#but at least u can read it here if u feel so inclined

[psalacanthea]

idk just some DAI Solavellan stuff. Solas POV, 2.6k, Mature.

Three hours of pensive searching and troubled wandering had finally borne fruit.

Ellana had been impossible to find since their tumultuous arrival at Skyhold, a habit which had become her silent protest against what she could not change or control.  Solas understood, but he knew it was not merely suffering that drove her away.  It was also spite and anger, two emotions she felt perhaps more deeply than even he realized.  At first he had thought her reticence was merely distrust.

Now that they were acquainted, he could see instead the rage that fueled her silence and stubbornness, the hatred she bore towards the Chantry that had made an icon and a prisoner of her.

He had no doubt that Leliana had an idea of where the newly-christened Inquisitor was, but she and the spymaster had an odd understanding.  He hadn’t intended to overhear Ellana taking her own life hostage to make a point to Leliana, but it had deepened his understanding of her.  Solas had little doubt Ellana would in fact kill herself if they tried to drive her too far.

There was a selfishness in her he abhorred, but a desperation he understood.

Unfortunately, to find her forced a contemplative stroll through the ruins of what had been built over Tarasyl’an Te’las.  It was foreign enough to dull that distant pain, but every now and again there would be a sign.  A piece of Elvhen statuary shattered into gravel, visible only due to its material, hints of older stonework at the base of some walls.  The bones of an ancient dragon encased in stone formed long after its death.

She was atop the walls, in the center of an intact section bounded by shattered stonework; a destination with no easy path to reach it.

A tower kept it from view, but he had heard the sounds of metal on stone in the distance, giving her position away.  After navigating the crumbled stonework to the top, she came into view at last.  The way between them was treacherous, a long section of fallen wall caved by ancient siege weaponry, no doubt.  It was tumbled into a pile, some of which had fallen down the side of the cliff.  

She sat on the intact wall beyond it, her back to Solas, a campfire lighting her silhouette.  Tendrils of deep mahogany hair were pulled free of her messy braid, streaming in the cold wind that blew past; the only signs of motion from her.  He knew instantly why she had gone silent and still.

Better to simply admit his approach, then, since she knew he was coming.  “Were you intending to stay all night, I wonder?”

In one fluid movement, she rose.  Her limbs unfolded, and then extended, arms stretching over her head until she stopped, short and sharp with a wince.  The left elbow again, he imagined. The fingers stretched wide over her head towards the evening sky curled in, hands balling into fists as her arms fell like dead weight to her sides.  Turning on her toes, she faced him at last.

Her impenetrable, sharp-jawed face was calm, eyes dark with their current distance and the light behind her.

Wide lips pursed minutely as she walked to the edge of the wall, the crumbling gap and the tempestuous mountain wind between them.

“I am displeased to see you, falon.  You should take care.  If you keep pestering me on word of the Andrastians, I may begin to think of you in the same light.”

“The only curiosity I sate is my own, lethallan,” he said, ignoring her return to sarcastic formality.

A grim smile touched her lips, but not her cold voice.  “Not going to fetch me for Cassandra this time?”

“No.  I asked that she no longer involve me.”

Her expression was bland and unreadable, but her eyes were alight with a gleam of curiosity.  “Why?”

“In light of your considerable and ever-increasing quarrel with the Chantry, I have decided to alienate them rather than you,” Solas replied, rather than lying to her.  She accepted lies without question, but counted them, and he had already lied to her more than he was comfortable with.  Every lie compounded, and renewed scrutiny might see things he would rather not be seen.

Finally she smiled, half-hearted and rueful, shaking her head.  “Your placation skills are as impressive as ever.  Don’t feed me medicine and tell me it’s honey, Solas.”

“It was a great unkindness, what Leliana did.”

Her smile faded away, and the light left her eyes.  “I’m tired of shouting over the wind.  Find your way across or go away,” she said, turning on her heel and returning to her fire.  He could see the frustration in her sharp steps, in the way she threw herself down on the stones.

By now he knew that his struggling might amuse her, but it would garner no sympathy or softening of her attitude.  And so, rather than making a show of attempting the dangerous climb, a feat which would be simple for her, he made the trek simple for himself as well.  Using magic, of course.  

Whatever occupied her continued to, and he knew it wasn’t merely a show of ignoring him.  

  Crossing the ruined wall was completed in a heartbeat, and as she was watching he didn’t bother to reduce his ability down to a spell she might recognize and accept.  Ellana seemed intensely familiar with magic, he’d cast before without a staff in the midst of a fight and he’d seen her discreetly checking his hands for injuries at camp.  Which he’d had, of course.  Some singed fingertips were a small sacrifice to his facade.

Not that she had any herself, but unlike the humans she treated it as something unremarkable as lighting a fire with flint and steel.

“Mac na galla,” she cursed under her breath, in a language he recognized but did not understand.

Something from the Free Marches, which made sense considering her origin.

As he came close, able to see over her shoulder, he could see what she was doing.  A small, rectangular metal box rested next to her knee, an array of tools and half-finished pieces spread before her.  Resting in the heart of her fire was a small crucible approximately the size of a teapot, which was filled with melted metal.  The source of her curse seemed to be a shorn nail, which had torn the delicate skin underneath, leaving a thin, ragged piece of nail behind at the edge.  It was bleeding, but she’d apparently already dismissed that injury, tossing a piece of her nail aside and picking up a half-finished arrowhead.

Having just been unmolded, it was rough and covered in burrs from its casting.  She picked up a file and began working at them, barely moving as he circled the fire to sit across from her.  There was a flicker of a sidelong glance, but nothing else.  

She had obliquely invited him to stay, and so he had no qualms about interrupting what was obviously some form of meditation. Self-soothing, perhaps, or simply a repetitive task to help clear her mind.  The Inquisition had plenty of arrows.

“Your finger is bleeding.  Might I assist?”

“Bleeding cleanses the body,” she muttered, which was entirely untrue.

“I am fairly certain all that bleeding accomplishes, in most cases, is to relieve you of your blood.”

“You can do some blood magic with it if you want,” she said, finger dripping onto her thigh as she filed down a spike of pebbled iron from the edge of the arrowhead.  It was a narrow, pyramidal one, of the type she tended to use against templars.

“I will abstain.  Was it you that left the basket in my tent?  If so, thank you– it is exactly what I was in search of.”

“The mountain pine trees have good bark for weaving.  The inner bark, not the outer.  The outer makes excellent fire-starters, especially if you can find a pitch-knot.  If you soak their cone-buds in honey for six months, strain, boil, and then ferment it, it makes something called melash, I think, but we just called it pine wine.  I learned it from a Frostback clan during the Arlathvhen.”

He had to admit, privately, that at times her presumption that he was an ignorant, helpless scholar that needed to be taught everything did grate.  On the other hand, in his company she was completely free with her speech, manner, and all of those vicious bristling edges she hid from everyone else.  She treated him, for better or worse, like she would any Dalish despite their disagreements about her people.  With one glaring difference– Ellana habitually acted as if he was a bird fallen out of a nest, something pitiable and fragile.

At least he had proven he knew how to forage, which had quelled her fears that he was three seconds from starving to death at all times.

Her concern was amusing, but knife-edged and imperious.  He knew it by now intimately, and no longer felt any arrogance in it.  She simply knew no other way to show people that she cared.  Not with her guard up constantly.

She and Sera were constantly at odds due to it, which was amusing to witness.  

Solas sat in quiet, contemplative silence, watching as she finished the arrowhead and moved to the next.

The metal box split in half, width-wise, revealing an interior packed with damp sand.  She pressed it back into each disheveled half, leaving it flat, and then carefully pressed her new arrowhead into the surface.  Then the box was closed over the arrowhead, to force its impression into the sand.

It was calming to watch her, scarred, graceful hands moving with authority and purpose, not a moment’s hesitation to impede her work.  He could imagine her as she doubtless had been, doing this exact same thing at a thousand firesides, during a thousand nights, small practiced movements as intricate as a dance and just as full of beautiful artistry.  The arrow was removed from the mold, and she set it atop her left knee, perched for later use.

The mold closed again, with a small reed caught between the halves to leave an opening for the metal to pour into the cavity.  The metal glowed, a sullen fiery hue, as she used a small metal ladle with a spout to scoop up the molten iron and tipped it into the mold.  The arc of magma-hot liquid iron was transfixing, despite the brevity of the moment.

She set the mold aside to cool, and lifted her narrowed eyes back to his face.  “You heard her threaten me.  You heard me threaten her.”  It was a statement, not a question, so he waited until she continued.  “You must be disappointed again that I had to be forced into the role they have chosen for me instead of happily sacrificing myself to save Thedas like a good little icon.  So please, tell me how selfish I am for attempting to choose my manner of death.  Make certain to be abstruse, or I won’t know how smart you are.”

“Yet again I am scolded for preferring specificity in my speech.  Lethallan, were I to write a treatise on you, it would be filled with contradictions.” 

Solas was pleased to see her smile, sly and barely-stifled.  Still, he hadn’t quite spoken his thoughts, which was what he had come here to do.  It was a faint hope that his words– marred by secrecy and a thousand lies– would do any good to comfort her, but he could try.

“It need not end in death, Ellana.”

“It will,” she replied placidly, staring into the fire.  “One way or another, it will.  To be raised up is to be chiseled down, the pieces of yourself that are inconvenient, or wrong, or too uncomfortable removed from you.  By force, if necessary, and by history, inevitably.  Whatever survives this will not be me, if anything does.”

She looked up at him, eyes reflecting the molten metal, gleaming like a predator in the night.

“I am already dead, Solas, I’ve told you.  I can feel them killing me.”

It was too matter-of-fact for dramatics, the words laden with a hard-won weariness and resignation that gave them a vicious certainty.  

“If you can think of any wisdom, any wisdom at all that will make this burden lighter for me, then speak.  But until the day I do not feel my back breaking under the weight of their expectations every time they look at me, this is where you will find me.  But eventually…”  She reached over and knocked open the mold, pulling a jagged arrowhead from it.  Lifting it, Ellana shifted her gaze over to it, gently spinning the metal in her fingers.  “Eventually there will be nothing of me left.  But there is no sympathy for me, no.  Because I am a thing, a beacon, a hand and not the woman connected to it.”

She turned the arrowhead one last time, and then tipped it towards him.  He could see the flaw in the metal, a hollow that had not filled properly during the casting.  It was thrown back into the crucible, his eyes tracking it, watching the metal begin to soften at the edges as it gave in to the heat.

“Would it make for a better tragedy for me to be hopeful, Solas?  To rail against the very sky, to stand up against an ancient magister like a child flinging stones at a giant?  Would that make it sad enough?  How pathetic must I be?  How humbled?  Tell me, Solas.  What form of martyr must I be?”

There was no answer that was both kind and true. “Ir abelas, my friend.”

Ellana laughed, soft and hollow, graceful, able hands limp in her lap. “Are you disappointed in me?”

“No,” he said quietly, “I am not.”

The wind whistled past them as the conversation fell silent.  

Fading from the edges of the sky, the day finally ended, leaving them in a circle of firelight   with the darkness all around them.  Ellana made no move to craft another arrows, busy, helping hands unable to do anything to lighten her burdens.  The guilt he felt in that moment eclipsed, even for a moment, the shield wall of duty and distance that kept him focused on his goals.

