#but I'll write about that in another post

[sporadicallyanenthusiast]

First of all, let me just thank you for taking the time to explain all of these points! There were many contexts here I didn't know about and it helps make more sense of the story! So thank you so much ❤️

And the thing about Ancient Greek and color is really fascinating! Kudos to the people that first began translating the ancient texts, because oh boy! Hahaha @mari--lace also mentioned in the replies how it is not a consensus on Athena's eye color either. I've only ever heard about the "wine colored sea" point, but never had the thought to dig deeper and learn more. I am definitely going to change that hahaha There are so many interesting things to learn, no wonder so many scientists have been studying the topic for centuries.

I'll have to admit, our poor Menelaus really did suffer a lot, dear Gods. Since my first contact with him was through the Odyssey and some fandom posts, sometimes I forget Agamemnon was his brother. And yes, as much as he loved Odysseus, learning about your brother's death like that can't be easy to digest. And the timeline of how long he stayed shipwrecked was a little fuzzy to me, so it makes sense that after 7 years, his memory would be hazy! I see what you mean when you refer to it as a vision/dream now. I didn't know Aegisthus had them exiled either, so that definitely adds even another layer to the hell Menelaus' life was at that time! We talk so much about Odysseus' hardships, but oh my, poor Mene didn't catch a break either, I'm appalled 😰 I have yet to wrap my mind around the fact the the poems were supposed to be performed out loud as well. A lot of the narrative choices make way more sense when you remember that, it's not just a regular book. I suppose that is why some things sound jarring when you read it for the first time.

And yes! Oh my, I never thought the texts would be so expressive and so warm, you know? We tend to have this idea that people from different times were too cold and distant, but they were still human at the end of the day. Of course they'd be affectionate to the ones they loved! And to be honest, it reminds me of when I read Sherlock Holmes for the first time. It really caught me by surprise how Sherlock and Watson were described and how they talked about each other in such a loving way. I don't know when we stopped writing platonic relationships so beautifully like that, but it truly is a loss to modern literature, in my humble opinion.

And I had no idea about Odysseus' own prophecy! I did know he tried to avoid going to war, but I just assumed it was because he had a newborn son and wanted to be there for Penelope. In that scenario, it really is fair to point out Menelaus trying to warn them wouldn't change much. On that note, Athena herself also told Telemachus Odysseus was alive and he didn't believe her, the Wisdom Goddess hahaha I hadn't thought about that before, but it really does illustrate how hopeless all of them were. If Telemachus didn't believe Athena, you're right, he wouldn't really care about Menelaus' letter either.

I knew about the law of Xenia, so I assumed that was the only reason stopping them from sending the suitors away. I admit I was a tad bit confused why Telemachus didn't force the suitors to leave once he outright had Athena's and Zeus' blessing, so your explanation really helped me make sense of everything!

It's such a nice and sweet detail to have Telemachus and Odysseus going through their journeys at the same time (Telemachus' first journey and Odysseus' last journey, even!), only to meet again at home and taking back control of their palace together. Maybe I teared up a bit, can't deny nor confirm hahahahaha

You are still way more knowledgeable on the topic, and your academic background gives a perspective other people might not have. So I think it's fair to call you as such 🥰❤️

Oh, I see! Sorry, I'm a bit too anxious at times and end up worrying too much that I gave the wrong impression or was rude by accident hahaha

This has been a lovely discussion indeed! Once again, thank you so much for being so kind to explain everything, I'll definitely be reading the books with new perspectives and insights!

Telemachus is so much stronger than me for real. Cause if I had traveled for days, by sea AND land, arrived at the palace of my father's friend and my mother's cousin to humbly ask if they know anything about my missing father and instead of just fucking telling me already, this mf started a monologue about how gay he is for my dad and about the time he captured a God that granted him wishes three, I'd already be telling him to Hurry The Fuck Up. IT'S BEEN TEN YEARS, I DON'T HAVE ALL DAY.

But if the same motherfucker then turned around and told me that he had known FOR YEARS NOW that my dad is trapped on an island AND THE MOTHERFUCKER DIDN'T TELL ANYONE!!!! NOT A SINGLE LETTER!!! I would have already strangled Menelaus with that fucking blond hair of his in front of his wife and children, unhelpful son of a bitch.

[messrsrarchives]

You’re starting to act just like your fascist Reggie—censoring others and trying to dictate what can and cannot be discussed in fandom. Telling people they can’t talk about politics because you, living in a first-world country, can’t handle it? You’re the one using real-world politics to justify a fictional ship with a fascist. Have you thought about how people who are genuinely anti-fascist might also dislike it in fiction? You can’t control fandom. If you want to like fascist characters, then just own it. While fiction might not feel like reality to you, for many, it is reality. Have you considered that the characters and headcanons you enjoy might reflect deeply personal experiences for others? Not everyone has the privilege to separate fiction from reality like you do.

hi feed, this message was brought to you by someone who has clearly never interacted with me ever !

WDYMMM "telling people they can't talk about politics" 😭😭 i fear that's my ENTIRE niche across two social media platforms. i fear my entire thing is politics in a fandom space + the real world. i fear that's literally what i'm known for. what 😖

i was gonna ignore this but i have so many receipts that i thought okay ! finna answer ! why not, let's entertain this <3 (below the cut because it's long)

assuming that this is a response to this post where, after watching elon perform two nazi salutes on stage, i said "hey! maybe you should stop calling people in fandom nazis for reading about a fictional character!"

what i alsooo said on that post is that it's important to discuss politics in literature (see here: doing a masters degree in english literature + politics <3). because absolutely! the DEs are crafted in a way that reflects historic events and absolutely, that's something we can discuss!

what we should also discuss is that whilst art imitiates life and life imitates art, the two do not directly reflect one another - if i read about wizards, i am not a wizard. if i read a crime book, i am not a detective. and if i read fanfic about regulus black? i am not a facist.

in regards to the censorship comment: this here is an entireeee video i made about censorship and puritanical views in fandom spaces and why this is a Bad Thing To Do (though i fear you will disagree with it because i am saying that people can read and write whatever but alas, no censorship here x)

using real world politics to justify a ship? no, not at all. i do not think ships in fandom need to be "justified" because, again, they are fiction. can they be discussed? absolutely! my tiktok is @/messrsrobyn and you will find countless videos where i dissect fandom, characters and ships. again, this is kind of my whole thing <33 nice to meet you <33 but rather for me? that post was made as a building up of (1) the mass of people in fandom during the tiktok ban saying that words have meaning when american writers say british words "wrong", but throw buzzwords around like it's nothing and (2) this is a place for escapism and safety, which is needed now more than ever and whilst discussions about politics are important, this? this ask? this is not a discussion. this is hostility, much like people just commenting "nazi" with nothing else on a jegulus post.

discussions can be had! absolutely! my entire thing is discussions in fandom. but right now i'm trying to discuss this when you have given me nothing to work with but false claims and hostility - see how this doesn't work? but alas, i'll try :)

do people read jegulus and think "wow i love voldemort and the death eaters!!! i agree with what the did here :D" or do they read jegulus and enjoy the complexity that comes with a character like him? do they enjoy how, with a character with such little canon lore, people explore things? or yk what, do they sometimes read him as a muggle where none of this matter because there's do DEs? yeah, because it's fiction. and liking a fictional character does not have repercussions on the real world.

calling someone a facist/nazi only for teading about fictional characters does - it is so incredibly important that we read immoral literature. i'm rambling now but i'm not even talking just about fandom. we NEED books that discuss these topics and we need to explore the characters within them. we NEED politics and immorality and everything like that in books because that is how we learn, understand, and prevent. reading them does make you immoral - see here: queer books being banned in the us for containing "immoral themes" and main characters doing things they deem had and awful alongside INCREDIBLYYYY important books like the handmaids tale, to kill a mockingbird, 1984, fahrenheit 451 etc etc.

we need to read these. we need to engage with them.

but in a fandom space, we also need to acknowledge that these are not real people. these are fictional characters and there's a big difference between engaging with a character because you are justifying their actions, and engaging with a character because you enjoy Exploring their character and Understanding them in as many ways as possible 🙂↕️

but we agree!! whilst fiction may not feel like reality to some people, to many it is! so have we considered that when people come to escape from the real world for a bit, or people have family members lost to past regimes; are about to enter 4 years of another regime or are holding their breath waiting for european elections to see if another far-right populist party gets in, it might sucklk to have this thrown around?

imagine dealing with alllll of that in reality, not knowing what on earth is going to happen tomorrow or what the future holds for you and the people you love, and then being called a facist online because you read about Fictional Character Regulus Black. whilst your life literally crumbles apart because of it. you are now being called the same thing that the man oppressing you and everyone you love is, because you read FanFiction.

and then finally ahem:

"not everyone has the privilege to separate fiction from reality like you do"

if you click here, you will find a tumblr post i made about this exact thing :D about how we can't separate fiction from reality

see here also: a post about the books jkr publishes under the robert galbraith pseudonym and about how we, again, cannot separate fiction from reality.

if you click here you will find my jkr playlist on tiktok which has videos in about how, again, we cannot separate fiction from reality.

what we also can't do, mind you is call someone a facist for reading a fictional character.

there is big difference between "hey! this character has facist undertones if applied irl, we could discuss this!" and "You Are A Facist For Reading It"

instead of coming and ranting to someone who has spoken extensivelyyyy about politics in this fandom space - both with fandom material and with elections, gaza, the uk riots etc etc - and is a huge advocate of dicussions and debates, put this energy into something productive.

like actual facists. real world politics and what you could be doing at a local level to help reduce the harm of Actual Facists that are in power right now. not people taking a break from Actual Facism to read fanfiction.

ta x

(p.s i'm a homeless, chronically-ill, gay, trans man. what privilege do i have in THISSS fandom space of JK ROWLINGSSSSS worlds, to separate reality from fiction? 😭)

[concretejunglefm]

I'm not ready to let you forget me (part 1).

*edit credit goes to the lovely @defuckingthrone-dot-com

You told your friends you want me dead And said that I did everythin' wrong And you're not wrong

An anon request for lovers to enemies 

Summary: It’s been two years since Noah cheated on you, abruptly ending your relationship. However, the universe seems to have a peculiar sense of humor in its plan to reunite you.

Pairing: Noah Sebastian x reader.

CW: none really. Mentions of cheating, Noah can be an overall asshole and a tad bit of angst.

WC: 3.2k.

Dividers: Silent-stories.

Had Noah cheated, you believe that you could've handled everything a lot better, but somehow what he did had been worse.

It wasn't cheating, even if you couldn't ignore the pit in your stomach when you thought about him and her together.

Noah's ex had joined the last leg of his tour as an opening act, and while under any other circumstances it wouldn't have bothered you, his nonchalant attitude about it did. 

This had been a man who spent time after time cursing her out to you, pushing aside any doubts or worries you had felt when it came to her, and now he didn't care if she was joining him in the most important aspect of his life.

Even worse was how he’d knocked back your own suggestion of joining him.

"It's only for a few days. I'll get to watch you play, and we can see it as a vacation." "You can see it as that. For me, it's work, babe. You know that, and you know how important it is to me." "I know I just thought." "Well, don't. Not this time. Maybe next time."

You did your best to brush off the hurt at the time, and now again as the memory resurfaces.

Noah didn't cheat, but what he did was close enough to make you feel heartbroken and forgotten about.

Messages and calls came less and less during this leg, and now you were sitting up early Saturday morning going through the posts on your Twitter feed like a fool, allowing yourself to be more hurt with each one that you came across.

@badoxmens: Did you see Noah and his ex on stage last night?

