#did it have a different connotation when these names were thought up or was some old guy just drunk off his ass and thought it was funny?

[lay-z]

cotton candy clouds | 1

Synopsis: Due to his rank, status, and many combat achievements, Lieutenant Riley is assigned an emotional support hybrid by the brass; whether he likes it or not.

Pairing: handler!Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x dog!hybrid!fem!Reader

Warnings/Info: 18+ MDNI | Reader is a purebred Samoyed (dog)hybrid. Despite ears, tails, and their adapted nature/instincts/personalities, hybrids have human features. | bimbo!Reader; hypersexuality; dom/sub elements; heavy smut; tw: past (sexual) abuse/manipulation; cussing; fluff; angst; hurt/comfort; eventual romance; strangers to lovers; dub-con elements (Some warnings only apply to future parts!)

☁ ccc; masterlist

Simon remembers telling Price to ‘piss off with that shite’ when the latter had approached him with the brass’ announcement of granting the Lieutenant the rare permission to become the handler of an emotional support hybrid.

There aren’t many officers on base who are allowed to have one, and Simon knows why that is. In his opinion, the whole handler/hybrid deal has all the negative connotations of a toxic and borderline abusive relationship, and Simon simply doesn’t want to be part of that.

Did anyone of those fuckers ever bother to read his file? He bloody well doubts it.

He does respect the official handlers and trainers of the military K9’s on base, though. Whatever bond they share was forged and solidified in battle and goes way beyond that odd and shallow power play that happens between some officers and their so-called “pets”.

So, Simon said no to the offer, firmly and several times at that. He doesn’t care for the bloody permission, no matter how rare it is, no matter how fellow soldiers who’d caught rumour about it had blatantly stated their envy about the possibility of gaining a hybrid pet themselves. Truthfully, Simon becomes sick to his stomach whenever one of the other officers and NCO’s talk about wanting to own a pretty pleasure puppy; something dumb and docile to have fun and unwind with in their time off duty.

Fucking hell. No, Simon doesn’t want to be part of that, let alone be responsible of some freakish hybrid mutt.

Weeks pass, both thoughts and arguments about hybrids and handlers are pushed back and filed away in some nook inside Simon’s mind as he falls back into his daily grind and familiar routine; running drills, paperwork, field trainings, preparing for missions, more paperwork.

Until one fateful day in January.

The UK weather has been more terrible lately; icy rain and howling winds beating down on base while Simon was trying to keep the rookies in line at the shooting range. By the end of the day, his fatigues were drenched and clinging to his broad frame while the chill was seeping through his pale skin, settling into his bones; making his limbs heavy and turning them stiff as if he’d carried a rucksack full of boulders on his back for a week straight.

The moment Simon arrives at the front door to his flat on base, though, the hairs at the back of his neck bristle immediately. The hallway is empty, but–

Something isn’t right. He can practically sense that someone was here, perhaps even inside his place in the worst case.

Halting in his measured steps while his breathing levels out to that eerie shallowness he’s adapted to on missions, his ears perk up under his skull balaclava as he listens for any odd noises coming from inside. Unable to pick up anything unusual, Simon still chooses to rather be safe than sorry as he reaches for his pistol in the holster strapped to his right thigh.

Simon manages to open the front door without any noise before he slips inside effortlessly, living up to his name as a ghost as he stalks through his flat on high alert; checking the small storage room before sneaking down the short, dark hallway leading up to his open living room. He can bloody sense that something is different, that someone has tampered with his safe space; he can smell the lingering scent of cigarette smoke, sweat, and tangy cologne even through his damp balaclava.

The sight that greets him on his old, tattered couch when he eventually flips on the light switch, is unlike anything he expected and Simon’s whole body tenses, eyes widening comically as if he’s met face to face by a firing squad.

But it’s just you, a bloody dog hybrid, curled up on his couch like you belong there–which you don’t.

And Simon slowly lowers his pistol, watches your fluffy white ears appear from under your hair as they perk up before you lift your head, like pristine cotton balls popping open in the sunlight; your body uncurling and stretching slowly while you squint against the bright yellow drop-light.

“What the bloody… fuck,” Simon breathes, chest deflating with a deep sigh as he puts his pistol back into his holster, securing it once more. Dark eyes flicker around the room before he catches a large black suitcase next to what looks like a gift basket.

Simon approaches the basket the way he would a bomb threat while his vigilant eyes keep shifting towards you as if you could attack him any moment, although you’re clearly still waking up, all discombobulated and sleep-drunk.

When Simon catches a clear view at the assortment of goodies and the black folder tucked between them inside the basket, his cold heart stutters and his blood freezes in his veins. At the sight of the pale pink collar with its matching leash, the vein in his temple throbs with a mixture of fury and revulsion.

The sound of your soft, sickly-sweet voice chirping out a greeting nearly makes his wretched soul leave his body. “Hi… Hello.”

Simon takes a step back, needing a protective wall at his back and as much space between himself and you as possible as he tries to assess the situation.

“How the fuck did you get inside my flat?” Simon mutters under his breath, dark eyes widening when he realizes the thumping in his ears doesn’t match his rapid heartbeat but belongs to your fluffy white tail gently wagging against the soft leather of his couch; just as fluffy and white as your ears, like freshly made cotton candy.

“I was brought here and told to wait for my new handler,” you answer as your head tilts to the side curiously, gazing up at the large man with bright doe-eyes. “Are you Simon?”

Simon’s narrowed eyes widen instantly again at the sound of your voice uttering his name so sweetly, so... casually. It makes him sick to his stomach, and he swallows back the sour taste in his mouth as it fills with saliva.

“Who the fuck brought you ‘ere?”

He needs a name, so he knows who to beat to a pulp before he grabs the first poor bastard who crosses his path next.

“Uhm–oh!” Your small, triangle-shaped ears perk up, and the giggle you let out makes Simon grimace underneath his mask. “They had silly names for humans,” you tell him, still giggling softly to yourself before adding: “Gaz and Soap.”

Simon huffs in exasperation and pinches the bridge of his nose. Of course, it explains the “special orders” his bloody Sergeants had gotten from Price today; the reason he couldn’t attend today’s training session. And suddenly, it all clicks into place.

“You’re all wet, Simon,” you remark about his appearance; sweet voice laced with a concern so genuine that is has his spine tense and his stomach churn with aversion. “Are you not cold?”

He wants to bark at you to stop calling him by his name, to stop trying to appeal to him just because your bloody stupid nature tells you to, to stop imprinting on your so called “new handler” just because someone told you that you belong to him now. He wants you out of his flat and out of his life before anything terrible and out of his control can take root and blossom behind his ribcage.

“Get up,” he snaps at you before his thoughts can spiral any further and he almost, almost feels bad when you flinch in your seat, ducking your head submissively while your ears flatten against your head. “I’m taking you back. You’re not staying here, lass.”

“W-What?” Your face drops, your fluffy tail stops wagging; eyes glossing over as you begin to tremble and shrink on the spot. The sound of your soft whine only angers Simon more, because it tugs on his heartstring, makes his protective instincts flare.

“You heard me. Get up and grab your fuckin’ suitcase. ’m taking you back to wherever you came from.”

When Simon glances back at you, something mean and violent lodges itself into his chest cavity; twisting and squeezing his rotten heart as soon as he sees the devastated look on your face; ears drooping and shoulders slouching in defeat while another soft whine vibrates in your chest.

“Okay,” you answer eventually, snivelling when fat tear breaches your lower lash line and runs down your supple cheek as you untuck your legs from under yourself to move off the couch. “Okay…”

There’s a shrill ringing in his ears when Simon’s mouth seems to move on its own, making a decision for him. “Wait. Stay–Stay right where you bloody are.”

And you immediately do as you’re told, like the obedient pup you obviously are, settling back and perking up again as you blink dumbly at the brutish man with bright, big eyes and an expectant look that makes Simon groan internally before he reaches into one of his many pockets to retrieve his old smartphone.

He mutters and curses under his breath as the cracked screen lights up, and it doesn’t take long for him to find his Captain’s name in his short contact list. Simon taps the screen with his gloved thumb to call the man, ready to argue tooth and nail to have you picked up by from his flat again, so he doesn’t have to deal with it.

Simon’s jaw is clenched tightly while his sharp gaze keeps flickering back to you, still not quite believing you’re not some stress-induced hallucination, or nightmare.

It takes two rings before Price picks up.

“Ghost–“

Simon inhales deeply. “Price–“

“Getting acquainted with your new companion, son? She’s quite the sweetheart. Easy on the eyes, too, judging by what the lads told me.”

His chest deflates, air rushing from his lungs in a long exhale. That comment alone is enough to make him even more furious. “I don’t want her. Take her back to wherever she came from, Captain.”

There’s a beat of tense silence before Price speaks up again, and Simon can hear the squeak of the old office chair as the other man leans back in it.

“Did you read her file yet?”

“No, should I?” Simon counters gruffly, feeling his patience grow thinner by the second.

“Aye, son, I suggest you should.”

“Gimme the short version, Price. I’m this close to handing her over to the next lucky bloke who passes by my fuckin’ flat.”

“Yeah, don’t do that,” Price says decisively on the other; his gruff voice way too calm for Simon’s liking. “She’s a rescue, Lieutenant. Got rescued from one of those terrible puppy mills.”

That makes Simon shut up as his eyes flicker over to you; softening somewhat when his eyes lock with yours. You keep watching him with the slightest pout, waiting for orders or for him to finally send you away. He’s still considering it, though the revelation of your background makes him hesitate for some odd reason. Empathy.

“Simon?”

Simon squeezes the phone harder in his grip; hard enough he thinks he might break it once and for all. “You better find a new handler for her, Captain.” He bites out through clenched teeth. “It’s not gonna be me.”

Price sighs. “Alright.” There is another pause and Simon can hear it when Price scratches his coarse beard in contemplation before he speaks up again. “Just keep an eye on her for the night, aye? I’ll make the necessary arrangement to have her transferred to someone else.”

“Good. She can stay for one night. One. Night.” Simon growls before hanging up.

The soft sound of your tail thumping against the couch catches his attention again and when he looks back at you, you’re practically beaming at him.

“Fuckin’ hell…”

[fruitymocha]

So there’s a variety of watermelon called “sugar baby”

There’s also a variety of pea called “sugar daddy”

I don’t know what to do with this information.

[strwberrybils]

IDFC | BILLIE EILISH.

