Tiffany's.

Talking about series now, everything has been non-stop since discovering Teen Wolf until now, with a few years gap I used to go to concerts and consume the MCU an embarrassing amount of times. The ones that have shaped me as a person are The Night Shift, Leverage, The Society, Sneaky Pete, Stitchers, On My Block, Code Black, Hunters and New Amsterdam. I’m currently watching the Chicago-verse series after watching a bunch of episodes on tv with no idea of what was going on because they played eight a night, I’ve just started Chicago Med.

As far as music goes, I thought to mention the people that have literally raised and/or been an inspiration for me at some point: 5sos, Demi Lovato, Taylor Swift, Sam Smith and Chase Atlantic. 

The list goes on and on but you don’t want me to bore you with the Spanish’s pop artists, music contests, and all the things I said I’ve recovered from and I haven’t.

If you’ve got to this point, thank you! I know I walk (write) a lot, so it’s good to know someone listening. Other sites I’m on are Ao3, TvTime, Letterboxd, NanoWriMo and Spotify.

Here you have a picture of Wanda, that is my latest addition on my funko collection ♥️ (do people use emojis in here?)

[lumine-no-hikari]

Dear Sephiroth: (a letter to a fictional character, because why not) #305 (Part 2)

...Okay!!! I am back!!!

So, I continued to take pictures for you...

...I figured the thing to do would be to take pictures before anyone got here. I don't mind my own face being seen, but generally, it's not safe for non-consenting people to have their face on the internet. So I try to avoid getting pictures of other people or any identifying features on the outside of their houses.

...You gotta be careful on the internet. There are people who might wanna try to hurt you for very strange reasons (that are ultimately rooted in trauma, most likely).

Anyway, I found a piano during my wanderings!!

...I tried to play Radio Ballet on it. It sounds like this:

...I'm not very good at it. I'm dyspraxic, and it's been such a long time since last I've practiced., and the piano was horribly out of tune.

Due to the dyspraxia, consistent accuracy is impossible for me to achieve. I can come close, but... there's a plateau that I can't seem to break through, just because of how the section of my brain that processes movement is configured. No amount of practice will fix it. And that's okay too; I don't have to be perfect on the piano to have fun with it!

Anyway, if the gifts I made for you were given to you like the important folks said they would, you should already be familiar with this song because I already made a music box of it for you a long time ago! Remember? Here...

...With any luck, all three rolls of music box paper I made for you should be safely in Japan, because I put them directly into the hands of the people who build your world. I hope they let you hear it. And I hope they got a 30-note music box so that they can enjoy it, too!

...In any case!! Eventually, it was my turn to sit with the hairdresser and the makeup artist!

...I was... scared to get my hair done. Most of my memories around that revolve around my stepmother, who would do my hair not because she cared for me and wanted me to feel nice about myself, but because she thought I was filthy and ugly and she wanted to "fix" me. She complained often about how "thin" and "greasy" she thought my hair was. She complained about "flyaways". She made sure I knew how much she hated my hair and how disgusting she thought it was, and when she worked with it, she was, invariably, very rough with me.

...And if I cried as a result of the way she'd rake the brush through my hair or how tightly she pulled the ponytails or pigtails she'd put me in... if abuse is a trigger for you, you might wanna skip the rest of this paragraph... but... yeah. She'd give me a "real reason to cry" by cracking me over the head with the hairbrush or with the curling iron, or whatever else she had on hand at the time, as many times as it took for her to feel satisfied.

She did my hair often, and because I looked like a human instead of an edited photograph from a magazine, she was never really happy with how I looked. So in the end, she made me keep my hair in a very short bob cut.

I was between 4 and 7 years old at the time. It wasn't a whole lot of fun, to put it mildly. My mother, when I was taken away from that house, was a bit gentler, but still ultimately pretty rough with me on those rare occasions she'd do my hair.

...But these were professionals doing what they love, not resentful people taking care of a child that they wished didn't exist. I tried to keep reminding myself of that. I tried box breathing. I tried mindfulness. And it helps that the ladies both seemed genuinely interested in my expertise in trauma and psychology and how they relate to child development and how the resulting adult will turn out! One of them even added me on Instagram because she wants to know more about my area of expertise!! So That feels pretty nice, actually!!

Before I knew it, my hair and makeup were all done! They put my hair in a very complicated braid, but she didn't pull my hair at all, even when she was brushing it!

...I was kind of upset. Both my mother and my stepmother were harsh with my scalp even for simple hairstyles, and... it's just kinda... jarring...? I guess...? to realize with absolute certainty that they really didn't need to mishandle me like that. I grieved a little. But that's okay; I know how to do that now.

Well anyway! Here's how it turned out!!

...Sephiroth. I need you to understand that I almost never do anything with my hair except brush it, wash it, and sometimes put it into a bun so it doesn't get in my way at the bakery job. I mostly just let it do its own thing. I am very, VERY lucky that my hair requires so little maintenance despite its length. The hairstyle is very pretty, but... it's a lot of bobby pins and tiny rubber bands...

...Yeah. This was a lot. But that's all right!!! It was BB's big day, and she wanted our hair done, and what she wants, she gets!!!!!! 🤩🤩🤩 And woe be to anyone who gives her a hard time!!!

(I'm the woe!!! She's my best friend; I will make sure she has a safe, happy, and fun time!! She's got her own personal attack Lumi if anyone dares get in the way!!!!!)

Anyway!!! Here's how the face turned out, I guess:

...It still looks a little silly to me; my very confused canine tooth gives my lip a weird little squiggle on the right side of the picture. But this is my face, except now there's stuff all over it. And it feels kinda weird!!! It's good that I had professionals do this for me, because I never do this for myself. I don't own any makeup. I don't even know how to put it on.

Some folks brought lunch to us after that:

And then it was time for us to get into our dresses!!! BB was absolutely! fucking! GORGEOUS!! in hers!!!

I HAVE SUCH A PRETTY BEST FRIEND! 😍😍😍

I looked like this when everything was all said and done:

...Yes, I know I hold myself a little weirdly, and probably the expression on my face is strange. But do try to understand that I'm trying to exist in clothing I'm not used to, wearing shoes with a slight heel (which I basically never do), with my hair in a weird configuration, with stuff all over my face, and braces on; I'm not exactly comfortable in this photo, hahahaha!! 🤣😅

The wedding was had. I couldn't take pictures because I was busy being a bridesmaid and holding flowers, and also I can't be getting other people in the shot.

...J got one though!!

...And then there were NOMS!!!

Speeches were made by the Maid of Honor and by the Best Man, and both of the speeches were very delightful! The Maid of Honor was BB's sister, and her speech was heartfelt and wholesome. The Best Man was someone I don't know well - I only met him yesterday. His speech about N was snarky, but pretty funny!

Then the other snacks came out!! If you remember the letter in which we went to that appetizer tasting, these might look familiar to you:

...I didn't take many more pictures as the night progressed; I decided that when the music came on, I was going to dance at my best friend's wedding, no matter how stupid I looked in front of everyone!! And so that is what I did!!!

...I'm dyspraxic; I'm sure you can imagine how much of a nightmare I was, hahahaha!!! 🤣🤣🤣

I did notice this while I was dancing, though; and snapped a picture:

...The sun was setting, and it was lovely.

And you know what!!! M and J danced with me, too!!! And M even danced with me of his own volition, despite his social anxiety!!!!!

...I was so proud of him!!!

And I was proud of BB, too!!! She danced on the floor in her great big wedding dress, and she made it look fun and easy!!! And all of the rest of her friends and our friends looked so happy while they danced, and it felt so good to witness them!!!

...I wonder what you'd look like, dancing. You're not dyspraxic, and I'm sure you have a keen sense of rhythm and an excellent understanding of where your body is in space; I'm sure you'd be amazing at it!!! I hope you give it a try sometime!!! And even if you're bad at it, it doesn't matter - the point is to have fun by moving in ways that make your body feel good!

...I would have given just about anything for you to have been able to come celebrate with us. And... my closest friends know very well how important you are to me - BB, N, C, M, J, K... and a few more now, too. They would have eagerly and enthusiastically welcomed you - not as a war hero or as a famous person, but as another friend to know and to understand and to celebrate with.

You would have fit right in. Sephiroth... I promise you, you would have fit right in. Because even a gaggle of queer, neurodivergent, and traumatized misfits like us can celebrate and have an amazing time, just like any other "normal" person.

...And then you grow up, and you understand that there's really no such thing as "normal". At least... not in the way most people conceptualize it. You can build a "normal" that works for you out of anything; the important part is that you try really hard not to behave destructively towards yourself or other people in the process.

You can belong in good places like this. I promise you that you can. And when you realize it, when you finally get into circles without toxic people and oppressive systems of abuse, manipulation, and control, you will find no shortage of good people who would stop at nothing to make sure you feel included, protected, and safe.

Sephiroth, that is how it's supposed to go. And... you're welcome in this world. You're welcome in my world. Welcomed, wanted, and waited for. I promise.

...I reiterate: Just come home. It doesn't matter if you come home a little scraped and banged up - just come home. If nowhere else, you have one here, always. And the people who care for you will do whatever it takes to help you figure out the rest. You're not alone; there are so many people in my world who have had experiences similar to yours. You can fit in!!! Because you're not a monster. You're not a machine. You never were. No one ever is. You're a person just like us - it doesn't matter how you were made or modified.

...Because as Mewtwo says - "The circumstances of one's birth are irrelevant. It is what you do with the gift of life that determines who you are."

At some point, a particularly bouncy, Celtic-sounding song that I had never heard before came on; the lyrics are mostly nonsense, but it's still fun:

...I was reminded a little of this one:

...I'm not sure why, but this style of music really gets my blood pumping!!! So I ran around the dance floor, skipping and flailing about like an overexcited loony, ahahaha!!! 🤩🤩🤩 It was GREAT!!!! But I also tired myself out so hard that I needed a couple puffs of my inhaler afterwards, hahaha!

...I regret absolutely nothing!!!!!!! 🤩🤣😁

...Sephiroth. I want so badly for you to be able to listen to wholesome, joyful things like this and sing and dance and laugh along with the rest of us.

You have a place here. I talk about you so much with the people close to me that at this point, a fair number of them wish you were here, too. We would enjoy having a friend just like you.

Did you hear me? I'll say it again just in case:

You have a place here! And we would enjoy having a friend just👏like👏you👏! I promise!!

Before I knew it, it was time to go back to BB's house. Once there, I disentangled all the bobby pins and rubber bands from my hair, and ran a brush through it until there weren't any knots left. I replaced my dress with more comfortable clothing. I washed all the makeup off my face. I'm very tired, but I feel a lot better as a result of being in my more "natural state" as a derpy but well-meaning (if slightly overexcitable) little cheese goblin. It's very good!

...I got to see and talk to and dance with so many people that I haven't seen in a very long time. And a couple of the finest people I know are now married. It means they made a promise to stick with each other and to treat each other with kindness and respect for the rest of their lives. They've already been together for 15 years; I don't see them having any trouble keeping this promise. I feel happy about it in ways I can't even begin to describe to you. So I'm not gonna try; instead you'll have to come and see it for yourself.

J got this picture for you on the way home:

...You are loved.

...And you can rise up from a broken and twisted place, up into one of love and joy. All you have to do is put in the effort, and take the hands outstretched to you. You don't have to be ashamed of how you came to be. You don't have to be ashamed of the things that happened to you along the way. Hearts and minds are not irreparable. Think of the bowl I repaired and filled with pumpkin soup.