@ieatconcreeete: I hope this means they're finally getting back together !!

@artitficalsuicide: If I were his girlfriend, I would hate myself right now.

@deduckingthrone: Noah has a girlfriend? Are you sure? Him and his ex looked pretty cozy if he does.

The videos and pictures which accompanied the tweets did nothing to ease the rising bile in your throat, and every attempt to reach Noah was left unanswered.

Noah ignored every single text and call you made to him, not bothering to even make it obvious that he was ignoring you, the delivered and read notifications driving you mad until you had to stop yourself altogether.

Instead of breaking up with you, he ghosted you, your only proof of this coming a week later when another set of videos and photos showed up on your feed of him attending the album launch party of his ex.

There was no ignoring the closeness between them, the way he lingered by her in the one video, the way they were caught slipping off together and hovering a little too closely in another.

You almost went to write out a long-winded text, one full of all your feelings for everything that had transpired over the past week, but instead settled for a simple 'fuck you'. Even going as far as to block and delete his number to not allow for any temptation in reaching out to him.

You deserved better than this, that whatever had transpired for Noah to play with your feelings in this manner and you decided then that you'd do whatever it took to move on.

"What you need is a girls’ trip." The suggestion from your best friend came as no surprise, Sloan would always choose a spa day or a girls’ trip whenever she felt a need to unwind, which was practically every week according to her.

"Huh?" You snap back from your own thoughts, mindlessly stirring a spoon in your latte.

"Babe, please tell me that you are not still hung up on that guy." You hear both the pity and disdain in her tone.

To Sloan boys were nothing more than toys to be played with, to be thrown down and picked back up whenever she wanted. That was her trick to not being hurt.

"It's been two years."

"I know." You don't even need to give her a real answer for her to know, but it still doesn't stop your mind from wandering and from the pang in your chest each time you think about him.

“Girls’ trip, this weekend and I'm not taking no for an answer."

You wish that she had taken no for an answer.

A girl’s trip sounded delightful until she suggested Vegas and you were squeezing yourself onto a last-minute flight there. You wouldn't have minded had it not been for the fact that your seats were apart from one another and you had been given a middle seat, which meant you were now stuck in between two strangers.

Moving along the aisle towards your seat, you slide your weekend bag from your shoulder and toss it into the overhead bin. Looking down at your ticket, you confirm the seat number and tuck a piece of hair behind your ear as you tap on the shoulder of the man sitting on the end seat, covered up with a black hoodie.

"Excuse me. I'm 33B." You gesture to the empty space beside him, and the minute you catch a familiar pair of brown eyes gaze back at you, you feel your heart plummet into your stomach and bile rising up your throat.

Noah.

You're ready to make a dash towards the back of the plane, either to throw up in the bathroom or attempt to throw yourself out of the emergency exit.

"Sor—."

He cuts himself off on the sight of you, and you huff as he moves himself and allows for you to squeeze past.

When you fall into the middle seat, you find Jolly sitting on the other side of you and realize that they must be on their way to a show. 

In Vegas? 

You almost turn and ask him but decide not to. You spent the last two years ignoring his and his band's existence; you can do that for another hour on this flight.

When you dare a glance in Jolly's direction, he's already sliding his headphones on and looking out of the window, completely disengaging himself. You're almost jealous. You'd do anything to disappear from this moment's event, even exchange seats with the Swede so as not to be sat next to Noah.

As the flight pulls out to taxi, you feel Noah's leg bouncing against your own. You know it's his nerves. He's always been a nervous flyer, and it makes you wonder why he's choosing to fly instead of driving to Vegas.

You mentally smack yourself because it's not your place to wonder these things or even care about them anymore.

"Will you stop that?" You finally voice your annoyance as the plane begins its descent down the runway.

"You know I'm a nervous flyer!" He retorts, and yes, you do know, but he's not supposed to highlight that fact.

“Yeah, but it's annoying." You snipe beneath your breath.

"I can't help it!"

You sound like a couple of squabbling kids, and you hit your knee against his as if to prove a point for him to stop, but he only bounces his leg harder.

It's as if he's purposely trying to piss you off, and unfortunately for you, it's working.

"Just—" You reach over and press your hand down on his thigh, forcing his leg still. "There. Stop."

He does stop, but then you feel his larger tattooed hand atop yours, and his fingers slip beneath and around your own as if choosing to accept this as you giving him some form of comfort.

You're not, but you can hardly pull your hand away as the plane begins to take off and you feel his fingers tightening around yours, signifying his general fear and discomfort over flying.

That is until you're hit with the reminder that this guy ghosted you, and you owe him nothing.

You snatch your hand back, glaring at him as he looks down at you.

"What was that for?"

“Oh, please, you're a big boy. Hold your own damn hand if you're that scared." You don't hold back on the mockery in your tone, crossing your arms over your chest.

"I was always there for you, and this is how you repay me?"

“Oh, please, you were there for your own ego."

You feel Noah lean in closer to you and you edge yourself away as best as you can without causing too much disruption to Jolly tucked in the window seat.

"You could at least try to make this work."

You hear him whisper, and your mouth drops open due to the utter audacity this man has to even suggest such a thing.

"Why would I do that when you did such a great job proving you're not worth the effort?" You snipe back, keeping your voice low.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You're really choosing now to play dumb? God, you really are all muscle and no brains now, aren't you?"

You couldn't ignore the fact that over the past two years he had buffed out even more than you can remember.

Noah had always been physically fit during the time you were together, with muscles coming in, but there was something more toned and larger about him now. 

It was a noticeable enough sight that could have any girl drooling over him.

But not you. 

You refused to engage with the thought.

"So what you're saying is you think I look hot?"

You don't need to look at him to see it; you can hear the smirk in his voice, and it makes you shake with anger at how unfazed he appears by all of this. 

You can't resist jabbing your elbow into his side, resulting in him letting out a whine which draws the attention of passengers around you to look over.

"What was that for?" Noah grumbles, bringing a hand to his side as he rubs the spot you’d caught. 

"Because you're a dumbass." You spit out between gritted teeth.

"Excuse me, is there a problem here?" You haven't even noticed the seatbelt signs turn off, and when you look up, you spot a young air hostess peering in at you both. The moment her eyes catch sight of Noah, you spot that sudden flash of recognition in her own.

"Here we go," You mumble under your breath, rolling your own eyes as you direct your head forward and press back against the headrest. 

You wait to hear it, his charm that he always uses whenever there's a fan who recognizes him in a place he doesn't want to be noticed.

He's suave with it, and it always made you swoon in the beginning because you believed that he was merely trying to seek out his privacy for you both, but now you realize it was just one of his many tactics for keeping up some reputation he felt the need to uphold.

"Well, well... It looks like someone has good taste in music. You just made my day… but if you don't mind keeping it between us?"

You scoff and press your lips together when feeling the heat of a stare on you, but the air hostesses' quiet giggling is enough to prove that his little charm worked.

Shaking your head, you roll your eyes. "Real smooth." You remark once she leaves down the plane aisle to attend to another passenger.

"It worked on you, didn't it?"

"Don't flatter yourself. That was after five drinks, and I'd been eyeing up Folio all night."

"Oh—"

"Will you both quit it before I bang your heads together!" Jolly cuts Noah off, interrupting your squabbling.

"She started it." Noah argues, and your head turns back to him as you shoot him a glare. 

If looks could kill, you'd have done it multiple times by now.

The rest of the flight wasn't any easier, between playing elbow hockey with Noah over the armrest and more snide remarks, you were thankful the moment the plane came into land, unbuckling your belt and attempting to move the moment the seatbelt sign turned off.

"The plane hasn't even come to a stop." Noah points out as you attempt to stand, ushering him to move out of your way.

"I don't care, just move." You huff and glare down at him as he remains still, his tattooed hands sitting and tapping on his thighs, barely giving you a brief glance.

"Not even a please? You're so rude."

You know that you shouldn’t, but you begin to attempt climbing over him, holding onto the seat in front as you try to drag yourself past him and over his lap, muttering as you go. "And you are absolutely incorrigible."

"Wow, that's a new one. Is it your word of the day?"

You glance behind him and see him attempting to push back into his seat more, as if that's helping you in any way, and when you see his hand raise, you instinctively swat at it with the assumption he's going to touch you. 

"Ow?! There was no need for that."

Finally free from your row, you huff and pull yourself together, reaching for the overhead bin and pulling out your bag. 

“Well, this was fun. I really hope we never have to do it again." You glare at him and begin making your way down the aisle with the rest of the passengers towards the exit door.

You've never been happier to see the back of a plane in your life, moving as fast as your legs will let you through the crowd of people, almost missing the sound of Sloan's voice as she calls after you.

"Wait up, speedy!" She laughs as she finally catches up, and you come to a slow down, shaking your head free of all the thoughts which had been swirling around in there due to the unexpected reunion you just briefly had with your ex.

"Sorry. I just had to get out of there."

"That wasn't who I think it was, was it?" You spare a glance over at Sloan, and your irritated expression gives that answer away. "It was? What was he doing on a plane to Vegas?"

"I can't say I really cared to ask him, Sloan." Your tone has a bite still left over from the sniping that you and Noah had done. "Sorry, he just really gets under my skin."

"I can see that."

"The sooner we're at the hotel, the better. Then I can wash this whole thing off me, and we can finally start enjoying our girls' weekend."

"Yes! Girls’ weekend. No talk about stupid boys." Sloan slips her arm around yours, linking you together as she lets out an excited 'woohoo'. It makes you laugh, and you finally feel the tension that being sat next to Noah for the last hour had caused, slipping away.

It's a feeling which is short-lived, however.

After making your way through the airport and standard checks, you reach the taxi rank outside, and as you open the door, you turn back to call for Sloan, only to be met with the 6'3 asshole who's covered in tattoos.

“Oh, thanks, you shouldn't have." He flashes you a grin as he slides into your taxi, followed by Jolly, who offers you a brief apologetic look. Maybe you should've been giving him a harder time if he was enabling this stupid behavior.

You stand speechless as they pull the door close, tossing daggers at the cab as it drives away and a scream rumbles in your throat. 

"Where's the taxi?" Sloan asks as she chooses now to join you. You grumble something incoherent under your breath as you turn to wave down the next incoming taxi.

She's now joining Noah and Jolly on your shit list.

"It's going to be perfect! There's a spa, three pool areas. One of them is an infinity pool off the balcony upstairs." Sloan continues to drone on about the hotel and everything it includes. You only have a weekend here, but she's already planning multiple ways for you to take advantage of everything.

Currently, your mind is back on Noah and his stupid, smug ass face as he stole your taxi. You try to distract yourself from it, shaking him from your thoughts and coming back into the present, to this weekend.

Seeing him was a blip, but you refused to allow him to derail your plans or excitement.

Counting the room numbers down the hallway, you look up as you come closer to yours, room number: 308. 

Sloan has the room opposite you, disappearing inside after making plans to knock on after shower and changing. A shower sounds perfect right about now, not only to wash off the plane smell but also with being in such proximity to Noah in general.

As you fiddle with the room key, you hear a familiar voice, which causes your back to raise. Turning your head, you peer down the hallway, watching a group of familiar faces grow nearer to you. Noah is the one trailing behind, while Folio and Matt's voices are the ones you hear echoing down the hall.

You hastily attempt to open your hotel room door, being met with the red light before trying again.

You huff and close your eyes to calm yourself from growing irrationally angry.

Hearing the voices past you, you open your eyes and look back to find Noah standing at the door next to yours, room number: 310.

"Hey, neighbor." Noah flashes you a grin, and you shake your head in protest.

"No."