୧ ‧₊˚ your best friend comes home drunk again, and you realize that hiding your love for her is dawning on you more than you thought. | part two

pairings & aus. billie eilish x fem!reader warnings. angst & nothing but it | unrequited love | no happy ending (but do tell if you want a part two...) author's note. hello second upload of the day!! (this is so unlike me) but i had this revolutionary idea while listening to idfc by blackbear...so here's this very angsty fic lmao! enjoy! word count. 2.7k

falling in love with your best friend has got to take the cake for the ‘dumbest shit i’ve ever put myself through’ award, you think.

you didn’t mean for it to happen— of course not, and it all happened so quickly that you didn’t realize how deep you were in it until months later.

you and billie had became friends in an odd way, you knew someone who knew claudia and of course, billie did too— so the both of you mingled at her birthday party a couple years back, when the both of you were just shy of eighteen.

nobody could seperate the two of you if they tried, and that trait carried on with you and billie until you stepped into adulthood. moving in together seemed like such a good idea in the past— you two were tight, and billie wanted to live separately from her family now— it should’ve been so easy, right?

well no, of course not.

before meeting billie, you assumed that you were straight. but as teenagers, that when lines start to get blurred and things start to mess with your head, and you would sometimes catch yourself staring at her for a little too long, or your heart twisting whenever she texted you.

it killed you to fall in love with billie. it was painful and long, and with every day that passed— she only made it worse.

because she was billie eilish, she would unintentionally flirt with you, but that’s because she did it with everyone, of course she wasn’t going to treat you any differently. she always called you nicknames like ‘baby’ and ‘mama’, which wouldn’t have bothered you that bad if you understood the friendly connotations behind it. but you wanted her to be yours so damn badly, and every time she called you anything but your name, it made your skin fiery to the touch.

but the worst of the worst, god— the thing that’ll haunt you forever, was when she had kissed you in your shared apartment after your 20th birthday. compared to her at the time, you were much more innocent, and hadn’t hardly kissed anyone in your entire life. and with your own speculation that you may not be strictly into men, you had drunkenly asked her to take your ‘girl kiss virginity’ away, and she obliged like it was nothing.

you didn’t like the kiss at all. not because she wasn’t a good kisser— she was a damn good one, but it was because the kiss was deep and passionate, and her hands were roaming all over your body as one kiss turned to two, and two turned to three, and you don’t even know how long the both of you were wrapped in each other until she complained that she was tired and that she was going to go to sleep.

it made you feel like shit. she had slipped out of your room and left you lonesome, and you brushed your fingertips over your lips to try to make sense of what just happened. you had just made out with your best friend, which wasn’t the issue, the issue was that you liked it.

you eventually had to pick a side, if you were going to let your little crush get in the way of friendship, or if you were just going to sweep all of those romantic feelings under the rug. and that’s exactly what you did— you pretended like it didn’t hurt when she would get into relationships, or come to you asking for help to plot on someone she wanted to be with.

you were just being a good best friend by helping her out. she would always ask you why you didn’t ever date, and you just made up some lame excuse about how that wasn’t what interested you. which wasn’t entirely a lie, it didn’t interest you, because only she did.

in current time, it’s half past two in the morning when billie stumbles through the door of your shared apartment, keys jingling on her carabiner against her jean-clad thigh when her eyes meet yours. you’re sitting idle at the kitchen island with a bowl of cereal in your hand, clad in nothing but a pair of billie’s boxers and a lacy white tee. you shoot her an inquisitive look, “where have you been dude? it’s like, two in the fucking morning, and i’ve barely seen your face all day.”

she gives out a nonchalant shrug, closing the door with her foot, and you can just tell by her sluggish body language that she’s anything but sober. she’s smiling too much and not talking enough, and when billie gets like that, it’s usually because she’s had a couple of drinks.

you’ve been out all night, don’t know where you’ve been, youre slurring on your words, not making any sense— but i don’t fucking care.

“where have you been, billie?” you ask her, dropping your spoon in your empty bowl as you looked at her, waiting on your answer.

she’s moving so slow that it starts to piss you off, and she just gives you another drunken shrug with a wave of her hand, “don’t worry a-about it, mama, just..a l-little get together.”

the nickname that she gives you makes your skin crawl, and you slide off of your stool and grab your phone, placing your bowl in the sink without saying a word billie. you don’t have the energy to entertain her shit tonight, so you walk up the stairs quietly, slamming your room door in contrast to your silence.

you don’t expect her to bother you for the rest of the night, but billie being billie, she unsolicitedly opens your bedroom door, leaning against the door frame with one arm resting above her head, the other at her side, holding a cup of juice.

“what did you do…tonight?” billie’s words are choppy, and you try your best to not pay any mind to her. usually when she’s drunk, you’d take such good care of her, getting her into comfier clothes and letting her sleep in your bed. but you were irritated now, and you tried your best to fight the urge to be your usual, hospitable self.

“nothing, i waited on your ass to get back so i could sleep.” you responded coldly to her, walking over to your dresser to grab a hoodie to slip on. your eyes scanned the array of clothing, and you bit your lip when you realized that all the clean hoodies you had belonged to billie.

you pretended like it didn’t bother you and grabbed a gray essentials hoodie, pulling it over your head and fixing the hood, “i’m gonna go to sleep, so…”

billie sunk into the oak wood of your door, and of course, when you turn your head for five seconds, she slips and falls straight to the floor.

“fuck!”

you quickly whipped your head around, and you wanted so badly tonight to just keep to yourself and not deal with billie’s shenanigans, but you couldn’t control yourself as you ran over to her, kneeling down and grabbing her face. her eyes were closed like she was asleep, and you tapped her cheek lightly but frantically, “bils? talk to me, are you awake?”

“i-i’m fine.” billie breathes out after a couple of moments, sitting up with her back pressed against the wall. she lets out a deep sigh that makes you let out one in relief.

even though you spoke against it at first, you were determined now to put her to bed safely. you offered her your water bottle that was on your dresser as you promised her that you’d be back, venturing out into the hallway and stepping into your bathroom.

you drew a hot bath for billie the way she liked it, leaving a change of clothes on the toilet, paired with a towel.

your blood was pumping adrenaline through your veins so hard that you could feel it heat your forehead. you weren’t even angry anymore— you just felt weak now, upset with the fact that billie always seemed to have this hold over you.

you loved her too much. it was becoming an issue now, but there wasn’t anything you could do or say, so the only option you had was to stay silent and suck it up. and although it hurt, really damn badly, those were your only options.

so you walked back into your bedroom and helped billie to the tub that waited for her, helping her strip out of her clothes that reeked of burberry perfume and tequila. her shirt was now discarded on the floor along with her pants, and the only thing she was in now was her bra and underwear.

of course, billie being your best friend— you’ve seen her naked plenty of times, but it still shocks you a little when she slips out of her undergarments, sinking into the bathtub, resting her head on the side of it.

“will you stay and talk to me?” billie murmurs, a little more sober now, and you nod silently, sitting crossed legged on the floor next to her.

it takes everything in you not to kiss her right now. she’s resting her head on her arms and looking at you with soft, tired eyes, her eyelashes drooping as she fought against sleep. her lips were pink and a little swollen, and she parts them to whisper lowly, “i’m….sorry.”

“sorry for what, billie?”

silence hangs in the air for a second until you hear her move in the water, taking a loofah and lavender scented body wash. she starts with her arms, head leaned against the wall behind her, “such a mess. i am— i-i’m sorry that you…have to put up with my shit.”

“it’s okay.” you mutter silently, “i do it because i love you.”

that makes billie smile, yet she’s got no idea that the love you’re describing is so much deeper than either of you could ever imagine. but you mask it well, flashing her a fake and small smile, throwing your head back to rest it on the toilet seat lid.

you honestly start to fall asleep until you hear the water drain, and billie grabs her towel and clothes behind you as you rub your eyes, jolting awake.

there’s no talking between the two of you. you just wait until she’s done putting on her t-shirt and sweats and when she’s ready, you lead her back to your bedroom instead of her own. you didn’t trust her to be alright on her own, so you let her sleep in your bed.

when you turn all of the lights off, billie climbs into bed next to you, her face so close to yours that your noses are almost touching.

her hand touches yours for a brief moment, “thank you…for always taking c-care…of me. i love you, y/n.”

billie falls asleep before you can even reply, and you eventually do the same, a tear slipping down your cheek silently.

the morning after is quiet, too quiet. the kind of quiet that presses against your chest and makes you want to scream just to break it. billie is still asleep when you wake up, her face turned toward you, the sunlight peeking through the blinds casting lines across her freckled skin. her lips are slightly parted, her breathing soft, and it makes your chest ache in that stupid way it always does when you look at her for too long.

you slide out of bed as carefully as you can, trying not to wake her, but even in her sleep, she stirs when you move. her hand stretches out to the space you just left, searching for you instinctively. it’s not fair how effortlessly she makes you feel like you belong to her, even when she doesn’t mean to.

the kitchen is the only refuge you have. you busy yourself making two cups of coffee, your hands shaking just enough to make it hard to pour the water into the machine. every sound feels too loud—the clink of the mug against the counter, the hum of the coffee pot, the low groan of the fridge door as you open it. your head is swimming with the memory of last night—her drunk apologies, the way her voice broke when she called herself a mess, and how much you wanted to hold her and never let go.

but you can’t. because she doesn’t love you like that.

she shuffles into the kitchen a while later, her hair a mess and her hoodie hanging off one shoulder. she looks like chaos wrapped in comfort, and it’s unfair how effortlessly beautiful she is. she rubs her eyes, leaning against the doorway as she watches you. “morning, mama,” she says, her voice still scratchy from sleep.

you don’t even bother correcting her nickname this time. it’s a battle you’ll never win. “morning,” you mutter, sliding a mug of coffee across the counter toward her.

she takes it, wrapping her hands around the warm ceramic, and gives you a soft smile. it’s the kind of smile that would make anyone else’s heart flutter, but for you, it just feels like a weight. “you didn’t have to do all that for me last night, you know,” she says quietly, her eyes downcast.

“it’s fine, billie,” you reply, your voice more clipped than you intend. “you were drunk. i couldn’t just leave you like that.”

she frowns, her brow furrowing like she’s trying to figure you out. “are you mad at me?”

you laugh bitterly, shaking your head. “no, billie. i’m not mad at you. i’m mad at….myself.”

her frown deepens, and she sets the mug down on the counter. “but why? you didn’t do anything wrong.”

her response makes you want to scream. you want to tell her everything, every little thought that’s been eating away at you for months, years even. but instead, you bite your tongue, because you can’t risk losing her. so you lie, like you always do. “forget it. it’s nothing.”

she doesn’t believe you—of course she doesn’t. but she doesn’t push, which almost makes it worse. because deep down, you wish she cared enough to dig. you wish she could see past the walls you’ve built up and realize that every time you look at her, it feels like your heart is breaking all over again.

the day passes in a blur of nothingness. billie spends most of it curled up on the couch, scrolling through her phone and occasionally singing along to whatever song is playing softly in the background. you try to distract yourself with chores, cleaning the apartment until your hands are raw from scrubbing. but no matter how much you busy yourself, your thoughts always circle back to her.

it’s late when she finally speaks again, her voice cutting through the silence like a knife. “do you ever feel like you’re…stuck?”

you glance up from where you’re folding laundry, startled by the vulnerability in her tone. “stuck how?”