They had always felt small, these vestiges of the Elvhen, but at this moment he felt as overwhelmed by inevitability and grief as she did.

In this moment they were joined, and equal.

Victims of his grief.

“I’ve been thinking about when we spoke of your dreams.  Your Fade journeys.  It was some time ago, when–”

“I remember,” Solas said quietly.

“Not even the spirits will really remember me as I am, but as whatever they make of me,” she said with a small, faint laugh.  “Somehow that makes it all worse.”

“I will share my memories of you," he said, an odd, uncomfortably impulsive promise. It was no burden to make, of course, but it came with an emotion that must be ignored. Thrust aside. "Such as they are."

"Unflattering?" she joked grimly, and shook her head, leaving a smear of char on her forehead as she pushed her hair away. "The truth often is unflattering, Solas. You have ink on your chin."

Hastily he reached up to lick his thumb and wipe it away, her tired laugh easing some of the tension in the air. When he glanced up, she was smiling at him, and her eyes were clearer. Less heavy.

"Will you tell me a story?"

"I would be glad to," he assured her quietly.

And he did- ensuring it was a story with no villains, no struggle, and most importantly, no heroes.

There had been enough tragedy already.

[ellecdc]

hi! i absolutely love your works, particularly your poly!marauders(w/lily). i think you write them so beautifully and harmoniously that you can't help but fall in love with them.

i wanna compliment you on your recent two-parter about remus and the whole revealing the werewolf thing. the angst to fluff had me on the edge of my seat. thank you for writing such a piece! 🤍

i hope its not too much to ask but in part 1, there's a brief mention of sirius receiving letters from i can assume is his family that lily confiscates and the group tends to love on him a bit more. let's say reader isn't in the loop about sirius' family life and she feels a bit sad that she can't comfort sirius like the rest can, and in general feels lost because it's another thing she isn't 'let in on'. i was wondering if you could write a little something on that? maybe some misunderstandings with a fluffy ending?

i hope this is something you're ok w writing 🥹 if not, its ok! still wish u the best always!

this is so sweet - thank you! & thanks for your request - hope you like it!!

pt 1 // pt 2 // pt 3 // pt 4 // pt 5

poly!marauders + lily x fem!reader who find's her own way to comfort Sirius - 2.1k

CW: brief mention of Sirius' childhood, allusions to anxiety, our shy Hufflepuff reader, hurt comfort, Sirius-centric

There was this saying that you never really understood before.

Love makes you do crazy things. 

And while the definition of crazy may be up for debate, you’re quite sure it could be understood as acting completely out of character.

So here you were, acting completely out of character; voluntarily marching towards a secluded end of the library where three Slytherin’s were sitting that you had - up until this point - managed to avoid completely. 

But you couldn’t, wouldn’t, avoid them any longer; not now, not for Sirius. 

The dust settled relatively well after the news of Remus’ lycanthropy had been shared with you; the five of you seemed to find a sort of freedom in not having to hide from one another anymore. Remus could be himself, the other’s could love him appropriately, and you could too. 

But another one of those black envelopes with  a green wax seal showed up at breakfast yesterday, and the group delved into their usual hide-the-envelope-and-coddle-Sirius practice. 

Lily took the envelope and disposed of it, James and Sirius had a floo call with the Potter’s, and Remus’ mum and dad sent baked goods from Wales via owl. 

You had since gathered that these letters were coming from his parents, or at the very least from someone in the Black family; you had also gathered that the contents of the letter’s were hurtful or upsetting to Sirius. And even though he never got to read them, a heavy cloud seemed to form and follow the young ex-heir around. 

And your heart felt heavy; not because they were keeping anything from you, per se, but rather because they seemed to have a routine that didn’t include you.

And while you didn’t want to encroach in spaces that you weren’t necessarily invited in, you couldn’t help but feel like you should be doing more. 

Lily, James, and Remus all had something they could offer Sirius; they all had some way that they could support him. 

You didn’t.

And it wasn’t for a lack of trying on your part, but rather that no one seemed particularly inclined to burden you with any negativity. 

“Don’t worry about me, babydoll; this is standard Black stuff. I’ll be just fine.” Sirius had said when you asked if he was okay; his usual salacious smile significantly dimmed as it seemingly took the majority of his effort in his response. 

The others hadn’t been much help either; Remus and James effectively telling you that you were too sweet to have to worry about such horrid people, and Lily trying to assure you that they had it under control and not to worry - Sirius would be okay. 

And that was all well and good, but it wasn’t enough for you - it was about sodding time you started pulling your weight in this relationship.

So - with nothing more than the teeniest bit of courage you were sure you pilfered from your four Gryffindors and perhaps a healthy dose of delusion - you forced your feet to take you in the direction of the only person in the entire castle you thought might possibly be able to help you. 

“My, my, my; to what do we owe the absolute pleasure, little Puffle?” Barty Crouch Junior mocked as you paused at their table; Evan Rosier and Regulus Black picking their heads up to look at you incredulously and bemusedly respectful. 

“Did ya get lost there, L/N? Need me to find you one of your Gryffindor’s?” Evan taunted, earning him what looked like a kick in the shin from Regulus, though you couldn’t be certain on account of the table impeding your view.

“Erm…I-I was sort of wondering if I could speak with you, Regulus?” You managed to murmur awkwardly.

The three Slytherin’s seemed to have a silent conversation as they shared glances before Barty shrugged and Evan rolled his eyes; both standing and leaving the two of you some privacy. 

Regulus watched as you cast a hasty muffliato around the table - another trick you’d picked up from the Gryffindor’s - and as you helped yourself to a seat with your boyfriend’s younger brother. 

“Is Sirius okay?” Regulus asked quickly, his voice no more than an urgent whisper as he looked at you imploringly.

His intensity caught you off guard; you were so certain getting anything out of the notoriously stand-offish Slytherin would be next to impossible, but he had beat you to the conversation and seemed to be just as worried about his brother as you were. 

You remembered then why you liked Slytherin’s so much; you often found a kindred spirit in them, for one thing that a Slytherin valued most was a sense of loyalty.

Well, didn’t you have enough loyalty to use to your advantage. 

You wondered rather belatedly if you had overstepped. It was admittedly too late to ask yourself this now; standing outside of the boys’ dorm with a package in your hand.

What’s done is done. You had a one-track mind, and that was to help Sirius.

With this, you raised your hand and gently knocked on the door.

It had been James to open the door; his jaw tense until he saw you, which seemed to cause his face to melt into an awkward expression you couldn’t quite decipher.

“Hi angel.” He greeted apologetically. “You okay?”

You were confused by his greeting, and his question, and the fact that he hadn’t moved out of the way of the door to invite you in as he usually did.

“I’m fine.” You responded quickly, trying to look behind him. “What’s wrong?”

James made a sound of discomfort in the back of his throat as he looked over his shoulder, still not moving to allow you entry. 

“Listen, sweetheart; I’m not sure now is a great time…”

“It’s Sirius, is it?” You asked quickly. His responding grimace proving your suspicions. “I need to see him.”

“Sweets, maybe you could come back la-”

But later wasn’t good enough, you see. You had a one-track mind, and that was to help Sirius.

So, in the name of love making you do crazy things and still acting completely out of character for you, you shoved your way past James’ hip, bending under his arm to allow yourself your own entrance to the boys’ dormitory. 

Lily sat at the end of Sirius’ bed where she had one hand resting on his ankle; her thumb stroking back-and-forth over his achilles tendon.

Remus sat against the headboard with Sirius in his arms; his lips pressed against his hair as he murmured sweet nothings to him.

And as you stepped closer, you could see an indent where James had been sitting, opposite of Lily likely serving the same support as your red-headed girlfriend.

“Siri?” You asked quietly, causing him to stiffen significantly before sitting up and feigning nonchalance.

“Hi doll.” He croaked then, wiping angrily at the tear tracks on his face and pasting on a smile. “Didn’t mean for you to see me like this. What’s up?”

You hated the faux blase act he was putting on for your sake, but you reminded yourself why you were here.

To help.

“I have something for you.” You offered quietly, procuring the parchment wrapped package and holding it out for him. 

“Awe.” He chuckled wetly with a sniffle. “You didn’t need to get me anything.”

“Well, I suppose I can’t take all the credit for it.” You replied, watching him pause in the process of opening to look at you in confusion.

“Open it.” You encouraged.

He finished ripping the parchment from the box before lifting the lid.

You felt your heart stop as the lid fell unceremoniously from his hands and a small gasp left his lips at the sight of the small, stuffed black cat sitting inside.

You’d spent the afternoon learning about the tail of two toys; Splash the cat and Padfoot the dog. The only toys the two young Black family boys were given came from their Uncle Alphard in the form of a plush cat and a plush dog; both with black fur as a nod to the family name and the boys’ hair colour. 

Even though Uncle Alphard had given the dog to Sirius and the cat to Regulus, the boys often traded, depending on their current circumstances. 

You learned that when Sirius went to Hogwarts, he had left with the cat. 

When he returned home after having been sorted into the wrong house, Regulus had given him the dog.

And when Regulus joined Sirius at Hogwarts only to be ripped from his brother - possibly for good - after being sorted into Slytherin, he pilfered the dog from Sirius and left him with the cat.

They never discussed those plush toys again.

And when Sirius fled Grimmauld place one horrible night in June between fifth and sixth year, he left with nothing but his wand, the clothes on his back, and his school trunk.

Left behind was poor Splash the cat.

Regulus - fearing his mother would go on a warpath and completely destroy everything in Sirius’ room - quickly grabbed the cat and had kept it hidden in his school trunk ever since.

Until today. Until now.

Now, he left Splash with you; trusting that you would return him to his person, the one who needed him the most.

“How…” Sirius whispered as he quietly pulled the plush toy from the box; hands painfully gentle as if the toy would simply turn to ash should he jostle it. “Where did you get this?”

“I didn’t steal it, if that’s what you’re asking.” You tried to joke in an attempt to keep the moment light. Sirius simply turned his disbelieving gaze from the toy to you.

“You spoke with him?”

Suddenly, your fears that you had completely overstepped came flooding back; a nervous sort of nausea settling deep within your stomach that threatened to make this awkward moment horribly worse.

“I…I did- I didn’t say anything, of course! Because there was nothing to say, because I don’t actually know anything, which is fine too! I just…I couldn’t…well, you see, I just had to do something, you know? I couldn’t just-”

Your ramblings were (thankfully) cut off when the air nearly completely left your lungs as Sirius attached himself to your middle; his arms winding tightly around your body where they met in the middle of your back. You could feel the impression of Splash against your back from where he was still in Sirius’ grasp.

“I’m sorry if I upset you - I know it wasn’t my place, but-”

“You’re incredible.” Sirius whispered then. “I can’t believe you’d do this for me.”

“You’re not mad?” You whispered back, causing Sirius to pull away from you, only far enough to be able to look into your eyes with ill-hidden admiration. 

“My sweet shy girl; approaching Slytherin’s for me.” He murmured, causing Remus and Lily to snort and James to gawk.

“You did what!?” 

“You do know that a quarter of our school is made up of Slytherin’s, right?” You asked James then; Sirius pulling you back into his chest when you dared to remove your gaze from him.

“That’s entirely too many Slytherin’s, my girl.” James muttered, though he relented in his admonishment of you for your crime of daring to speak to your classmates in order to sit beside your other two lovers. 