"No?" He repeats back at you in a question, his brows knitting together. "What do you mean no?"

"I mean no, we are not neighbors, and you cannot be here. Not in this room, not in this hotel. Hell, not even in this state." You're being irrational, but you never did quite have much rationality when it came to him. You always found yourself diving in headfirst to whatever thought crossed your mind.

"And who said this? You?" Noah raises a brow at you, taking a step closer as he leans a hand against the wall.

He easily towers over you, and under any other circumstance before now, that would have you weak at the knees and buckling for him, but right now it has you infuriated that he's somehow here, ruining your weekend and attempting to charm you.

"Yes."

"Still as bossy as ever, I see."

"And you're still an asshole." You snipe back, your eyes narrowing, still attempting to get your keycard in your door and slip away from this conversation.

"Ouch, that hurt." Noah raises his free hand, bringing it to his chest, feigning a tone of disbelief and hurt while you roll your eyes in response.

“Oh, please, that would insinuate you had any feelings to begin with."

"I have a lot of feelings, actually. Such as feeling sorry for you while watching you struggle with something so easy. Here, let me."

Before you have a chance to protest, he's reaching out to take your hotel room key and slips it into the swipe, drawing it out to a flashing green light.

You huff as you open the door, pushing forward, and the last thing you hear before the door slams is another final snarky remark from him; "Not even a thank you?"

Once in the safety of your room, you let out a loud scream of frustration, only to hear Noah's chuckle from the other side of the door, and you gently bang the back of your head against the door as you lean back on it.

Great, now you really can't escape him this weekend.

[elbiotipo]

This is from one of my worldbuilding posts in response at the bias of temperate climates being considered the "default" in fantasy and fiction in general (so these are tags in response to tags in another post but try to keep up)

This is very true, and as someone from a subtropical region who has never truly seen snow, to me the danger that cold weather represents is, let's use the word, "exotic" when I read into writing. Things do get cold here, but the fact that there are entire months where things get cold enough that nothing grows and staying outside can outright kill you is not something I would get used to easily.

This is ESPECIALLY relevant when you're doing worldbuilding on pre-industrial societies. Nowadays we can go to the store in the deep of winter, but when most of the population is composed of subsistence farmers, the above dangers are more than fatal. In temperate regions, a great deal of effort in daily life was spent into getting ready for the winter; storing harvested crops and meat in one way or the other until the spring. A harsh winter or a bad harvest could and did mean people just starved to death.

In tropical and subtropical regions, you don't usually get a season where nothing grows. Actually, you do, most have a rainy and a dry season of some sort (in my region, you do get a relatively strong winter, but the main difference is rainy/dry), so the pace of life is regulated by rain, and there's also a greater diversity of crops (see for example the milpa/three sisters system of the Americas, still used today). It doesn't necessarily mean that tropical and subtropical regions had better food all the time, since they also faced the same challenges of dealing with bad harvests, droughts, and more (DROUGHTS, especially, are the kind of civilization-ending event), but they did sustain overall high population densities and extensive systems of irrigation. I'll admit I read this long ago and don't know where to look at it, but a good comparison would be the higher density of villages and small plots in rice-producing regions compared to those in more temperate places. The Americas were completely disrupted by European colonization so it's hard to make sweeping statements about them but if we believe 1491's research (there are some points in dispute there), they had very, very high population densities, and partly this must be because of year-round cultivation of a great variety of tropical and subtropical crops.

Indeed, cold places far away from fishing, for example, often had low populations because there simply wasn't enough reliable crops to support them. Until the widespread adoption of a calorie rich crop that can tolerate cold conditions. Can you guess which it is?

[rey-jake-therapist]

I have stopped posting or reblogging anything Sandman related for a good while now, and it's not just because I've found another story to obsesses over I mean.... It was very easy for me to push The Sandman away because learning what I learned about NG broke something in me, for good. I didn't want to, because I had such an intense love for the comics and the show, but it happened. I saw passing all the news about season 2 like, "uh? Nice, I guess...".

And so I also gave up on the Sandman fic I had spent so much time crafting. Needless to say, it didn't make me happy. Fuck you Neil.

Anyway, I agree wholeheartedly with what OP said: if you loved these fics you write and still love writing these characters, don't let this stop you! I know my story isn't lost, I'll find something to do with it. It's too much of a waste to put hours and hours of work in the trash.... Think about it, before regretting it 💜

Fanfic writers, take a breath…

I’ve seen many posts over the last week in which NG-property-adjacent fanfic writers stated they’ll delete all their fics, from either Tumblr, Ao3 or both. And my heart honestly broke a little.

I’ll preface this with: I’m not telling anyone how to process their grief, anger and disappointment, and these are valid decisions. But I’d urge people to at least take a moment before they hit the nuclear option and delete everything without any chance of recovery.

These works come from your minds, derivative of (or inspired by) another work or not. You wrote them, not NG. They are your creative brainchild. You created a world that was yours.

Heck, the majority of fanfics (especially AUs) are so far removed from the original works that you could probably file the serial numbers off and turn them into OC fics, because that’s what they often are anyway if you look very closely.

If you can’t look at them right now without feeling bad, at least make sure you have saved them someplace other than Tumblr or Ao3. Lock those files away, let them rest. Now or forever. But I’d strongly suggest never to delete your creative works because the person who inspired them is horrible. Again: These works came from your minds, not his. And once they’re gone, that’s it.

You don’t need to make any decision right now, when everything is so fresh. I’m sort of old and from a generation that didn’t grow up under the premise of, “post about it or it didn’t happen.” Don’t let peer pressure to do “the right thing” get the better of you. You have time. You can make these decisions without rushing into them. Away from online spaces…

[1425fivefive]

If you write another maxcar before finishing your norstappen I'll probably cry, but I'll accept it 😔

do you want some post-brazil alpha4alpha norstappen i wrote in a delirious haze that actually doesn’t fit in the norstappen fic i’m writing to tide you over? (nsfw obviously lmao so putting below the cut)

“That’s it,” Max murmurs, his fingers digging into Lando’s arse, helping Lando sink slowly onto his cock. “That’s it, baby, easy.”

Lando whimpers and hates himself for it. Hates himself for letting Max come to his hotel room. Hates himself for letting Max fuck him. Hates himself for liking it.

Max had texted him after the race, something pointless like, Are you ok? Lando got the text en route to the press pen and he hadn’t known whether to laugh or cry. He didn’t respond for hours. He went back to his hotel room and burrowed under the covers, held his phone six inches away from his face, and read through every Instagram comment section and tweet and Reddit thread about how he’d thrown away the championship today.

He doesn’t know why he texted Max in the end. Maybe, he thinks, he’d wanted to punish himself.

But it doesn’t feel like punishment as Max helps Lando move, Lando’s cock rubbing against Max’s stomach. It doesn’t feel like punishment when Max slides a hand up Lando’s back and into his hair, pulling him in for a slow, heated kiss. It doesn’t feel like punishment when Lando feels Max’s knot pushing against his rim, hot and huge and overwhelming.

No, Lando thinks as Max licks and sucks Lando’s mating gland, a hint of teeth grazing Lando’s skin. Whatever this is, it feels more like worship.

Lando moans and squirms a hand between their bodies, wrapping a fist around his cock, coaxing his own knot to full hardness.

“Fuck, Lando,” Max pants, staring down at the hot, dark space between them. “Good boy, fuck, let me see your pretty knot.”

Lando whines, high and choked, his knot swelling in his fist. He doesn’t understand how Max can just say that, like Max likes that Lando’s an alpha, like there’s nothing to be ashamed about. Lando still remembers the first time Max sucked him, when Max pressed a soft kiss to Lando’s knot, looking right at Lando as he did it, and Lando had come all over himself before Max could even properly get his mouth on him.

Lando can feel Max’s knot starting to stretch his rim, can feel Max shaking as he tries to hold himself back from fucking up and forcing his knot into Lando.

“You can,” Lando whimpers, rocking down against Max’s knot. “Fuck, please, you can.”

Max groans, grip tightening in Lando’s hair, fingers digging into Lando’s arse. “Yeah, baby? You’re going to let me knot you?”

Lando realizes that’s why he asked Max here. The obliterating, all-consuming pleasure he feels when Max knots him, filling Lando up in a way that doesn’t leave space for a single thought other than how good Max feels inside him.

“Please,” Lando begs, fucking himself harder on Max’s cock, trying to take Max deeper. “Please, please, I need it.”

That’s all the permission Max needs before he’s dragging both hands to Lando’s hips and pulling Lando down, forcing his knot past Lando’s rim.

“Oh,” Lando gasps, feeling Max stretch him impossibly, unbearably wide. “Oh, Max, I can’t—”

Max moans but he stays where he is, his knot half inside.

Lando squeezes his eyes shut and tries to breathe through his nose, tries to remind himself that he can take it, that he’s managed it before. Tries to remember how good it’ll feel when Max is all the way inside, knot buried inside him.

Eventually, Lando whispers, “Yeah,” and Max pins Lando down by his hips, pushing his knot past Lando’s rim.

Lando feels like every single muscle in his body tightens, locks up, screaming for relief. He can hear himself crying out as Max makes space for himself in Lando’s body, forces Lando to take something he’s not meant to take. He feels wetness on his face and he realizes he’s crying, giant, heaving sobs as Max’s knot slips into him with a pop.

“Fuck,” Lando gasps, hand flying to his stomach, like he’ll somehow be able to feel Max there. “Fuck, Max, you—”

“Yeah,” Max breathes, looking at Lando with an awed expression, his face a bright, hectic pink, hair sticking to his forehead. “You took all of me, baby.”

Lando’s mouth drops open and he’s coming before he really knows what’s happening, cock twitching between his fingers and spilling over Max’s stomach. Lando can feel his rim trying and failing to tighten, stretched too wide by Max’s cock, and the realization sends another wave of pleasure through him, shuddering as more come drips through his fingers.

“Fuck,” Max moans, staring down at Lando’s cock. “Fuck, Lando, fuck, good boy, coming for me.”

Lando whimpers and tries to nod but he doesn’t feel in control of his limbs, feels like a ragdoll in Max’s lap. “You should come in me,” Lando slurs, cupping his knot as it keeps pulsing in his fist. “Want you to.”

Max groans and digs his fingers into Lando’s hips and then he’s coming, his cock kicking inside of Lando, spilling wave after wave of come.

Lando whines as he feels Max’s knot press against his prostate, a tiny bit of come dribbling out of his softening cock. Max whimpers at the sight and fucks up once more into Lando, coming so deep inside him that Lando swears he feels it in his throat.

As they wait for Max’s knot to go down, Max swipes his fingers through Lando’s come on his stomach and holds it up to Lando’s mouth.

“M’not gonna eat my own come,” Lando says, wrinkling his nose. “S’gross.”

But Max just shrugs and pops his fingers into his own mouth, moaning as he sucks the taste of Lando off of them.

“Jesus,” Lando says, his cock giving a painful twitch. “You’re insane.”

Max slips his fingers out of his mouth and drags them through Lando’s come, before holding them out to Lando like an offering. “Maybe,” Max murmurs, eyes crinkling. “But you taste very good.”

Lando doesn’t know why that’s enough to have his lips parting, letting Max slide his fingers between them. His come’s slimy and salty, but Max moans and Lando’s helpless to do anything other than close his lips around Max’s fingers, sucking his come off them.

“That’s it,” Max breathes, fucking his fingers gently in and out of Lando’s mouth. “That’s it, baby.”

Lando moans, rocking slightly on Max’s knot.

Max’s eyes go wide. “Do you want me to—again?”