“like…like you’re not where you’re supposed to be. like you’re waiting for something to happen, but it never does.”

your throat tightens, because that’s exactly how you’ve felt since the day you realized you were in love with her. “yeah,” you admit quietly. “i know what that feels like.”

she doesn’t say anything else, but her eyes meet yours across the room, and for a moment, it feels like she’s trying to tell you something without words. but then she looks away, and the moment is gone.

later, when she’s fallen asleep on the couch, you sit beside her, watching the rise and fall of her chest. the lyrics to “idfc” play in your head like a cruel mantra: “tell me pretty lies, look me in my face, tell me that you love me even if it’s fake.”

you reach out, brushing a strand of hair from her face, your fingers lingering for just a second too long. “i love you, billie,” you whisper, your voice barely audible over the sound of her breathing.

but she doesn’t hear you. and maybe that’s for the best. because no matter how much it hurts, you’ll keep pretending. you’ll keep being her best friend, her safe place, even if it kills you. because as much as you wish she could love you back, you’d rather have her like this than not at all.

and so you sit there, the weight of your unspoken feelings pressing down on you, and you let the tears fall silently, knowing that tomorrow, nothing will have changed.

[naneun-no]

From my drafts so it’s late but:

Today’s delulu thought is that Standing Next to You has too many lyrical coincidences to not be about Jimin.

🫣 I SAID IT WAS DELUSIONAL OKAY

You are free to disagree. You probably should 🤣

I mean we know it wasn’t written by Jung Kook but obviously the version he recorded was arranged with and for JK, and “leave your body golden” can’t be a coincidence right? Like it’s the whole ass album name, plus a word that carries connotations of JK himself, which the ppl who worked with him on Seven must have known.

So if that wasn’t a coincidence… then what about:

1. “How we left and right is something we control” — a callback to both Left and Right by CP feat JK, but also a nod to Butter, a massive BTS hit and a song that he performs alongside his boyfie bestie JM.

2. “When it’s deep like DNA, something they can’t take away” — a callback to another massive BTS hit, interesting. And *delulu warning* also reminds me of JM and JK’s extreme similarities that they themselves have referred to before?? They’re wired the same, they have the same sense of humor, they live and breathe for the same shit and even though they have some very key differences, they really do seem like twin flames (even if you just see it as platonic). They are similar in ways that seem braided into the fibers of their being. Like, in their DNA 🧬 some may say. *delulu warning #2* I’m also reminded of Jimin’s Letter lyrics: “After all this time has passed will we still be the same? Just like we were when we first met.”

Also, “something they can’t take away” is an interesting turn of phrase… more on that later.

3. Okay the real meaty part:

Screaming I’ll testify that we'll survive the test of time, they can't deny our love. They can't divide us, we'll survive the test of time I promise I'll be right here

[I seriously can’t believe how closeted-couple-coded this song is]

First off, again with the Letter lyrics mirrored here with the “test of time.” Then it’s got all this drama about being ripped apart and how it won’t happen and how they’ll be next to each other no matter what and that they have “something they can’t take away.”

Not only does all that line up with other Letter lyrics, but it is so goddamn dramatic and for what?

Be for real, what straight couple in this day and age would have this much working against them?? The only possible explanations are: 1) within the fantasy world of a song I suppose this could be some sort of Romeo and Juliet/West Side Story motif, and to be fair the music video did have a kind of rival gang/crime family look to it? Sort of? With the men fighting below the stage? Idk. Or it could be 2) the fact that idols do in fact often have to hide even their straight relationships, which is wild to me. But I know it’s a thing, so. I suppose there’s that. JK doesn’t seem the type though honestly. I think he’d be even more open about it than V.

On the other hand, the lyrics seem SO fit for a couple who are a) queer, b) closeted, c) currently in/about to be in a legislatively homophobic military and country (am I saying that right? Lol) and d) internationally famous pop idols in the SAME BAND who are both widely regarded as heterosexual sex symbols and would be shunned by many people in their homeland AND internationally if their queerness were to be revealed, much less if they were truly an item and THAT news broke.

Whew. That was a lot but like… that would be a real example of a relationship that would be VERY threatened by outside forces plotting against them and trying to separate them. Not JK and a hot blonde model, not him and a Korean actress, not basically any other scenario but a queer relationship.

Idk I know he didn’t write it but like ??? What the hell is that theme? I’m dying to get inside the mind of the people who DID write it, because are they or are they jikookers at this point like?!

4. Just for fun I’ll also point out the “leave your body golden like the sun and moon” 😏 like. Okay. At this point the songwriters are watching Jikook compilations, drooling over @slaaverin edits like convince me they’re not. CONVINCE ME.

5. “Deeper than the rain”?! “The pain”?! Alright I’m not even serious at this point but ??? Rainy day fight 🌧️?!?! 🤣🤣

6. “Standing next to you” oh you mean like… for 18 months? In a companion enlistment program? Like that?

Alright alright I’m done but you get my point. What even is this song if not an anthem of jikookery?! It’s more on-the-nose than Letter, more sneaky than Still With You. It wasn’t written by JK but at this point I’m calling that the songwriters are as delulu as me.

Hope y’all are well. If you made it to the end of this thank you for donning your tinfoil hat with me and I hope you at least got a giggle.

✌️

[nieceeee]

“It’s Better This Way.”

P/S: baby daddy!eren and reader are having casual conversation like old times

W/C: 1146

A/N: cute SFW fluffy scene just showing their relationship together. No triggers, light flirting, baby mentioned…

Little snippet of the backstory of my OC (substituted for Eren) showing their relationship dynamic and maybe a few mixed feelings. Wanted to do something cute and simple. (Note: Eren is now in a relationship but wasnt @ the time of conception or in previous fic ‘Let Me Help’) lots of dialogue this time

Previous fic: Let Me Help

“Aye yo, whats up baby mama!” Eren says as you pick up his daily call. “Ugh E, you know I hate when you call me that.” You say, rolling your eyes. You shift the phone to the right side pressing it between your ear and shoulder. “I mean is that not who you are though,” he concluded. You could hear the shrug in his voice. “I would prefer you call me by my name or at least the mother of your child.” you express. “I don't get the negative connotation behind it anyway. You had my baby. You are my baby’s mother therefore you are my babymama.”

Knowing this conversation wasn't going anywhere, you decided to switch the subject. “Anyway, are you coming by to see c/n today?” You ask as you rummage around your room. “I’m going to try. Things have been a little iffy on my end.” He said with a release of breath. You press the speaker and lay the phone down on the dresser. “Issues at home?’ You question as you reach into the top of your closet to grab your shoes. “Unfortunately. I don’t know man. I mean he’s 6 months old. I thought she would be over this by now.” He said.

You and Eren hadn’t been together when he found out about your pregnancy. And when he finally found out, he was already in a different relationship. It wasn’t the easiest thing for him to get back home and tell his then girlfriend that he had a child with his ex. She initially left him out of anger but eventually came back around to try again. Of course, they were still having their own problems in regards to his relationship with you but he refused to let her be a barrier between him and his son. You and Eren had been on and off for years and were best friends well before then so your relationship was pretty much solid before she ever came along, still that didn't stop her from acting the way that she did. You could see how stressful it was on him some days but you both tried to make the most of it. “Well, Rennie baby, if you want it to work then it will. But things like that can take time. But don't get discouraged. You’re a good man and an amazing father.” You encourage him.

You pull a black bodycon dress dress with a thigh spilt and keyhole neckline out from your closet and press it against your body as you speak. “How is he doing anyway?” He asked “Acting like his daddy. Always making noise and trying to eat anything he gets his hands on.” You tease. “Sounds about right. I miss my little man.” He sighed. You laugh to yourself. “Eren, you literally just saw him yesterday.” “Yeah, and that’s way too long. Where is he anyway?” He questioned. “He is in his crib taking a much needed nap.” You say. The sound of a FaceTime call coming in grabbed your attention. “Damn E, I was changing.” You say as you rush to swipe to answer. “I mean, it’s not like I haven't seen it before.” He teases. “Boy, don’t get cussed out.” You say as his face comes into view on the screen. “Can I see him” he asks. You roll your eyes and walk across the hall to the nursery.

Opening the door slowly you turn the camera around so that he can see into the crib. His face softens at the sight of his son as he snaps a few FaceTime photos. After he is finished, you creep your way back out of the room, “My little man is so handsome. Looking just like his daddy.” He smiles. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re full of yourself?” You remark, propping your phone up on the dresser as you walk back into your closet. “No, but I’ve been told I fill people up. You would know.” He playfully shot back. “See this is why you keep getting in trouble now, that mouth of yours.” You say. “I would respond but I’ll let you have that one, where are you going anyway?” He asked. “If you must know, I have a date.” You say checking yourself over again in the mirror. “A date? With who? Since when are you dating?” he fired off questions. “Okay, first of all, you’re c/n’s daddy not mine. Second, you don't know him. And third, why does it matter.” You respond, placing a hand on your hip.

“Cause I need to know who got you out here in this freakum dress like you grown.” he fussed. “Boy, I am grown.” You laugh. “Yeah, aight. Don’t get no whoopin.” He said. “Been there. Done that.” You teased, sending him a wink. You both start laughing again. “But seriously y/n, you look amazing.” He said gently. “Thank you Rennie.” You smile. You pick up two pairs of your heels and hold them out in front of the camera. “Which shoes?” You ask him. “Nude, you only wear red bottoms for me.” He smirked. You roll your eyes again. “You are seriously a hopeless flirt.” You say as you slip into the nude stilettos with clear straps that he chose. You grab a matching set of earrings and a thin chain necklace to complete your fit. “Okay, final look?” You say to him and you give him a spin. He watched you intently, looking you up and down. “Reeeeen.” You whine, “Serious opinion.” “Seriously?” He questioned. You nod at him. “That. Right there. Is why you’re my baby mama right now, cause damn y/n.” He responded. You shake your head at him as you feel the heat flush your face. “Whatever, I have to get ready and go.” You grab your purse and your phone and walk towards the door.

“If you decide to come by text my mom. She’ll be here with c/n.” You tell him grabbing your keys. You say goodbye to your mother as you walk to your car. “Okay, have fun. Be safe. Let me know when you make it.” He sounded off. “I know. I will. Will you be here by the time I make it home?” You ask him as you open your driver’s side door and get in the car. “Depends on how late you get back so just text me when you’re on the way.” He says. “Okay, I'm going.” You say. “Okay, I love you babydoll. Talk to you later.” He responds. “I love you too E.” You reply. He smiles and blows you a kiss before hanging up. You sit in the driver seat for a few moments, letting out a bittersweet sigh. It’s better this way you remind yourself as you start the car and pull out of the driveway

[inawickedlittletown]

What's In A Name (BuckTommy) - one-shot

Summary: Buck didn't like his name and definitely didn't like other cutesy nicknames…at least not until Tommy uses them

BuckTommy Positivity Week Day 2: nicknames and terms of endearment

Rated: G

Words: 1.5k

@bucktommypositivityweek

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Read on Ao3

The strange thing about being known entirely by what was essentially a nickname given to him because he was the second Evan to arrive on the first day at the Fire Academy, was that his first name felt less and less like his identity. Growing up he’d never had any kind of nickname. His parents called him Evan. Maddie called him Evan. When he got into football the coach had called him Buckley and his teammates had gone back and forth from Evan to Buckley and never anything different. 