“I can’t believe he gave this to you.” Sirius whispered; holding the cat up behind your back so he could examine it over your shoulder.

“He didn’t give it to me, Sirius.” You whispered back as you pulled away from him so you could look into his eyes. “You have a lot of people in your corner; more than you know.” 

His eyes seemed to well again, though he didn’t look nearly as heartbroken as he did when you first walked in, so you counted that as a win. 

“What did I do to deserve you, hm?” He asked then before pressing a lingering kiss to your lips.

You’re sure you could have counted at least seventeen ways in which Sirius Black deserved the nicest things you had to offer, but right now you were more focused on the feel of his lips against yours.

If love made you do crazy things, and those crazy things brought you to this; this being Sirius moulding himself to you as if he hoped he could make a home for himself inside of your soul, then you would happily spend the rest of you life mad as one could be.

You hadn’t fixed anything, not by a longshot; but you had helped, even if only just a little.

His lips tasted of salt and perhaps some sadness, but also of hope.

And for now, that was enough.

[verysium]

I’ve been seeing some discourse around twitter about the blue lock boys and whether they’d be a loyal bf or not 😭 Curious to know who do you think would be more inclined to cheat or who just wouldn’t at all!!!

I saw someone say sae would 100% cheat like whattt I feel like he wouldn’t even bother looking at anyone else if he already has someone (Cuz I mean dating him would likely mean you actually mean something to him) but I digress

ok anon you had me pulling up a whole argumentative essay here cus WHO TF SAID SAE WOULD 100% CHEAT??? 😔 that mischaracterization is so painfully inaccurate. twitter really took the whole emotionally unavailable itoshi archetype and ran with it. let me just clear the air here because my man deserves some explanation.

sae itoshi would not cheat. as in capital N and capital O. he took nearly an entire decade off his life just to work on his own issues and finally form a functional and healthy relationship with another human being. and you're telling me he's just going to let all that wash down the drain for someone else? 😒 twitter logic really be showing its illogical side here. apparently a man can be loyal to a professional sports career for eighteen years, but he can't be loyal to his significant other.

i think this misunderstanding probably happened cus of shidou. people read the manga and saw that sae dropped rin for a bug-eyed freak and automatically assumed he was disloyal. 😑 let me just say two things here:

(1) sae and shidou's relationship is strictly professional. imagine being stuck in an god awful corporate office with coworkers who bore you with their weaponized incompetence and a boss who annoys the living shit out of you. and then one day, the company hires a new recruit who is probably the most unhinged and debauched creature known to man. you're probably left wondering how he even got hired in the first place. but then you find out...he's useful. he takes risks and gets a high return on what he invests. it's impulsive and stupid, really. but at least it's unconventional and outside-the-box. he has your interest piqued. that's basically sae and shidou in a nutshell.

(2) just because sae gave shidou his number after the u-20 game does NOT mean he would do the same to any other person who would try to encroach on your relationship. and let's be real here. sae would get one text from shidou and block his contact.

anyways, here is my analysis on the bllk boys in general. introducing the anti-cheating to pro-cheating spectrum:

(A) cannot cheat under any circumstance (as in they already hate the fact that they live on a planet with 8.1 billion other people who are not you):

itoshi brothers (atp they don't even have the physical or mental capacity to entertain a third party), ness, reo

(B) cannot cheat due to physical incapability (literally cannot pull anyone within a five-meter radius to cheat with):

ego, igarashi, raichi, bachira (not that he's in any way unattractive...it's just...i feel like he would purposefully act weird to drive off people who aren't you)

(C) could not cheat (basically option A and B but less problematic version)

yukimiya, barou, kunigami, noa, loki, gagamaru, chigiri, niko, hiori, karasu (baby boy literally felt inferior cus his crush was the cutest in his class), kurona (head empty, just you)

(D) would not cheat (on you but everyone else is not included)

isagi (unintentionally a homewrecker to others but would never let anyone homewreck his relationship with you), leonardo (idk why but i just don't trust him entirely)

(E) could cheat (depends on what they get out of it):

kaiser, shidou (honestly what did you expect when you willingly dated a blonde man...)

(F) would cheat (either proven by canon or they accidentally fucked up somehow):

otoya, oliver, nagi

[hrryshoney]

you’re asking me my symptoms, doctor

A/N: hii here’s beloved gyno!au. title is reference to Escapism by Raye lol. i’ll put warnings but def don’t read if this is gonna make u uncomfy. anyways this really came to me in a prophetic vision (slut hour daydreams) so i hope u enjoy and it lives up to expectations? and Shouts to everyone who i bounced ideas w and talked abt this Man w! ty ily mwah mwah

warnings: smut 18+, fingering, inappropriate actions in a doctors office, a bit of corruption maybe hmm idk, degradation, praise, taboo topics/power imbalance (doctor/patient), use of Y/N, dom and sub dynamics, problematic age gap maybe (reader is 22/23, matty is 29/30), dirty talk, etc..

You were sitting nervously on the exam table, leg bouncing up and down. Doctor’s offices always unnerved you, to say the least. The unnatural fluorescent lights with their buzzing, the cold chill, and sterile smell.

Today, though, you had to book your gynecologist appointment. Now, you’ve been to one gyno before, a woman whose practice was nice and small before you moved cities. Going into your third year of University, you wanted a change in scenery. Now, your gyno would be a man.

A kind woman with dark hair had just come into your room after knocking twice, giving you a hospital gown and a warm smile. Telling you to undress to your underwear and bra. That you should, “Sit tight! The doctor will be in soon.”

So, here you were. On the examination bed, awaiting your doctor eagerly. When you heard a similar knock on the door, but an imperceptibly firmer one, your head shot up. “Come in,” you cleared your throat and called out.

When the handle turned and your aforementioned Doctor walked in, you felt deceived. Deceived in the best way, though, because your Doctor was hot.

He was wearing a white coat, one with a silver tag that read MATTY, his medical badges hanging from the plate. With his glasses and the lightest dusting of gray through his black, curly hair. He couldn’t have been younger than his late 20s, if older than his early 30s. And as he reached out to grab the clipboard off the counter, you were able to see the smallest bit of black ink on his wrist.

He looked down at his documents, squinting slightly. He then set it back on the counter, walking about the room and getting some hand sanitizer from the dispenser. Your eyes are drawn to his hands immediately. When he clears his throat, you come to.

“Good afternoon, love. Y/N, correct? I see it says here you’ve only been to the gynecologist once before, and it was a female doctor,” you nod along to his words, watching him take a seat and hold eye contact with you. “Just wanted to let you know, you shouldn’t be worried. Just typical stuff today, alright?” You nod again, feeling smaller now. Even when he’s sat on his stool, he feels bigger than you.

“Gonna need your words, Y/N.” You can’t tell if he’s joking, even if you see the smirk on his face. Shifting in your seat, your gown ruffling below you, you manage a, “Yes, Doctor.” Through your dry mouth.

“Ah, almost forgot to introduce myself properly.” He laughs, but you swore you saw his eyes darken for a swift second. “I’m Doctor Healy, but you can call me Matty if you feel so inclined.” He grinned, and you felt like his words had a double meaning past the surface.

“You’re here for a routine checkup, I take it?” Moving over to the sink, pumping soap on his hands and running the water. “Lay back for me.” He instructed you as he washed, back turned. You listened without second thought, body going stiff.

You heard the tap turn off, Matty was drying his hands with paper towel now. He walked over to the table, standing above you and looking down. “If you don’t mind, can I ask you some questions before we begin?”

You began to nod, but remembered your reaction from earlier. Giving him another “Yes, Doctor.” he smiled easily. “Great… Now, are you sexually active?”

If you thought you were tense before, then you were like a board now. “Um, no.” You let your eyes flutter shut as you felt your skin heating, feeling terribly bare.

“Right, have you been? In the past?” was this a normal question to ask? Of course, they’d want to know of your bodily health. But of your… sexual activity as well? For you, though, there was nothing to report. Seeing as you were a virgin, which meant no sexual experiences other than yourself.

“Um, sorry, what are these questions for?” You couldn’t stop yourself from nervously laughing, your deflection of an answer hanging in the examination room.

Matty’s eyes dragged along your frame, going from your lips and then back to your eyes. You almost missed the beginning of his sentence when he spoke up. “All protocol, of course. It’s slightly awkward, but I’m obligated to ask. So?”

“So, no. I.. have not been in the past, or like, ever.” And you wanted to melt into the floor. Surely you would have to switch doctors after this again. Too embarrassing of a feat to face.

Another look and pause that goes on for much too long. Your stomach was starting to hurt. Well, maybe not hurt, but you needed to fix it and quick. When Matty claps and rubs his hands together, it snaps you out of it. “Interesting. Well, then, let’s begin.”

You noted that his pupils were huge behind the glasses, and his black slacks hugged his crotch very well. Did they look like that when he came in? You shifted again, trying to rub your thighs for some friction.

“Can I touch you?” His accented voice was deep and gravelly now. Leaving not much to the imagination of how this phrase might sound in a different situation coming from his mouth. His mouth, pink lips that he couldn’t stop licking, and slight stubble on his chin.

“Yes, Doctor Healy.” Your voice sounded submissive enough, and you almost yelped when his hand came down to grab your gown covered thigh. Roughly drawing circles with his thumbs into the spot. “Good girl. You’re tense.”

You shivered, eyes closing and opening again. The silence in the room felt so loud, and your doctor’s appointment was feeling a bit too erotic for what it was at this point. “I- I don’t know why I am.” Lie.

“Need you to relax for me, sweetheart.” His cold hands rub up and down your thighs. He’s making eye contact with you, causing you to cast your eyes to the ceiling. “Wanna put your legs in the stirrups?”

“Would that help, Doctor Healy?” You hear the sharp inhale of breath, followed by a cough. Trying not to lift your hips off the examination table from his constant skin to skin contact.

“It would, thank you.” He moves to grab your legs, setting them on the edge of the platform. His grip feels rougher than acceptable, fingertips leaving indents on your thighs. He reaches under your gown, looking at you for your nod and slipping your panties off. “May I start?”

“Yes, Doctor. Thank you.” And when you feel his fingers run down your slit, you don’t think it’s protocol. You were already embarrassingly wet from the interaction. As his hands move and brush your clit, you can’t hold back the moan. When you open your eyes, you’re met with Matty peering at you over his glasses, an amused smirk barely peeking through his expression.

“Oh, that’s no good, sweetheart.” He clicks his tongue, faux disapprovingly. His thumb comes back to press on your clit. “You’re so wet. What’s that from, huh?” He took his middle and ring finger, circling around your hole.

“It’s- You! You’re doing it, it’s your fault.” You cry out in pleasure and frustration. He was so condescending, but it felt so good. You know you needed to be more conscious of your volume, still being in a doctor’s office.

“My fault?” He almost gasped in surprise, “Oh, no. I don’t think so. I’m just trying to do my job, make sure everything’s okay down here.” Maneuvering his hand, he gave you two quick but firm taps on your clit with his middle and index finger. “Can you remove your gown for me?”

“Is this protocol, Doctor Healy?” You asked, half genuinely curious to see his answer. Moving to lift your bum, untying the gown from behind your back. Your legs were slightly shaking, and you saw his hand go to cover the smile that graced his mouth. You moved both your shoulders out of the arm holes, discarding the gown to the side. Leaving you in just your simple black bra, that had simple lace trimming.