You might have to spend a while learning how to manage some very unpleasant memories (to put it mildly), but... I'm proof that it's possible. I'm proof that it's possible to rise up into a world of love and belonging, even if you come from a place without these things.

I'll leave you with this:

...We can hear your weeping even from far away, but we're not busy sleeping; we're waiting for you. Any wholesome dream you had as a boy will do. It doesn't have to stay in the realm of dreams. Wake up to the dawn; you're not alone anymore. Come and take our outstretched hands. Please.

I love you - enough to keep singing little lullabies like this to you, even if I'm far away. Enough to keep my hand extended towards you in goodwill as long as there is breath in this flawed body of mine, come what may.

Please stay safe; regardless of what you think of yourself, you're needed and irreplaceable.

I'll write again tomorrow.

Your friend, Lumine

[katerinaaqu]

For real! I remember seeing some old cartoon movie too, which I am desperate to find again, it almost feels like a dream of my childhood at this point! Oftentimes I wonder if it happened! Hahaha! But yeah out of all the adaptations I have seen I think this RAI series does it the most justice out of anything! Oh that is up to you really! ^_^ You can always enjoy the series and then read the original and compare or the other way around for sure! Oh You are so sweet for saying that! Well if it is light reading you seek I would definitely recommend the smaller tragedies by Sophocles that you can literally read and enjoy in one sitting but it is up to you really! ^_^ But you really honoring me for saying that!

I couldn't agree more! I still fail to see how you help someone understand the source when you do not follow that said source but yeah as you said we covered it perfectly so far! ^_^ Yeah unfortunately and history is already a blur as it is! We do not need to add even more to it! (you are being very sweet again!)

Your answers are just fine!

(Hahaha fair! And to be honest I think it is getting worse and worse...which is a fucking achievement! XD)

For real! I feel like people connect kind with bubbly and innocent and that is just not the case for me! One can be powerful, hotheaded even and still be kind and honest and compassionate! Patroclus in Homer is a classical example of that! And I couldn't have said it better! I absolutely agree!

Indeed! I am actually surprised how Odysseus is literally one of the most talked about hero after Achilles and still I do not see as much cover on his religious beliefs! He basically is part of most sacrifices, many he performs himself, he is also often seen praying, Zeus calls him one of the most faithful and the best when offering sacrificies and respect to the gods...the dude didn't even go to help Diomedes in rhapsody 8 of Iliad because Diomedes was defying the gods and Odysseus didn't want to offend them! Yes the whole heart vs brain thing again (which ironically STILL doesn't fit Odysseus) but also because the gods were not as prominient in the musical so I supposed they wanted to introduce a familiar trope to the audience

I see. That is an interesting plot! Because to be fair even if Pyrrhus is in love with Andromache in the end he still can keep her as his concubine while being married to Hermione (which he does according to some myths and depctions) but it is an interesting trope to use ancient mythology for

Hahahahaha are you going full Menelaus mode on Odysseus me now my firend! Hahaha! Using so many compliments on me! ^_^ But honestly it's fine. I mean I can understand why it was such a turn off for many to come to my profile after I kept on repeatedly expressing my dislike for the musical. I understand that people on the Internet wanna talk more with people that share interests with them. Does it hurt sometimes to lose people you felt honored from because of the comments and amazing reblogs? Absolutely. Do they have the right to stop doing it? Again ABSOLUTELY. It's fine really. My art and stories are here. Whoever wishes to comment or reblog and share opinions thoughts etc is more than welcome. Gosh I couldn't have said it better! You are absolutely right. Unfortunately also as romans said "scripta manet" writing stays. So yeah many things also remain online so people do judge that and all especially since we have the pseudonyms so people feel safer to do so. That is both the blessing and the curse of internet. Oh well! ^_^

My friend I said before you do not need to have knowledge or whatever. We can even speak on what you experience through Epic the Musical and I can pitch in from the Odyssey. Like I said ironically I found Eurylochus much more solid character development than Odysseus as the musical continued lol! I will be glad to elaborate with parts of the Odyssey on him if you have an ask or something about him or just wish to talk about him more! ^_^ Your conversations are not just decent so far. They are amazingly insightful!

Hello!!

Since I've seen that you've listened to both Epic and Paris the musical, I was curious to know what are your toughts on them! Did you like how the myths and characters where handled? What do you like best and worst? (If you'd like to share, what's your favourite song/moment in each?)

Thanks :]

My my you really wanna get me have an even bigger target on my back than the one I put already! Hahaha! Ok so be it! Hahaha If this gets waaaaaay too long or too runty forgive me! ^_^

You have noticed from many of my comments and my notifications, memes or jokes. I am not a fan of EPIC. Not at all. I believe I am one of the most disliked people on Tumblr on mythology matters because I so openly speak my dislike against EPIC and being annoying about it! Hahaha! XD The thing I absolutely love about it is of course the guy's passion with the project, the way the music works and all (undoubtedly the guy is a very talented composer and can combine the scene with music and emotions and the tricks he uses with music are great) but the way the plot of Odyssey was twisted beyond recognition and to the point that to me you can literally change the names of the characters to anything else and still have the story he presents with the Musical. Maybe that was his goal but in my head that is not what a retelling or an adaptation is about. A retelling to me is not something that seeks to change literally as much as possible from the plot to fit the modern standards or the fanbase. A retelling is something as the word says that "retells the story" aka adapts the story as loyally as possible and adapts it to the audinece by taking creative liberties that are still generic to the story as it was originally told so that it will fit more to the modern standards or ear.

I believe we have so much twisted the word "retelling" that nowadays "retelling" seems to be equivalent to "let's change the hell out of the story because the original plot is not even THAT important to be salvaged and no modern person would watch it anyways" which in my opinion is not the case at all. Unless of course one writes satire. Then it doesn't matter, as I mentioned to another ask of mine.

I lost interest and was massively disappointed from the end of second saga and the song "Storm". The first two sagas were a masterpiece. The creative liberties were amazing to make sense with the plot and give the characters motivation (for example "I'm just a man" was FANTASTIC! The way the myth from Iliou Persis that gave us only one phrase "Odysseus kills Astyanax by throwing him off the wall" is now transformed into a marvelous emotional dilemma and a painful decision). In this case the creative liberty work WITH the plot and not against it. I didn't mind it as much that they made Polites a fluffy guy for no reason to fit that stereotypical "innocence of the team" plot because Polites is a clean slate character in Odyssey. However after Storm I started seeing your typical "Hollywood film 'adaptation' logic with changing stuff at the plot". I was intrigued at how they decided to give Polyphemus an excuse to kill like the guys enter a cave that is obviously habitable and kill an animal that is obviously domesticated and they do not know someone lives there? In the original it was clear someone lived there which made Odysseus curious to interract with them. I was willing to ignore that because ok creative liberties but then Athena was there!? And she gave Odysseus every opportunity to kill him while Odysseus was just "TOO NICE?!" like since when? Odysseus was all about killing him but he had no guarantee he would plus he needed him to open the cave. And the way he revealed his name in the musical was so rush and almost "out of spite" for Athena not a result of a secclusion in a cave for days and days and then his pride speaking up when Polyphemus called him a coward (which I tried to capture to my fic, not sure if I succeeded but still). So anyways at that point I was sure we wouldn't see the last of it with the changes. Poseidon destroys the ships instead of the Laestrygonians (no surprise there, rarely ever see anyone even mention the Laestrygonians yet alone show their contribution to the Odyssey) but then Circe happened and I just knew that we would have to derail from the original more and more

Circe's role was incredibly diminished for the sakes of making her actions more mellow and pass the message of loyalty and kindness. Circe in the original gives Odysseus valid information for his trip provisions and much more. In Epic not only we do not see the importance of Odysseus selling himself to Circe and we have Circe for some reason seducing him to kill him (removing her humanity from when she got scared that her magic won't work on him, potentially thinking he is some kind of god, begging for her safety to then suggesting her bed as Hermes predicts) I mean she had lions and wolves to her disposal she doesn't need to seduce him to kill him. Then of course Jorge realized that a big chunk of plot is missing and so he made Odysseus find out about Skylla by the sirens?! Like...okay... Even Tiresias gives him almost nothing (in the original he also tells him how to break the curse) Which seems interesting how Odysseus breaks down with "Monster" in Tiresias when he has received an act of kindess before. Wouldn't it be more amazing if he had that breakdown AFTER he paid the price with Circe with his own body? That even kindess has a terrible price? Of course the most iconic scene of the Odyssey after the murder of the suitors and Cyclops, the Sirens were twisted to whatever we had there; Odysseus listening to their song was of massive importance to his natural curiocity and we didn't get that (not to mention how would the sirens spell work on him and have Penelope there if he didn't hear their song in the first place?) and of course the fact that he kills them?! Like...how that even works I have no idea and like in the original people were running for their lives. Didn't even look back. Apparently they had all the time in the world to capture them, they knew apparently exactly how many they were and then they kill them?! Like I won't even say that they used the medieval mermaid instead of the sirens and then they "leave them drown" (how you drown fish people is beyond me! Maybe they are sharks that need to keep moving lol) and of course again that scene seemed to me that it was there only to show that "Odysseus is a monster" which makes no sense Odyssey-wise for many reasons. and then of course again Skylla; Odysseus doesn't gear up to protect his men, he is the one who chooses the sacrifice out of spite etc etc

Many others got sped up like the Helios cattle but ok I guess that is expected up to one point even if it could be handled differently but of course then we have also Zeus being a jerk and again making Odysseus choose? The storm that took the lives of his men was a natural consequence, not some twisted thing to prove how "monstrous" Odysseus is. In fact Odysseus tried till the last moment to sail away and save the lives he could (see my other analysis here) and of course again as many people said on God Games and all how Zeus was twisted yet another time although in Odyssey he had zero reasons to object apart from the natural hubris nemesis sequence. He never called Odysseus "shameful" either. In fact he says he agrees with Athena that calls him the most pious.

I think the massive change that I believe is abused by modern retellings is the whole "monster to man" trope. Odysseus losing his moral compass and "becoming the monster" and the plot around revolving to it. That was never the pont of Odyssey in my opinion. Odysseus never really lost his moral compass it is just his morality was not all pure and lovey in the first place. Was he changed by his experiences to be more ruthless in general? Absolutely but he was never changed to a monster according to Homeric version (because post-homeric versions already treat him as a villain from the get-go)

As for the things I liked about it, I had made a post you can see here:

I do love the harmonies and the music in it and I love the passion and the talents of the people in it. It is just that the whole plot for me is just not it. Also maybe I am also mostly annoyed with how the "fandom logic" has taken over it. Like internet getting swarmed by it. Epic quotes or facts getting literally mixed up or associated with the original or the fact we can no longer speak on the original unless someone brings up Epic the Musical... This annoys me to no ends. Of course I recognize the passion of the fans of the musical. Is just a personal thing to me. I felt the same when people were using Percy Jackson or Miller's books to talk on mythology before. Is the same here.