During his long trip across the states he was always just Evan. In Peru he was Evan. A unique name for somewhere in Peru that at least seemed to make him interesting. Granted as a foreigner whose Spanish was heavily accented, he would have stood out no matter what. He never stayed anywhere long enough for more than a hookup or two and he never made any promises. Even when he did stay somewhere long, it never seemed to him like anyone wanted him to stick around. 

Despite that, it made him feel a little used and he hated that moment where two or more nights were blending together and calling them “baby” saved him from the possibility of getting a name wrong. Worse, when he was the one being called “baby”, a clear sign of where he stood. 

He grew to hate it as a term of endearment. Cringed the first time Abby said it. Shuddered when Ali called him “babe”. Liked that Taylor called him Buck and never tried to call him Evan much less anything like “baby” or “honey”. To Natalia, he was Buck and maybe even a walking corpse. 

The first time Tommy Kinard said his name, it felt like a revelation. 

“Evan,” he said in a tone that implied a caress, like he was literally tasting his name and giving it some kind of approval. Approval that Buck had admittedly not known he was looking for. 

Any other time, Buck would have corrected with, “call me Buck” but he hadn’t felt the urge. When Tommy said his name it was like he was taking it and clearing it of all the baggage attached to it, like he was giving it new meaning and through that giving Buck new meaning. 

He’d gone from Evan the needy child, to Evan the ranch hand, the bartender, the surf instructor, the vagabond, the guy that thought he could become a Navy Seal. The Fire Academy had landed him on Buck and Buck was a firefighter, he was a hero, he was useful and he had friends that quickly became family. Buck had always felt like more even when Chim was using his name as a verb in a bad connotation. Even then, he was Buck. Tommy turned it around again. He called him Evan and Evan, when Tommy said it, was who he was supposed to be.

The part where he realized that he was bisexual and the part where he realized that it was okay to want and to be wanted for exactly who he was. 

Everytime Tommy said his name, Buck felt like he could soar away because he felt so light and so soft. No one else seemed to understand it. Maddie had been taken aback the first time he heard Tommy say his name, even more so when Buck didn’t react like he usually did. Eddie had been surprised too and Chim had tried to call him Evan a few times before claiming it was weird. Buck had found it weird too when it didn’t come from Tommy. The first time he heard his mother say it since meeting Tommy, it sounded like a screeching chalkboard. Wrong. So so wrong.

Months into the relationship, long after they had defined each other as boyfriends, he thought he’d gotten used to the way it made him feel. Sometimes, it did still catch him unawares, but more and more he was used to it. 

Of course, that was when one more morning in a kitchen lit up perfectly by early morning sun, Tommy turned and said, “Baby, can you pass me the pepper?” 

Buck all but melted right there and then. He almost sent the pepper mill to the ground in his haste and then when he handed it over, didn’t let go immediately.

“Evan, you okay?” 

“You, uh, you called me baby,” Buck said. 

“Oh,” Tommy said. “Sorry, do you not like it?” 

He shouldn’t. He should be reminded of all the reasons why he’d hated it before, and yet he couldn’t forget the way it sounded from Tommy. The fondness. The way it didn’t replace his name as much as it added feeling. It added depth because Tommy said it because he wanted to show Buck that he cared, that he appreciated him. 

“I…I never used to before,” Buck said. 

Tommy smiled easily. He set down the pepper mill after seasoning their eggs. “So you like when I call you baby?” 

“Yes. Yes, I think I do.” 

“Hmm, good. What if I called you sweetheart? Or honey or—”

Buck kissed him about it. He pressed his lips against Tommy’s in what was becoming familiar and no less exhilarating. Tommy moaned into the kiss, pulled him close, deepened it, until they both realized they were in the middle of cooking breakfast. 

“I think you can call me anything at all and I’ll love it,” Buck breathed out. 

“You’re adorable, you know that.”

Buck grinned. “So you’ve said. Is there, uh, anything I should call you?”

Tommy chuckled. “What, is Daddy not enough?”

Buck just smirked, playing with the neckline of Tommy’s shirt. His fingers touched Tommy’s neck. “I mean if you want me to call you that outside of here or my apartment then…”

Tommy kissed him again. “No, baby.” 

“I think I’d combust if I ever called you that in public,” Buck said. 

He didn’t clarify if it was because it would make him hard instantly or because he’d feel so much schadenfreude that he might need to move out of state and start his life all over.  He supposed that depended on who was around to hear it. Buck would never rule out sex almost in any place, but he could admit that things were a little different with men, but not that much. Tommy, though, probably wouldn’t go for exhibitionism. 

“You look deep in thought,” Tommy said. 

“Hmm, maybe I could call you daddy outside of the bedroom, if you like?” 

Tommy rolled his eyes. “Only when appropriate, sweetheart.”

“Yeah yeah…”  

Tommy’s smile was that amused but fond one, the one that made his eyes sparkle. He looked at Buck seriously in the next moment. “Well one day I hope you can call me husband. But for now, you can call me anything you want to. I know I’ll love it.” 

Buck was at a loss for words. He could only stare at Tommy and he was lost to the idea. He and Tommy actually married, exchanging vows and signing the papers and belonging to each other. It hit him how he had never thought about marriage and forever with anyone else. Just Tommy. It was, he realized, because he had never wanted it with anyone else. 

“Evan?”

“I — I want that too. I want that so much. I can’t wait.”

Tommy’s smile matched his own and they shared another quick kiss. Over breakfast they kept smiling at each other and Buck knew that Tommy was imagining their future together too. 

It hadn’t even been six months, but time didn’t matter when you knew and when you wanted something to start. It was especially true when you were aware how easy it was to lose the one you loved. 

“What if…what if I want to call you something else right now?” Buck asked.

“Something else?”

Buck took a breath. He could feel his heart racing. “What if I wanted to call you fiance?”

Buck didn’t know if he’d ever seen Tommy so shocked. Maybe that coffee date after the ruined first date when Buck had invited him to Maddie’s wedding. Tommy had admitted weeks later how sure he’d been that Buck was trying to just let him off the hook easy. 

“Evan?”

“Look we could do it right and one of us could get down on one knee. But we’re not busy today and I’d rather do this together. What do you say? Want to go pick rings out with me?”

When Tommy didn’t say anything, Buck started to feel like maybe he needed to backtrack. He was pushing it too far, running ahead instead of letting things develop naturally. He tried to tamp down the disappointment that settled on him, but then Tommy's fingers were there under his chin. 

“Yes, sweetheart. Yes. Let’s go look at rings.”

“Really? I mean because I know it’s—“

Tommy kissed him and when he pulled back, inches from Buck, he said, “my fiance.”

Buck couldn’t have stopped smiling for anything. 

[loustyleshtommo]

Song Theory of Taylor Swift’s The Tortured Poets Department: Track 28

Because Matty Healy is a stinky red herring. Let me tell you why Track 28 Peter is actually about Louis Tomlinson whose favorite number is 28, and present the evidence that Taylor Swift really said: forget that guy on the chief coming straight home to me. Goddess Karlie can STEP ON ME.

ps. I blame this entire song analysis on Taylor releasing folklore on One Direction’s 10th HBD.

Peter

Forgive me, Peter, my lost fearless leader

“my lost fearless” could refer to Taylor’s second studio album. She lost that masters to Big Machine. Before she announced her re-release of Fearless (Taylor’s Version), Louis released his solo debut album Walls, with a song called Fearless, “Cash in your weekend treasure for a suit and tie, a second wife” seemingly referencing her Lover era (ME! mv) as well as her past relationship with Dianna Agron and her present with Karlie Kloss.

“Now I’m not saying that you could’ve done better. Just remember that I, I’ve seen that fire alight.” Louis knew Taylor was planning to come out and was well on her way to execute that plan before it all went wrong. (Re: The 2019 NYC Pride Parade Outfit She Never Wore)

His song was encouraging her to become that fearless again. To tell her that he knew she tried. But why did Louis have to reassure Taylor? Why did Taylor feel the need to apologize to Louis?

In closets like cedar preserved from when we were just kids.

Both Louis and Taylor were queer kids who got stuck in the closets as soon as they stepped foot onto the music industry scene. It’s not a pleasant place to be. Just listen to the anxiety in Taylor’s voice when she asked “Are we out of the woods?”

Was it something I did?

Who could ever forget the Haylor Winter Romance? One Direction dropped their second studio album “Take Me Home”. During that promo season, Harry Styles and Taylor Swift got papped together a lot. The fandoms were divided. Some fans still believed in Larry Stylinson and/or Swiftgron. But the tabloids insisted it gotta be Haylor. Is it Taylor’s fault that they’re still stuck in the closet today? If she hadn’t participated in handholding in Central Park/NYE kiss/Blue Dress on a Boat, would everything be different today?

The goddess of timing once found us beguiling

Both Louis and Taylor were lucky enough to be in the right place at the right time for their music career to start like shooting stars (Louis: we were lucky once, I could be lucky again.)

The things about “beguiling” is that it doesn’t only mean enchanting/charming, it has the connotation of being deceptive. The goddess of timing did not find them to be truthful.

She said she was trying.

Actual deity is all powerful and rarely has to try. This is such a human quality. This person is comparable to a Goddess but she’s still just a person. I believe that the Goddess of Timing here is Kali, while the person Taylor is calling a Goddess is Karlie.

Kali is a Goddess from Hinduism aka the same place as the concept of karma (who is Taylor’s boyfriend when she wrote the songs. But once she put it out and performs it for the audience, she no longer thinks of the song Karma as her own. In her mind, it already belongs to the fans. And if that’s the kind of entertainment they’re expecting, she will continue to sing “Karma is the guy on the Chief coming straight home to me.” Because the Goddess already sees her as a liar, what difference adding one more lie is gonna make? (Did she forget about the last straw?))

Peter, was she lying?

For the Goddess of time, this is the same question about fame (what Taylor earned with the help of fortunate timing) that Taylor has been wondering about since her first Speak Now era: Never Grow Up (Keep this line in mind, it will come into play later: It’s so much colder than I thought it would be, so I tuck myself in and turn my nightlight on. Wish I’d never grow up. (Such a Peter Pan thing to think.) Continued into RED (Lucky One: Now my name is up in the light. I wonder if I’d make it out alive) All the way to Clara Bow in the tortured poets department. It’s the question that’s been haunting her for ages.

For the person comparable to the Goddess, was Karlie lying? Well, if she really is with Taylor then she’s also very deep in the closet and hiding a core truth about herself. So, yes, she was lying.

My ribs got the feeling she did

This is the line that cements it for me.

This Goddess must be Kali.

And Taylor fancies herself Kali’s consort.

One of the most popular form of Kali is Dakshina Kali. She is typically shown with her right foot on her consort’s chest. It’s a show of his devotion to her.

I got the information of Kali legend from Wikipedia, and this is what THE POETS got to say about the guy at her feet.

Here’s the thing, those who worship Kali are said to be able to overcome death itself. (Honey, I rose up from the death I do it all the time. Reputation is a Karlie album confirmed by a Goddess.)