“‘Course, making sure you’re in shape, and all.” His eyes dragged down your frame, stopping at your breasts. He was taking in your figure now, so you had the time to do the same. Your eyes immediately pulled to the now prominent bulge in his pants, and his fingers that seemed to twitch in anticipation.

“Do I appear to be in shape, then? Good for you?” Unbeknownst to you, what you had just said lit even more of a flame inside of Matty. You were asking him if you were good for him? He could show you what a good little slut he could make you.

He lets his hands rest between the apex of your thighs again, “Gonna spread you open a bit, okay? Think this’ll loosen you up for me.” Matty’s long fingers make their way to your cunt, running them up and down. He slides them down to your hole, collecting the wetness there and spreading it up to your clit.

His other hand came up to unclip your bra from behind your back. He did this expertly with one hand, leaving it to fall so he could grab at your breast. Palming at it for a while before pinching your nipple. You let out a whimper, and he gave you a soft slap on the side of your chest. He grabbed it roughly again, evening it out and applying more pressure to your clit as he did.

Your hand came to cover your mouth, not wanting to let your moans out. A soft, “Doctor,” fell from your lips, causing him to slip one finger inside of you. You couldn’t hold back, then. “Please, yes!”

Matty is running the tip his finger lightly along the inside of you, and it’s not enough. You begin to whine, but he cuts it off quickly. “Gotta relax or I won’t be able to run my tests. You don’t want that, do you?” His smirk is enough to make you want to slap it off him. Though, your whole body goes slack when he pushes his whole finger inside of you.

You’re moaning freely now, seeming to have forgotten that you’re still in a professional establishment. You were relentless, the pleasure he was giving you was too much in the best way. “Doctor- Matty. Please, need it.”

Matt’s pupils dilated, if it was possible for them to get larger. “Say my name again for me.” He groaned out, rocking his hips into the side of the table to relieve some tension. “Matty. Matty! Need you, please.” You obliged easily, drunken off the feeling. Matty pressed a second finger into your pussy.

“Poor thing. Never had anyone in this little hole before, huh? Perfect little cunt is so tight for me, were you saving yourself?” You think your reactions have gotten to his head, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. Your head was nodding in response to his words, eyes rolling back to your head.

You could feel pressure building in your stomach, the sound of his voice was getting to you. “Mhm. Doctor, think I’m gonna cum. Please, can I?” His hand sped up after hearing your words, thumb pressing on your clit. You could feel yourself dripping down your thighs, on to the protective cover of the exam table.

Your hips began to lift off the surface again, before Matty’s unoccupied hand came to press down on your abdomen again. “Feels that good, darling? Can’t even stay still for me.” You opened your eyes to look at him, gaze falling to how his hand lifted off of you and went to palm himself. “Come on, be my good little slut and cum for me.”

Ultimately, that was what did you in. You gasped loud enough for the whole office to hear, eyes clamping shut. You saw white behind your eyelids and your hips lifted freely off the table this time. Matty’s fingers coming out of you, rubbing your clit through your orgasm. You heard Matty moan in the back, making out a “fuck me, that’s good. You’re beautiful,” coming from his mouth.

As you came down from it, you opened your eyes to see him licking both of his fingers. “Taste sweet, gonna have to get my mouth on you next time.” He said nonchalantly, still looking down at your pussy. You tried to take your hands and put them in front of it, feeling shy all the sudden.

“Little late for that after I made you cum.” He giggled, going to get a towel from the cabinet above the sink. “Lemme clean you up.” You flustered but agreed in the end. When he came back with the towel, he leaned down to kiss you. You reciprocated easily, jumping when the towel came in contact with your skin.

“Thank you for.. that. For the appointment, Doctor.” You giggled, his head snapping up and eyes narrowing. You raised your hands in faux defence, the smile staying on your face. He smiled with you.

“Came so nicely for me, think I should be the one saying thanks.” He gave you another smirk, getting your panties from the side when they had been discarded. He tapped your thigh, signaling for you to put your legs through. Doing the same with your bra, he then helped you off the examination table.

“Seriously, you were really good. You know, for my first time.”

“Would barely call that a first time, I’ll give you that another time though.” He winked, turning around to look for your other clothes. Your jaw dropped, but you recollected yourself before he turned back to see.

“Right well. Thank you..” You said awkwardly, looking down at your feet. Where were you supposed to go from here? You just got fingered by your gynecologist in his public doctor’s office. You would have to reflect on this when you got home.

“Not an issue, really.” Matty sidestepped you to get to one of the cabinets behind you, slapping your ass as he did. Tease. He was being much too normal about this.

“I mean, what kind of doctor would I be if I left you unsatisfied with your appointment?”

[seungfl0wer]

hi ! could u pls do mtl in skz to date an older partner ?? tysm ^^

Ofc as someone who is older than all of them 😭 (only by a couple but still lol)

Most:

Seungmin

Han

Felix

Chan

Hyunjin

Changbin

Lee know

Jeongin

Least:

In my opinion I don’t think they’d mind to much (depending on the age gap) I feel like if they like someone then they like someone doesn’t matter if they’re older.

Most: Seungmin

No I did not put him there because he’s my bias and I’m older than him😂 the amount of “noona” stuff he has said and just how he acts in my opinion I feel like he’d love someone older. Someone who’s gonna take care of him. I feel since he is a younger member he’d be more inclined for someone around Chans age maybe?

Middle: Hyunjin

Mans does not care, he’ll love his partner either way. Your older? Cool. You’re younger? Cool. If yall click then you click simple as that.

Least: Jeongin

Do I think he’d be fine dating someone older? Yes. However he’s the middle child of his family, youngest out of Skz so I feel like maybe he’d want someone younger so he could take care of and so he’s not “the baby” anymore. If that makes sense.

I just wanna clarify again i genuinely don’t think any of them would mind someone older i think if yall click then that’s it. But I think however big the age gap is could decide too.

💙 If you’d like to read more of my stuff you can find it Here: Master List . Thank you for reading and if requests are open or you just wanna talk feel free to send me something🩵

[oldworldwidgets]

TEDDY TIME TEDDY TIME

howdy pardners this is theodore dawson, my courier from new vegas :3 he is very large and very angry yet very soft and very gay and he is so precious to me

here's his playlist!! once again it's chronological so u can listen to his story like a fun yeehaw jukebox musical. i think his is my favorite of all my character playlists

alllll the teddy stuff (appearance, stats, story before the canon events of the game, fun facts) can be found under the cut!!! if you feel so inclined to read The Long Version written like a story where my longwinded ass spends about 7k words talking about themes and character motivations (and some soft gay longing perhaps), it's up on ao3 here.

appearance

31 years old; birthday sept 25, 2250

6’6 with broad shoulders, generally built like a securitron.

patches of vitiligo splash across his face, chest, and arms

bennys bullet hit the right side of his face, carving a path from his eye to his ear, where a chunk of his ear is missing

because of this, he's blind in his right eye. the blind eye (a light, milky blue) is always a bit more closed than the seeing one (a dark, warm brown)

dark auburn chin-length hair and a short beard, both peppered with white because of his age and vitiligo. a big chunk of hair behind his ear is white as it grows from the scar.

he wears a horse or cow-skin vest with a great khans patch on the back

signature black cowboy hat, either on the top of his head or tied around his neck so it hangs down his back

gold jewelry - dangly cross earring in his left ear, upside down cross on a leather strap around his neck, big ass belt buckle

bright red shotgun shells on leather belt slung around his waist for his shotgun, dinner dell

stats

SPECIAL: 8, 1, 4, 5, 9, 2, 10

favorite perks: confirmed bachelor, animal friend, ferocious loyalty, intimidating presence

story

his dad was raised in utah and was very strictly mormon. when new jerusalem collapsed, dad moved himself, his wife, and his first son to the mojave and found work on an NCR sharecropper farm.

teddy was born fifth of six kids: four older brothers and one younger sister. he, his sister hannah, and his brother noah all have very visible vitiligo.

the kids were all also raised strictly mormon. his whole childhood, they were very poor. "at least we have each other" poor. his dad blamed it on the NCR, who owned the house and land and animals they ranched. they owned nothing, and the NCR paid them little more than that. teddy was quickly disillusioned with the NCR, then with the three of his brothers who decided to join them. one brother stayed back to inherit the ranch.

turns out, the NCR was paying; dad was just gambling it all away. he was so deeply in debt to all the families on the strip that they all decided to cut their losses and burn his farm to the ground.

that's... that's the story teddy decided to tell hannah, anyway (he wouldnt tell u this but he totally burnt that shit down on purpose). mom, dad, and one of his brothers were lost in the fire. teddy and hannah made it out, waved goodbye, parted ways.

teddy took his horse, old red, and began running jobs for whoever needed them. he never tied himself to one organization aaand his jobs weren't always above the ethical board. really, it was luck of the draw that, on any given day, he was the one defending the caravan instead of stealing from it

when he eventually went searching for his siblings, he found that two of the three brothers that had enlisted, predictably, were killed on duty. noah, though, had absconded almost immediately upon arrival due to a nasty chem habit

he found hannah "working" in front of gomorrah on the stip - her vitiligo made them instantly recognizable to each other - but she pretended not to know him because she was ashamed. he understood and gave up, but not before she hinted that he could find noah at the old mormon fort

he did, in fact, find noah there, medically detoxing under the care of some hot, blonde doctor (bweheheh....). they reconnected and it was..... really nice, even when they talked about how ashamed their dad would be if he could see them. it didnt matter. the family disappointments were the only family survivors.

teddy and arcade quickly grew very fond of each other, with arcade even being the first one to call him "teddy" after he told the doctor his name was theodore. he decided, despite its cutesy nature, to keep it.

after finishing his open jobs, teddy decided to stay with noah at the fort and run jobs for the followers when they needed it. he got reeeal comfy with arcade, and their subtle, playful flirtations eventually became noticeable to others. his brother, angry and sick from chem withdrawal and still fighting his religious upbringing, could not handle finding out that his baby brother was gay. when he did, he angrily shouted slurs and threw bottles at them until he was sedated and returned to bed.

teddy left the fort that night while everyone but the night watchman slept. he struggled to recover from what happened and drifted listlessly for a while... until he heard the news that noah had fled from his "rehab" program in the fort the day after teddy left, overdosed, and died.

the news spurred something in him, and he went looking for a real family and place to call home. after excelling in his initiation trials, he found one with the great khans. for two years, he was their resident rancher, runner, therapist, you name it.

then: 2278. the bitter springs massacre. teddy was away when it happened, and he still hasnt forgiven himself for it.

he spent the next three years drifting - again. hunting NCR. somehow racking up bounties in seemingly every single tribe in the mojave. his infamy, believe it or not, helped him survive: when he came across those who would kill him or turn him in, they seemed to prioritize who got to turn him in and collect the bounty over keeping themselves alive. whoops!

it was exhausting, though. drifting, killing, taking on the wasteland completely alone (except his beloved animals) took a heavy toll on teddy. he'd always been a killer and an outlaw, but he'd always been paid to clear other people's consciences. now, he felt he was only killing people to run from the consequences of his own actions. it was exhausting.

so, when three strangers – one in a loud, black-and-white checkered blazer – tried to knock him out and bind his hands, well… he had no reason not to let them.