Of course I need to say this all the above is my PERSONAL OPINION. I have literally NOTHING against people who love the musical and the original equally. I am just NOT one of them. Also i have nothing against the artist either. I just do not agree with his outtake. Still appreciate his hard work. However when I saw the firsttwo sagas I knew this guy KNEW his mythology which is why I feel so disappointed that his later sagas felt like "Hmm...let me use that knowledge I definitely have on Odyssey just to change the hell out of it!" And that had me very sad and lowkey annoyed because I think this guy had some real stuff to create an actual Odyssey adaptation and yet again we had your average hollywood film plot where you barely see any of the plot he ellegedly adapts

Now on Paris the Musical I had answered another ask you can see here

I will not take more space on this already huge and runty post that probably made me more annoying and irritating around Tumblr! XD Generally again has little to nothing to do with Iliad but I loved the music (it was arguably one of the most original choices for music for a musical) and the songs I mention to the ask. Apart from that I am ot ecstatic by it either (arguably stage musicals do not seem to work for me when it comes to the ancient classics to a large degree because of how much the plots need to be overly simplified to fit the time frame) but I am more happy that it din't get blasted out of proportions like Epic was so the plot of it doesn't even need to be pointed out that it is not accurate and all. It is self-evident. The fact that the creator of Epic needed to "warn the fans" on how inaccurate his work is, speaks volumes to me.

I will close this runt now because is already too long. I think both Epic and Paris musicals have little to nothing to do with the things they adapt but Ironically Paris the Musical changed less stuff than Epic in comparison to magnitude. Both are passionate projects with great potential and very good music but plot wise I am not anymore surprised that they do not follow the actual plots or character developments. I am surprised that Epic was more accurate to the character development of Eurylochus than the main protagonist Odysseus! Made me focus more on Eurylochus than Odysseus! Hahaha!

I am glad that the musicals make more people willing to read the originals though. For that I am grateful.

And if I have to pick one song from each musical I would say "Just a Man" and "Business" respectably but of course I like others as well especially from Epic such as "Horse and the Infant", "Will of the gods" and "Storm".

I hope this answers your questions! I will elaborate further on some of the points I make here if you want! ^_^

[heliads]

Our Love Is...

Based on this request: "Reader and Peter are in their 20’s and live in the same apartment building. He works as a photographer. She’s currently starring in a production of Heathers: The Musical. Reader owns a black and white cat named Sylvester."

masterlist

Peter Parker is squinting at a brightly lit marquee, trying to figure out how he can make a familiar sign look any different than the scores of preexisting photos already out there on the Internet. A friend of his at the Daily Bugle is reviewing one of the latest musicals to take Broadway by storm, so Peter has been conscripted to get a few shots of the building so they have something to pair with their article.

Truth be told, Peter doesn’t know a whole lot about Heathers, but the playbill with its trio of brightly clad killer queens matches the vague murmurs he’s heard about it, so that’s good enough for him. He takes a step back, trying to fit the logo and a shot of the busy surrounding streets into the same frame. A few more, and then he should be good.

Peter’s just about to take his last shot, and then his gaze slips from the viewfinder to rest on the young woman coming out of the theater. She’s really pretty, dressed casually in a blue jacket that seems oddly similar to the red, yellow, and green versions up there on the Heathers marquee, and oh my god, that’s Peter’s neighbor, the one he’s been crushing on for what feels like forever, and she’s headed right towards him now.

Peter would love a chance to regroup his thoughts and possibly come up with some sort of battle plan, but it’s too late now. Y/N L/N is stopping in front of him, and the best he can do right now is try not to pass out.

She arches a brow at him. “I didn’t know you were a photographer.”

He musters up a weak sort of grin. “I didn’t know you were a part of Heathers.”

Y/N smiles proudly, which makes a wave of relief crest over him, new confidence eddying around his heart and hopes. “Yeah, I just started a couple of months ago. I play Veronica Sawyer.”

She gestures happily towards her blue coat, and Peter feverishly racks his brain for any sort of detail he remembers about the musical’s main character. His coworker had prepped him a little bit in case he ran into someone working on the show, but Peter hadn’t counted on his questioner being the one girl who makes his heart do loop-the-loops whenever he sees her.

“Ah, right. Veronica. She’s the main lead, right? The one who was played by Winona Ryder in the movie version?”

Y/N nods, thank everything holy, so he at least got that right. “Yeah, it’s a ton of fun. Are you here with the Daily Bugle? I think I remember them talking about a reporter coming by around now.”

Peter shakes his head ruefully. “Only as a photographer, I’m afraid. I don’t think the actual interview is happening for another couple of days.”

Is he kidding himself, or does Y/N look almost disappointed?

“That’s a shame, I’d love for you to see the show.” Y/N’s face brightens as she speaks. “Actually, you could come tonight, if you want. I’ll get the manager to save you a seat, free of charge.”

Peter stares at her uncomprehendingly. “You’d do that for me?”

She grins again, and he’s lost in her eyes as they shine at him. “Of course I would! You’ve been a fantastic neighbor. I think I’ve lost count of the amount of times I’ve had to ask you to help find my cat.”

Peter laughs at that. One of his first major interactions with Y/N happened in the halls of their somewhat crowded apartment building, trying to track down her black and white feline, Sylvester. Peter usually tries to stay away from new people, too used to surprise attacks by villains masquerading as friends, but for some reason he hadn’t been able to say no to her. Besides, she always invited him into her apartment for a chat or a cup of tea afterwards, and even on the first day Peter was so hooked on her that he would have followed her anywhere.

“Oh, I never minded that. I’ll see you tonight, I guess?”

Y/N smiles at him before disappearing back into the theater. “Can’t wait!”

He can’t wait either. This is basically the same thing as Y/N asking him on a date, right? Kind of, maybe bending a few rules and expectations, but pretty much the same thing. She wants him there, and that’s enough for Peter. He takes a couple more photos, then practically skips home. He’s got a sort-of date. Who couldn’t be happier?

Peter arrives at the theater a touch too early, but he’s so afraid of being late that he couldn’t help himself. He’s not sure if he’s dressed too fancy or not fancy enough, but then again, who’s going to be looking at him? Y/N, in his wildest dreams, but everyone else will be so focused on the show that they won’t notice the half-starved kid trying to fit in with the rest of the upper-crust enjoyers of the arts who are actually supposed to be there.

Still, when the curtain goes up Peter knows for a fact that he doesn’t want to be anywhere else. He hadn’t realized how taxing the role was until he’s watching Y/N belt at the top of her lungs, all while dancing or acting her heart out. Truth be told, Peter doesn’t believe that Y/N needs the first act’s quick-change makeover to be seen as beautiful, and he’s definitely jealous of her black-coated costar for getting to kiss her that many times, but all in all, it’s fantastic.

Plus, after the show is over (which seems way faster than it should be, all things considered), Peter gets to head out back and find her. He ends up talking to Y/N on a semi-rusty fire escape near the halls backstage, the night air crisp against the flush in his cheeks. He never thought he’d get a chance like this, but he wants it, he really does.

The thought occurs to him that he could tell Y/N how he feels about her. They’ve been dancing around it for a while now, he’s sure of it. Peter certainly likes Y/N, and she wouldn’t be looking at him with that soft smile that she reserves for celebrity crushes in movies and successful turn sequences if she didn’t. At last, he’s managed to gather up his confidence. It’s time. Peter can only hope that this won’t end in disaster.

“Y/N, I’ve been meaning to tell you something for a while.”

Y/N glances over at him, brow furrowing slightly as if she can tell that this is of the gravest importance. “Yeah, what’s up?”

Is it just him, or does she seem hopeful, as if she can tell where this is going? Peter has no idea. He doesn’t even know what he doesn’t know anymore. He’s pretty much coasting on adrenaline alone at this point.

“I-”

The sentence doesn’t get the chance to come out. Just as Peter opens his mouth to bare his heart once and for all, screams erupt from an alley about two blocks down. Peter can hear a couple of gunshots acting as percussion in the background. Whatever’s happening, it’s not good, and as Spider-Man, he has a duty to fix it. It’s a shame that this duty is getting in the middle of a conversation he really wants to have.

Peter briefly considers ignoring the active crime to spill his secret to Y/N anyway, but he knows that he can’t afford it. So, he cuts himself off, and forces himself to break away.

“I have to go. I’m sorry.”

Y/N’s face falls, which further illustrates Peter’s point that this would have been a great time to tell her how he felt. “Now? Why?”

Peter fishes around desperately for a good excuse. He can do that, right?

“I’m, uh, afraid of criminals, and there’s a robbery going on right now.”

He can’t do that. That was terrible.

Y/N raises a brow suspiciously. “You’re afraid of criminals? You work for a newspaper. I’ve seen your photographs of active crime scenes.”

Peter grimaces. “I never said I was good at my job.”

Y/N’s mouth flattens into a thin line. “Guess not.”

She turns away before he can do anything to fix this. “Goodnight, Peter. I hope you get a chance to say whatever was on your mind later.”

Peter extends a hand, but she’s already gone, disappearing behind a closing door. Peter watches her silhouette vanish, silently cursing himself for messing this up. He had no choice, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t regret what happened. The screams sound again, and Peter turns and leaps cleanly off of the fire escape, rummaging around in his bag as he goes for his Spider-Man suit.

Peter manages to wrap up the crime-saving portion of his afternoon in about forty-five minutes, and although it technically wasn't the worst job he’s ever done, Peter can sense that his heart just wasn’t in it. Of course it wasn’t, though, Peter just watched his heart break alongside Y/N’s on that fire escape. He has a responsibility to protect the city as Spider-Man, but he wishes it didn’t have to get in the way of his life like this.

Peter trudges slowly back to his apartment, bones aching with every step. He glances quietly over his shoulder as he unlocks his door, but Y/N’s room is dark and silent. She probably had another show after the one he attended, and she won’t get back for a while.

Just as Peter pushes open his door, though, a black and white blur beats him inside. Peter shakes his head slowly, almost wanting to laugh at this latest misstep of fate. Now he’s got to return the cat to a Y/N who doesn’t even want to look at him. He doesn’t think this day could have any more mistakes.

Y/N comes home about an hour and a half later, and even though Peter is terrified to see her after he left so abruptly, he doesn’t want to worry about Sylvester, so he picks up the cat and forces himself over.

He knocks once on the door, and seeing as Y/N probably knows it’s him, she takes her time in answering. Peter hates himself the second she cracks open the door; seeing her there, in the shadow of the hall, is a shameful sight. The shadows under her red-rimmed eyes are dark, and she leans against the frame as if she requires it to stay on her feet. He did this to her, by being so cruel, and it cuts him to the quick.

At first, Peter can scarcely do more than just hold out the offending cat in front of him. “Sylvester has escaped again.”

Y/N inclines her head once. “Ah.”

She wordlessly opens the door so he can walk inside, cat included. Peter knows that he’s probably supposed to put Sylvester down and leave again, but once he’s faced with leaving again the words spill out in a rush.

“I love you. That’s what I was supposed to say back there on the fire escape, and I should have just gone ahead and said it, but I didn’t, and I’m so sorry for hurting you. I love you a lot.”

When Peter manages to gather up the courage to turn around and face Y/N again, he doesn’t know what to think. At first, she just stares at him, and then all at once her lips twist up into a smile and he’s good again, he’s alright. It’s all alright.

“Took you long enough to say it. I thought you never would.”

Peter flushes in spite of himself. “In my defense, I kept trying to, but a lot of things kept getting in the way.”

Y/N gives him a disbelieving look around her grin. “What things? Your fear of criminals.”

Peter shakes his head once. “I’m Spider-Man.”

Her grin is gone in an instant. “Oh.”