Another thing about Kali is that she is not just a Goddess of Time. She is also known as Mother Goddess; Goddess of Time, Change, Creation, Power, Destruction and Death. (So basically, the entire theme of the Tortured Poets Department. Damn, girl. Way to talk about devotion.)

Another form of Goddess Karlie Kali with her left foot on her consort, Shiva, is much more violent. She was in uncontrollable rage. To stop her from destroying the entire universe, Taylor Shiva laid down on her warpath. When she stomped on him (and likely hurt his ribs in the process, ouch), she realized with horror that she had gone too far. (Taylor’s The Great War: The worst was over…I vowed, I will always be yours.)

And I didn’t want to come down.

I thought it was just goodbye for now.

The pre-chorus subject will later change from I to We, but the theme of thinking they would have more time keeps coming back around. Taylor still wanted her name up in the light. She thought she would have more time. She thought hiding crucial part of herself was just a temporary thing.

You said you were gonna grow up and you were gonna come find me.

This chorus is why I think the YOU in this song is Louis/Harry. The anxiety-inducing repetition is reminiscent of Out Of The Woods aka the song I believe was written from Louis’s perspective, and also contained one of her earliest blatantly queer-coded lyrics: The rest of the world was black and white but we were in screaming colors.

Said you were gonna grow up and you were gonna come find me.

In the early One Direction days, Louis once admitted that growing old is one of his worst fears. Isn’t that the most Peter Pan thing you’ve ever heard? Taylor be like “I think I’ve seen this film before, and I didn’t like the ending” This is one of the many reasons why I think William Bowery has never, ever, ever been Joe, but rather was actually Louis William Tomlinson (who curses like a sailer so much that infects Taylor. She never dropped f-bomb before she started writing with WB). The ships passing in the night imagery is such a Louis and Harry thing, and Taylor started using it heavily from 1989 onwards. Aka the album she wrote Style and invited the fella over there with a hella good hair to come shake it off.

Said you were gonna grow up and you were gonna come find me.

But can they really shake off the tumultuous emotions of hiding the love of your life like a skeleton in your closets? No matter how many hiding places she knew?

Words from the mouth of babes

Exhibit A to infinity: baby boyfriends

Promises oceans deep

Rope & Anchor, Ship & Compass, Pirates and nautical theme couple tattoos. You name it, they got it. Louis’s Strong and Harry’s Happily lethal combo: My hand, your hand tied up like two ships. I don’t care what people say when we’re together.

But never to keep

Exhibit crying in a cool way:

1D’s Something Great: The script was written and I could not change a thing.

1D’s Story of My Life: Written on these walls are the stories that I can’t explain

Harry horse-noises-and-i-would-lean-towards-no Styles, Sweet Creature who? Never heard of her.

Louis doesn’t-know-what-tattoo-he-got Tomlinson, but this compass is so sweet for pointing home, innit?

Never to keep

How many times are they going to have to deny their love? How many times do they have to parade around with someone else for the camera? How many times do they have to bring up conspiracies and how unfair it is for their loved ones? They keep doing things that practically break a promise of ALWAYS IN MY HEART. Are they doomed to never keeping their promises?

Are you still a mind reader?

It’s not just Louis’s Fearless song before she unlocked the vault to Fearless (Taylor’s Version), just look at the way he wrote lyrics that Taylor clearly had in mind:

Louis in Don’t Let It Break Your Heart: I know you left a part of you in New York

Taylor in Hoax: You knew I left a part of me back in New York

Louis for 1D’s Love You Goodbye: Baby, go on, twist the knife

Taylor in Hoax: my twisted knife, my winless fight

Louis for 1D’s Midnight Memories first leaked: Diana, let me be the one to lift your heart up and save your life. I don’t think you even realize, but, baby, you’d be saving mine.

Taylor in reputation’s Call It What You Want: You don’t have to save me. But would you run away with me? Yes. And keep this line in mind: My baby’s fly like a jet stream.

A natural scene stealer?

I mean, I am very biased. But Louis has always stolen the scene. Whether it be “NO! Jimmy protested” on the staircase, Kevin the Pigeon, it said do not dial 9 so I dialed 9, or when singing/carrying 1D choruses, especially clear in What Makes You Beautiful and Story of My Life a cappella version.

In relation to Taylor, as soon as Haylor officially ended according to tabloid, Louis proceeded to get this giant Swift bird tattoo in his right arm.

And remember the game 1D played for FOUR promo? Louis wasn’t even trying to do anything funny and the universe was like let’s make sure the pulling-words-out-of-hats game has the funniest possible outcomes.

Harry: mine said Louis Tomlinson

Niall: got papped snogging

Zayn: Taylor Swift

*chaos erupts*

Louis: *incredulous laughter*

Harry: *seize the opportunity for the funniest joke ever* I mean, you could’ve told me

Louis: Jesus.

Anyhow, I digress. Niall said without Louis, 1D would be the most boring band in the world.

I’ve heard great things, Peter.

I mean, World Tours/Festivals/Faith in the Future. Yup, great things indeed. But it also implied that they hadn’t seen each other in person for a while. (That’s why I still on the clown train that WB is Louis. They wrote together in lockdown. Nobody was out to see anybody.)

But life was always easier on you than it was on me.

This is where I am extremely dubious of my own clown theory. I don’t believe Louis had it easier than Taylor, especially given how he lost his mom and his sister. But it helps that the next line made it clear which aspect of life she was talking about.

And sometimes it gets me, when crossing your jet stream.

This line really takes Harry out as a contender for being Peter/you. Because he already has his own place here. He’s the “your jet stream”. My baby’s fly like a jet stream. Harry is Louis’s baby. It’s been well-documented in the Larry Stylinson fandom/organization/conspiracy/call it what you want to. 😂

We both did the best we could do underneath the same moon in different galaxies.

Both Taylor and Harry did the best they could do under the same circumstance. From the point of view on earth, there is only one moon. It seems so big and just within reach. But when we zoom out to the level of galaxies, it’s practically impossible to pinpoint the same moon among billions of other celestial bodies. Yet, the dark night cycle for Taylor and Harry is exactly the same. They’re both stuck in the same style of closet from when they were just kids. (Womanizer/Slut aka someone with many different partners, before it shifted to long-term low-key/marriage material themes. Likely due to the songs they kept writing which couldn’t possibly be about one-night stands, no matter which angle anyone look at it. The messages are loud and clear. They are in love and deeply devoted to one person only.) The difference is Taylor didn’t get to meet Karlie before the industry broke her spirit down. (Let all your damage, damage me.) But Louis and Harry have always had each other to rely on. #welivetogetherdealwithit.

Harry was once asked if falling in love is the best part of a relationship. Well, he said he actually believed the best part after that initial rush of infatuation is becoming a team. If that’s not enough to sound like someone in a long-term committed relationship. Harry also has a habit of singing “I’m in love with Lou and all his little things”/ “You’re still the one I run to, the one that I belong to. You’re still the one I want for life.” /“Hopelessly devoted to Lou.”

So, yeah. No wonder Taylor believed life was always easier on Louis and Harry than it was on her. Not even mentioning the things she said on The Man: I’m so sick of running as fast as I can, wondering if I’d get there quicker if I was a man.

And I didn’t wanna hang around.

So Karlie and Harry was seen hanging out once and never again.

We said it was just goodbye for now.

I think Louis/Harry and Taylor/Karlie were always planning to come out at the same time, but that coming out schedule kept getting postponed.

You said you were gonna grow up and you were gonna come find me.

Said you were gonna grow up and you were gonna come find me.

Said you were gonna grow up and you were gonna come find me.

Words from the mouth of babes

Promises oceans deep

But never to keep

Never to keep

It’s the same ol’ shit, just different days. The anxious anticipation and fear of consequences for when they finally come out feel oceans deep. They can’t get rid of it. But they still can’t commit to it 100% either. All they could do was making promises after promises with blatant Easter eggs like Harry running around with rainbow flags on stage, Louis wearing a giant golden H on his chest for his livestream during COVID-19 lockdown, Taylor’s entire Lover era. The list goes on and on.

And I won't confess that I waited, but I let the lamp burn.

I’m gonna let the burning of Lover house in the Eras tour speak for itself. Their plan to come out was a failure time and time again.

As the men masqueraded, I hoped you'd return.

As Taylor kept switching out these Kens, while stuck in the same ol’ closet, she still hoped Louis won’t give up on their plan.

Well, here’s Louis in Just Like You aka the song he announced on National Coming Out Day saying: 25 and it’s all planned.

Did that plan include dropping his album Walls with Come so far from Princess Park & For every question why, you were my because on the last day that Harry was 25 years old? Because that happened.

And here’s Taylor in Lover for Death By A Thousand Cuts: Paper cuts sting from our paper thin plans.

Did that paper thin plan include Taylor releasing ME! on Lesbian’s Visibility Day? Because that happened.

Soon we will see the reason why Taylor would be asking for forgiveness from Louis. But let’s see first what she was hoping for and didn’t get.

With your feet on the ground, tell me all that you'd learned.

Remember Cloud lyrics from 1D: Some days you’re gonna see the things that I see… Never coming back down.

And from Louis’s Walls in We Made It: Never coming down with your hand in mine.

Because the thing about We Made It, is Louis still had to throw in a line for his girlfriend Eleanor. Yes, Harry and Louis made it. But they’re still stuck in the closet, anyway.

'Cause love's never lost when perspective is earned

This is when I realize that Taylor has been tracing the stepping stones, starting from most recent events and making her way back to the start in a non-linear manner. Well, she certainly did called this album a post-mortem study. But exactly whose death are we mourning in this particular song right here?

And you said you'd come and get me, but you were twenty-five

And the shelf life of those fantasies has expired

Lost to the "Lost Boys" chapter of your life

Remember Harry’s “Not That Important”? Or all the Rainbow Bondage Bear and Sugar Baby Bear RBB/SBB shenanigans? Louis and Harry were throwing themselves at the closet door, banging against it and making such loud noises. They wanted so badly to show the world that they’re together while still in the band. That fantasy was one hell of a drug. Especially after Zayn left and they felt like they’ve got nothing left to lose. That was, until Belfast (where a Victorian-styles woodvale park is located, remember that not-an-Easter-Egg-I-promise! in Taylor’s hide-and-seek edition of folklore? Uh huh.) and babygate caged them into ironclad closet. But it wasn’t only just those events and One Direction going on hiatus that ensured Louis was completely and utterly lost.

Louis was trying so hard to make everyone sees that he’s not the father. He was so, so loud about it. So loud that it’s still causing troubles every time he brings up Freddie TODAY. Way too loud to ever be shut down, basically.

Louis was doing everything he could to leave the closet. But in December 2016, he lost his mom and turned twenty-five.

How could anyone expect a grieving boy to have another fight left in him?

Forgive me, Peter, please know that I tried to hold on (hold on) to the days (to the days) when you were mine.