*aint that a kick in the head starts blaring*

fun facts

hes not a big chem guy but hes such an alcoholic. in game he keeps at least 10 whiskeys on him at all times but would prefer to drink a sarsaparilla over using a stimpak.

he needs glasses pretty badly for his one seeing eye but he’s too stubborn to wear them

his scars always look a bit irritated because he doesnt take care of himself

he was a big pistol guy before benny shot him, but after he went blind in his aiming eye and started suffering from bouts of dizziness, he became a shotgunner. they require a far-from-perfect style of aiming

[tangledinink]

ghghhh srry to clog up your askbox i just have a couple reference questions for swn (little tidbits i'd like for scotch gambit):

how often does each of the boys' extracurriculars meet? or just like a general idea of their schedules. how many commitments per day, how often they get actual Days Off, etcetera; u can be as vague or as detailed as u want here

this one's just for funsies: do mikey and donnie's therapists have canonical names

thank you :] im sososo glad u liked my silly chess fic

Oh, just the vague idea is that they're BUSY. Most of them have multiple commitments per day, depending on the season (ie swim and basketball season during winter VS no school in the summer.) It varies depending on which boy you're lookin' at, but most of them have things to do most, if not all, days of the week, and they like it that way. They've also just kinda been doing this their whole lives (due to always having so much gd energy and always wanting to do every thin g,) so it feels normal to them. Doing multiple things in a day and being busy from, like, 7AM to 9PM (with some breaks in between!) would typically feel reasonable and manageable to all of them. There are certainly days that are LESS busy but they tend to live chaotic lives overall.

Please note that all of them are free to quit any extracurriculars at any time, which their Dad has always been vocal abt because he DOES worry about them getting burnt out, and they have dropped things in the past (Leo used to take piano lessons! Donnie did debate team for a while!) but they all really like all the activities they currently do and luckily they all have stupid mutant super soldier genes behind them to take it all on. Donnie probably attends to least, like, practices and meetings and engages in the least structured/social activities, but he arguably does the MOST when you take into account how much solo time he puts into all his various hobbies, be it engineering or coding or dance or gymnastics. Mikey is probably also slightly more on that side of the spectrum, just due to the nature of a lot of his hobbies (ie art, cooking, skateboard, etc.) Leo and Raph are both a lot more inclined towards things like team sports or social activities, with Raph arguably being the most 'social' of the bunch in this regard since he not only teaches children, not only engages in multiple team sports, but also LEADS multiple team sports (captain of the football team, babey, AND the basketball team, AND the swim team--) but Leo is the one who craves "being busy" the most, I think. Other kids and parents watch on in awe and horror.

Also, they sure do!!! Mikey's therapist is named Catherine Neopolitan. Donnie's therapist is named Mossy, but I haven't given her a last name yet;;;

THANK YOU I LOVE YOUR CHESS FIC <;3 friendly reminder to everyone who hasn't already to go read this Sorry What Now side-fic that Letter wrote!!!

[earlgreytea68]

How do i get better at writing, if ur willing to- do u have any tips or tricks?

I think everyone has their own writing tips or tricks and so what works for me might not work for you, and you should definitely experiment and figure out what you like or don't like, but here are some tips/tricks I swear by personally:

Write what you want to write. Unless you're being paid to write something, there's no reason to write something you don't want to write. So write whatever you want. Let it be as self-indulgent as possible. If you are enjoying it, it will come across in your writing, and then your readers will enjoy. They will feel your love for what you're doing and they will be inclined to regard it with similar affection. I only ever write what I want to read in the world. In fact, usually my fics start with me having an idea and being like, "Argh, has no one else done this yet?! If I want to read it, do I have to write it myself????"

Think about the writers you admire most. Whenever I read something written by someone I think is really good, I try to figure out why I think it's so good. What is it that I admire so much? Sometimes it's something I feel like I will never be able to achieve, but sometimes thinking about it makes me realize I could do it, too. Or at least try. The difference in my writing before and after I discovered The West Wing is so striking, I will forever be grateful I found Aaron Sorkin and he taught me how to write rapid-fire dialogue as well as those grand, big, emotional speeches that no one ever delivers in real life but he does SO well. I devoured everything I could find that Aaron Sorkin had ever written, and I didn't do it to consciously mimic him, but inevitably I started to sound a little more like him, mostly because I'd begun to realize what he'd been doing so effectively. I do the same thing with anything else I read that I love (mainly pieces of fanfiction these days). Like, if I'm impressed by a particular scene or plot or whatever, I take note of what that writer did that I loved about it so much.

But also: be you. You learn from other people, but you don't need to reinvent YOURSELF. I think working hard to be someone else will just exhaust you and not be fun for you. I don't think of writing as being super-different from talking. Slightly more polished, but however I would tell you the story in person, that's how I want to tell the story in type. If you feel comfortable talking and uncomfortable in front of a keyboard, maybe do some dictation to open yourself up. That doesn't personally work for me, but I could definitely see it working for some people.

Don't skip writing the boring parts to get to the good parts. Better: Don't write any boring parts lol. Like, if you're too bored to write the bit, then your readers will probably be too bored to read the bit. If the bit's so boring you want to skip it, maybe you don't even need it.

Be wary of cutting to black too much, or too soon. A lot of times it can be really tempting to just write something like "They talked all night," or "Over the next few months, they grew closer." Whenever I find myself writing something like that, I pause and think about it. Sometimes, that really is what the story needs: You can't write down every single thing the characters do, of course. But sometimes what you're skipping over is actually where the meat of your story lives, if you're telling a love story. What they talked about all night, or over the next few months, is what makes your readers (and you!!) believe in them as a couple. Like, I find myself writing those moments instead of letting myself skip over them because I'm looking for the part where they click for me -- and then I'll know that they clicked for each other. A good example of this is in "Next Christmas," when I threw in all those text conversations between Pete and Patrick. I skipped those months in the narrative, but I felt it was extremely important for all of us to see how much they interacted over those months. I could have just said "They'd been texting constantly for the past six months," but I personally think it was more effective to write out the texts. Maybe you disagree! Like I said, everyone writes differently! But I point it out just on the off-chance that you might not have thought about why I spent the time to write all those text conversations. I thought they made a difference to the story, so I put them in. They also made a difference to me. I like it when I can pick up inside jokes for the characters to have with each other lol. Another thing in "Next Christmas" was I needed Pete to talk about something, rather than put in a fade to black, and I'd just learned about opossum genitalia, so I had him say that, and then look at how much in the story came off of that. SO MUCH. And that was only in there because I felt like Pete needed to keep talking but I had no idea what to have him say so I just picked something random.

Just write. The only way I know how to write is to write. I never outline. Or not the way other people seem to. I know some people would never, ever write by the seat of their pants, which is why all writing rules are only suggestions, and if that thought terrifies you, don't do it. But I tend to believe that outlining becomes procrastination for me. Same with research. I'm doing it to delay writing. It's never a good thing for me to do. Just write. Even when I don't feel like writing, I try to make myself write just a few sentences. Sometimes it's just not coming that day, and I'll give up, but I always try, because sometimes once you start, the continuing is much easier.

Keep writing. I am a much better writer today than I was ten years ago, and an incredibly better writer than I was twenty years ago. The more you write, the more tricks you learn, the more you grow to understand your brain and your process, the more you can lean into it.

Trust your characters. I'm not great at plotting (or outlining), because for me I just go where the characters want to go. If I'm having a really hard time writing something, it's probably because I'm fighting against what the characters want to do. That's just an unpleasant way to write, I think. Let them do what they want, even if it's different than what you have planned. I just have this theory that being true to the characters will in the end serve your story better than whatever plot you want to jam them into. Of course, they might fit perfectly well within your plot! Cool! But sometimes, you've gotta give up on the idea you were in love with because a better idea has come along. Another example from "Next Christmas": I truly did not know if they were going to break up that Christmas they got together or not until the scene was written. I could see it going either way, and making sense both ways. My natural instinct once characters get together is to let them stay together, and I always worry that I will therefore put characters together too soon (what I did wrong with the dystopia, too). So what I did was start writing the scene where Patrick shows up freaking out to see what he would say and what Pete would do. And when it was done, they were broken up. And I think that was right. I don't think it was contrived, I think if I'd done what I wanted to do and let them stay together, Patrick never would have trusted what had happened and eventually it would have ruined them and it wouldn't have been as satisfying a story because that would have been looming over them.

Read your work over, not just for typos. If there's any moment you hit where you find yourself a little confused as to how it reads, fix it. If you're confused over something that came out of your head, your readers definitely will be. Also, as you read it over, think about the pacing of your story. If some emotional thing has just happened that you really want to make sure your readers notice and absorb and relish, something that you love and want to highlight, add in some character reaction, to let the moment breathe more and not move on too fast.

Finally: Have a good time! I do not believe that writing should be emotional torment through which you perform therapy on yourself or other people. If that's what you want, cool! But if you just want to have a good time, then please, have a good time.

[kil9]

reasons to watch each of the taemin concerts:

hi its me, the self-appointed taemin concert expert :) i think we're all missing him a lot rn so its the perfect time to watch all his concerts >:) here's what i think are the strengths of what i consider his 4 quintessential concerts !!!! come join my world >:)

off-sick:

[DL link]

- his first korean concert ! he debuted most of the tracklist for the "move" album there (which is a phenomenal album)

- also performed "move" itself for the first time here !!! the energy of it is insane

- live band [!!!!] as the backing instruments for at least half of, if not most of the concert, gives a different feel to songs youve already heard :)

- because of that theres a lot of rearrangements, & his romeo + juliette solo version which is so beautiful

- (biggest selling point is the live band tbh but its so so good ^^^^)

- also the best door performance is the offsick one (yeah, the bondage one)

- the mystery lover vcr !!! (his indie horror movie) and a very cool dance vcr

- overall very fun & extremely energetic feel with a classic taemin edge !!

- this concert was such a big hit irl that he had to do it again in a bigger venue lol (his one and only public apology, not enough people got to see this concert)

Sirius:

[DL//watch link (eng subs)]

- a concert with a story !!! theres a LOT of overarching themes and storytelling in this, even the vcrs are mostly continuous :) !

- some very very beautiful expressive performances

- THE DOOR PERFORMANCE [!!!!!] its completely different from the usual tied-up door, but in a way that lends itself to the story very very well (i will never shut up about it)

- overall feels very musical-esque ? theatrical ? besides the vcrs, even the performances themselves seem to continue from each other in a sort of plot arch :) (if you care to read that much into it which, you should)

- very cool use of the background screens, feels more integral to the performances, rather than just something as a backdrop. the set design is super cool in general !!

- overall elegant and theatrical feel !! a lot of emotion in this. i go insane over sirius lore once per month

- space wolfs [!!!!]

t1001101:

(also known as "TMI concert") [DL link]//[watch link (eng subs)]

- a "little prince" themed concert with some of my favorite costumes and visuals out of any of them (i own the photo book :] )

- THE INCLINE !!!! a large portion of the stage is inclined and incorporated into the dance in very very cool ways

- ^^^ the incline !!!!! (emphasis) its very cool and steep, a lot of time he's on it he has to be held with a bungee, but since hes taemin, uses it to make the dance even cooler :)

- he debuted "identity" and "heaven" here (before they were full versions u know today) !!!!! the identity opening is one of the coolest things ive seen, he has so much power

- the very concert that gave us "taemins media bible" & songs transitioning into each other a lot (plus a taemin+shinee mashup)

- stone heart and back to you VCRs !!!!!! basically bonus music videos :) stone heart got the mv it deserves considering its the best song of all time :)

- overall cool cool cool feeling, prettyboy taemin strikes again, the feeling of a taemin music video, but 2 hours long

- the first taemin concert i watched :) my recommendation for newer or more casual fans

X™:

[DL link]//[watch link]

- his most recent in person concert, extremely good and epic !!