Lando can feel awareness starting to creep in at the edges of his brain, memories of the lock-up he had on the restart, Oscar letting him by to finish a measly P6, Max’s cry of victory as he thrust the trophy above his head on the podium.

“Yeah,” Lando breathes, and starts to ride Max slowly, carefully, almost imperceptible movements of his hips. “Yeah, knot me, please.”

Max does.

[peonyneko]

To Know You Pt.2 | OldestSon!Nanami x YoungestDaughter!Reader

Notes: Once again, this fanfic is very self-indulgent, so many of you may not be able to relate to it... I don't know how often I will post, I just like writing about it. Requests are open?? But to be veryy honest, I'm not sure if I have for request, but I'm open to discussions through the inbox/request box. Send me any anon messages~

I'll clean up any mistakes soon!

Word count: 6k+

Genre: Angst(?), Fluff, A touch/sprinkle of suggestive content (not really), NO SMUT YET

Warnings: Grammar mistakes (I'll fix it), vomit, not good eating habits, cursing, and arranged marriage things(?)

Extra info:

Nanami's Friends: Gojo, Geto, Shoko, Utahime, etc

Nanami's Juniors: Mainly Yuji, Megumi, and Nobara, does include Maki, Yuta, and Toge.

Nanami is hinted to be in his mid/late 30s and reader is hinted to be in her twenties.

---

OldestSon!Nanami who woke up from the smell of something good. Looking at the clock, to realize it’s past 11 AM, but quick to also realize his father gave him a week off. One, to get to know you better. Two, to plan your honeymoon for later on.

He notices you weren’t in bed, so after freshening up he follows the delicious scent. He watches as you look through the cabinets, very quietly, familiarizing yourself with what's there. You sigh in relief when you see maple syrup in the cabinet.

He found it… odd, to be honest. He usually was the one cooking for others, especially his younger siblings. He banned his brother, at that time in his early twenties, from entering the kitchen after he had burnt milk… Milk! (Though he is now much better at cooking.)

So to have you cook something was… fresh, but normal for an adult nonetheless. He wondered if you cooked for yourself often.

“Good morning. It smells nice,” he says, his voice rough and deep. You turn around with a spatula in your hand and next to you what seemed to be strawberry pancakes on a plate.

You nod, “Good morning… Yeah, thought I’d make something before you go to work.”

It clicks that he never told you. Shit. 

“My dad actually gave me the week off. I apologize for the confusion. I should’ve told you during our date,” he says, nearing you and grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge.

“That’s okay. We barely had the time,” you say, turning back to your pancakes and putting the last one on the plate. Another plate with scrambled eggs.

“Do you have work?” he asks and you shake your head. 

“I’m off for a week too. My boss found out I was getting married out-of-nowhere,” you shrugged, the words leaving your mouth so casually.

“You didn’t tell them?” he continues, bringing out plates and utensils to place on the table.

You shake your head, “Not that I didn’t. I told them, but they didn’t expect it so soon.”

OldestSon!Nanami hums, being in a similar position himself. Everyone’s jaw dropped when they found out, from Gojo’s loud mouth, not himself. He didn’t even tell Gojo! His mom did. She adored that blue-eyed lunatic. 

You fetch the water jug filling up the water cups. You both sit on opposite ends, a little far from each other. It gnawed at his chest, so he asked.

“Why did you want to get married?” The silence lingers for a while, and he could tell you, too, are looking for words to not hurt him.

“Don’t worry. I wouldn’t judge your reasons. I’m sure I’m no better,” he reassures.

You licks your lips. “For my family, I guess. My mom really wants to see me get married. She’s quite old and has health problems, so I agreed.”

Nanami noticed you held your guard up, keeping a distance between the two of you. Something you’re not telling him, but he doesn’t press.

“Do you regret it?” he asks and you shake your head.

“Not if you don’t,” you whispered before taking a bite of your pancakes. His gaze lingered on you. Not if he doesn’t? 

“You’re my wife. I won’t regret the wife I chose. Yes, we don’t know each other, but I don’t want you to feel suffocated, so please do tell me anything and everything.” 

You look back at him with sparkling eyes and then you change the topic.

He took a bite of the pancakes and eggs and was surprised. He could hug you for how fluffy and delicious they are. It didn’t even take a second to know it was better than any he made.

“What do you want to do today?” you ask. 

He hums, “I have a few places in mind, where we can go, but where do you want to go?”

“Oh, what did you have in mind?” you ask and he tells you the locations after another big bite of the pancakes. His mind can’t get over how you made the pancakes this fluffy and good.

“We can go there,” you say and his ears perk up.

“Where exactly?” he asks for specifics.

“The, um, restaurant, the Salt one,” you tried to repeat what he’d said early, only to fail.

“Ah, Saltspringlis?” he clarifies, telling you that he’ll take you tonight for dinner.

OldestSon!Nanami who notices you skipping lunch and asks you about what you wanted, only for you to say you’ll eat later, stalling on it. Hours go by and he noticed you were busy unpacking your things. He helped you, in hopes that you’d take a break and go eat, but you just continue unpacking, so he asked.

“Well, I had breakfast with you and I don’t want to be full for dinner,” you say, not paying mind to the utterly confused look on his face. Huh? 

“I also forgot,” you mumble, folding another shirt into the drawer. He felt compelled to scold you, the way he used to scold his siblings for taking way too long to go eat. But he doesn’t.

“You should eat a snack,” he suggests, folding your pants and putting it in the drawer of pants. He leaves the room, bringing back an apple, then somewhat “orders” you to sit down and eat while he unpacks for you.

OldestSon!Nanami who neatly organized your clothes the way he noticed you organizing them. Who casually reaches inside the duffle bag beside the nightstand, only for you to tighten the opening, stops his hand from moving. Your eyes were panicked and with the apple in between your lips. He stops and there are a few seconds of silence between you two.

“Um, I have underwear in this,” you explain.

OldestSon!Nanami removes his hand from the bag, the feeling on lace and silk catching his attention as he does. Your face was red and he isn’t dumb. He knows that these were perhaps lingerie packed for activities, maybe by someone else. But he’s also not crass or rude. He acts like he doesn’t know what's inside, nor does he sexualize it. 

OldestSon!Nanami who takes you to Saltspringlis, a seafood restaurant, but also invites some of his friends and company juniors. Gojo and Geto come with Yuji and Megumi, while Shoko arrives with Nobara and Maki. He was glad to know you got along with them, even if they did most of the talking, you still looked pleased but…

OldestSon!Nanami who wonders why you don’t touch your food, you just pick at it. You pick at the scallops and shrimp risotto. In the hour that passed, everyone had finished their plate except you. And soon it was time to leave. 

He wasn’t angry, no, no, no! He was curious and maybe a little disappointed. 

Your marriage was arranged. He didn’t dislike you, no it was the opposite. He liked you, platonically. But he noticed you barely ate your dinner.

He grew up being told to appreciate food and finish his plate. “Others aren’t as fortunate as we are, Kento,” his mother would say. His parents didn’t force him to finish his food if he really couldn’t. But he grew up learning it’s proper and respectful to finish what you got for yourself or what was served.

His younger siblings were told the same about finishing meals, but less tied to the rule. They weren’t kept on the table until they finished like he and another one of his siblings were. And as Nanami sees from your habits, you were probably given that leniency too.

You bit into the shrimp, eating maybe a quarter of the meal before never touching it again. And soon it was time to leave. He noticed others' questions if you were hungry. “You didn’t even eat much,” Yuji, who was around your age, exclaimed. You simply told everyone you’re full. Nanami told you to get it packed to-go and you nodded, doing just that. 

OldestSon!Nanami who fought with OnlyChild!Gojo to pay the bill for everyone. In the end, Gojo beat him by a millisecond to tap it on the card reader.

OldestSon!Nanami who was a little surprised when your stomach growled in the silent car ride. He looked over to you for a second, suggesting, “Finish the food at the house.” You only nod, not saying much.

OldestSon!Nanami who was just a tiny bit irked when he saw the to-go box still in the fridge the next morning. So, once you told him with an avoidant gaze that you didn’t want it, he ate it himself.

OldestSon!Nanami and you went through the motions of your break, one week passing by fairly quickly. You both ate together for almost every meal. ‘Almost’ because you had a tendency to avoid meals and lean towards snacking. Though, at least you’d have breakfast and dinner. Two days into the break, he helped you settle in, encouraging you to decor the place however you’d want. He didn’t mind. He wanted you to feel like you belonged.

So there you were, day three of seven days of break, at a home goods store, gawking the prices as you tried to find the cheapest ones. Why are they so expensive?! Nanami, too, was looking but he looked rather unfazed. 

You found one of the shelves to be beautiful, so beautiful you wanted it. But that feeling quickly sizzled out once the price of $1,500 revealed itself on the tag. You carried on with a tight smile, not looking back. You looked everywhere, and no matter what, nothing was under $500. Even a nightstand. A nightstand!

OldestSon!Nanami who sees you silent sigh to yourself as you walk back to the same place you started off. He asks you if this store was not to your taste, but you simply shake your head, quietly telling him it’s over your budget. 

Perplexed, he leans down, “I’m well-over capable to pay it.”

OldestSon!Nanami watches you explain that you aren’t going to let him pay for it! If you like it and want it, you’ll buy it. He is just there looking back, absolutely astonished. Though, he hid it well behind his stoic face and clenched jaw. Who told you you’d be paying for these things?

“I respect that you want to pay for it, but you’re not going to. Moreso, I won’t let you. If you like something, I’ll get it. It’s for the house,” he replies, beginning to walk towards someone.

Before you can even attempt to convince him not to, he tells an employee to buy two items, giving the item number, as well. You watch him not hesitate the slightest. Even on the drive home, he doesn’t say much about what he bought, so you assumed he got what he liked. 

OldestSon!Nanami who tells you to come down the next day, because a delivery came in. You look at him in utter disbelief as the same beautiful shelf stood in front of you. He watches as your expression goes from confusion to shock to admiration and then to…

“Wait, I- Did you buy it because of me?” your brows furrowed as your voice got small. You had a sort of guilt in your voice, almost as if you didn’t want him to get it.

So he panics. “No! No… I got it because I really liked it,” he lied, “Why? Did you?”

Your face calms and you sigh in relief, “Yeah… Can I help you build it?”

OldestSon!Nanami and you who spend day 4 of your break building and moving things around the house. He notices you bump into things here and there, so he just… moves them out of the way when you shuffle around. He quietly reorganizes the pantry, so you don’t risk breaking your hip when you climb the countertop.

What? He caught you easily climbing it on your knees, as if you do that often when he’s not looking. It made you avoid his gaze for hours, with an embarrassed laugh, mumbling, “Sorry. I’ll clean it.”

YoungestDaughter!Reader who still notices him reorganizing the pantry because she’s always aware of Nanami. Who enjoys building the shelf with Nanami, her brows furrows in focus and eyes fixed on the screws. She organizes her book, usually by title and genre, but quietly places Nanami’s favorites to his eye level (knowing from his family and friends). 

YoungestDaughter!Reader who places a cup of water on the kitchen counter, knowing Nanami will just drink it. He’s done that before. What? She’s just making sure he’s hydrated. Who softly asks Nanami if he has any photos he wants to put up there.

He does. 

OldestSon!Nanami who opens up his album of high school memories and recent pictures with his juniors. All of them. Who stupidly skips past the wedding pictures, not noticing YoungestDaughter!Reader’s eyes wait in foolish anticipation.  