Louis performed Just Hold On for the first time only days after his mom passing. In front of the person who made damn sure he couldn’t be himself under the spotlight. It’s a testament to his strength and I will never stop admiring his resilience. And although Taylor didn’t come through with their coming out plan, someone else made sure to have done the leg work.

Before her passing, Johannah, Louis’s mother, took the time to delete all of Freddie pictures off of her instagram, two weeks after she told Louis that she had terminal cancer.

(How do I know this? Well, it’s a hindsight is 20/20 thing. When Jay did that, fans had no clue she was sick and dying.

Years later, Louis talked about his mom breaking the bad news when he was at Jamie Vardy’s wedding.

And that wedding happened a fortnight before Jay removed all of Freddie pictures.)

Louis’s mom took out the rose thorns and made damn sure her baby boy could walk down their memory lane with the least pain possible. Louis had a great mom who taught him how to get through the darkest nights.

And though it’s not acknowledged so publicly, Louis has had Harry by his side all this time. I don’t think Louis ever needed an apology from Taylor just because they couldn’t complete their plan to come out/“Speak Now” in time for his mom to hear it, too.

Regardless, it’s possible that Taylor still felt really, really shitty for failing to execute their coming out plan as grief-stricken Louis ran out of time. By the time her scathing reputation prologue letter came around (as if inspiration for music is as simple and basic as a paternity test), it seemed Louis was in too deep with the conspiracy from One Direction days to ever be rid of it now. Quite literally lost to the lost boys chapter of his life

But the woman who sits by the window has turned out the light.

And I’m not gonna lie, the sudden reappearance of present tense in descriptive lyrics here gave me a jolt of anxiety. Taylor already released Speak Now (Taylor’s Version) in which she repeated “So I tuck myself in and turn my nightlight on. Wish I’d never grow up.”

See, if we’re sticking with the original story of Peter Pan, Wendy grew up and Peter Pan didn’t. But in this version of the story, our Peter Pan aka Louis had been through such grief that pushed him to grow up first. He’s actually the one waiting now. Wendy aka Taylor had been playing catch up. (Fuck 🛴 for that.) Hence, this present tense about the woman who has turned out the light is the continuation of wait for the signal and I’ll meet you after dark.

By the way, how does the intro sequence of The Eras Tour go again?

It’s been a long time coming. It’s you and me. It’s Fearless. Big reputation. And they said Speak Now. Into folklore. My name is Taylor and I was born in 1989. Hey! evermore. Loving him was red. Meet me at midnight. Nice! Lover.

It’s you and me that’s my whole world. They whisper in the hallway she’s a bad, bad girl.

Taylor started her Eras Tour with Miss Americana and the Heartbreak Prince. The song I believe was written to Louis from Harry’s perspective. “You know I adore you. I’m crazier for you than I was at sixteen.” Corresponding nicely with the song 18 that one of her best friends, Ed Sheeran, wrote for One Direction. The one Louis used to sing as “I have loved him since we were eighteen.” And Harry immediately followed up by screaming “Sixteen!” at the crowd.

You said you were gonna grow up

Then you were gonna come find me

Said you were gonna grow up

You said you were gonna grow up

Then you were gonna come find me

Said you were gonna grow up

This set of repeating chorus above isn’t the same as the other ones before. Can you spot the difference? Here’s the rest of the chorus that actually looks the same as the ones in the beginning.

You said you were gonna grow up

Then you were gonna come find me

Said you were gonna grow up

Then you were gonna come find me

Said you were gonna grow up

Then you were gonna come find me

Both contain six lines, but I assure you, there are differences. The order changed. The last line changed. Devil’s in the details.

Words from the mouths of babes

Here’s the most surreal experience for me as someone who read too much between the lines. In Louis’s own documentary All Of Those Voices, out of all the song he has written, this is the one he chose to play as an opening segment for Freddie, aka his son who is arguably the most controversial and divisive topic in his fandom: Angels Fly.

This is a song about helping someone process grief, from someone who’s already been there before.

In hindsight, Louis’s babygate was a boon of sort. A blessing in disguise, if you will. Fans were so busy tearing this paternity narrative apart. Louis was able to keep quiet about the actual tragedy he was facing. Whatever drama Louis needed to keep his name on the papers, Freddie’s family helped provide it in spade. He was allowed to carve out truly private time to prepare for the inevitable. And when the news of his mom’s sickness broke, Harry was the one who got papped near the hospital that she was staying at. He took that publicity burden off of Louis’s shoulder. If that action did not speak of Harry’s immeasurable love for Louis, I don’t know what else will.

Promises oceans deep

Remember how Taylor almost had to go through the same thing Louis did? With her mom’s diagnosis? On my very first listen of Peter, I felt the same gut-punch of grief as when I heard her Soon You’ll Get Better, or Ronan, or Louis’s Two of Us. It’s the worst kind of heartbreak to recognize. And it doesn’t matter how long it’s been, that pain is edged oceans deep into your soul.

But never to keep

Fortunately, with time, anyone who has experienced such great loss will begin to realize that grief has ebb and flow, like ocean waves. You learned to live with the pain. You start to see silver linings. Maybe you quantify this grief with the size of the moon. So you build a galaxy around it and the eclipse doesn’t seem so daunting anymore.

TL;DR

I think Taylor is 1) apologizing to Louis for postponing their coming out plan over and over again, 2) acknowledging that the fear of consequences for coming out is nothing compared to the grief of losing your loved ones forever, and 3) confirming the plan to come out. Sure, words from the mouths of babes, promises oceans deep but never to keep. However, they’re both grownups now. So remember:

Wait for the signal and I’ll meet you after dark.

And now:

The woman who sits by the window has turned out the light.

Hello, darkness my old friend 👋

Most importantly, Taylor worships Goddess Karlie, byeeeeee.

[teriwrites]

Beyond the Grave: Summer

My Live Reactions to Reading Through My 2021 Novella (pt. 2)

'The spring was short and warm, leading into a summer that promised to be even hotter still. The kind of summer that would leave Isla sweating and unbearably flushed back when she'd been alive. As a spirit, she didn't mind the heat so much, but she'd found herself uncomfortable for other reasons. Namely, Meredith.' (omg just kiss and make up already smh)

'It always came back around to Meredith, for some reason.' like??

She's seriously spending more time worrying about how long it'll take Meredith to forget about her and whether she'll ever forget about her 'friend' (she highly doubts it) than actually anticipating leaving the graveyard

'As it was, all she could do was watch the flowers grow and mourn that she no longer had anyone to bring them to.' okay so, see, now i'm regretting not making more gay jokes earlier

Not really but like, I downplayed any romantic connotations earlier because they were so mild that I honestly thought they'd amount to nothing, but suddenly, we're seeing an emerging attachment that doesn't Have to be read as romantic but Could be

Like she's daydreaming about all the visits she'd make back here and missing Meredith like crazy and she hasn't even Left the place yet

A flower literally just fell into Isla's hair. The wind is giving you its blessing

'The statue was where she always was, but something was different. Most nights, when Isla had made her approach, Meredith would be in the stage of dragging herself from her position as guardian. She would wake, stretching out her stiff joints and greeting Isla with a smile. Tonight, Meredith was as rigid as she'd ever been.' (you're not the only one who gets to rest, Isla)

She leaves the flower at Meredith's feet and drifts back to her grave aww

She shows up the next night with a daffodil

Fun fact: I didn't realize that the 'narcissus' is the same as a daffodil until last year, and learning that broke my brain bc I read a lot of books like 'Anne of Green Gables' and 'The Secret Garden' that would reference narcissi and never knew

Anyways

'You're being stubborn,' Isla pointed out.' you're one to talk

Okay, it's been a week, maybe Meredith Is being stubborn

Isla's now bringing her entire bouquets and addressing her directly to her face

'In life, there had always been something going on that she could talk about. What was there in death, aside from a string of meaningless days? Well, not entirely meaningless.' (gay)

Not LAVENDER growing at the base of Meredith's plinth LMAO

I don't even think I knew lavender's significance with lesbians at the time

(Tbf, maybe I did, but it also might've just been a random flower choice)

Omfg not Isla talking about her life and discussing how she knew she was different from the other girls because they would all chit-chat about boys and husbands and she didn't have any interest in all that

This is getting like too on-the-nose at this point lmao

'Then I met you. You were so steady, and so bright.' ffs Isla do you even know what you want?

(the entire point of this story is that the answer to that question is 'no' lol)

'Isla paused here. She felt like she was careening for a cliffside through the fog, unsure of where it was ahead of her and what would find her over the side.' that's what it feels like reading this, too

'Isla stumbled forwards, plucking a single piece of lavender from the bunch at Meredith's feet. As she reached up to tuck it behind her ear, a hand suddenly lay on her shoulder.' okay there's no fucking way I didn't know what lavender meant, actually

'Looking up, Isla was surprised to see Meredith smiling down at her. It was a sad smile, a smile that spoke of a heavy history that weighed her down. But it was a smile, and it was the most beautiful thing Isla had ever seen, in life or death. 'Good evening, Ms. Newfield.' Meredith's hand was outstretched, and Isla took it, pushing up from the ground. 'I didn't think you were going to answer,' she admitted bashfully.' (this is why I don't write romance anymore - i s2g i forgot there was meant to be any romance until this final section and then just had to try my best to make it work lmao)

There's more, but in the interest of it making me feel kinda nauseous, I will be refraining from sharing the next snippet

Like, this bitch is sitting here trying to remind herself that this is a sad goodbye but is actually thinking of it as a new start smh

'Letting go of Meredith's hand, Isla floated until they were even in height again, and plucked the lavender from behind her own ear, extending it until it was brushing against Meredith's face.' okay firstly, that's SO gay, but secondly, seriously, again with the same-height situation

'I suppose this might be a good-bye gift,' Meredith murmured as she held the lavender to her nose. 'It seems so,' Isla agreed sadly. 'Well, I'll remember you fondly by it.' (i truly have nothing else to add)

The next night, you'll never guess who shows up

'Isla was preparing to head over to see Meredith when a heavy gust of wind sent her back to the grove. Her breath caught, and she struggled against the weight of it as she pinned herself against one of the trees. When the wind had settled a little, she coughed. 'It's good to see a familiar face,' greeted a voice on the wind. The west wind. He had made his appearance at last.' (no waaaay)

'The world is wide. I've had a long journey. Let's not talk of my shortcomings.' The wind rustled in the trees, like a parent ruffling their child's hair.' well that's a lot friendlier than the east wind's version of harassing her

The moment comes for Isla to confirm that she wants to go, and she's suddenly unsure, what a useless lil ghost

'Five.' Isla leaned against one of her trees, wrapping an arm against the trunk and pressing her cheek to its rough bark. Her grove. 'Four.' In her mind, she built castles with moats, and raging rivers filled with crocodiles and man-eating fish. Exciting adventures waiting to happen, just beyond the grave. The west wind could carry her there. 'Three.' Dandelion seeds blew by on the wind, floating past her towards the moor. Flowers and trees, lovely things that could not make a home. They could be found anywhere, but Isla wasn't sure she'd ever care as much for the orchids and baobabs as she did for her dandelions, her daffodils, and her oak. 'Two.' There were kings and queens out there, like the stories she'd heard growing up. Music she'd never had a chance to hear. Inventions that had never crossed into the churchyard. Mankind had been growing, and building, and progressing, and she wanted to see it, to know it, to understand. There were books to read, and markets and courts and wonders beyond anything she knew. Anything she could know, stuck here. 'One.' Meredith. 'Have you made your choice?' Isla looked up and pushed off from the tree. With a smile tugging at the edges of her lips, she stared face-first into the wind and gave a short, decisive nod.' (and roll credits!)