- i've seen this so so many times, also amazing costumes and visuals, so much power, he's truly living up to being called "king"

- there isnt really a gimmick but it has some of the most solid taemin performances ive seen (eclipse lives forever in my heart <3 most underrated performance) & a generally amazing setlist

- the famous album came out during this tour so a few songs from famous were debuted here :) !!!

- specific shoutout to the slave performance.... yknow

- the lighting and camerawork is so amazing !!!!!!! seriously, i can not sing the crew's praises enough they deserve a raise

- they surprised him with an end of tour video it was really sweet :(

- "FLOW" & "CRYONICS" vcrs !!!! are so crazy... i still dont understand the lore but they fuck

- overall very solid and powerful feeling, taemin simply showing off what he does best !!!!

in summary: i can not stress enough how experiencing a taemin concert in full is very different from seeing the same performances isolated. him and the crew clearly give so much thought into them, the sequencing, the continuity, the set and costume design, lighting.... the secret lore thats going on maybe sometimes ??? i really think they deserve more appreciation (even if they get a lot lol, never enough !!!) so... yeah :) bye

[trollex-is-gay]

Completely forgot to follow up to this post but HERE WE GO !!!

Also buckle up this post is long bc if there's one thing I will not do it is make brief post. Also I have a lot of opinions on this.

First off I have to put the one that's been on my mind the most: I think Velvet and Veneer would get on great with Electra but specifically two different versions of him. Velvet would vibe with pre-2018 rehaul Electra and Veneer would lean closer to post-2018 rehaul Electra. Both versions are major huffy puffy rich divas who don't like things not going their way, but post-2018 holds a slightly more mellow tone to him while still being just as much of an antag as his colorful counterpart, which I thing matches Velvet and Veneer pretty well. Idk if anyone else has noticed but Velvet has brighter and more saturated eyeshadow than Veneer in their final fits, at least it looks that way to me. Pictures for reference it makes more sense this way:

Second I have to mention one that's stuck to me hardcore and that's Poppy and Pearl but SPECIFICALLY post-2018 Pearl. Any possible starlight express fans seeing this post might think pre-2018 would be more sensible bc they're both pink but the thing is they have major personality contrasts. I think that post-2018 Pearl would get on better with Poppy because she has a younger and more peppier feel to her than her counterpart does, what she lacks in color she makes up for in being So Incredibly Confused all the time and honestly she just radiates Poppy to me far more than pre-2018, so yeah I think post-2018 Pearl would be good friends with Poppy. Hell great friends even. Though I ALSO think that Poppy would get along great with Rusty because he's a very excitable character and he has the EXACT determination and drive to succeed that Poppy has, the biggest difference between them though is that Rusty is a lot quicker to give up, he's got support but where Poppy has an entire kingdom at her back Rusty only had a handful of people and only two of them were complete steady support (I'm not knocking the Rockies bc their advice to him was genuine but hey read the room he knows the system sucks). Though on that note I think Rusty could get along good with Branch too, probably a tad bit closer with Poppy but they'd both be his pals in my eyes.

Poppy how come u get two cool train friends who happen to be a couple!!

Next up, I really do believe that both Greaseball and Flat-Top would get along with ALL of the rock trolls. But like specifically the rock trolls. Genuinely. Flat-Top would be more receptive to all of them while Greaseball would be less inclined to get personal with a lot of them and would chill better with the more titular guys like Barb. Flat-Top is just generally very punk and wild while Greaseball is very self-confident. I don't know how well Val and Flats would get on but I do believe he and Riff might get long better than he would any of the others. Greaseball would however get along best with Barb and mostly tolerate the others, maybe he'd enjoy Demo's company, but DEFINITELY not Blaze Powerchord. GB and Electra's rivalry is canon proof that diesel CANNOT STAND people as overconfident as he is.

^^^ pictured Barb and GB being silly because Greaseball's a self-absorbed dude and Barb is aggressive but what they have in common is they're actually goobers and few people truly see this. This is also part of why I think they'd be friends.

SAME PICTURE. Flat-Top is the brick truck on the left btw.

Anyway that's all I have for now it's like almost 11:50pm but I hope you see my vision and I hope I can convince people of each fandom to take a peek at the other bc as a trolls and starlight express fan I think these fandoms should have way more overlap, they're both goofy silly pieces of media that get looked down upon by the people outside of them for being fun and whimsical. Solidarity and all that.

[anthrofreshtodeath]

#12 for the fic ask! (also #14 if u feel so inclined 😄)

Thank you for your ask! Appreciate you!

12) What is my favorite trope to write and why?

I really like fake dating and friends-to-lovers. Something about realizing there's something different going on, something different than friendship or partnership, I think. I like when I can make characters realize they've been reading things wrong. Fake dating is also very messy and I am know to love the mess haha.

14) Share a snippet - oooh, let's do one from P FKN R. I'm liking how it's going.

Jane closed her eyes to savor the tug of Tatiana Martinez’s teeth on her lower lip. Quickly, control spiraled, and her heart hammered. Her fingers trembled when they curled around Tatiana’s waist, and her back sweated when Tatiana put a hand flat on it. They kissed, lips on lips, tongue tangling with tongue, until Jane felt that hand move to her chest. “Jesus,” she whispered, more a feeling against Tatiana’s mouth than a sound in her ear.

“Just Tati is fine,” Tatiana teased when she pulled back. “I haven’t seen you in…”

“Five years? Five long-ass years,” Jane finished, just before lunging in for another kiss. The atmosphere of the steamy, rapidly-filling bar pressed in around them, cocooning them in with each other. 

Tatiana laughed when Jane found her again. “Stop for a second,” she said. “I’d like to think we have all night.”

“Do we?” Jane asked, eyes somehow darker and all alight at the same time.

“Don’t we? Do you have somebody to go home to?” Tatiana asked back. “You didn’t mention anyone.”

Jane shakes her head. “Nah. Not really,” she replied. “There’s a guy overseas… army. But we’re not serious. I think I might have already dumped him.”

Tatiana laughed, mouth open and a hand on Jane’s chest. “You think? You always were so messy when it came to love, papi,” she said, her accusation light, playful. When her fingers hit leather, she scrutinized Jane more directly: jeans, boots - possibly from work, a v-neck tee, and a jacket. She narrowed her perfectly threaded eyebrows. She shook her head.

Jane frowned, checked herself out. “What, I don’t look good?”

“I didn’t say that,” Tatiana replied. “You just look like you’re meeting my brother. What happened to the Jane that used to take me out? What happened to my Jane?” She was remembering Jane in silk shirts, with loud tropical prints, in dark skinny jeans, in exposed ribbed undershirts, catholic pendants around her neck, bathed in perfume. Reckless Jane - Jane chasing promotions and chasing Tatiana’s naked form all over the bed.

Jane remembered herself at that age, too. “To be fair, I had no idea you’d be here,” she said, blushing, her lips practically hanging off of Tatiana’s ear. The scent of Tati’s hair, of coconut shampoo and fruity styling products, set a symphony off against her ribcage. Knock knock knock knock. Memories of debauchery and athleticism tickled her brain before releasing in a deluge.

“Hmm,” Tatiana hummed when Jane gave into temptation and ran the tip of her tongue over the side of Tatiana’s neck. “It’s because I never know if I am gonna be here. That would be better with a shot and a little salt, you know,” she said, stepping confidently into the affection.  

“Jane!” Maura called over the music, with the tray serendipitously in her hand and Frankie right behind.

Jane jerked upright, as if just having remembered that she didn’t come to the club alone, or at least hadn’t planned to be there alone. “H-hey!” she shouted, catching sight of Maura. The visual was calming; it pulled her spirit back into her shoes when it had threatened to float above the crowd and out into the summer night. 

Tatiana, ever the extrovert, helped Maura take the tray to the small standing-room table close by. “You have excellent timing,” she said to Maura while Jane and Frankie followed along. “We were just talking about how we needed some shots! Jane, Frankie, who is this beautiful woman?”

Jane cleared her throat and tried not to use what little Spanish she had to decipher the salacious lyrics pounding into the room around them while she stared at Tatiana’s ass in that tight skirt. And then there was Maura’s tight skirt, ass and all, and…

She needed to get ahold of herself.

“This is uh, this is Dr. Maura Isles,” she said, coming up behind Tatiana, hand on her waist. “She’s the Chief Medical Examiner of the Commonwealth, and she’s my best friend.” Jane smirked at that last part, a smirk reserved only for Maura, which Maura was happy to see preserved considering Jane was behind Tatiana and therefore hidden from Tatiana’s view. Maura smiled back just before her lips closed around the lip of her beer. 

Jane gulped. “Shit. Before we do shots, I gotta get me one of those,” she said, squeezing her way through bodies as more started to hit the floor. Maura watched her rub her entire front on Tatiana’s entire back and suddenly had the urge to tell Jane there was no more waiting. Shot time was now. 

But then, Jane put a hand on Maura’s forearm and leaned close. “Wait for me, yeah?” she said into the hair at Maura’s temple, the only way to be heard now that the music had been pumped up. “I’ll be right back.”

Maura nodded dumbly. “Sure,” she said, once Jane had already left.

“Dr. Isles!” Tatiana shouted. Her voice sounded muffled and far away, but Maura still turned toward her. Again, stunning. Close up, Maura noticed all the ways that Tatiana and Rafael looked alike: eyes set the same distance apart and burning with intelligence, full and glossy lips, the same broad and beautiful nose. Tatiana deviated from her brother in the womanliest of ways, however, with the curve of her hips and the kind of ass Maura had begged the universe for in high school. She thought she’d gotten quite a good return on her investment, but… Tatiana had her beat in both shape and bounce. Maura only had the tiniest bit of a hard time admitting it. Apparently, she had been lost in thoughts of Tatiana’s good looks so long that she’d missed her name, because it came again. “Dr. Isles!” Tatiana repeated. “I looked you up when my brother said he was working with you!” she yelled across the cadence of drums and guitars that she swayed to. 

“Oh, you did?” Was all that Maura could think to shout back, feeling bold with her beer and putting a hand on the silk of Tatiana’s shirt, right above her wrist.

“I did! Youngest person ever to be Chief M.E.! I gotta say, that’s impressive!” replied Tatiana. Maura’s brain analyzed all aspects of her with impressive speed, trying to dissect all the things that might make Jane as wrapped up in Tatiana as she clearly was. Interestingly, her Spanish accent, slight, sounded different than Rafael’s, and Maura couldn’t quite place it. Mexico? Guatemala? Distinctly American-born.

She didn’t get the chance for further study because Jane slithered against her before moving past. “Hey, I got us a round,” said Jane, carrying four beers, two in each hand. “Seemed like a good idea.”

Jane’s deep voice, loud like Tatiana’s but not feminine like hers, carried notes of the North End and its own very specific Sicilian-American leftovers. Maura gulped, chugging the rest of her beer so she could take the next bottle from Jane. “Thank you!” she raised the empty one to Tatiana in response to her previous comment, and then, more quietly, she wrapped her fingers around Jane’s around the base of the amber bottle. “And thank you,” she said, in her normal volume, relying more on the hooding of her eyes to convey her words to Jane.