YoungestDaughter!Reader who is quick to move on from the slight disappointment. After all, this relationship had no feelings, it’s arranged. She smiles at the memories, but it dawns on her that she doesn’t know him… At All. Certainly not anything close to what his juniors even know. So she asks about his high school and college, hoping for any response even if it’s not a deep one.

“It was fun,” Nanami whispered, brushing his thumb over two faces. A girl and a guy. 

Silence. Horrible, awkward silence.

“Uh, what year was that?” you ask from behind him. He doesn’t talk and so you let it go. You hated this feeling, the sticky, horrible feeling of begging for him to respond or talk. 

After all, you grew up knowing to swallow your feelings and just let people be, especially if they didn’t want you. You grew up being the listener. When no one asked or responded, you wouldn’t speak either. You hated this sticky, unbearable feeling or being the only one wanting to talk.

You look through your own set of pictures, ones of your friends and family, some that you already printed to frame. You and Nanami decorated the shelf, but sadly it looked as if two roommates had done it, not a married couple. 

You keep your thoughts to yourself. You knew what to expect coming in. No matter how much his mother told this would be love, the moment you knew Nanami seemed to have… settled, you knew this is just that, a settlement. 

But you stupidly already started to enjoy his presence.

YoungestDaughter!Reader who has countless sketches of Nanami in her sketchbook, all of them in her forbidden, never-open-in-front-of-others sketchbook. All of them are drawn in the month you’ve known him.  Some doodles, others a bit more detailed. 

OldestSon!Nanami, who saw the sketch book lying around, picks it up out of curiosity, but never opens it. He respects your privacy. 

OldestSon!Nanami and you spend day 5 in the park with a beautiful garden. He noticed your eyes sparkle at the flowers, taking yet another picture as you walked around. He sends it to his mom, who replies with a dozen pink, yellow, and orange hearts for you, calling you, “So cute.” You come back to him, with a couple small flowers in your hand, dropping it into his palm without touching him, “I didn’t want to rip them off, but I found some instead.”

OldestSon!Nanami who blushes as you turn your back and continue walking as if you didn’t just give him the cutest small flowers of yellow and blue daisies.

OldestSon!Nanami who brings home salmon the next day and you cook it. He notices you eat only part of it and wait for him to finish before claiming that you're full. He lets it go, not saying anything about it.

The rest of the day you two are within each other's vicinity, but doing different things. You sketching something in your sketchbook and he's reading.

OldestSon!Nanami begins to dose off as he's reading, his book slipping from him a sliver. Despite being high alert with others, he can't help but feel a little at peace with... you.

You place your sketchbook aside, taking the blanket off yourself and putting it on Nanami instead. You take the book from his sleeping state and hesitantly tuck him into the blanket.

Nanami wakes up right when you put the blanket on him and he can't help but feel weird fluttering in his stomach. A few seconds of silent stares that happen between you two. You to him. Him to you.

"Um," you break the silence, "You should sleep... in the bedroom. You'll hurt your neck."

Nanami who hums, knowing that if he spoke, it'll be a stutter of words. He notices how you look so "caught in the act" when you did nothing wrong. He gives you a smile, clearing his throat as he stands up.

"Are you tired?" he asks.

You look back at your materials splayed out on the living room table and couch. Looking back at him, you shrug your shoulders.

"I'm not tired, but I can... keep you company after I clean up."

OldestSon!Nanami who waits 20 minutes, too giddy to sleep because you said you'd keep him company. Usually, you two went to sleep at different times. You were always staying up later than him.

OldestSon!Nanami who whispers goodnight as you settle into the bed, reading a book in your hand and small light on the book. He told you that you can keep the lights or lamp on, but you refused. You use a tiny book light

OldestSon!Nanami and you spend the night of your last day of break together at yet another expensive seafood restaurant. Nanami had asked you where you wanted to go, but you let him decide, telling him you didn’t know the place well.

You’d ordered a salmon dish with a side of asparagus. The price wasn’t the issue. He didn’t mean to get a little… irked. You took twenty minutes to order, but he didn’t mind. And by the time he’d eaten his food, you barely made a dent in yours.

He waited and waited, the conversation between you two was longer than the length you took to eat. The conversation was nothing out of the ordinary, just about both of your jobs and going back to the usual work routine. All that stuff. 

Your food long went cold and you were lingering, not touching it.

“What’s wrong?” He asks, curiously.

“Oh, no nothing. Why?” You ask, tilting your head.

“You’re not eating and your food is cold,” he points out. You look down at your plate and curl up. He should’ve stopped.

“It’s not good to waste food,” he adds, wiping his hands on the cloth.

“Yeah, um, I’m just full,” you quietly say, your neck heating up from his gaze. The same one that you got when you were younger. From many, many people.

You’d grown up similar to Nanami, but instead of being let off the hook your family yelled at you to eat and finish food. Admittedly, you avoided food because you were easily full, you’d prefer to have small portions. It didn’t help that your parents were on the poorer side. They’d guilt you about the money they spent on food.

And as Nanami said those words, you relive those memories.

“You’re all skin and bones! Why are you not eating?!”

“Fish is good for you, why are you being so picky?”

“She never eats. It’s such a hassle. What did I do wrong?.”

“I tried so many times to make her eat fish, she never does.”

“You should be happy. Lots of people can’t even eat fish.”

So, to avoid giving Nanami the wrong impression, despite heavily disliking seafood, you forced yourself to at least finish half, until you just couldn’t anymore. This month alone, you've eat more fish than you have in a lifetime.

The salmon left a bad taste in your mouth and you felt like throwing up. You would’ve had it not been for the asparagus you finished.

“Are you done?” Nanami asks, again. You nod your head with flushed cheeks, squeezing your hands in your lap. Sorry. 

He sighs and finishes paying. He barely says a word to you as you both go to the car. The food swirls in your stomach, the taste of the seafood still in your mouth palette. You didn’t get the chance to wash the gag-worthy taste away with water.

“Thank y-“

“If you didn’t want to eat out, you could’ve told me,” he bluntly said, gripping the steering wheel. He drove without looking at you, just a little bit irked. Okay, not just a little. Irked. He’s annoyed.

Gojo buys you food that you didn’t eat, then you don’t eat this time either. You never seemed to finish it, but then you eat something else much later on, ignoring the food container from the restaurant. Did you want fresh food? He’d get it. He just wanted you to be honest if you didn’t want to eat it anymore now that it’s old. Or that you didn’t want to eat with him and his friends in the first place.

“I’m not trying to force you to do anything. We’re married even though it was arranged, but I’m not here to force you,” he adds, and your stomach sinks further.

“I’m sorry,” you mumble as he drives in silence, paying you no mind. A few minutes go by. Your guilt grew more and you could physically feel his irritation.

“It’s not that I didn’t want to go eat,” you add, playing with your hands. I’m sorry. 

“Then?” He raises a brow, eyes in the road.

Your throat felt hot and your stomach swirls as the car hit a pothole. You didn’t want to admit it. You didn't want to admit that you didn’t like fish. You didn’t like seafood. Few exceptions, but fish was definitely not one. You tried to like it, but nothing ever got you to.

“I felt full,” you mumble and he is quick to click his tongue.

“Then you could’ve ordered something you wouldn’t waste. That simple,” he adds. 

He didn’t know why he got worked up. You weren’t a kid. He normally doesn’t care about habits. But you didn’t even have a full meal since breakfast. Yes, he noticed. How are you NOT hungry?

Growl! You bit your lip as your stomach made noises. Nanami sighed as he, too, heard it. You clearly were if your stomach was still growling.

“You don’t have to lie. I won’t blame you if you feel weird about going out with me. As I said, this marriage was done quickly and we’re not in love. ”

“No, I just… couldn’t finish it. I knew I probably would like it. I wanted to try, but… It didn’t taste good,” you mumble at the end. As Nanami drives, the sight of swift cars and alternating lights makes your stomach flip like hurricane swirls.

“But you got it anyway. You should’ve ordered something you could finish.”

“I’m sorry,” you mumble out, your hand reaching up to cover your nose and mouth.

“No need to apologize to me. Just… it’s not good to waste food,” he said, voice flat and stern.

You felt shame rise up to your cheek as the food began to rise up your throat. You’d tried to swallow the sickly throat-wrenching feeling, but it was getting more and more unbearable. More and more the food climbed up your stomach and throat.

“Stop- Stop the car,” you quickly express, opening your seatbelt. And he does, pulling over immediately..

You stumble out of the car, and spill your guts out. Every bit of fish and asparagus you ate now spilled out on the ground. Nanami curses, his stomach sinking to the floor as you heave and bend over. He leaves the car to rub your back, his eyes brimmed with worry.

Fish usually made you queasy, especially if it smelled fishy. So you avoided it, but seeing Nanami always eat it so deliciously made you want to match his preference too. He got you water and you profusely apologized. He shakes his head, worried to no end. He checks your temperature and finds nothing. He’s there with you crouched down until your stomach calms, your arms settling beside you.

“What's wrong?”

“I’m sorry… I don’t like seafood.” And it clicks for him. Your face dropped when you looked through the menu, which had nothing but fish and scallops.

Fuck, he thought. He loves seafood, so did his entire family. It seemed like your family also enjoyed it, so he assumed you liked it too. But not once did he ever see you reach for any seafood dishes. Ever. 

He’d grown up eating anything, he wasn’t picky, moreso he wasn’t allowed to be. He didn’t care as long as it wasn’t sardines. You must’ve forced yourself to eat even half of the salmon. He carries you to the car, clicking in your seatbelt for you.

“I’m sorry,” he admits, “I should’ve told you it was seafood. It’s my fault, not yours.”

“Still it was expensive and you paid, so I can pay you back for wasting it,” your voice was so small and quiet. As if you expected him to be mad about it. As if you expect him to yell at you.

His heart aches, and he shakes his head, “No, no. What? That doesn’t matter. The price doesn’t matter. I’m your husband, it’s only a given.”

He help you get back into the car, making sure you were no long queasy. OldestSon!Nanami who has a small stash of medicine in a box of his car. He gives you a bottle of water and some nausea relief. Driving a little slower to avoid making your vision hazy and stomach churn again. Right when heard your stomach rumble, he was quick to stop at a random late night bakery.

“Do you like sweets?” He asks and you nod, only to panic when he starts to leave the car.

“No, you don’t have to! You’re wasting money,”

His brows furrow, “What? Nonsense, you threw up. And you’re hungry”

“I’ll buy it myself. Seriously.”

“No, sit here. What do you like?”

“I’m not telling you,” you insist.

“Then I’ll just get one of every flavor.”

You scoff at his ‘promise,’ “No you won’t.”

“You think?” he smirks, cocking his head to the side.

“You won’t,” you dryly chuckle, crossing your arms. You were too weak from the nausea to get up as he shut the car door, assuming he was joking. Surely, he’d just get a croissant.

He didn’t, in fact, just get a croissant. Keeping his word, Nanami comes back with a box full of pastries. Your eyes widen at the sheer amount in your lap.

“I- I can’t finish this!”

“I’ll help. Anything left over I’ll give it to friends. Please, I don’t want you fainting.”

He noticed you hesitate to grab the fancy one, the tiramisu croissant, so before you go for the plain butter croissant instead, he speaks.

“Go for it. I bought it for you,” he softly encourages. With a sheepish smile you take it, biting into the croissant.

“I’m sorry for scaring you,” Nanami says, regretting his lecturing.

“You’re not a kid and you’re free to eat however much and whatever you want. I don’t mean to control you. I have no idea what got over me to act like that. I’m sorry.”

You nod your head, “That’s alright. I know you said it from a good place. I, uh, need to get better at letting you know about these things too.” 

That night, nothing big changed, but Nanami was sure of one thing: He never wants to see you sad and uneasy.