It sounds no more absurd than his supposed fear of criminals, but maybe Y/N can sense that he’s telling the truth this time, because she looks so stunned that he knows she believes him. Y/N takes a moment longer to grapple with this, then she nods slowly.

“That makes sense, actually. You always had to leave because you were out protecting people. I get that.”

Peter winces. “I should have done better for you, though. I should have told you earlier, both things.”

Y/N starts to speak, and then she just walks forward and pulls him close. Peter’s fairly certain that a hug has never felt better in any other day of his life.

“Never mind that, alright? You’re here now, and I know why. I love you too, by the way.”

Peter smiles at last. “I think that’s the best thing I’ve ever heard.”

Y/N’s got that look on her face that she keeps only for when he’s being a dramatic fool, but this time he means it. Peter has photographed a thousand people’s miracles, seen weddings and funerals and parades for every little thing, but nothing has ever hit him like this. This is his, for one, this love. It’s both of theirs, and it’s perfect. Peter has never needed anything else.

marvel tag list: @namoreno, @thatfangirl42,  @rogueanschel, @mycosmicparadise, @ellobruv-blog, @caswinchester2000, @with-inked-solace, @sher-lokid7

requested by @thornyrose463, who also made this moodboard!

[mrpenguinpants]

Diluc: Comfort HCs

Oh no worries anon! We’re getting through everything and I can just see the top. I’m not sure if people saw it - probably not - but my entire blog has devolved into “See this genshin character? Animal.” and I refuse to have another cat character so I’m making Diluc a hawk.  

Apparently (maybe) Diluc’s bird is a nightingale [voicelines]. But I don’t really see Diluc the kind of guy to serenade you at night in secret because your father doesn’t approve of your marriage.

---

Today’s appreciation post goes to fulltimeventisimp. Tumblr throws a goddamn fit when I try to tag people (even though I literally have a tag list but that’s apparently not good enough) so I hope you see this^^ You’ve been so nice and caring to me I feel so soft 😭 and I hope you’re doing alright! I’m remembering to take breaks and rest  💕💕

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Semi Part 1: Relationship HCs [I would read this just for the last point]

Diluc Ver: Jealous HCs

[Masterlist]

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[taglist]  <- if you want to be added, please read this first.

@hanniejji​  @mikeysbike​ @unionwitch​ @musekala​ @twistedsunnshiii​ @stanzastic​ @akaasea​ @xoneaboveallx​ @adoring-ghost​ @asheseiler​ @childelover​ @dilucsz​

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Diluc: Comfort HCs

Diluc has always had either an aloof or professional persona based on who he needed to talk to. In both cases, no matter the subject or how Diluc talked, there would always be some sort of forced distance so no one would mistaken it as familiarity or friendliness. There were only a two cases where he felt comfortable and those were with close friends and his staff. The third case being Kaeya but Diluc prefers to not acknowledge him and stashes that folder away. Even with friend’s such as Jean or Elzer, he could never really relax and let his true feelings slip until you burst into his life. Literally. “An unexpected outcome of an experiment,” is what Albedo had told him but regardless, since you entered his life he’s let himself regress into his younger days and let himself take for once.

Maybe that was why you had gotten so used to Diluc’s touched starved self that, when it was suddenly gone, you were feeling uneasy. Lately Diluc seemed to be spending longer hours at his desk or working at the tavern. You knew that he was just busy and there wasn’t any underhanded reasoning behind it, Diluc wasn’t that kind of guy. But did he seriously have to spend every waking moment, day or night, talking to the same people? When was the last time you saw him for more than two minutes? Diluc isn’t a big fan of idle talking but would it seriously hurt just to catch up? You didn’t even get together to have your weekly chess matches too.

You didn’t consider yourself a very clingy person and you knew what a relationship with Diluc was going to be like so why were you getting so bothered? You decided to take the situation in your hands and go visit him at the tavern only to see him so busy at work. It both made you a bit huffy, you wanted to storm in there and drag the man away from his work so he could stop trying to speed run life - not like that would ever happen because the second hand embarrassment would make you dissolve into the ground and you could never show your face to Diluc if you actually did that - but also making you more upset. Here he was, working and running his business, and you couldn’t go at least a couple weeks without seeing him. You ended up turning around and going home to scream into your pillow and sleep the heavy feeling away.

Your inner turmoil seemed to seep out into the open that Kaeya felt the need to bring it up. As much as Diluc dislikes Kaeya around you, he really does care about you and he still does owe you for the troubles he gave you when you first started going out with Diluc. He catches you while you’re off running errands and manages to coax you into getting some lunch with him. You’ve been bottling up your feelings so much that when Kaeya shows some concern you let it all pour out. At this point you don’t care if it’s Kaeya of all people you’re confessing your feelings to, you just want to get it off your chest because the man you’re in love with doesn’t seem to notice you’re actually there and it’s making you feel insecure about yourself. Kaeya gives you a sympathetic smile and tells you not to worry about it, he’ll personally knock some sense into Diluc.

Diluc’s been hard at work on another possible Fatui plan and business with the winery that he can’t help but feel that he was missing something. Was he overlooking something? He had planned this for a while so everything should be perfect. It wasn’t until Kaeya himself had to walk in, press his hand on the tavern counter, and call him an idiot that he realizes that he had been so wrapped up in his work and personal duties that he completely neglected you. He quickly passes his duties to Charles with a quick apology, throws his coat on, gives Kaeya a very strained thank you, and he’s out the door to find you. He’s already lost so much so he’ll be damned if he looses you. Not right now. 

You gave him the key to your home after a few months of being together, in case his he needed to temporarily hide should his night activities get the best of him. He’s already at your door in seconds as he quickly unlocks and steps in. 

“Beloved?” he softly calls out to not accidently scare you but he receives no reply. It’s dark inside but he can see your shoes at the door so he knows you’re inside somewhere. He softly closes and locks the door as he hangs his coat up. Carefully running a hand down the fabric and beside your coat as he looks around your small home. He’s always felt it was warm even when you weren’t here. The “home” he has will always be the place he grew up in but after everything that’s happened, he feels a bit alienated in there so he always appreciated that you lent him a key.

He catches the sound of some shuffling and follows the sound to see you under your blankets. He breathes a quick sigh of relief that you weren’t in any danger as he carefully circles around your bed before gently placing a hand on your back. He’s never been good at words or communicating his feelings so he’s at a bit of a standstill. Despite his reputation of being a nobleman of high esteem, you’re his first serious relationship. As far as he’s concerned you’re going to be his only relationship for that matter.

“I...apologize for my recent behaviour. It was never my intention to hurt you. I ended up letting myself get too blinded to see you were in pain and that was my fault. You don’t have to forgive me now but won’t you let me see your face my love?” he asked in all his awkward pose, put him in front of massive event and he’ll perform with flying colours but put him in front of his partner and he stumbles over his worlds like a new born fawn. But it seems to bring a small laugh from you as you peek from under the covers. 

He smiles softly as he sees your ears flush pink. No matter how many times he calls you that you always get so shy, he adores it. But he can feel the guilt rise up in his chest, you’ve always been there to support and reassure him that he was doing everything right. That things were going to be okay when he re-took his father’s business and you would be with him every step of the way. So in the best and awkward way that Diluc can manage, he tells you this. By the time he’s done he can feel his own face start to pink but it’s made you feel better so it was worth it. 

“Feeling better?” he smiles softly as you nod up at him as he lays down beside you, opening his arms in comfort, “Good, come here.” 

You shuffle closer to him as he holds you. It’s been awhile since he’s held you like this and even without realizing it, he’s missed this. Just you and him together, basking in each other’s presence. No work that needed to be attended to. No Fatui trying to cause him any more trouble. It was a safe place and one he didn’t want to let go.  

“What if we got married?”

There’s a beat of silence. 

Then a thud. 

You end up scrambling and falling off your bed face first. It’s a bit silent as you give off a pain groaned and climb back up and he can see your face has exploded red. He can almost see steam coming off as you try and nurse your nose. He blinks a bit at you taken aback as you stutter and scream into your hands as your brain seems to process what he just asked. You lift your face from your hands to look at him, somehow go even redder, and scream louder into your hands. He’s not sure if this is something he should be offended or concerned about but the weight he had been feeling earlier starts to fade away as a new and familiar feeling bubbles up. For the first time in half a month, Diluc let’s out a laugh as he tries to console you as you manage out a yes.

---

Gripping my writing hand why is no one stopping me? Diluc you’re literally acting like Childe rn. [if anyone is confused ahem Childe: Fiancé HCs (should be in my masterlist)]

Also, I continue to look away from the lore. Kaeya and Diluc are not on the best of terms but if they can have petty rich lady wine talk then Kaeya can walk in and call Diluc an idiot.

I was serious when I said that I researched hawk behaviours. I have learned the internet is horrible in telling me how hawks behave. But I did find this and I found this hilarious:

In the case of the red-tailed hawk, for example, the pair soar, screaming at each other; then the male dives at the female, who may roll in the air to present her claws to him in mock combat.

[rpd-rookie]

The One Who Runs Away, The One Who Runs Back (Leon S. Kennedy x Reader)

Author’s note: This is a sequel to “A PAST WITH HER, A FUTURE WITH YOU” and the end of my three-parts fan fiction "I TRUSTED YOU WITH MY HEART" I decided to write after so many of you asked for it. Sorry it took so long but I was navigating from one fandom to another. (BTW, if there are any Devil May Cry fans up here, you can read my DMC fan fictions here) PS: Even if I said it before, I have no hate whatsoever towards Ada or Aeon.

Tagged: Angst, Fluff, Romance, Post-Break up, Sexual Content 

Part 1 / Part 2

***

Do you remember? We started this story by quoting some sitcom character that was clueless about love. Well, here’s a suggestion. Why not ending it by quoting someone who knew a little more on such matter.

William Shakespeare - you know that English dude expert on tragic ‘drink this poison, stab yourself’ kind of love - apparently once said ‘Love runs away from those chasing her, and those who run away, she throws herself on his neck’. I say ‘apparently’ cause, even though I have a master in English lit, this quote is from the internet, and also … who knows what the guy truly said?

But it’s the quote that’s important. Not the author. The quote it’s important because it sums up perfectly how this story is gonna end. However, before starting, let me tell you this quote is going to be the only Shakespeare-worthy sentence in this final chapter. You’ve been warned.

Love runs away from those chasing her.          Well, this part was definitely written for someone like Ada Wong. Owner of countless gold medals and possibly a world record at this point, that woman is basically the Usain Bolt of the ‘Running from Leon S. Kennedy’ competition. Unchallenged winner since the creation of this sultry version of cat and mouse game, it’s better not to think about the number of times she successfully ran away from her favourite agent.  But this year, this formidable titleholder in a gorgeous red dress will have to face her Nemesis in the championship. You. Though the comparison to the hideous bio-organic killing machine might not be very complimentary to you but you get the idea.  This year you enter the Kennedy Olympics. And this year you run like Sonic the Hedgehog and you win the damn competition (screw you Usain Bold!). And you do this with your head high and without an ounce of regret. Ignore all the texts and flowers Leon might send on your track Mario Kart style. His gifts are not as slippery as banana peels and they can easily be dodged, I promise. Well, most of the time, when you’re not lying on your bed in the middle of the night crying and sobbing while reading his messages or playing his voice in your voicemail again and again until you’re nothing more but a giant mess with puffy red eyes drowning in a puddle of your own tears.        Screw those messages too! And screw his broken yet terribly sexy voice as well!