Jane, already on her way to Tatiana, stopped for a moment. “Y-yeah, you’re welcome,” she said, with that Maura-specific smile one more time.

[irrealisms]

1 for the ask game, for every fandom in your tumblr about...!

the character everyone gets wrong

tolkien: tough one. honestly, i feel like due to the nature of the fandom most people have defensible readings of most characters, even if they're not my own? to the extent tht people get characters wrong it's mostly by not thinking abt them very much! I'm inclined to pick Galadriel, though, bc she's also in LotR and so you get LotR fans thinking they can speak to first or second age galadriel, and then u get silm fans overcorrecting and ignoring third age galadriel entirely, and ofc there's the various Sexist Archetypes she gets shoved into by virtue of Being A Woman. actually a Lot of the women in tolkien are characters ppl get wrong a lot. elwing! míriel! indis! idril! lúthien! niënor! haleth! And So On Forever And Ever. this is again mostly due to Simply Not Thinking About Them Very Much tho

wktd: tbh the fandom gets the wktd girls pretty solidly. no real notes here. benefits from being a small fandom for a game with Three characters all of whose issues are pretty spelled out for you & constitute the central plot.

glowfic: im gonna be honest i do not feel confident to speak for other ppl's characters and state what ppl get right/wrong..! like idk man maybe im the one getting them wrong. ppl mostly dont like... write fic or make headcanons for each others glowfic in a way where the author isnt involved in having opinions about it? so if someone was mischaracterizing a glowfic character idk how i would know rly

hannibal: all of them @_@ no one understands this show like i do and it's a perpetual frustration... im gonna throw out abigail as my answer tho bc she sooooo often gets reduced to like, part of the murder family, which ignores soooooo much of her storyline and how much she did not (uncomplicatedly) want that. her relationship with will is So So Complicated but ultimately she likes freddie more than she likes will in some ways! and at least back when i was in the fandom ... ppl dont get that or just treat it as like, a flaw or misunderstanding to be corrected.

tma: ooooo this is a tough one. honestly the fandom was big enough that it's hard for me to say No One in the fandom got characters & in a lot of cases there was the question of like, does the fandom not understand X or do i just not seek out very many fics abt X... e.g. i havent read any tma fic that got georgie very well but also i havent read any georgie-centric tma fic! kind of a skill issue on My part rly!

mcelroy + polygon content: oh this is a trip down memory lane. everyone writes taako very few people write taako well. i'm not a taako fan and instead had Cares About Less Popular Characters disease but i did feel for taako enjoyers for this. i didnt really read polygon rpf so i can't speak to that side of things.

poetry and short stories: i don't think there are rly characters Everyone In The Fandom gets wrong for this tbh. like thats just not rly a coherent thing

the untamed/mdzs: SONG LAN...... i am not even a big song lan fan im a xuexiao stan first and foremost. but good lord. man has like 2 character traits and the ppl writing fic for him cant even remember those! also lwj but with the disclaimer that i have a very specific read of novel!lwj that just doesnt rly apply to untamed!lwj. which most people are writing for. i guess this is also true of song lan but i have more of a sense of "if you care a lot about song lan you should do your due diligence in hunting for scraps of characterization" whereas caring about untamed!lwj and not reading the book is like. yeah okay fair enough. to me.

tgcf: ooooh. hard one. my immediate instinct is mu qing bc i follow the tag and have to read way too much mu qing slander but i have in fact read good mu qing fic.... might stand by that anyway tho. the tgcf tag is like 50% mu qing slander by volume and it makes me sad. mu qing get behind me bby i'll protect u ;-;

dream SMP: hahaha. ha. what character DOESN'T dsmp fandom get wrong. it gets tommy wrong it gets techno wrong it gets phil wrong it gets puffy and niki and hannah wrong it gets dream wrong it gets purpled wrong it gets quackity wrong it gets sam wrong it gets schlatt wrong it gets karl wrong it gets george wrong it gets wilbur wrong it gets LITERALLY EVERYONE wrong. constantly. the only times it doesn't get someone wrong is when it's forgotten that they exist at all (this is about the eggpire but it's also about eryn and fundy and jack manifold and i'm sure many many others i'm not currently remembering). im giving the prize for Getting It Wrong to phil, though. i don't even LIKE phil. but everyone who writes him gets him wrong. they are just writing Generic Bad Dad or Generic Good Dad. he's got traits! i promise!

ok actually since this one's my current special interest i'll go a bit more in depth. tommy's rude & annoying & a fighter, he very very rarely has the sort of fawn response ppl write. techno is funny but he's got emotions and he is usually acting based on those emotions; if you're writing him in s1 he's less based than you think and if you're writing him in s3 he's more based than you think. phil has traits other than being a dad and also if you can't accurately identify which characters he is and is not a dad to then you don't get to write him. puffy, niki, and hannah all have traits other than being women; no, "therapist", "girlboss", and "mom friend" don't count. purpled is not particularly a Manipulated Minor TM, he's an amoral mercenary, he's kinda fucked up by isolation but he's more like punz than he is like tommy or tubbo. none of quackity, sam, and dream are one-dimensional characters whose only trait is Sadistic Abuser but also if you write them without acknowledging that they're sadistic abusers (with the exception of writing about early dsmp/before The Horrors) then you're doing it wrong. same goes for schlatt but with the addition of "he should not under literally any circumstances talk like he's got a tumblr". karl's more of a bitch than that. so's george. wilbur is more of an asshole and less of a creep than that. i could go on literally forever the dsmp fandom gets every single character wrong & it is my burden to be right about all of them u_u

(choose violence ask game)

[sekaiichis]

Do you have any fanfic recs?

Since I assume that you're asking for recommendations for Takaritsu fics that's what this list is going to consist of, hope that's what you meant lol. Odds are if you're asking you've already peeked around plenty of these fics and authors before because of the sheer word count they've put out for this pairing but I don't see the harm in getting out the word to more people LOL. Putting my rambling under the cut in case it gets long idk how much i’ll actually write yet.

My first inclination is to point you in the direction of @literally-ritsu and @misscorn's content, their content can be found on Ao3 and Fanfiction respectively at the hyperlinks above. That’s already 35 stories overall between the two of them, and they’re both still around adding more to their current stories and working on even more for future reading! I’ve always appreciated their characterization of the SiH cast bc for me at least that can be something that majorly turns me away from reading some fics. And if you read one story and like it, with them there’s plenty to go through!

This next one I may be a bit biased to since I run @takaritsuweek every year, but I go back to it a ton so I feel like I have to drop it here too! Cherishing You was a series of stories based off of prompts from 2020′s event. It’s by @saysaeri! She also has plenty of other Takaritsu fics to go through if you take a liking to her writing! Little Hearts is another one of her fics that I think about often.

All of the above were all fairly recent in the scheme of things when you consider how far back these fandoms go, but I’ll round out this list with something older! I remember reading through this series for the first time years ago, I stayed up way too late but didn’t regret it at all lol. The Silence is Thy Friend series is definitely an old favorite of mine. It has four separate one shots that total just about 50k words, so you can definitely take up an entire afternoon reading through all of them. I so badly wish there was a fifth entry to it, but considering how long it’s been I won’t hold my breath lol. ppl write fanfic for fun and for free after all, so we should be thanking ppl for letting us read their work 🥺

anyways i hope you haven’t already read all of those already, thank u for the ask :^)

[teamsasukes]

hii! i stumbled across your blog and really love it. you are i think the only person on the internet who is Correct about naruto i find myself agreeing with everything you have said on this silly site (you could say that, i rb a lot of shit from u) but i came here to ask how do you actually deal with the wrongness of people? i really want to mind my business and let them be completely blind but i just can’t, i’m a contrarian at my core. but i realise it’s pointless, the naruto fandom has (and i’m including even naruto fans who are not on the internet) hallucinations about a lot of things that never happened (or the contrary) and i just don’t get it. how do you deal with it?

[i hope it’s coherent enough i’m bothered by that one guy who commented on a post saying that naruto did more for sasuke than sakura ever did she just cries and summon naruto. i admit it these things go under my skin]

anyway have a nice day <3

hey omg thank you so much!! i pride myself on having 100% correct opinions on naruto😌

jokes aside though, yeah the naruto fandom has been around for so long that i sometimes feel it's gotten to the point where widespread fandom jokes supersede canon. i only got into naruto about a year ago so it was really jarring to see that fandom perceptions on certain characters and pairings were often wayyy different than what i'd read on the page. and frankly naruto's writing is a little messy, particularly towards the end, so i can't say that my interpretation is entirely faithful to the text either. i'm just here to vibe

i totally understand the inclination to oppose every bad take but also i think naruto is popular enough that you can find at least a handful of people who mostly share the same perspective on it as you. it can take a while to curate your online space but remaining in that sphere of people has made my experience in the fandom a lot more enjoyable!! that's not to say that you can't engage in any discourse or whatever, though i feel like there needs to be a certain amount of common ground for any meaningful discussion to occur. any time i do want to address something controversial i just do it on my own blog. but yeah, that's what's worked for me!

i hope you have a good one <3

[aether-friskets]

I posted 668 times in 2022

That's 668 more posts than 2021!

203 posts created (30%)

465 posts reblogged (70%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@ap0stle

@heather-garland

@carlyraejepsans

@friskibitz

@aether-friskets

I tagged 653 of my posts in 2022

Only 2% of my posts had no tags

#fanart - 209 posts

#op's art - 188 posts

#silent hill - 149 posts

#rambles - 134 posts

#undertale - 128 posts

#heather mason - 110 posts

#silent hill 3 - 109 posts

#safeutdr - 105 posts

#silent hill fanart - 99 posts

#frisk - 91 posts

Longest Tag: 137 characters

#and honestly? op's suggestion of him having been a member of the order is way more interesting to me than just 'otherworld manifestation'

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

not the most extravagant piece I've ever made for something like this but. Here's a little drawing I made for Undertale's anniversary!! Like I said I would!

It would've been nice to get a piece with more of the characters but alas

Also I feel like Chara could be better but I always have trouble drawing them quite right >:|

Anyway uhhhh yeah!!

23 notes - Posted September 15, 2022

#4

See the full post

31 notes - Posted August 2, 2022

#3

so I recall this line in outlast 2 when you end up in St. Sybil one of the first times. Blake says somethin like "Great. Back in the Fourth Grade." meaning those the stuff he's reliving must've happened in that grade.

And we know that 4th graders are typically either 9 or 10

(assuming Jess was in the same grade she was only 9 or 10 as well which. damn.)

But we ALSO know what year this takes place in, because there's multiple instances on papers and stuff with the year 1995 (in fact it's December 1995 iirc). I don't have any screenshots on-hand but I could totally go get some at some point lol

MeaninG Blake was 9 or 10 in 1995

We also know that Outlast 2 takes place not all that long after the first game does (due to the Murkoff Account, which, admittedly I haven't read in a while so feel free to correct me there). And we know Outlast happened in 2013.

This mean that our pal Blake is most likely 28 (or 27). Which also makes him the youngest, since Miles and Waylon are both supposedly in their "early to mid 30s" (I couldn't see the cited tweet so for all I know this could be inaccurate but it sounds reasonable enough for me to believe).