But what does the nod mean????

:)

Ending Thoughts:

And thus concludes the shortest project I've ever written in November! (Technically, I think I wrote a few short stories following this and 'Downstairs, 4 Hawthorn Rd.' back in 2021, but I can't be sure which were written when, so I'm sticking with these two) There's a lot of thoughts I'll probably include in the wrap-up, but I'll just say here: that romance arc really came out of more-or-less nowhere. Would've loved to see a little more build-up lol but then again, it's November, maybe I hadn't decided to include it at all until this section. Who's to say? But if I ever do return to this WIP, just know that these are decisions I would be making Prior to rewriting the draft!

[agentjazzy]

oh wow, it looks like Disney's Primos is coming out - I thought they shelved it!

I showed my parents the trailer, and they immediately said that the main character looks just like I did when I was little lmao, because it's true

Because, like, 1)I'm Chicane, and we have the exact same coloring, 2)I had short hair and braces from ages 9-11, 3)I had many many pairs of jean shorts, 4)glasses, lol, and 5)my mom shaved my unibrow every month when I was little

And then, of course, the premise - when I was 8 I had to live with my cousins for Summer (+ one month of school) before we moved in with my grandparents bc *~*technically we were homeless for several years*~*

How many cousins? Well, first with only 3, but then there were problems, so then we moved in with a different tía, who, at the time, had 7 kids.

(if anyone's curious, I have 20 cousins total, with 1 more on the way)

Being in single 3 bedroom house (with 2 makeship rooms in the garage) with 7 cousins, 4 adults, and my little brother was. Um. An experience.

But anyway, after I showed my parents the trailer, I told them this show was supposed to premiere a year ago but had controversies after the theme song dropped, then I showed them the original theme song to see if anything caught their attention.

And sure enough, absolutely nothing. My mom questioned the nickname Nachos, bc it can sound kinda iffy, but nothing else caught their attention.

(and oh, for context, they both grew up in LA, both growing up translating for their parents)

I showed them some clips of why people hated it, and yeah, they were confused bc they would say "oye primos," not "oigan primos." I guess my grandparents weren't concerned with teaching exact grammar at home, more concerned with making sure that my parents were learning english at school

everyone being mad at "terremoto heights" was um. weird. because we're constantly making earthquake jokes, because we're waiting for The Big One, which we know will inevitably screw us over and possible strand us without water and home if/when it comes. but we still joke about it, you know? my whole class made earthquake jokes, and my parents made earthquake jokes when they were in school and they lived through the LA quakes

it makes me wonder if Animaniacs released their "A Quake" song today, would people have been up in arms as much as they have for Primos?

but I guess changing it is fair, if Disney wants to have an international release. even if making earthquake jokes is part of SoCal culture.

they were really surprised about the nickname controversies, because here in SoCal, those nicknames are like. pretty common. yes, even the one that they ended up changing. it's almost as if words have different connotations in different places..........

ANYWAY the biggest thing is that they agreed that the voice actress was out of line (although they think it's obvious that the "shithole" comment was poking fun at trump and that that was being taken out of context in bad faith) but - and this is an inside joke I'm not gonna elaborate on - makes sense considering her name

(IF YOU'RE A MUTUAL OR A TRUSTED FOLLOWER, if you're curious about the joke, I WILL dm you to explain if you ask)

but yeah. it's obvious that this is Disney's answer to The Loud House and The Casagrandes - that being said, all the vitriol towards this shows seems very unfounded. this show just seems very Chicano, moreso than other things I've seen.

and like, as I've explained here, this show is very, heavily relatable to me specifically. none of my white friends understood the pains of living with a bunch of your wild cousins - but multiple of my Chicana friends did. at different schools districts even.

it's just... a lot of the things people are shouting is "bad representation" is literally just... my life. And, apparently, the creator's life, considering it's based on her childhood.

I think it's nice that she made a show about Chicano culture. It does suck that apparently no one knows or even seem to want to know what Chicano culture is.

I just can't help but to wonder if I ever make something about my life, my lived experience... will people call me bad representation? idk.

anyway, I'll probably check the first few episodes out. I'm not sure I'll watch the whole series, since, lately, Disney's shows have been kinda a miss for me. but maybe I'll be surprised. I'm willing to give it a shot

[olderthannetfic]

Sometimes I think about that time when I found a fic that clearly followed the plot of a fic written by astolat. A fic she written over 10 years ago, but still.

I made a comment saying, hey, this seems super similar to another fic I’ve read. did you get inspired by astolat?

And they said, ok yeah. Sorry, forgot to mark it as a remix. My bad, it’s fixed.

But I wonder if that author really did make a mistake, or were they trying to plagiarize astolat before getting caught? I’m not a fic writer, so I’m asking is forgetting to mark a fic as a remix actually an easy mistake to make?

Ps The notes says the fic is self-indulgent and written in just an hour, which makes me suspicious. “Self-indulgent” has the connotation that it came from only you, “written in an hour” makes me think you read it and rewrote it on an hour.

Do I have something, or am I just reading too much into this?

--

I think you have something, but I also wouldn't worry about it. Ideas are cheap. Execution is what matters.

I periodically run across fics where it looks like torture, but really, the characters are just undercover and it's a BDSM thing (little do the bad guys know). And one of them demands the other as payment at the end to get them out of there. I've written something more or less like this myself, though not pre-negotiated.

And if I know the author, I'll be like "So... that one QuiObi fic?" and they'll be like "Fuck yes!"

Unless I actually dug up what the hell the name of that fic was, reread it, and copied it a lot more closely, I'd never bother crediting it for such a basic trope any more than I'd credit the trope where one hero is like "What monster came up with this villain's trap???" and it turns out to be from the other hero's trashy novels.

(It's The Jewel of the Nile. It's always The Jewel of the Nile. In my fic. In every other Sleuth of the Ming Dynasty fic. Seriously, it's always this movie. An entire generation of viewers imprinted on that damn joke.)

Granted, this sounds like it was a lot more than just one trope, but even whole plots are a dime a dozen.

It wouldn't be surprising if they didn't think credit mattered that much or if they thought everyone would notice anyway because astolat is popular. Or maybe they were trying to get away with some shit. But even then, I can't work up much emotion over it because it's not the facts of astolat's plots that make people like her fic: it's the sum total of how she writes them.

I'm trying to think about why I don't usually care about this when I do care about the kind of nonfiction idea theft Hbomberguy did that video about. I think it's because most cases of the latter involve significantly more research to come up with the nonfiction idea, so there's a lot more pretense of intellectual work and originality. The plagiarist is citing the original researcher's sources as though they found them on their own.

For fiction, unless it's a barely-rephrased version of the original, it feels like much of the work was the actual writing of the prose, and the second author did do that themselves. They might have first encountered the tropes in a particular fic... but they weren't exactly very original there either.

I might feel differently if I read the actual fic in question though.

[swallowedbyfandom]

(Card with bouquet of yellow carnations)

Mr. B. Bridgerton,

After over two decades tied to one man riddled with vices, please be assured I am not in the market for another.

I implore you to never speak to me again. It is not necessary for us to do more than exchange polite greetings.

I rebuke you in the name of Jesus.

Never again,

Lady Featherington

Ben!

Did you take some of Colin's Grecian tea, again? What on earth did you do, to make Portia Featherington send you such a harsh message? Kate and mother literally winced when they saw the floral arrangement!

Did you make some sort of sexual overture at her? I cannot emphasize enough, how bad an idea it would be to take Portia Featherington as a mistress. Can you imagine the horrors Penelope and Colin would inflict on you?

You should avoid mother for a while. Lady Featherington sent her a letter to clear up any confusion. Mother did not share the letter but she was mortified and muttering darkly under her breath after reading it. Be wary, brother.

Wishing you were a civilized being,

Ant

Dear Violet,

I am hoping to clear up any issues before they arise. I AM NOT, I REPEAT, NOT INTERESTED IN TAKING YOUR SECOND SON AS MY PARAMOUR. I am aghast that your ridiculous boy seems to believe I am the sort of Lady who would go around inviting children into my bed! Heavens, the hubris of your son to think a friendly gesture is some sort of covert invitation.

Yesterday I gave your Benedict a pillow the midwives recommended Penelope use after birthing the twins. She had an extra one here. My thought process was that be could use such a thing to ease his discomfort. He kept squirming about his seat when he waited for Colin and the twins to join us for tea. I only meant to be a good host! Your whore son began a long winded spiel on how given his recent injury he did not believe we could possibly perform such an illicit act together. When I politely asked what in all of creation he meant, your son proceeded to wax poetic about such filth. I was forced to flee my own home in sheer horror. It is unspeakable Violet. I do not know what type of people your son has learned such depravity from but I want no part of it.

I have taken six baths and gotten completely foxed thrice and still I cannot rid myself of the shame of hearing such blasphemy. What the hell is wrong with your son? I shall pray for his soul.

Regards,

Portia

Benedict Benjamin Bridgerton,

When I get my hands on you! I shall wash your mouth out with soap. I will not protect you from whatever justified, revenge Lady Featherington is currently plotting. If Portia Featherington of all people deemed something utterly unspeakable, I know whatever you said must be truly appalling.

I feel it only fair to warn you that Portia asked Penelope for Eloise's current mailing address. I am positive you deserve whatever those two are going to plan for you. I s it too much to ask for a single season without scandal? How am I to ever marry you off to a decent lady? If you insist on behaving like a feral Tom cat in heat?

I am sure I will regret asking however, what did you think the pillow meant?

Regretfully,

Your mother

Mother,

This is all an awful misunderstanding. I assumed that if she managed to keep Lord Featherington out of the brothels for a solid decade then she must be more adventurous then she appears. How was I to know she did not realize what her gesture meant?

I am a Gentleman I would never have spoken on such a topic if I knew she was innocent on such things. I would have simply warned her that her gesture had different connotations in certain circles. You must understand that such pillows are often used for recovery after a rather taboo act.

I will apologize and make amends as soon as possible. I am currently going to look at some properties in the country. I am dodging Colin's attempts to avenge Lady Featherington's honor. I will keep in touch.

Love,

Ben

Ben,

You can run but you cannot hide. The longer you drag this out the angrier I shall become. My wife is with child once more, so I cannot be distracted by hunting you down.

Let us handle this quickly and quietly. Name a time and place so that I may punch you in your mouth.The punch is nonnegotiable. You accused my mama of wanting to engage in acts of sodomy with you! You absolute scoundrel. She is our family! There is no earthly reason for you to believe she would ever offer you such a thing!