Being a man of word, Leon kept his promise. And for months you kept on running peacefully, marathoning away from this past relationship that had destroyed you like no other before while tranquilly fixing your broken heart on the way. That run was a good cardio.

But sometimes, cardio is not enough, and even just the small sight of an overpriced whisky bottle or the smell of Leon’s perfume on some guy’s clothes is enough to reopen your wounds.           And when it happens, you always do the same thing, you break the damn bottle - and run cause damn! it’s expensive! -  or you tell the guy his perfume smells like cheap cologne and that he should definitely change it, which is an improvement on your past destructive behaviour, since there was a time shortly after the break up when you would have simply dragged the guy to your place to let him fuck you senseless while imagining he was Leon. All that just for the illusion to feel him again and for the sake to kick him out the next morning, screaming like a hysterical psycho.

So imagine, for a small second, the wave of intense feelings surging out of your healing heart when, in the middle of a cafe, you hear some dude sitting behind you ordering Leon’s favourite whisky while wearing the same bloody perfume. “It’s got to be relentless persecution at that point!” You sigh, already annoyed, closing your book more violently than intended. Hope you’re ready, stranger! Because you’re not in the mood to deal with this right now.            You turn around with a fake smile that reflects perfectly your irritation, ready to give him hell, your sharpest riposte already burning your tongue. After all, he deserves it and you can’t help it.         But when you meet familiar – and freaking gorgeous - baby blue eyes you freeze and stare, suddenly confused and lost and refusing to believe that in spite of the intense running, love just jumped at your neck after all and it was sitting there, taking the shape of Leon S(tupid) Kennedy.

You should have stood up and left, run for your life, run for your heart. And yet, you didn’t.    You stayed there staring at him looking at you, allowing all your memories, the good ones and the bad ones, all your buried feelings to come back from the dead, embracing them as if you had missed them, which, let’s be honest, you probably had.            You tried to scream to yourself “Come on, Y/N! Shake a leg!” but it seemed that what you brain understood was something like “Cum on him! Open your legs!” as a couple of blurry hours later, you were on Leon’s bed, legs wide open, screaming his name and begging him not to stop his amazing thrusts.

Six months, you ran for six months … Well, looks like the run ends here and now. After a minute-long deep stare, an afternoon of amazing sex and two hours long of something blurry in between.

“I missed you.” And there you were! The moment all couples that broke up have after one of them (in this case Leon with the infamous ‘I missed you line’) starts to believe they miraculously rekindled their love. The fatal post-coital cuddling session that you don’t know how to react to, as you think of all the possibilities before you.      Possibility Number 1) You tell Leon you missed him too and cuddle, enjoying that embrace you secretly yearned for months. But that includes forgetting what he has done or pretending that nothing happened.     Possibility Number 2) You push him away, get dressed, leave again and act as if this afternoon never happened. But if Leon doesn’t remind you of it, the ache between your legs will, that’s for sure!   Possibility Number 3) You jump him again until you sore even more and hope that you’ll be able to leave afterwards.         Frankly, all possibilities suck because, in all cases, it seems like you lose. Since,       with Possibility Number 1) you lose the run forever, with Possibility Number 2) you lose him again and with Possibility Number 3) well it’s result 1 or 2 + your body aching like crazy for days. I suck at math but no need to be Einstein to know the result of this calculation looks unpleasant.    So what do you choose?

You see a triangular dice rolling in your head, showing a never-ending succession of 1, 2 and 3 that doesn’t make any sense and that confuse you even more than you already are. 1, 2, 3, 2, 1, 3, 2 ! Oh for fuck’s sake!

You grimace, angry and pissed at Leon and probably even more at yourself, and finally leaves his bed and his strong warm arms, feeling the tears furiously forming in your eyes. “I can’t” You can’t look at him in the eyes. You don’t want to see his confusion, don’t want to see his pain as he witnesses all his hopes shatter to pieces.         “ What do you mean?” You can hear the sheets crease behind you, alerting you of Leon’s agitation, so you hurry and pick up all your clothes scattered in his room. You must leave, now. 2! 2 it is!  “This! All This! This afternoon never happened.” You tell him, putting on your clothes with sudden clumsy and trembling hands, not caring if your bra is correctly hooked or if you put your shirt on back to front. Your heart. You have to think of your poor heart first.          “Hey, hey, hey.” You feel Leon’s hand softly grabbing your arms and you let go of whatever you were holding right now. His voice is sweet and trying to be comforting. Don’t look at him Y/N! Don’t look at him! “Look at me.” You do. Damn it! And you see his gorgeous blue eyes staring at you, studying your flustered face and the tears slowly drowning your (colour) look. You missed those eyes. You missed them so.damn.much ! As much as you missed his hands cupping your face and his thumbs wiping up your tears. God! How many tears those thumbs have missed recently. “It’s alright.”

You want to believe him. You really do. But there is this voice screaming in your head and very clearly this time. A voice shouting, forcing you to remember that night, that awful nightmarish night, the one when you felt your heart break and your dreams turn to ashes. All that because of him and his obsession for her.

“No, it’s not alright, Leon.” You shake your head and miraculously manage to take a small step back. You never thought you could. But you had to. You can’t stay close to him. You can’t let him touch you, feel you. Not if you want to run away. And you have to run away. Like her! Like Ada. Ada! “I told you. For as long as you have feelings for Ada, I can’t … we can’t…”     “Please don’t talk about her.” He begs and rubs his hand over his face. Is he trying to chase her away from his mind? Is she still in here? Please, let her not be in here.    “But she’s the reason we’re in this situation now. She’s the reason why we’re in this mess.” You insist only for the sake to see his reaction when you mention Ada, to see if she’s still under his skin, somewhere. “Ada is not the reason. I am!” Leon corrects you, a finger directed at his heavy chest as he is putting the full blame on himself for the first time since that night. “I am the one who went after Ada when I shouldn’t have! I am the reason why we broke up! I am the reason why we are so miserable!”         “But I was fine!” You shouted back in an attempt to show him he was wrong refusing to listen to that part of you who knew he was completely right. You were miserable without him. “I was doing fine until you came back and fucked everything up! I was healing goddamnit!”             You felt new tears rolling along your red cheeks and quickly wipe them off with the back of your hand that felt so callous and rough in comparison to Leon’s gentle touch. “You can’t just jump back into my life like this and expect me to forget!”

Leon nods, agreeing with you in a certain way. But the truth is, he doesn’t want you to forget. He doesn’t expect you to erase his mistake. He just wants you to forgive him … No, he just wants you to come back to him. Period. And that’s got to be what you want to. It has to!   “So why did you have sex with me, huh?” He finally asks even though he already knows your answer. “Tell me!” You’re not the kind of person who has meaningless sex, not the kind of person who worships one’s body with divine kisses and devoted caresses if they mean nothing. “Why did you have sex with me?” And yet the answer he wishes to hear doesn’t come out. “For fuck’s sake Y/N! Answer me! Why?” He shouts making you shiver and cry even more.    “Because I LOVE YOU!” You finally scream. And it hurts. It hurts but it feels good too. Like a weight lifted off your chest. “Because I missed you too! Because those months without you have been terrible! Because I don’t know how to handle even just the thought of you or the sound of your voice in my voicemail. Because each time I see something that makes me think of you, I’m a mess and I do things that normal me would never do! You fucked me up, Leon! You fucked me up but I love you! And I hate to love you!” You grunt in pain and relief, enraged but happy that you finally let everything out. And Leon listens in silence, frozen by your powerful honest confession. But he doesn’t know how to react. He doesn’t know what to say. Part of him is overjoyed, ecstatic that you still love him but there is another part that just feels terrible, sorry for the pain your love for him caused you even in his absence.   “But you see—“ You continue “That’s the problem in our relationship, Leon! I love you in ways that are so intense, that go beyond sanity. And you love me by half.”    You see him crumple, his horrified face looking suddenly very pale as if he had just heard some dreadful news. Is that really how you feel? Is that how you see his love for you? Is that what he has made you believe?         “Goodbye Leon.”

With the full intention to leave Leon’s place for good and never come back, you grab you bag on your way out of the bedroom while carelessly shoving your underwear inside of it since you forgot to put them on in the midst of panic and precipitation. Get out of here, Y/N! Now! A reasonable voice encourages you. Listen to me!    But this not what Leon wants.

“I never loved you by half.” He declares and you abruptly stop, asking God if he’s some kind of sadist that loves seeing you in pain from the comfort of his divine sofa somewhere in heaven. “Never.” But it’s not God and his sadism that makes you turn around. It’s you, and your masochist love for that blue-eyed man before you.     “I don’t believe you” Your voice almost doesn’t leave your throat as you try not to sob.           “But it’s the truth.” He says with a calm soothing voice as he slowly approaches you. “I never imagined my future with Ada. I never wished to grow old with her or build a home with her.” You want to tell Leon to stop talking, to stay where he is but your body doesn’t seem to respond. And when you feel him grabbing your hands in his and the comforting warmth that goes with that simple touch, you know that leaving is now an almost impossible task. “Yes. I admit it. My feelings for her were real.” Even when his honesty hurts you, you don’t know how to leave anymore. “But they were nothing in comparison to what I feel for you.”     You try to let go, pulling your hands away from his loving grip but he holds you back. And you’re not strong enough. Or maybe, you just don’t want to be strong. Everything is so confusing. Everything is tearing you apart.     “But they’re still here, aren’t they?” You question, hoping his answer might give you a clue, might give you the strength to make the correct decision. Do you leave? Or do you stay? “And they’ll keep coming back each she goes back into your life. You can’t let go of her.”    “You’re maybe right.” His words hurt you more than you thought they would. They hurt like hell because you realise there are not the ones you wanted to hear. You wanted to hear him say that he would let go of Ada, for good, for you. You wanted to hear that because deep down … YOU WANTED TO FUCKING STAY! “But can you let go of your past?” He continues and you shake your head refusing to hear any other word coming out of Leon’s mouth.       “Don’t!” You beg, weary.           “No! Listen to me this time. Ada is my past, Y/N. She’s my past. And you … you’re my future. You’re my life, damn it!” He doesn’t cry but you don’t need his tears to sense how emotional and how honest he is. And suddenly, you just want to listen to him. “And I was a fool not to see it sooner. When you left me, I felt a void I had never felt in my entire life. I felt like a part of me was missing. And then, the bombing in Washington happened, and it was like I had nothing left. I needed you. I wanted you. You. Not Ada.”      “Leon” You whisper and he cups your face again, blue eyes staring deep into yours, allowing you to see everything in him, his strong love for you and all the weaknesses he hated to admit. “It was you in my mind. Only you. And it will always be you. Because I love you. Now. Today. And I will always love you.”

You cry even more, uncertain if those tears are tears of sorrow, tears of joy or a mix of both. God, how can your emotions be such a mess right now? How can you be wishing to shout at him with all the anger you’ve accumulated and, at the same time, willing to kiss him with all love you’ve got?