Also Waylon has two kids so I'm inclined to believe he's the oldest but like they're all like a few years apart in age anyway lol

Anyway this is probably really obvious stuff but I thought it was interesting for some reason

38 notes - Posted August 6, 2022

#2

random minor thing but I always thought that while Frisk's SAVEs are like normal manual save point saving you'd expect to see, when Flowey steals back control as Omega Flowey, the whole "File x loaded/saved" thing gives the vibes of someone using an emulator. Where you have multiple interchangeable save states that you can save or load to whenever you want, even if the game isn't normally capable of that.

In particular it makes me think back to repeatedly loading a save state in Majora's Mask because of the goddamn town shooting gallery mini game AUGh

Which I guess it kind of makes sense? Omega Flowey is artificially stealing control of the game, sort of like how an emulator gives you an artificial way of accessing a game (in the sense of like I could play a PS1 game on my pc, or a N64 game on my Wii U, for example). So not only does his save system make sense from an in-game stand point, it's kinda cool from a meta standpoint too.

At least, I think it is.

63 notes - Posted June 19, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

late night posting of an old-ish drawing

Psychonauts was big on my mind for a short while there and although it's not my current focus, the games are still really great!! And I still like this little drawing I did of Raz.

It was interesting trying to translate his design to my art style, because that game has a very particular look (in a good way).

also hope y'all don't mind my random mish-mash of posting and reblogging various stuff, I cannot be consistent to save my life

Hopefully I'll have some new art to share soon though!! Assuming this funk of mine dies down, anyway.

71 notes - Posted May 16, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[schismusic]

THE DISCOGRAPHY PRINCIPLE, Episode 3: Godflesh - or, Song Against Itself

The discography principle may be defined as an objective way to determine whether or not you're worthy of calling a band or artist "your favorite" or "one of your favorites". A possible enunciation of it goes as follows:

"Let u ≝ some asshole, B ≝ {b|b is a band}, n ≝ #({x|x is a record by b}); let p = #({y|y is a record by b in u's possession}) = p1 + p2 wherein p1 ≝ number of physical records by b you own in any format and p2 ≝ number of records by b you have downloaded. If p ≥ n ∨ p2 = n (for n → +∞), then ∃b∈B such that b is one of u's favorite bands."

When u = me, this subset of B (which we might call Bf) is comprised of six bands, off the top of my head: Autechre, Godflesh, Shellac, Kraftwerk, Fugazi and Coil, listed in no particular order.

If you want to read the prologue to this series, go here. Otherwise, let's get going.

Okay, okay, I know, it was the funniest bit ever to call this article like a song by the band I discussed in the previous episode and with a song title I'd teased in the post right before this one, please stop clapping, autographs on the left.

As some of you might remember, a piece about Godflesh already exists on this blog and, if you're so inclined, you can read it here. The reason why I'm writing another one is because

a) that post doesn't entirely fit the criteria of this series, being mostly focused on autobiography and other such bullshit, and

b) somewhat randomly, last month I spent a really long time wondering if I should setup my guitar for C# standard tuning the next time I re-string it. The most obvious reason to do so is, of course, covering Godflesh on my free time, and I don't even really care about the added ease of playing and bending - I'm actually considering using .012 or even .013 gauge strings to maintain the same feel that .011 gauge has with E standard; I really just want the extra range.

My band is in a bit of a rut as we speak, writing songs is a bit hard for me at this given time and nothing new has emerged yet since last summer; we have a couple new ones that we've already played live, but our last gig kind of sucked if I have to be totally honest with you. I guess what I'm aiming for here is something that might shake up my playing again, get me to think a bit and explore new possibilities.

One of the key elements of Godflesh that have always captivated my imagination is their conscious, and tragically ill-fated, effort to not be perceived as a metal band. It's an effort I at the very least understand, not to say share. Most bands in the rock ballpark do this thing where they try to, somehow, relate to rock music more than they do the idea behind it. Let me rephrase that: the people who play an instrument who grew up on rock music almost always, without fail, talk about how rock music had them wanting to right the wrongs, do something new and powerful and liberating, but in practice that drive turns into constant blues jamming in E minor or A minor. Or, if you're a punk band, a liberal amount of power chord riffs bordering on pop-punk songwriting (assuming you haven't taken that exact road already). Metal is possibly the most open about its clichéd nature, to a point where it's kind of part of its perception in the general public: calling it "just noise" not only implies it not to be music, it implies it never goes anywhere else from there. And to be fair many bands kind of play on that idea: if it ain't broke, don't fix it. This is particularly evident in the case of the more rock'n'roll-adjacent types of metal, or in the more mainstream ones: a record like 72 Seasons by Metallica being hailed by the few who actually did say good things about it because "it's a return to their roots", or black metal bands trying to convince their listeners that this time they might be doing something different. And just to be clear, I'm not saying these don't happen in other genres as well (I still cannot for the life of me figure out why everything Aphex Twin put out from Syro onwards was seen as some kind of second coming of Christ even though 1) RDJ had been putting out a ton of music under his other aliases up until that point and 2) they're not bad records, but it all feels sort of like a retread of early AFX stuff).

Eloquently enough, in 1989, Godflesh put out a t-shirt with a pretty unequivocal sentence on its back: DEATH TO FALSE METAL. While the sentence was very happily appropriated by those who, as it turns out, eat and breathe and live and - most likely - even shit out false metal, in the year 1989 the statement could not resonate any clearer: no frills, no bullshit, no dicking around. Godflesh's presentation gave an excellent expression of what quote-unquote "true" metal could be. It's two people on stage, with a small stack of amps behind them and an Alesis HR-16 drum machine as the only other elements of stage decor. At three points of their career the band had a third member: an extra guitarist on a couple tracks on Pure, a drummer on the records Songs of Love and Hate and Hymns. But that was it. Justin Broadrick's retrospective grievances concerning the band's name applied to the records with a human drummer notwithstanding, it was unmistakable that Godflesh's music had the heart of presenting itself alone, naked and very much afraid. More than that: it was, for all intents and purposes, the band's only defense.

Formally analyzing the music of Godflesh lends little interesting results, even though JKB's unconventional approach to guitar writing and GC Green's thunderous basslines offer surprises and subtleties aplenty for those who are willing to listen. The point is actually how much of a racket these two manage to conjure as much as the way it's never simply - as we said above - just noise, if you can give them the time to prove it to you. And I'm not even talking about their surprisingly keen if minimal melodic sense, or they way they construct memorable riffs from very restrictive elements (even on their least focused efforts, like for instance Songs of Love and Hate, there's always at least one brainworm level riff that you can't get out - for me it's Wake and Anthem, and for the latter - off of Hymns - the fault might very well lie with the spectacular Jesus Christ Superstar mashup floating around on the internet), but both pale in comparison to the band's consistent honesty. Like David Lynch characters, Godflesh never lie. They never try anything funny in the conventional sense of the word, and yet they remain open to flirtation with anything that might catch their interest. Which is also where the plethora of side projects JKB took part in over the years factors in: I will admit I've only ever explored Techno Animal/Zonal, but I guess I have all the time in the world to get that in order.

Another thing that comes to my mind when listening to/thinking of Godflesh is Deus Ex, and specifically the original from 2000, in that everytime somebody mentions either the former or the latter I just have to play it again. It's quite hard to quantify just what exactly the special quality to these two things is - if I had to take a guess, it's simply the profound interest they radiate. It kind of always feels like it's in your hands, in full control, and yet something still escapes you, something could be approached differently. And it's surprisingly fragile and emotional. JKB and Ben Green's friendship is, I think, the best indicator of what Godflesh at its core is - an element of familiarity for someone who's unfamiliar to the rest of the world, who feels out of place and out of step.

And this last reference is nowhere near unintentional: just like Ian MacKaye felt "out of step with the world", or for that matter just like Henry Rollins had a whole slew of songs about profound feelings of discontent and solipsism both in and out of Black Flag, Justin Broadrick and Ben Green built their musical and social identities in a place of being unrecognized, invalidated, seen as weird and bad - it's no surprise that Godflesh saw themselves more aligned with Killing Joke than, say, Black Sabbath (despite coming from the same city).

Of course, an excess of sincerity - a policy of truth, even? - can very easily lead you astray, make you lose yourself in a way. But I still enjoyed that sense of laser-focused disorientation that Songs of Love and Hate, Us and Them and (to an extent) Hymns have to offer, and I still do give them the occasional spin. The same goes for the supposed (here we go again…) "return to form" with the last three records: but then again, when did Godflesh ever do anything like Post Self? I mean, ok, if you want you can trace it back to Selfless (the connection is pretty obvious if you can read, which at this point is a pretty safe assumption), and then again Streetcleaner's album cover back in '89 literally represented a world lit only by fire, and Purge is just Pure with an extra G. But all of the records sort of succeed in giving us a very interesting look at a mature Godflesh, a Godflesh that went through the trappings of their entire professional and personal lives and then once again come back and rearrange their influences. And how often does that happen? How often does a band offer a "critical retrospective" that is, for once, actually critical and not just a rehash or a best-of?

For reference, I don't even like A World Lit Only by Fire that much, and I do recognize the irony in JKB admitting he literally just wanted to recapture the early records' magic after all I've said. I just kind of see it as getting your bearings again. And if I were them, I'd understand: you get back to the scene ten years after the band crashed and burned in the middle of their biggest tour yet, you essentially haven't spoken since 2002 and then you pull up to the Roadburn Festival and play your biggest record. A test drive would be in order: can we still do this?, can we get it up and running again? And if that riff at the beginning of New Dark Ages is any indicator, hell yeah they could.

A World Lit Only by Fire is an excellent representation of why "artists must be allowed to go through bad periods, they must be allowed to do bad work, they must be allowed to get in a mess, they must be allowed to have dud experiments. They must be allowed to have periods where they repeat themselves in a rather aimless, fruitless way before they can pick up and go on" (David Sylvester). And Godflesh never were the kind to give way to the pressure - give them three years and they can still, at the very least, turn some heads. A track like the alternate version of Parasite they included in the New Flesh in Dub album and in the Japanese version of Post Self tells the whole story: its understanding of its own internal rhythm is as fragmented as ever in the work of Godflesh, sounding closer to a re-edit of Techno Animal's more rhythmically oriented moments, and the mangled guitar and bass parts reveal the truly skilled engineering of the violence going on in the studio - and the way that the band choose to sacrifice it in order to sound real. Because if the original Parasite has anything, that is believability and presence: it's uncomfortably close and tangible, with horrifying lyrics that would, at the very least, seem to be about historical recurrence and political discomfort with demagogy. Neither of which are particularly frequent topics in Godflesh's lyric book and are at high risk of turning cringier and more memeable by the second (see for instance Eminem's now-infamous anti-Trump freestyle), but here happen to come in very economically packaged doses that feel much more poignant specifically because they refuse to go too far into specifics. Like, for Christ's sake, what the fuck is a slateman?

So yeah, in short, you bet your ass my fanboy ass was in a record shop on June 9, 2023, and Purge was exactly what I expected it to be: a good record by a good band that still manages to prove capable to sound like they give a shit about what they're doing, unlike their former friends Metallica, and to be in touch with a form of emotionality that seems to exist firmly outside of the reach of anyone else involved in the genre - or outside of it. This is, by definition, the truest metal possible; the one that tugs at the heartstrings with the grace and poise of a mule with its balls tied to a fencepost.