He couldn’t help that your tears made his heart ache. Maybe it was similar to the way he can’t see his juniors hurt? He just knew he didn’t want to see you unhappy. Maybe you were becoming a friend? He doesn’t know.

OldestSon!Nanami and you who still sleep with your backs faced away from each other, but closer. The distance would completely disappear if one of you flipped over. 

OldestSon!Nanami checks on you when waking up at the crack of dawn, he touches your forehead. And then realizes….

Realizes he hasn’t even hugged you, let alone held your hand. The farthest you’ve both gone was this… Him touching your forehead. And right then, he wanted to bang his head on the wall.

But maybe it was for the best? What if you don’t like him? What if you want a divorce soon? What if you liked someone else? Why would she like you? Someone so fucking old-

You groan in your sleep, moving around and facing him. His breath gets caught in his throat as the palm of his hand is now pressed between the bed and your cheek. Your hair strand cover part of your face, and fuck you looked so cute. 

An ache sew itself into Nanami's heart. He felt as though he'd ruined your life. Your love life. He wonders if you given no choice. Because why would you agree to marry him? You could've chosen anyone... But you chose him...

OldestSon!Nanami who went to sleep like that, not daring to move his hand from your cheek. So when you wake up, you wake up confused as to why you accidentally practically pinned Nanami to the edge of the bed (it was only his arm under you).

YoungestDaughter!Reader who wakes up a little excited because she gets to make him a lunchbox for the first time. She really wanted him to try one of her recipes that she made herself. She hesitates, thinking of cooking something common, but listening to her heart, she makes him something she came up with.

OldestSon!Nanami who smiles at the lunch you made him for before he headed to work. He gives you a small smile, thanking you. You smile back, shrugging and playing with the hem of your shirt, as if it was too embarrassing for him to notice it. 

OldestSon!Nanami who also drives you to your office place, making sure you went inside the office before driving to his own.

OldestSon!Nanami who got many compliments and congratulations for his marriage. He even got a couple of sad eyes from some singles. He didn’t know why. Were they sad he got married before them? (No, they were sad it wasn’t them who he got married to. Both those employees flirted with him before, but he never took the hint. Gojo and Geto knew, but they never told him.)

OldestSon!Nanami who didn’t touch the lunch you made for him, forgetting about it when Gojo practically dragged him to eat out because, “Suguru is too busy to eat with me.” 

Not only that, he didn’t even get the time to catch his breath because of how busy it got with him back in the office. When he took a shower after work, you noticed the lunchbox was heavy, opening it to only find it full and untouched. 

YoungestDaughter!Reader’s heart fell to the floor seeing the food not even halfway done. She contemplated asking him, but when he came to the kitchen with a laptop in his hand and a stoic face, her questions answered themselves. Maybe he didn’t get the time.

That day you both did not speak much with each other. Both of you had different jobs and after the week long break, there was much to catch up on for both of you

So the very next day, you make him lunch again. A different recipe with salmon and rice. You even tasted it to make sure it was good, even if you’d prefer it with chicken instead. 

Your routine of waking up together and leaving together continued for a second time. You were dropped off first and then he went about his way.

OldestSon!Nanami whose second day back was hectic, more so than the first. He didn't even get a break, let alone the chance to touch his lunchbox.

YoungestDaughter!Reader’s heart, once again, shattered seeing the lunch full. The note she left inside of “Hope today is good! Take deep breaths^^” discarded all the way at the bottom. Crunched up and discarded.

OldestSon!Nanami and you spent the day in different work rooms. You in yours. Him in his. You slept in the same bed. Close, but once again faced away. Backs towards one another. 

OldestSon!Nanami didn’t say anything when he noticed you didn’t make lunch the next day, thinking you were tired, so he made it himself. You saw him do so, as you grabbed a yogurt and canned coffee. In silence, he dropped you off and went about his way to work. This continued for the week, before he asked. He asked right when you returned from work, surprisingly returning later than usual. Much later. Perhaps two hours late.

“Why did you stop making lunch?” He notices you freeze, trying to gather your thoughts. You had just gotten out of the shower, freshly wet hair and in your baggy mix-matched pajamas.

“Not that you must. You don’t. I’m a grown man. I can make it myself. I was just… I was merely curious,” he adds, hoping to put off the pressure of answering.

“Oh,” you begin, playing with the hem of your sleeve, “I thought you didn’t like it. I didn’t want to force you to eat something you didn’t like.”

“Why’d you think that?” he tilts his head, completely lost.

“You told me one time that you went out to eat and brought back a full container, so I assumed you didn’t want to eat it. But, I shouldn’t have assumed, I’m sorry.” 

“No!” he says, stepping closer to you,“I should’ve clarified. Gojo forcefully took me out to eat. I also… completely forgot you packed me something. So it’s my fault, not yours.”

You look up at him, nodding, a hint of sadness in your eyes “So, you don’t mind eating what I make?”

He frowns, shaking his head and leaning down to you, “Why would I? Is anything wrong?”

You shake your head, as if you wanted to avoid talking about it. Before you can leave, he gently pulls your arm, leaning in close. He tilts his head to connect your face with his, a slight worry in his eyes.

“Hey, talk to me,” he whispers, “I don’t want you silently trapping your thoughts.”

You stall a bit more, before sheepishly chuckling. Shrugging as you answer, “No big deal, really. It’s a small thing that I guess I took too far. You don’t need to worry.” 

You attempt to leave, again, but he doesn’t let you. Stopping you in your tracks with his arm out with stern look, the same one he’d give his younger siblings with his brow raised so they spill whatever secret they had. You, being the youngest in your family, also know that look very well.

“Just… I- Whenever I made food for my family when I was younger, it was alway untouched,” you whisper, your eyes looking down at the floor instead of up at him. His heart aches as the words reach his ears.

You dryly laugh, “It is not even that serious, but I guess it still hurt. I remember making them breakfast one time and no one ate it. Yeah, I was a teenager and maybe it didn’t look good, but… I hoped at least one person would have some.” 

You looked so small, curling into yourself as you seem to be overthinking the memory. 

Your words getting quieter and quieter as you spoke, “It also seemed like they didn’t think I could make good food? I don’t know. It’s not even that serious, really. My older sisters were better at making traditional food anyway. Even when I got better, I always worried no one would like it, so I just wouldn’t make it.” 

He swallows the ball in his throat, feeling his heart crumble. That explains the hesitant stare you’d give him as he ate your food. Whenever you make something, you’d add a small ‘It’s probably not good.’

He noticed, but just assumed you were learning to cook, not that you were embarrassed of your skill. Hell, you were better at many dishes than him. He’d have your food over anything his family made.

He lets out a guilty sigh and hesitantly reaches for your hand, “You’re a good cook, so please try not to demean yourself. I understand this hesitance of yours, but I would never, ever leave your food to rot. I’ll eat everything and anything you make.”

OldestSon!Nanami who silent vows to always eat the lunch you pack him. And as always your cooking was nice. YoungestDaughter!Reader who encourages him to at least decide the menu, so she does not make him something he dislikes. Who tell Nanami that he’s never obligated to eat everything, just as much as he wants.

OldestSon!Nanami and you who have yet to go on a honeymoon or big trip because your works have you two so, so busy. 

A month and a half has passed and the only time you really spend is either sleeping in the same bed or drinking a late warm beverage together. Only on weekends do you ever really spend time, time that you two spent on talking and slowly getting to know each other. Though, Nanami noticed you still tend to avoid getting too deep about things. He wasn't much better with talking about his past either, so he understands.

OldestSon!Nanami, who during one of the weekends, takes you to yet another hang out with his friends and juniors. It was a small get-together a Gojo’s. Everyone, except for those driving, was a tad bit (or really) drunk. Nanami avoided drinking and you did not drink either. You were allergic.

OldestSon!Nanami who kept you in eye distance even when he knew everyone. Who felt so fucking jealous when Gojo and Geto leaned into your space to hear you over the music and loud juniors. Who pretended to “fix” your sleeve, his hand grazing the wedding ring to clean it. Nanami, who makes quick glaring eye contact with Gojo and Geto, before stepping away from you.

YoungestDaughter!Reader who isn’t dumb about what just happened. She can assume what just occurred, but she still has her big doubts. The little touch of her ring, in front of two other good-looking men (who are Nanami’s friends), left her a little speechless, but she brushes it off. Because what if it was just that simple a brush of her rings and no thought to it? 

OldestSon!Nanami who would get you everything and anything you need, even when you always refused to want anything. Never asking. Never relying. Always being okay with anything. Who notices that you always getting something on the cheaper side.

YoungestDaughter!Reader who grew to be on her own and not rely on others. Who has a hard time letting others do anything for her. Who feels overwhelmed every time Nanami takes her out because she really cannot get used to him paying for things. Her solution? Anything cheap. 

OldestSon!Nanami and YoungestDaughter!Reader who try to unknowingly dance around the other, trying to adjust to what the other feels comfortable with. OldestSon!Nanami and YoungestDaughter!Reader who have been sleeping facing each other for a month and a half. You take a glimpse of him before closing your eyes.. And Nanami taking one last look at your peaceful, sleeping face before succumbing to sleep.

----

Credits for the characters to Gege Akutami, but this plot and these versions of the character are of my own (maybe OOC sometimes), so please refrain from plagiarizing.

I am currently NOT posting this elsewhere, so if there are works of thse anywhere else, let me know!

Thank you for reading!

[nottivagos]

Just read your last stalker! Carlos post and oh my days 😻 anyway just some more headcannons or drabbles for him pls 🙏 also I absolutely love your work!!

Welcome Notti's "Not So Innocent" Notebook where I write some filth to make your Wednesday a little bit better <3 || 18+ mdni pls and ty

an: oh nonnie... you're in for a treat with these headcanons... these are more into carlos's psyche or atleast, my interpretation of it. <3

taglist: @orangeblossomsintheair - thank u von for brainstorming these with me :)

Stalker!Carlos - "The Golden Son"

Carlos has always gotten what he wanted when he wanted it. Basically spoon fed privileges and demands all his life by his parents, so when it comes to having you all to himself it's the same. If he wants you, he'll get you. No questions asked.

So when he eventually kidnap you and you ultimately fall for him, he obviously sees it as an opportunity to introduce you to his parents! This is a great opportunity for you to meet your forever family, right? Carlos did cut you off from your parents, it was an action of care you didn't need them when you had him. He only wanted you to be happy in this "forever ever after" he'd created. You may as well make his parents your mama and papa too, right?

Wrong! You're ecstatic, you can't wait to tell them what their son has done and get him arrested once and for all. The only problem.. Getting Carlos distracted so he's not glued to you. He knew something was up from the way your eyes lit up as you basically bolted for his parent's door. Poor bunny, so beautifully scared, running to anyone for help.

However, this all backfires when they exclaimed to you about how "privileged you are to be the girlfriend of their wonderful son". You try to reason with them to which Carlos’s eyes darken angrily in response to you nearly being a blabbermouth on your situation. When you catch eyes with him, your skin becomes pale with fear and your eyes widen in shock of their ignorance. And he just replies with a smile, wrapping a large arm around your waist before pressing a loving kiss against your temple.