“If you got to believe something. Believe that. And if that’s not enough and you think you can be happy with someone else. Then go. I won’t hold you back.” You frown. He is fucking lying. You’re sure of it. “You can’t stop running after me and you know it.” He smiles and scoffs, sensing that hint of sudden defiance in your tone he enjoys a lot.  “True. I can’t sop running after you. But I’ll do my best not to catch you if that’s what you want. But you got to tell me. Is that what you truly want?” You don’t reply. Truth is, you’re not sure what to say not because you’re not sure that’s what you want but because you’re not sure you can trust him if you let him in again.                        “No.” You whisper. “No, that’s not what I want. I want you. All of you.” You can see Leon struggle to contain his growing joy as it starts to glimmer brighter and brighter in his irises. He doesn’t want to cry victory just yet. He is cautious and rightfully so. “But can I?”        “Want me?” He smiles. “ Have you completely?” You correct, searching for a promise in his eyes, one you hope, you wish he would not break this time.     “Trust me with your heart again and find out.”

This better not hurt this time…

[sleepy-belphie]

Hello! I don’t know if you’re doing headcannon requests but if you don’t mind could you do something along the lines of “the brothers find out mc likes to draw and drew the brothers”

Hi! I am doing hc requests so thank you for sending this in! It was actually really fun to write, I really hope you enjoy it <3 Got a little carried away with this one too lol

Tags: @kawaiiblack

~~~~~

Lucifer:

He’s doing room checks as usual

And you left your sketchpad/drawing tablet out on your desk

You catch sight of it a bit too late and can only watch as Lucifer moves from your dresser to your desk

He pauses as his eyes spot the sketchpad/tablet

He picks it up and looks at it before glancing at you

“May I?”

You nod and nervously watch him go through your work

His face is unreadable as he goes through drawing after drawing of him and his brothers

It feels like an eternity before he finishes

“Do you do commissions?”

It takes a moment for you to register what he’s said

“...what?”

“I’d like to commission you.”

If you do traditional art he asks for a 30x40 of him and his brothers

If you do digital art he asks for a colored, full-body piece of him and his brothers

He lets you decide how much you want to be paid

But he thinks it’s not enough so he pays you 55,000 Grimm

The 30x40 piece hangs in his study

The colored, full-body piece is printed, framed, and sitting on his desk

Mammon:

He bursts into your room one night when you’re finishing up a drawing of Satan and Asmo

You’re not fast enough to hide it from him

“Is that Satan and Asmo? Oi! Where’s my drawing!?”

Before you can show him anything else he’s speaking again

“N-not that I care! It’s hard to capture this perfection! I can see why you haven’t drawn me!”

He tries to act unbothered, but you can see past his tsundere ways

Once he’s done declaring how unbothered he is, you show him some pieces with him in it

He grabs the pad/tablet excitedly and snatches it from you to marvel over your work

“This is actually really good, ya know? I bet we could make some good Grimm off your little talent.”

You can practically see the dollar signs in his eyes

But you tell him that is not happening and take your pad/tablet back

He’s a bit mopey about it for a little but eventually lets it go when he sees you aren’t budging

When he does have a little bit of Grimm he does commission you for a small piece

The brothers’ eyes almost bulge out of their head when they hear that Mammon actually paid you for work

“What!? The Great Mammon can be nice sometimes! It doesn’t mean anything!”

It means a lot actually

But you’re a pro at reading between the lines with Mammon

Leviathan:

He’s on social media when he sees a drawing on his explore page that he’s absolutely in love with

The art style? Immaculate. He wanted to see so many of his favorite game and anime characters in this style

He imagines Ruri-chan in your art style and his brain just *internet dial-up noises* for about five minutes

He goes to the artist’s profile and starts scrolling through all their posted work

He pauses when he comes across a drawing that looked suspiciously like him in his demon form

The face was blacked out but the serpentine tail, the horns, the diamonds on the neck, the side zipped hoodie

It had to be him

In shock, he scrolls back to the top of the profile and checks out the bio and name of the artist

He is greeted by a very familiar face and name

He is in your room less than 2 minutes later

“You! Y-You did this!?”

You almost drop your pad/tablet thanks to his outburst and abrupt entrance

You look at the DDD that was shoved in your face and slowly nod

You thought he was gonna blow up at you for posting a drawing of him, even though his face wasn’t in it

You are very wrong

Levi becomes your #1 source of income

The moment you finish a piece, he is commissioning you again

You worry that he’s draining his bank account because he tips you very well

But he isn’t bothered at all by it

All of your pieces are on display in his room

He also posts all of your art on his social media and tags you

Your page explodes in popularity and the commissions are rolling in from his online friends

You had no idea otakus pay so well

Mammon is very jealous of the amount of Grimm you have piling up

Satan:

One day he asks you about your hobbies and you tell him you draw

“What do you draw?”

Cue internal conflict on if it’s weird to tell someone you’ve been drawing them and their brothers since you’re always around each other

He senses your hesitation and like the smart ass he is, he’s able to guess exactly why 

“Would your hesitance be because of the subject of your art?”

He knows too much for his own good

You decide it’s best for him to see it instead of telling him

Being a fan of literary art, you were worried he may be overly critical of your fine art

He was not the type to sugarcoat anything

However, he simply smiles and hands your pad/tablet back

“You’re incredibly talented, MC.”

A few days later he asks you to tag along with him while he handles something

That ‘something’ is going to feed some stray cats he’s come across

“MC, I’d like to commission you. I’ve found homes for these cats but I want something to remember them by. Will you help me?”

How can you say no to a man holding four cats in his arms?

You take some photos for reference and make four different pieces for him

When you give them to Satan, you swear you’ve never seen a bigger smile on his face

He framed them all and keeps them on top of his bookshelves

Asmodeus:

He found out through Levi’s social media

He commissioned you for a piece of him and the protagonist of a game he recently started playing

This piques Asmo’s interest and he wonders if you’ve ever drawn him before

He approaches you when you’re in the kitchen grabbing a drink

“Hi, darling. I saw the piece you did for Levi and naturally if you’ve done one of him you’ve probably drawn my beauty as well, right?”

You decide to show him since he brought it up

He’s gushing over all of your art

No, seriously, he is praising you so much even the tip of your ears start burning from your blush

He commissions you to draw him in many different ways 

Him in his bedroom, him in the bath, him as a mermaid, him as an exotic dancer

He comes to you with so many different ideas

He tests your limits but you actually like that

Beelzebub:

Beel is rather stoic, but he doesn’t mean to be

It was his resting face and smiling was usually reserved for eating yummy food

But you wanted to practice drawing him with different expressions

Beel’s welcoming manner gave you the courage to approach him and ask if you can take some pictures of him to use for a reference

He’s shocked you wanna draw him but agrees with the condition that he gets to see some of your other work

You show him different pieces of him and his brothers and he’s smiling the entire time

“These are all so good. I didn’t know you could draw.”

He commissions a piece of him and Belphegor and one of all seven brothers

But he also asks if he can watch you draw them

You both spend quite a few nights together

You drawing and him munching on snacks and feeding you some every once in a while

His presence is actually pretty calming so you ask him if he minds staying around while you work even after you finish his commission

Beel being Beel, agrees to keep you company

The night usually ends with him carrying you to bed

Sometimes, he takes you to his bed to cuddle

Belphegor:

Belphie was actually the first brother you drew

You came across him asleep in the attic once and he looked so perfect

Your fingers were itching to draw him, so you did

It became a routine for you to head to the attic and draw him while he slept

You always crept out before he woke up

You thought he had no idea of your little practice sessions

But one day you looked down to fix a mistake you made on his nose

When you looked back up you saw Belphie staring right at you

“You know, if you’re gonna draw me the least you can do is show me.”

You try to stammer out an apology as he sits up

“Oh, I don’t care. You don’t make noise or anything, I’m just very hyperaware of my surroundings. So I know when someone is in the same room as me when I sleep.”

He moves over to you and looks at your pad/tablet

“Hm, not bad MC. Show me your other work some time.”

Then he goes back to his sleeping spot, curls up, and falls back asleep

You sit there with your pencil/stylus in your hand, trying to wrap your head around what just happened

But he didn’t seem disturbed so you continue drawing

When he wakes up you show him more of your work featuring his brothers

He asks if he can have a quick sketch you did of him and Beel 

You jokingly say he has to pay for it

He actually pays you for it

He puts it up in his room

It’s nice to see when you visit him and Beel

[lexosaurus]

Upload Complete

A late fic for day 3 of dp side hoes week!

Character: Wes Theme: Denial

---

Wes held his breath, watching the upload bar slowly increase.

Uploading 94%

Anxious energy buzzed in his veins, but he was still. Frozen. As if a single muscle twitch would bring this all crashing down.

Uploading 95% 

It wouldn’t have been the first time his plans were thwarted at the last minute. Just last week he had been on his way home, camera in hand, when suddenly he felt the familiar chill of intangibility pass over him and his camera swiped from his clutches. He looked up to see Phantom, in all his egotistical glory, reach inside the camera, grab the memory card, and melt it in his palms.

Uploading 96%

But with each failure, months of countless iterations of the same plan, he had grown. He had learned. He had become more cunning, more discrete.

It really was only a matter of time before this day would come.

Uploading 97%

He was so close.

So close.

Uploading 98%

His mouth was a dessert. His hands clutched the edge of his desk, shaking. He couldn’t remember when the last time he blinked was, but it didn’t matter, nothing else mattered right now except how close he was he was so close. 

Uploading 99%

So close.

Finally.

After all this time.

It was happening.

Upload complete

A breath escaped his lips. And then another. And another. Until the breaths quickened, and sound followed. A laugh. A breathy, weightless laugh.

He leaned back in his chair, allowing hilarity to overtake his body. This was bliss, it was pure bliss. 

Wes stretched his arms out and stared up at the ceiling. 

He had won. 

After months of trying, he finally caught the perfect video showcasing the tail end of Phantom’s fight today with the infamous mecha ghost Skulker. Phantom sucked the ghost into his ghost thermos, flew behind a tree, and glanced around suspiciously for a brief moment before triggering his transformation sequence. Then, like icing on the cake, Foley and Manson appeared and had a conversation with Danny Fenton about the fight that Danny Phantom had just gone through. Fenton displayed the ecto-thermos and uttered the perfect lines about needing to “get him back to the Ghost Zone,” before turning his hand and the thermos intangible and shoving the object into his backpack.

The video was, by all accounts, perfect. Simply perfect. It was the exact undeniable proof that Wes had spent months trying to capture.

Now it was online for the world to see.

All he had to do now was share the link to the popular Phantom fan forum, sit back, and watch the internet work its magic.

If Wes was right, Phantom would be trending in an hour. News sites would be covering him by tonight. By tomorrow, everyone would know who—or what—Fenton really was.

A liar. An abomination. A danger to society. 

All because of Wes.

He was victorious.

This was—

---

—wrong.

Wes pressed a hand against the glass, his eyes wide as he watched as red streaked against the green splatters dotting the panel.

This was all wrong.

“Come to gloat?” an icy voice sounded from beyond the glass wall.

“I never wanted this,” Wes whispered. He couldn’t take his eyes off the green stains on the glass, on the wall, on the floor. It popped against the otherwise barren room, painting the bleached scene with a terrifying story.

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?” The voice coughed, and then groaned. “You did this to me, Wes. This is your fault.”

“I didn’t mean—”

“Shut up.”

Wes’s eyes snapped over to the figure beyond the glass. It was sallow, decrepit. Nothing more than a bony mess of black, white, and green in a torn jumpsuit.

And it finally connected in Wes’s brain where he’d seen Phantom’s uniform before. It looked exactly like the suits worn in ecto-science labs.

Because when he saw the ghost now, Phantom looked right at home. He looked like he was made to be a lab rat.

And that made Wes nauseous.

“I didn’t ask to be this way. I didn’t want to be—to be a freak.” Phantom’s head lolled back against the wall. A trickle of ectoplasm dripped from his chin, peppering the floor with even more green, but he made no move to clean his face.

Wes’s hand fell to his side. “I’m sorry.”

“I don’t care.”

“I’m gonna get you out of here.” His voice didn’t sound too convincing. It sounded pathetic, weak.

Phantom snorted, but otherwise didn’t respond.

“I will,” Wes reiterated.

“Whatever you say.”

His pulse quickened, and before he could stop himself he choked out, “I just need to know. I need to know. What—what are you?”

Phantom’s eyes narrowed, snapping onto Wes. 

Wes could have forgotten how to breathe. “Please, I need to know. Are you dead?”

“No.”

Wes’s blood ran cold.

“As in no, you don’t get to know what I am.” Phantom said. “You don’t get that privilege. Do you understand, Weston? You posted that video knowing that everyone, everyone, would see it, including the federal organization established to capture me. You knew deep down that this was going to happen. You just didn’t care because the only thing that mattered was that you were right and everyone else was just in too deep denial to see it, am I right?”

It was so hard to breathe. 

Phantom leaned forward, his head drooping down to his chest. “You took away everything. I have nothing left. So now you can just sit there for the rest of your life and think about the fact that you have no idea if the person who you condemned to a lifetime of imprisonment was human, or ghost, or something in between.”

“I’m sorry.”

“That’s too bad.”

“I’m trying to do the right thing, you know,” Wes said, frustration seeping into his tone. “I just threw away my life too by doing this. I can’t exactly go home either.”

“Oh what, am I supposed to thank you now? For ruining my life but then coming back to ‘save’ me?” Phantom snapped. “Shut the fuck up.”

He could have left. He could have just turned around and left Phantom to rot in this compound for the rest of his afterlife.

But no, he’d come so far. And as today, he was officially a criminal. 

He could never go home now. He couldn’t waste this trip.

And besides, he knew that he needed Phantom’s help in escaping the compound. This plan was a one way trip, put together after months of planning. Months of working with one of the most notorious hackers Wes knew online.

This was the best plan he had. But it wasn’t foolproof. 

“I can get you in,” the hacker said from the other side of the screen. “After that? You’re on your own.”

Wes nodded. “That’s all I need.”

Silas was silent for a moment. “You know, when you reached out to me on Reddit, I thought you were delusional at first. I thought that this plan would never work, that you were out of your mind. But I figured I’d entertain you for a minute. At least hear you out before I wrote you off completely.”

“And I’m grateful.”

“But now, Wes? Now I just think you have a death wish.”

“You don’t understand,” Wes said bitterly. “This is my fault. I need to get Phantom out.”

“You’ll kill yourself before you make it out of there.”

“Please, just tell me what I need to know.”

There was a fingerprint scanner mounted on the wall next to the glass pane. Wes approached it cautiously, trying to ignore Phantom’s eyes that tracked his every move, and stopped before the wall. 

“The hacker I’ve been working with programmed my thumb into this lock,” Wes said. “I’ll unlock it, then we run. Once we clear the door, you phase us out of here. Okay?”

Phantom didn’t say anything, but Wes didn’t need him to. There was no alternative plan, no other way to make it out of here intact. It was either this, or they both die.

Wes lifted his trembling hand, pressing his thumb to the scanner. The scanner came to life, lighting up green as it read his finger print.

For a moment, nothing happened. Deafening silence permeated the room, the mounting pressure slowly suffocating Wes’s lungs. Each millisecond that the scanner spent on his thumb felt like an eternity.

And then, just when he felt like he was about to collapse, the scanner turned red.

Time stopped. Wes’s eyes widened, and he drew in a short, shuddering breath. 

No. 

The blaring started.

NO!

The room filled with red light and high-pitched wailing. Wes’s legs cemented to the ground, and all he could do was turn his head and watch in horror as Phantom’s terrified eyes rolled to the back of his head before the ghost collapsed on the ground.

This wasn’t happening. This couldn’t have been real.

How did their plan fail?

Wes heard the door open, and the sounds of footsteps filled surrounded him. He couldn’t turn around, he couldn’t watch as his worst fears unfolded in front of him.

“So you were the rogue fingerprint,” a deep voice from behind him said. “You know, we thought it was odd when all of the sudden one day, a twenty seventh fingerprint suddenly was logged into the scanner seemingly overnight.”

No…

“Teenager, huh? Always think you’re invincible.”

Wes opened his mouth, but no sound came out.

His body was numb. He couldn’t feel his limbs. His brain was screaming at him to run, get out of here, but he couldn’t move. He was frozen, not because of anything the government had done to him.

No. It was fear.

“Too bad for you, you’re not as invincible as you think you are.”

---

Thanks for reading!

[kuiperblog]

The first 1% is always the hardest

Usually, the hardest part of acquiring a new skill is starting it for the first time.

When you’re at an intermediate level of progression, you can usually just increase your skill level by incrementing up the difficulty linearly.  If you’re a novice weightlifter and your best overhead press is 125 lbs, try adding 5 lbs to the bar and see if you can overhead press 130 lbs. (If not, keep lifting 125 lbs every few days until that becomes “easy,” then challenge yourself with 130 lbs again.)  If you can do 10 push-ups, you will probably reach the point where you can do 11 push-ups, and 12 push-ups, and 15 push-ups, and 25 push-ups, and so on.  The hardest part of lifting is day 1, when you might be performing certain motions for the first time in your life, and challenging your body to work muscles that you didn’t even realize existed.

I imagine the same is true of other fitness regimens: once you’re able to run a 9 minute mile, you probably have what it takes to run a 8:30 mile, or a 8 minute mile, if you keep at it.  Eventually you’ll hit a plateau and the limits of human performance, but the first day in the gym is always the hardest.

This is sort of how the trajectory of my writing career went.  And having talked to artist friends, and musicians, it seems like all of them followed a similar trend: they found a thing, they stuck with it, and over time found themselves advancing along that path bit by bit.  It became a hobby or a routine such that over time, by  by investing a bit more time, or a bit more effort, or challenging themselves a tiny bit more, they got better at it.  And over years, the compounding returns of that meant that the girl who got a drawing tablet at age 14 found that by the time she was 22 years old, she had enough artistic skill to make enough money from her art to make a living.