How I imagine the conversation to go down afterwards when you're both in your shared bedroom for the evening:

"you puta! how dare you try and open your mouth." he hissed in your face, before slapping it with such might, expression contorted into rage. "me and you were meant to be together," he sounds so confident, so sure that you're meant to be with him. it confuses you. you love him, of course you do, your life is great! but this isn't Carlos. this is some monster, a wolf growling at your bunny as it bares its sharp molars at you, getting ready for the kill. "you're happy, aren't you?" harsh interrogatives follow as you become a trembling mess, confused by his sudden change in attitude, the sheer fright in your expression at his explosive anger. he comes to grab your jaw, silencing you as you go to speak, to plead, anything. he's offended that you have the nerve to challenge him in any way, "not another word." he warns, voice low as his nails sink into your flesh, the piercing sensation and grip of you nearly turning you to tears. "if you ruin this for us, then i'll ruin you." the comment is bold as he whispers it with such malice, such cruelty in his actions, hot breath fanning against your plush lips, as he shoves you away with an irritated huff. (should i make this an actual fic)

Stalker!Carlos - Romantic Delusions

I feel like the whole "kidnapping" ordeal for Carlos was a downward spiral into some form of psychopathy.

It started tame. These things always do. You were new to the neighbourhood and Carlos was smitten. Ever heard of the red string theory? He took that theory of being soulmates and being "destined for each other" and put the whole theory on steroids. He's built up this messed up romantic delusion in his head that as soon as you're kidnapped and in his care forever that you'll instantly fall for him.

Well. When that doesn't happen he's confused. You'd crossed paths all the time before this "new life". He purposefully switches the mail in your mailbox JUST so you'll have to speak to him. He purposefully cuts the flowers in your flowerbeds so HE can knock on your door and give you more, JUST to see that gentle face light up at the shrubs he's gifted you.

The confusion makes him angry. Maybe that's why he's so aggressive with you when you try to escape in your early days of being "his girlfriend". Maybe that's why he has to drug you senseless so you follow his every word. Maybe that's why he's a hopelessly romantic freak. He's so deluded that he's built this haven away from civilisation so he can live in his dreams. In your dreams. Together, and forever always.

like stalker!carlos? fancy sending me an ask in my inbox so that you can be included in my notebook! - notti <3

[spoilerssweetie13]

Hi, I've been meaning to reply to this. I just haven’t found the time to sit down and write a whole essay, hehehe. I'll start off by saying I definitely get where you're coming from, but here's just my two cents on everything:

The Doctor has, at one point, been President of Gallifrey, and given how Time Lords are, I don't they would allow someone "less clever" than them to lead them. The Timeless Child isn't supposed to make the Doctor special. If anything, it makes them a victim of abuse dissected like lab rat by their own adoptive mother over who knows how lifetimes. The Timeless Child does not negate their choices. Instead, I feel adds to them. They are alien even to this universe but chose to save it time and time again. In a sense, if they hadn't been kidnapped the DW universe would have died a billion times over, isn't that beautifully fucked up in its own way?

Davros once asked Twelfth why he ran from Gallifrey, and under this new context of the Timeless Child, you realize, "Oh shit that's what he was running from." That's what they are all always running from. I also saw another post on here that said that the Time Lords "granted" Eleventh more regenerations to cover their own tracks, and that makes so much sense. The Time Lords don't do anything unless it benefits them. When you see the whole show under the lens of Timeless Child, all the pieces start to fall into place. It's definitely a different viewing experience. It becomes so much darker, and I think that's part of the appeal of the Timeless Child for me.

The Doctor did always feel like the adopted child of the family; Timeless Child just confirms it. But they will always be the Doctor, because the Doctor is the name that they chose for themselves, their empathy and and love for humanity has nothing to do with where they come from, and that was true even when we thought they were from Gallifrey. It's all about their choices, and they will always choose to be the Doctor sorting out fair play throughout the universe, no matter their origins.

Ever since I watched the Fugitive Doctor episode, every time someone new would pop up on screen, I would go is he the Doctor, is she the Doctor, [ominously whispers] are we all the Doctor? (Joking, but seriously, the paranoia did set in!) To me, Timeless Child isn't taking the Everyman-ness or Everywoman-ness away but adds to it by saying literally anyone and everyone can be the Doctor. You don't have to be born on Gallifrey to be the Doctor; hell, you don't even have to be from the DW universe, so we could all very well be the Doctor, lol.

Extended lore says Time Lords used Looms to procreate so I don't know why the Doctor wouldn't know who the Susan's parents are, unless it hasn't happened yet because of timey-wimey stuff [shrugs] probably will never happen now because of the retcon. :( Marrying a werewolf is crazy but it's the Doctor, so I'm not even surprised.

It's funny that I don't like the Bi-genration for the same reason that you do like it. That it's a one-off and will never happen again. To me, it feels too convenient compared to the Timeless Child. Love it, hate it, want to purge it from your memory, the Timeless Child will always be a part of the show's history, it's essentially a infinite money glitch, a way for the show to go on forever. See, what really gets me is that Fourteenth will just drop dead at one point, and Fifteenth will just get all his memories and be like, "I'm healed now." That feels too convenient. To me, that's messing with the established rules just as much as Timeless Child. If we're talking about closure Fourteenth and Donna should've gone back to The Library and Fourteenth should've used his "resemblance" to Tenth to his advantage to confuse the Vashta Nerada and somehow save River without time collapsing in on itself (but that's just the Doctor/River shipper in me speaking). To me, Donna just getting her memories was closure enough.

RTD said he didn't want to make a mockery of drag by putting David Tennant in Jodie's Whittaker outfit. Mind you, her outfit was specially designed so anyone can wear it. What's so feminine about trousers, a shirt and a coat? It seems to me that it was just done in bad faith.

Bigeneration is just as lore-changing as the Timeless Child. And yet no one shits on it because their precious RTD wrote it. If Chibnall did something like this, y'all would have your pitchforks at the ready. The double standards in this fandom, I swear. RTD is allowed to retcon Doctor Who, but heavens forbid Chibnall even try.

The Doctor is no longer even a parent because of him. David Tennant is a good actor, but I'm tired of people pretending like he's the face of Doctor Who. The whole point of the show is that the Doctor has different faces, and we should love them all—not regress backwards.

We deserved to see the Fourteenth Doctor in Thirteenth's clothes, and not for everything she is to burn up and die. The Fifteenth Doctor deserved his own regeneration scene like every other Doctor, without Fourteenth randomly sticking around because of RTD's inability to let go of the characters he wrote.

At least the Timeless Child added something more to the Doctor's story. Bigeneration took something away: the emotional impact of the Doctor's regeneration - having to say goodbye.

[asher-writes]

Author Ask Tag

Big thanks to @the-inkwell-variable for this tag!! Follow them!!

I suppose seeing as I'm posting The Anthology of Cardinal Sins, I'll talk about that!

What is the main lesson of your story? Why did you choose it?

So I was raised catholic, and the thing about being raised catholic is that it's like being dumped into a vat of guilt as a young child and then spending the rest of your life trying to make sense of the things you now have to unlearn.

I thought about how we learn that good is someone without sin, and I thought about how I think good people do bad things and try to do better. And then I wrote some stories about good people who do bad things, sometimes because they were just making bad choices, or trusted the wrong people. Sometimes because they thought they were doing the right thing. I also write about bad people who couldn't be worse, for the sake of it.

Ultimately, it's an examination of how goodness doesn't - and shouldn't - present itself as something squeaky clean and "without sin." Bad people are bad because it's easy for them. Good people do bad things, and they learn from them.

It's also about gay polyamory and love <3

What did you use as inspiration for your worldbuilding?

If I say I hallucinated most of it from a Hozier album, would you believe me? I also take big inspiration from Ghibli for the CS and Sleep of a King world. Other than that, different mythologies, mainly Christian and Greek.

What is your MC trying to achieve, and what are you, the writer, trying to achieve with them? Do you want to inspire others, teach forgiveness, or help the reader grow as a person?

I have a few MCs, but I'd say most of them are just trying to figure out how to be happy and do their jobs. I want people to forgive themselves, mostly. Nobody can be perfect.

How many chapters is your story going to have?

*is running away*

Is it fanfiction or original content? Where do you plan to post it?

Original content and I am posting it on Substack!

When did you start writing?

...I was a very lonely child. Despite being basically blind until I got my glasses, I was telling and writing and somehow reading from the age of 3. The optician could not understand how I was doing this as I had massive spot thingies at the back of my eyes. I don't know how I was doing this either.

Do you have any words of encouragement for fellow writers of writeblr? What other writers do you follow?

There are some days when I am so wrapped up in loathing of my writing. These are the days that you should post something.

I follow many, many other writers, but here's a list (pls take this as an invitation to do this tag):

@tc-doherty (fantastic YA author) @did-i-do-this-write (absolute MVP) @winterandwords (Recommend so highly I could combust), @oh-no-another-idea (Urban fantasy writer - which always has me by the hooks). @aromanticsky (Aromantic stories <3) @seastarblue (fantastic worldbuilder) and that's all I've got, but I Know I'm forgetting people.

[necrotic-nephilim]

as much as I love the common "Tim worships/stalks Jason" trope in TimJay fanfiction because it's Good and making Tim a weird little freak is Fun, I think the underutilized dynamic is where Jason is the one weirdly obsessed with Tim and makes it Tim's problem.

Like, the moment Jason is confronted with the information that a third Robin exists, the first thing he does is cover his wall with pictures of Tim so he can just obsess and torture himself over it. That is the behavior of a man who is Unwell over Tim's existence and I love it.

red hood: lost days #4

And as much as a shitshow as The Titans Tower Incident™ is characterization-wise (though I think it has far more merit in depicting Jason's character than people give it credit for but I digress-) there's something very fun about the fact that even after kicking his ass, Jason respects Tim and is impressed by him.

teen titans (2003) #29

And on top of that, Jason can't seem to stop trying to ask Jason to Tim to work with him in some capacity.

robin (1993) #177

batman: battle for the cowl #2

While Battle for the Cowl is an exceptionally bad comic, especially for its characterization of Jason and the "be my Robin" bit is taken deeply out of context, I do think it's interesting how obsessed Jason is with believing that Tim is extremely competent, only held back by being "brainwashed by Bruce". (hence him leaving Tim for dead later on in the comic.) Jason seeing a darker side of Tim and wanting to bring that out of Tim, wanting to see what Tim could be if he let go of his loyalty to Bruce is so fun to me, tbh.

And in Robin #177, Jason seems genuinely upset Tim doesn't want to work with him. Jason sees such a raw potential in Tim and is obsessed with it, constantly wanting Tim to work for him and see Tim be the type of person Jason is. And despite Tim rejecting him, Jason doesn't shoot to kill Tim. I just cannot get over the fanfic potential of Jason obsessing over Tim, tracking him and seeing what he's capable of and what he could be capable of. Wanting to make Tim see things the way he does. To Tim it's corruption, to Jason it's freedom. Tim trying to 'save' Jason is fun and all, but Jason trying to corrupt Tim? That's even more fun to me. Watching that power struggle between them, Tim unable to get Jason off his heels as Jason gets more and more possessive and bold with each attempt.

And when Jason sees Tim successfully get Gotham back under control after a gang war, he's impressed. He praises Tim, even. And then Tim just. Breaks him out of prison.

robin (1993) #182

The way they're constantly trying to see something in the other that isn't there, hoping the other will come around? That is the most fucked up hate/love dynamic ever. Jason keeps coming back to Tim, keeps trying to find ways to get Tim onto his side. They're always chasing each other. And I think Jason would be the one to confess love first, the one to do anything to make Tim his. And when you consider after all of this, Tim has his Red Robin arc and is at his lowest, getting the closest he ever gets to considering murder? I think it'd be so fun to see Jason take advantage of that and worm his way back into Tim's life and finally push Tim over the edge.