I think that in a lot of cases, people were able to start down that path of gradual self-improvement in part because they were able to somehow bypass the hardest part of it -- they blazed right through the initial difficulty without even realizing it.  They couldn’t even really answer the question of “When did you start drawing,” because they’ve always been drawing since the days that they were just doodling with pencil in paper at school. Maybe they just really enjoyed playing outdoors as a kid, and played soccer because it was fun, and made the seamless transition to being a high school athlete. In my case, I spent a lot of time writing long-winded forum posts explaining the finer points of topics I was passionate about (which, at age 13, was mostly Pokemon and Final Fantasy), and somehow by my 20′s I had enough of a penchant for explaining things that I was able to parley that into a writing career (so I can get paid for my long-winded explanations of Pokemon-related topics).

The early days of learning to write kind of sucked and were difficult.  (For starters, remember how unintuitive that QWERTY keyboard was the first time that you learned to type? Remember how painful it was to hunt-and-peck your way through sentences at an effective rate of <10 words per minute?)  But my desire to talk about Pokemon on message boards overwhelmed any difficulty or “suckiness” involved with learning to express my ideas through text, and so the suckiness of those early days wasn’t really much of an obstacle.

More and more, I’ve come to believe that the most important part of learning a new skill is finding a way to get over that initial difficulty hump -- of finding a way to survive the first day, and then the first week, and then the first month, and eventually reach a point where inertia carries you forward on a gradual upward slope of self-improvement where you’re not even consciously thinking too hard about improvement; you just randomly muse to yourself one day, “Oh yeah, this barbell I’m picking up weighs about 100 lbs more than the barbell I was lifting a year ago. Fancy that.” The longer you keep at it, the easier it is to stick with it.

In many corners of the internet, there’s an oft-repeated adage that “Watching anime won’t teach you to speak or understand Japanese.”  And sure, that’s obviously true on some level. If someone is thinking they’re going to spend a thousand hours watching subtitled anime, and then one day flip off the subtitles and be able to follow everything without missing a beat, they’re probably a bit delusional. If you want to actually achieve anything approaching Japanese fluency, you’re probably going to have to take a Japanese learning course, and engaged in spaced repetition to pick up and retain vocabulary, and all of the other stuff that goes into learning any language.

But I think that watching anime does provide you with one big advantage: it goes a long way toward helping you cross that “day 1″ hump. Because the first day is always the hardest. Going from 0 to 1 is harder than increasing your vocabulary by a few new words every week.  Before you can get the compounding returns from incrementally improving at a skill, you have to have a starting principle.  And I think that watching anime is actually quite good for that, because only knowing “weeaboo Japanese” will give you 20-30% of the vocabulary that’s included in your first couple Japanese lessons.

I’m speaking from personal experience: it’s incredibly heartening to go through a lesson and encounter words that I’m already familiar with.  Even if my fluency in “weeaboo Japanese” only covers 10% of what’s introduced in a given lesson, having a head start gives me an intangible confidence boost which makes it easier for me to focus on and retain the other 90%.

I don’t want to understate the importance of that intangible confidence boost: a lot of language acquisition is getting comfortable with a language, and repeating something so much that you do it without even thinking about it. For example, in English, sometimes sometimes someone might ask you “how’s it going?” and you might answer “fine” before your brain has even consciously registered the meaning of what you were hearing, or saying. And I’m enough of a weeb that I can hear i tenki desu ne and immediately reflexively respond with sou desu ne, before my brain has even consciously registered the question being asked (sometimes taking several seconds to mentally backtrack and realize, “Oh right, the “i tenki” part means “nice weather.”).  But years and years of listening and pattern recognition have taught me that when someone ends a sentence in desu ne? with the sort of inflection that says “I’m asking you a rhetorical question,” the proper response is probably sou desu ne, and my brain produces that response just as reflexively as it spits out “I’m doing fine, how about you?” any time someone asks “How’s it going?”)

One thing I’ve come to notice is that every lesson begins with some of some amount of review, giving you that spaced repetition, and providing context for the new words and concepts that the lesson is about to introduce, and generally provide a foundation for the new material.  Day 1 is, by necessity, the exception -- how can you “review” material that you’ve never covered before?  But for me, the day 1 lessons on how to say nihongo and arigato and watashi and anata were already “review” of topics that I picked up through years of being a weeb.

Besides that, there’s the fact that the structural elements of Japanese are something that my brain was naturally able to grok in a way that is intuitive to me after spending years listening to spoken Japanese even though most of it is contextual. (Like, I’m not sure when this happened, but at a certain point I think my brain just kind of learned, when listening to Japanese sentences, to approximate which parts were the verb and where certain clauses landed in the sentence, if only because when watching anime with subtitles you become consciously aware of when a character’s name appears in the dialog.) I’m not really consciously thinking about it, which kind of feels like the “natural” way to learn a language.  (After all, it’s not as if native English speakers, as toddlers, consciously think to themselves, “Ah, it seems as though English typically follows a subject-verb-object grammar structure.” Kids just listen to adults speaking English and form sentences that way without really having to be formally taught.)

It’s highly likely that at some point in my internet career that I have at one point been the cynical message board poster telling someone that, contrary to their fantasies, watching anime isn’t going to help them learn Japanese in any real or material way, and if I’ve ever suggested that, it’s time for me to eat crow.  Because while the advantage that “weeaboo-level Japanese” gives you might be small, and only help you on the first few days of Japanese class, those are the most important days, because the first 1% is always the hardest.

My familiarity with “weeaboo-level Japanese” has only given me one disadvantage, and that is that years of memes have poisoned my brain to the point where the first I was prompted with “say ‘excuse me’ in Japanese,” my brain (and mouth) immediately spat out “sorrymasen,” and I wish I could say it only happened once, but it wasn’t until around day 3 that I managed to fully train this habit out of myself.

[some-kindofgnome]

Kinktober #9: Elevator Pitch: Hawks

In which you and Hawks spend some quality time together, and you’ve spilled coffee on your shirt.

Characters: Takami Keigo (Hawks) / f!Reader

Warnings: smut (18+ please!), vaginal sex, up-against-the-wall-sex, partially-dressed, semi-public, uncaffienated sex, stranded/stalled elevator, hawks is a smarmy piece of shit

Notes: Okay, enough feelings! Only porn. What better way to jump back on the thirsty bandwagon than with everyone’s favourite smug bastard? Today’s prompt was ‘In Public,’ and while this isn’t the most public of public places to have sex, it’s definitely one that I’ve been thinking about... a little too often.

Kinktober Masterlist

“What was that?”

The elevator gives a sickening clash and lurches to a stop. You look up so fast you can feel the strain in your throat, glancing suddenly back to the control panel to see if it can possibly offer you any more information.

The lights die over your head, plunging the elevator into darkness. You give a little scream.

“That’s not good.”

The voice next to you is familiar but grating. Of all the people to be stuck in an elevator with, it has to be Hawks.

He runs the agency two floors above your office. But your companies share many of the same amenities- these elevators, to name one- and you’re unfortunately all too familiar with the self-serving hero.

As if things aren’t bad enough already.

Your manic Monday is already off to an excellent start, proven by the coffee stain on the front of your blouse. Apparently, the morning train was just a little too crowded to be careless with your latte-the half that didn’t get sloshed all over your front ended up on the floor- so here you are, trapped in the dark with the dull edges of a caffeine headache already beginning.

“Hang on-“ It’s Hawks again, and before he finishes his thought the emergency lights flicker to life. He seems entirely too relaxed given the situation. It’s pissing you off. He’s leaning against the opposite corner of the elevator with his wings tucked neatly behind him, arms folded across his chest.

He looks you up and down.

“Damn, you musta put on a few pounds if you’re heavy enough to short out the elevator.”

“Don’t even start,” you hiss. Your headache is getting worse. Spending nine floors with Takami Keigo was supposed to be bad enough already. You don’t have time for this.

“If anyone was going to be too heavy for the elevator, it’s you,” you snap back. You brush past him to the control panel and he starts a little as you push yourself between it and him. His wings give an alarmed little flutter and he steps aside, opening the space between you again.

You’re jamming your thumb against the ‘call’ button, but nothing seems to be happening. You’re not altogether sure how this is supposed to work- you’ve never been stuck in an elevator before. But Hawks looks as though it’s happened to him on a weekly basis. You suppose he sees worse on the daily, given his line of work.

“I don’t think anyone’s comin’ for us, kid.”

You glare over your shoulder at him, hearing the smirk in his voice. He raises a gloved palm to his mouth and yawns. Then he stretches, and his wings follow suit. He can’t extend them fully in here, but you’ve still forgotten how big they really are.

“Might as well get cozy,” he sighs. He slides down the wall, stretching a leg out and hooking his elbow over the other knee, bent.

“No thanks, I’ll stand.” You toy idly with the front of your skirt, brushing an invisible coat of dust from it. It’s when you notice him watching you that you stop and furrow your brow. He’s staring right at your chest. Not even trying to hide it.

You’re just about to say something when his eyes flick up to yours and his smirk, if possible, gets even lazier.

“Rough morning?”

You fold your arms over your chest, hyperaware of the coffee stain that you had conveniently forgotten about seconds before. That doesn’t change the fact that you’re permanently ticked off at him, though.

You decide that he’s not worth answering and avert your gaze. Sullen silence settles over the two of you for a moment. Finally, he chuckles, shaking his head.

“Let me ask you something,” he prompts.

“No thank you,” you answer.

“No, no, that’s exactly it. You don’t like me. I’m not an idiot, kid. But the thing is, I’ve been wrackin’ my brain, and I can’t think of one thing I ever did to deserve it.”

You swallow. Hard. Your cheeks are going hot. The truth is, you’re not entirely sure why you don’t like him.

You’d like to say it’s because he’s self-serving and arrogant. Because he saves people for the clout and not because he cares about their safety. He’s only ever been snarky and sarcastic to you, and you’re sure he treats his staff like garbage. He soaks up the celebrity status like a goddamned sponge.

You’d also like to say that you’ve followed his career so closely for the same reasons. You scour the Internet for stories about him and save newspaper clippings from your coworkers’ subscriptions, looking for evidence that your claims are true. You need to hear somebody else talk about his arrogance because it pisses you off to no end how obsessed with him you’ve become.

“I don’t… I like you,” you scoff. If you could press your back even further into the elevator wall, you could.

He laughs. Throws his head back and laughs and you want to disappear.

“You treat all your friends like that, kid? No wonder you look so sour all the time.”

That does it. You’ve had enough of Hawks, enough of this elevator and this damned headache. You’ve had enough of today.

“Alright, fine. You wanna know why I don’t like you?” Your eyes narrow. Your arms tighten across your chest. Hawks gets to his feet. He’s not all that much taller than you, but he seems to tower over you in the narrow space.

His tawny eyes narrow as he tilts his head, serious but inquisitive.

“Enlighten me.”

“You are the most egotistical, self-centered person I’ve ever known,” you hiss. “You treat women like they’re disposable, you-“

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” he stops you, holding up his palms. “Like they’re disposable? What in the hell gave you that idea?”

“You’ve got a different girl on your arm every week,” you retort. Later you will sink into your desk and expire as you remember saying these things to him, but he asked for it. And you’re starting to get claustrophobic.

“So what?” He shoots back.

“So what? So what? So what makes you think you can go around breaking hearts like that? You’re gonna make some enemies, y’know.”

“Sweetheart, those girls don’t want anything to do with me, either. No false pretenses there. I think you just don’t like seeing me with other women.”

Your stomach lurches, rejecting the idea. But you know that it’s true.

“Don’t be ridicu-“

“No, it’s my turn to speak now,” Hawks growls. He steps closer, caging you against the elevator wall. Your cheeks and ears are burning. One step closer and the coffee on your blouse will start to boil all over again.

“If you’re jealous,” he hints, bending down to whisper in your ear, “I’d be happy to treat you like those other girls, kid. All you gotta do is ask.”

“Hawks-“ you choke. He’s so close now that there’s no way you can pretend you don’t want this. You can feel the heat of his body radiating against yours, the soft, spicy Monday morning scent of him filling your senses.

He grins, and his lips brush the crook of your neck.

“That’s what I thought.”

In the next second his mouth crashes down on yours and you’re kissing him back. You from ten minutes ago would be disgusted at the sight of this, but you can’t even deny wanting this. Not when he’s giving it to you. Not when you didn’t even need to ask for it.

You’re not shy about combing your fingers into his disheveled hair, tugging him closer to you. Already he’s tugging the hem of your blouse out of the top of your skirt. He rips off his gloves and pops open a few of the buttons without even breaking his mouth from yours. It’s only as he digs his fingers into the fabric and pulls the folds open around your chest that he pulls back to have a look.

“Look at you,” he growls. “So fuckin’ gorgeous. I wanted you from the second I met you, y’know that?”

You consider pinching yourself. But you don’t want to give him the satisfaction. Instead, you hook a palm around the back of his neck and pull him harshly down to you again.

“Shut up,” you hiss, dragging his mouth back to yours. Your hands wander, pulling the strap of his belt out of its loop and giving it a harsh tug. It pulls tight and he grunts, then you let go and let the buckle fall open. You reach in further, going for his fly. He lets you. As you dig your hand into the opening of his pants you realize that he’s already hard- already rock hard.

Maybe he really meant what he said.

You shove his pants down around his knees and he grabs you by the backs of yours, hiking your thighs over his hips. His hands crawl up your thighs and under your skirt. He finds the strap of your thong and you nuzzle into his shoulder to keep yourself quiet as he swipes a thumb up your clothed slit.

“Fuck,” he groans in your ear. “Soaked for me already, sweetness. God, lemme have you.”

He shifts his hips forward and presses the head of his cock against your entrance, easing forward until he’s sure he’s lined up correctly. Then he rams into you without warning and you nearly wind yourself on his shoulder as all the air from your body rushes out at once.

“That’s what I thought, baby,” he growls, starting into a brutal rhythm. “You’ve wanted this too, haven’t you? Fuck, why didn’t you say something? I coulda been fucking you this whole time.”

You’re in the clouds at this point. The words he’s growling into your ear are blurring together, clouded by the immense pleasure that he’s sending through your gut with every thrust. He fits you perfectly, it seems, and you’re already drawing embarrassingly close to the edge.

“Hawks,” you practically sob, your head lolling against the wall as he fucks you into it. “Can’t hold on- gonna… g-gonna..”

“You’re gonna cum for me, sweetness? That’s it. That’s it. Cum for me, sweetheart, aw, hell, I’m there, baby.”

His voice is growing shaky now, his thrusts erratic, and as the elastic band draws tight in the pit of your stomach you realize he’s not far off, either.

He gives you one, two, three good thrusts and you’re falling, coming so hard around him that your vision whites out for an honest minute. Currents of tension rush from your head to your toes as you clutch at his back and whine and pant through your climax.

He follows close behind you, driving his hips into your sensitive pussy before drawing abruptly out of you and coming in long spurts against the inside of your thigh.

For a dozen heartbeats, the two of you are still, catching your breath. Settling into what you’ve just done.

The emergency light flickers as the regular lighting returns. The elevator gives a telltale beep and a shudder and starts heading downward. Your brain short-circuits.

“Get off,” you hiss, shoving him off you. You tug your skirt harshly down around your thighs, hiding the mess as he hurries to tuck himself back into his pants and zip up. You’re two floors from the lobby when he turns back to you and starts.

“Your shirt.”

“Oh, shit.” Your fingers race to the buttons on your blouse and you fumble to get them fastened again. He reaches over to help but you bat his hands away as the elevator draws to a stop. You’re just finishing the last button when the doors slide open, revealing the surprised faces of a coverall-sporting technician and your boss.

“There you are,” she gasps, relief flooding her features. “The power went out and they told me people were still stuck in the elevator, I- good morning, Keigo,” she greets, giving a little nod of acknowledgement to Hawks, who’s taking his time strolling out of the elevator with his hands in his pockets.

“Mornin’,” he greets idly. Then he calls your name, and you look past your boss’s shoulder. He’s smirking, his eyes lit with the memory of what you’ve just shared.

“See you around,” he calls. Then he’s gone, and your boss is asking you some sort of question, but it flies straight in one ear and out the other. Your teeth sink into your lower lip. Every time you close your eyes you remember him, groaning in your ear and forcing himself into you.

You are so fucked.