[hyacinthsdiamonds]

I'm sorry but the irony of Nico calling Max unprofessional is sending me so bad like sir there's an entire garage full of people, who were literally in the trenches trying to survive the Brocedes fallout while just doing their jobs, who might have a few things to say about your (& Lewis') level of professionalism at that time 😭✋️

[14dayswithyou]

no way you dropped the biggest river lore in the tags and moved on like it was nothing 😭 can i ask if this is still your intentions with him? bc it sounds like you changed your mind halfway 🤔

im ngl though i really enjoy how ren and river are similar and different to each other, but does that mean river would hurt his angel but leave our friends alone the same way ren would never hurt his angel but would unalive all of our friends? since they're suppose to be each other opposites. i really hope this makes sense 😬 my final question is what is ren doing on thursday? i want to go on a cute pier date again 🩷🌸

@secretkoa asked: and can i hear more about what unsent memory is suppose to be about or is that off limits? idk if i asked this in my previous question so ignore me if i did! thank yuo and remember to drink lots of water 🐸🌱

⌞♥⌝ For those who haven't seen the original post, I want to quickly clarify once more that while River was originally my OC, he's since been picked up and revamped by my friend Jesse/@unsentmemory!!

However, now that Jesse has stepped away from the yandere community, River's fate (and da fate of Unsent Memories) has kinda been put on the sidelines for the foreseeable future.

‼️ Massive Unsent Memories and River spoilers under the cut ‼️ CW for: mentions of gore, torture, mutilation, self-harm, etc.

With all of that being said, yes, Jesse's original intention for River was for him to be your standard "serial killer-turned-yandere once he accidentally catches feelings for his latest victim (Bunny)". The only main difference is that I originally planned for River to be a generic murderer first, whereas Jesse had him become a yandere right off the bat.

You also asked to know more about Unsent Memories, and I think giving a general synopsis(?) would be fine?? ^^ But basically... After getting involved in a car accident, Bunny wakes up with amnesia and gets tricked into thinking that this random guy — whom they've never met before — is their loving, supportive boyfriend named River. In turn, he convinces Bunny that staying in their shared home would be more beneficial than staying in the hospital as it might rekindle some old memories, he'd be able to take care of them, and it would be easier for them to recover at their own pace. But surprise!! River is actually a frequent patron at the Murderer Motel™ and now has trapped Bunny in his Torture Basement®!!! <3 He also maaaay or may not've been the one who hit them with Ren's car as well... ^^ Oopsie daisy hehe

And yeah!! Similar to what you've said, River was also supposed to share (somewhat of) a narrative foil with Ren!! I personally wanted them both to have similar, complimenting vibes with each other — all while having completely different/separate motives and incentives when it comes to the object of their affection. I'm glad to see it was conveyed well enough; even after Jesse's additions to River's characterisation :3 I know I already shared some examples in the previous tags, but I can share a few more:

Where Ren puts Angel's feelings and opinions above his own, River purposefully ignores Bunny's and does everything for his own personal benefit. Essentially, "I'm doing this for you" vs "I'm doing this for me".

While Ren would never dream about harming Angel in any capacity, he's perfectly happy to kidnap, extort, torture, and kill everyone else... In contrast to River, who's accustomed to torturing and brutalising others for his own twisted enjoyment and sees it as a way to show his interest in Bunny.

Kinda silly how Ren claims to be a freelance programmer (but is actually a hacker) and how River claims to work at a music shop (it's a coverup for his second torture chamber lmaoooo).

[CW: implications of SH] Ren is willing to go as far as mentally and physically hurting himself if Angel asks him to, whereas River is willing to physically mutilate Bunny if it means keeping them by his side. [end CW]

With that being said, you can assume that Ren is easily swayed by Angel's words, opinions, and emotions, whereas River can easily sway and manipulate Bunny due to his own feelings and emotions.

This is something I've actually mentioned before, but Ren always prefers things to be tidy, so he often cleans himself up after disposing of his victims. Compared to River, who casually wears the bloodstains with pride and blames it on getting a bit rough with someone else during a boxing match.

It's no secret that Ren is willing to change every aspect of himself to earn Angel's love, and River is willing to change his serial killer ways to return Bunny's love. Da power of friendship and repressed childhood memories gksdgjh T_T /silly

Ren pretends to be a Normal Guy© with tons of empathy to spare, whereas River pretends to be a Regular Person℗ with the heart of a himbo.

I could go on but you get da point lol

So, yeah!! This is essentially the vibes we had planned for River (and Unsent Memories) before Jesse stepped down /pos ^^ I feel like talking vaguely about UM is fine since River only has a small cameo in 14DWY — and I'm sure that if Jesse ever returns from war (/silly), they'll give River muuuuch more justice than I possibly can :3c

[poke-poke-poke]

Thinking about pkmn social media-- he's giving tips on how best to take care of pkmn that aren't too keen on water (goomy's there for enrichment)

...

his hoodie got soaked,,

[otome-dissection]

Idk man I just think that mizu/ena5 and its progression was really beautiful actually. I just think that the release of the ena5 song was also really beautiful and kind of the nail in the coffin for me and I haven't been able to get the event(s) out of my head all week and that I kind of want to talk about it, actually.

It's about being hurt so deeply and continuously that any kindness that could be offered to you manages to feel like a sin, that it makes you crumble and shatter but for all the wrong reasons, not because of the newfound safety, not out of relief, but something worse and more deeply ingrained in you than kindness ever was. It's about carefully measuring the distance at which you keep others away from yourself, to ensure that it never happens again ("To save yourself the trouble", if that makes it easier).

It's about realizing that the people you've been spending all this time with are drifting closer, that they just might bump up against the unsightly parts of yourself that you've tried to keep locked away, it's about turning around and sprinting at full speed and slamming the door shut and holding onto the handle behind you to stop it from turning, because you're as frightened of the possibility of another wound being inflicted on you as you are of the possibility that kinder, gentler hands will reach out and smooth over the exposed scar. It's about hating eyes that judge and silently condemn you as much as you hate eyes that simply see you and take all of you in without scrutiny, because no matter what they're looking and they're looking at you and they know that your hand's on that door handle and they know that you're hiding something because, as much as you try to keep it shut, they've seen through the crack that you foolishly left open.

(The prominence of eyes in Bake no Hana, specifically eyes looking and searching, and finally landing on you, the viewer, Mizuki, is so fucking. Visceral in my opinion. Every character in the MV stares at the viewer in a deadpan, almost judging way. Even though Mizuki knows deep down that niigo won't really hate them, won't judge them, she just can't stand their kindness either; any gaze directed at her is a loss, another prick in their skin. It screams "don't look at me" while making sure that you know, with horrific certainty, that they're looking for you, that you're being watched. You can't go outside, can't leave your room, because they're searching for you, and while that should be reassuring, to you it's anything but).

It's about not wanting to be dissected, whether it's with hands that want to pull your organs apart or stitch them back together because no matter what they're there, and they're getting frighteningly close to your heart. It's about blinding yourself and covering your eyes to it all because seeing means exposure and exposure means they're taking something from you and you can't do anything about it, much less take it all back, much less have a say in the matter. Everyone's just taking and taking and taking and you wish you could just be alone. You wish everyone would just disappear and you could live in a world all to yourself, for only yourself (but is that really what you want?).

It's about the way that, near the beginning of the Yoka ni Mitoreta MV, Mizuki and her loneliness is represented as a dark, splotchy stain in the shadows. No colors, no patterns, no way to clean it or wash it all away, just raw ugliness marring a blank canvas. It's about the way that Ena reaches out to it anyway, the way she startles when the glass shatters just when she finally starts reaching forward, the way that the rest of the MV/song represents her searching for and reaching only further out to Mizuki, even if the broken shards of glass will only cut her fingers, potentially leaving scars.

It's about how, in every way, subtly, directly, consciously, and subconsciously, Ena shows that she fucking cares.

It's about the way that Ena lets Mizuki have autonomy, despite the situation being so horribly out of their control. And it's such a delicate thing: If she really wants to, Mizuki can take the opportunity to just run away, keep running forever, repeat the cycle over and over, and maybe she'll just destroy herself with it again, but it can't be denied that it's something important to them, something she can't quite live without just yet, their means of survival. Mizuki's autonomy is their identity, it's her tailoring her own clothes and choosing her own ribbons and styling her own hair the way she does. Ena letting them have that is as much about trust as it is about understanding that Mizuki of all people should have this right, when control was something stripped from her throughout so much of her life. She couldn't control how she was born, how people look at her or why, can't control what they think of her; lacking control has only left Mizuki vulnerable to the cruelties of others, has only caused them to suffer, which is why it's so important that it's given to them now.

She had the control to make the choice to see niigo's welcoming love and run away instead of staying, and she has the control to make the choice now whether she wants to keep things the way they are or take a step forward to be at their side again. She has every right to have it, and I think the fact that Ena realizes and respects that, even if it's subconsciously, is really beautiful (there is an entire fucking Verse about this in the new song and just. God Look at this. It's so caring, unconditional, and for fucking What. I think there is something to be said about how much Ena is willing to put aside for Mizuki, and maybe deep down it isn't healthy, but for now I'm just kind of in awe)

It's about how insanely patient Ena has been this whole time. Mizuki says that she basically lied to Ena's face about telling her their secret, even after Ena said with such conviction that she would wait for Mizuki as long as it takes, and Ena is just kept waiting and waiting and worrying like this seemingly indefinitely. It's about how Mizuki danced around it, avoided it, kept the distance, straight up ran when she was finally pushed, but Ena still chased anyway when she saw that she couldn't wait anymore, kept chasing just enough to intervene and get a straight answer out of Mizuki when she really needed to, but still leaving her enough space to leave if that was truly what she wanted. It's about how relieved Ena is the moment that Mizuki finally says outright how much they want to be with her and niigo, how much she wants to try, how much more light Ena's voice sounds when she grabs her hand, relieved, the way that the relief she feels can be felt through the music, throughout the entirety of Yoka ni Mitoreta, the way that warm colors always follow her when she chases after Mizuki, just to hold onto her and stop her from running away completely.

It's about how that careful combination of Ena's directness, Ena's persistence, Ena's warmth, her patience, her bluntness about her feelings, the way she chases and holds on but not too tight and her regard for how unsafe and exposed Mizuki feels actually works and breaks it all down. It's about how she really did reach through to Mizuki, despite the thorns and broken glass shards and nearly-unfulfilled promises, the way that Mizuki did finally let her turn the door handle and step through to see what she'd been hiding all this time, the way that Mizuki's hand, limp, when Ena first grabs onto it, shifts to hold hers back as they cry in the face of Ena's gentleness.

Despite how harsh Mizu/Ena5, and even Ena herself as a character can be (or at least was in the very beginning of pjsk), everything is somehow gentle and warm in the end, blindingly so. And you know what, I think that's beautiful. And what's even more beautiful than that is how Mizuki allows themself to crumble and shatter under that kindness, that warm light, but this time, finally, out of relief.

On a final note, I just want to say that I also appreciate how all that didn't have to solve everything. The scars haven't disappeared, haven't gone away, and Mizuki knows that their desire to run hasn't gone away forever, and maybe it never truly will. But for now they've calmed it, at least a little. She's learning to allow herself to be seen, learning that when someone's fingertips brush over their scars the way Ena's did that it's only out of care, and that maybe taking in that care and allowing herself to feel kindness and safety is okay. They're safe, for now, somehow. They're learning. They're trying. And I think that's cool :)

[gracekraft]

Clone High Season 3 (or Season 2 of the reboot) is out now!

And I'm gonna celebrate with some Kahlopatra~

I storyboarded on a few episodes this season, look for my name in the credits if you check it out! I'm on 1, 5 and 8.