Disguised with you,

Col

Ant,

Please send me the invoice for the replacement of all of Benedict's trousers, when it comes in. I am ashamed to admit that in a fit of hormonal anger I may have broken into Ben's home and cut the crotch out of every pair of trousers he owns. I am sure his staff will soon discover my misdeeds and send word to you.

Can we please keep this quiet? I am terribly embarrassed to have reacted in such a childish manner.

Shamefaced,

Pen

Sister,

I so adore your mischief. Think of it no more, that is a hilarious prank. I shall have new trousers commissioned but I will leave the altered ones in place so he can discover them himself.

Do not concern yourself with the invoice. Benedict can afford to pay for his lapse in good sense.

Fondly,

Ant

[spamtoon]

DCRC PKNA Week 11--Silicon Time!

thankfully our little book club break has meant i've had enough time to rest, get into what is potentially a new hyperfix, and feel motivated to read paperinik! ...and um ducks on the road. at some point that's not now.

you know what. im feeling ultra relaxation for this issue let's go to the cove. nevermind i got distracted and entered the pizza parlor

angus fangus cosplay

starting off and first of all i have to say dear lord. the airport experience is indeed horrendous as someone who has been on an airplane recently the sign "clogged toilets delay flights" baffled me. like i understand why but im also like okay. the toilet is clogged. there are two toilets per plane surely the line woudlnt get that long

im gonna be real i thought big nosed human guy was gonna be exclusive to silicon. like i didnt think he would just. also show up here

the idea that angus fangus hasn't had a day off makes me wonder like. was the new zealand thing last issue technically a work trip despite the fact he was there to save his tribe. because if so that rules

it's nice getting to see scrooge again despite the fact he's probably gonna be written out of the story. i missed him

thought he was wiping his sweat with his money for a second here i'm goign to be so honest. and in the second panel he's sillouetted for no reason it amuses me. i mean i know why hes threatening to ruin donald and uno's situationship but he doesn't know he's doing that

i love you chilling in purple shirt donald

i love their little dumb mirco-bickers. they're so domestic

rip to whatever italian pun was lost in translation here. unless there was no pun and donald is just like ughhhhhhhhhh because he does not care

hi little drink serving robot... these things did exist in the 90s but they were very very basic and mostly for flash. which is why it would absolutely get on the news when the only other news is its hot. donald's pose and uno's response is also so cute im. who would have expected comic silicon would have Uno Content

ohohohohoho... oh no, how tragic! how tragic it would be if a certain robot enjoyer skipped to the next town over for this specific day--nevermind he's on vacation too he's at the supervillain convention in florida (SORRY)

cog these car panels are cool... i am once again praising paperinik action moments

rest in peace all the computers at duckburg technofinancial im glad they at least got a viking funeral

it feels so werid to see angus fangus in a tank top and shorts. he belongs in a trenchcoat. and i just

the way he gazes into the distance makes this panel feel so much more contemplative than it actually is i love it

i love how the evronians have a whole division that's job is just. to deal with xadhoom. who is presumably killing evronians off camera all the time

i hope its a story where its the computer in the tower that did it like we saw in the start but he's just messing around. he's just like hi uno!!! :) remember when ducklair made you i was there when you were born uno and he's like oh BROTHER this guy STINKS !

:// i know the computer literally said the evronians might be useful but like i saw computer wanting to use the spore hatchlings and i was so dissappointed. especially disappointed that he wants to shut uno down. i think. at least i assume its a computer hence the name silicon if it was silicon and it wasnt even a computer there was a guy in front of it i would be SO dissappointed but im pretty sure its the first ducklair sentient technology at this point

i have absolutely zero thoughts about this robot rhyno thing its just an important enough detail i have to bring it up. actualy i do have a thought and its look at him. he's so fucking stupid looking. neutral connotation ITS FUCKING DUE AGAIN? FUCK OFF DUE. i gaslighted myself into thinking we were gonna get a different computer but no. okay. alright

of all the villains to figure out donald's secret identity im so. two. of course. not that he's going to get it i dont know if they'd go that route but

im gonna be so real after his introduction issue i fulyl expected them to never use due again

this panel si so dramtic (i LOVE the rainbow windows) but out of context its just like TWO !!!! im so mad

i know its the 90s but i like how it was confirmed later in ducktales 2017 if due did launch donald like that it wouldn't have done anything as long as he thought about the triplets (or maybe uno in this case) hard enough. our bravest man on two worlds... (yes i know they're different donalds)

IM SO MAD donald just kinda handwaving away the duck avenger's inveolvement. they hate each other so much

im so mad the way he's just. at channel 00 news now. due and the evronians deserve to be fighting each other for a while i think

and that was silicon!! i enjoyed seeing more of uno but i was disappointed the computer turned out to be. due again. but maybe im just a little loser who always wants a new robot OOPS i miss lyla lay hopefulyl we see her next issue considering we're going back to channel 00. hoepfully she had a really good vacation while this was all giong on

[yomiurinikei]

hibiki for the ask meme (annie)

I TYPED ALL THIS UP FOREVER AGO THEN. never uploaded it. it’s just been in my drafts.

cw for mentions of the god awful ship (not /pos and it’s not brought up by name) + brief mentions of her canon trauma and my desire for it to be handled differently (not in depth/explicit)

everything after this read more was written forever ago i don’t even really recall what’s there i just skimmed it for cws

hi annie!!!!! we have the same brain huh (both asked for biki..)

my identity hc for them

just a little girl. uhhhh ya okay. obligatory 'this is an au where things were. not good but Better' disclaimer, im gonna handle this whole post under the context of. i do what i want and what i want is for hibiki to be okay. she's still a system just because of abuse at the hands of her parents which was exacerbated by kanade being toxic. not uh. yeah.

aaaanyways. she's very nonbinary to me!!! i think she likes like.. all the labels. nonbinary trans genderqueer and one hundred million thousand microlabels. she prolly rbs a ton of incoherent "i am like if a bead rolled underneath a industrial refrigerator before eventually being sucked up into a vacuum, slipped out of the garbage onto the ground where it slowly sunk into the earth was a girl but also not a girl" posts.

also i think she's questioning her sexuality/how she experiences attraction but she like. loves loves having qpps. to her its like... a great sign of friendship but also she wants to signify that shes very close with a lot of people. its a high honor but not a rare one to receive. her relationship with it is just like. i have someone who is very dear to me but without any sort of romantic or familial connotations how lovely and cool this is, how happy it makes me <3. she's just chilling!!!

Thoughts on their home life/family

ooogh. okay. actually i never included this in the ask meme. mm,,, how do i want to handle this. hm. i thiiink.. hibiki and kanade deserve some time to be estranged from each other. obvi this is again, within how i choose to write them. so i dont think this will be a relatable take. buuuut yeah. sometimes the best thing for siblings is to not be siblings for a bit. if anyone asks they just share a last name but have no relation. i think that would be good

i have a very normal relationship with my siblings (<- only child who used to be a younger sibling. that is what i am choosing.)

How i feel about their canonical writing/handling

mmmm,, she is so so so fucking system and i really wish she belonged to anyone but linuj. do u guys remember when i said hm maybe the otono twins were abused by their parents and thats why kanade took control of the situation by hurting the one person she could who would always have to be around her? and then a few months later linuj was like oh kanade is just born evil shes inherently bad because i think thats fun and cool^^ ? i remember. i remember very well.

i think,, hibiki was just ultimately underused. and like. it sucks and was bullshit what happened but also i Understand it within what it did narratively. even if i think linuj kinda dicked up the way it couldve affected the tone of the game. buuut. really the largest disservice that happened was like. the way she ultimately had no agency. according to linuj, no matter what, kanade would be Like That, and hibiki would get hurt, and the end. im not saying what happened to her was her fault, thats not what i mean when i say she has no agency, i mean. there was no in universe reason for what happened, not at the end of the day. she was doomed from conception in and out of universe and it just sucks and makes her feel flat because u cant even go what if not without completely ignoring the way linuj writes a wholeass character. hoping that all makes sense?

buuut yeah. tldr. she couldve been vv well written and handled well, even with her ultimate fate staying the same. but by admitting there's absolutely no way hibiki could have made it out okay, not even a "well, the cards would never line up like this, but if x had happened, and then y, then kanade would've fucked off", but making it that no matter what, kanade is gonna do what she did. it just kinda leaves a bad taste about things

The one thing i’d want to make canon about them

she actually is a person who exists outside of what kanade did <3. yes she has that puppet state sure whatever but also she's part of a system and has alters and one of them is "puppet state" but the others have hopes and desires and likes and etc etc.

My number one favorite ship for them

going off earlier, just assume all these ships are qpps <3! her and setsuka have a really fun relationship. cop out answer but ya know

…Now everyone else i ship with them

i like sora and hibiki!

The thing i will NEVER ship

ignoring the Obvi. i can’t think of anyone? again using ships here to mean like. hibiki having bestie-isms, i think she’s p shippable. she’s fun and friend shaped!

a dynamic/relationship i wish was explored more (in canon, or in fandom)

uhhh i agree w/you she and nikei would be silly. they deserve to be character who is like :D but is then like D:< together.

thoughts on their design (appearance-wise)

hair so pretty eyes so pretty. kinda weird colors

A music-related thought- a song that reminds me of them, or what their music taste is, etc

dreamin chuchu always makes me think of her i cannot explain why

[byjillianmaria]

For that uncommon questions for OCs and their creators ask, 42 for Cleo, 35 for Isobel, 20 for Noah, 19 for Rhiannon, 13 for Declan, 25 for Zander, 32 for Andrea, 37 for Ayla, 34 for Kass, 22 for Dinah, 43 for Judith, and F for you?

Thank you for asking!!

42. How badly do they want to reach their end goal?

This is actually a very interesting question for Cleo! At the beginning of the story, she's heading out to film her movie The Widow Ghost, but from the beginning she's very apprehensive about it, and wondering if she should call it off. The only reason she's sticking with it is because her cousin and co-director Noah is insisting on it.

35. How do they treat the things their friends come to them excited about? Are they supportive?

Oh man, Isobel is THEE hype-woman! She loves it when her friends are excited about things, especially artistic things, and loves getting to watch people chase after their dreams! She wants all of her friends to have the same faith in themselves that she has for herself, LOL.

20. If they were asked to explain the difference between romantic and platonic or familial love, how would they do so?

I feel like Noah would be deeply uncomfortable with this level of sincerity, LOL. "Dude, I don't know, where did that question come from?"

19. What is their favorite number?

Rhiannon hates superstition, so she'd balk at the concept of any sort of lucky number. However, there's something weirdly satisfying to her about prime numbers.

13. What color do they think they look best in? Do they actually look best in that color?

Declan loves a good monochrome moment, especially grays and blacks, but with a lot of sparkle... so, like, glittery silvery eyeshadow, a sweater with a shiny element, that sort of thing. Beauty is subjective but it does suit him.

25. What are their thoughts on marriage?

He and Andrea are currently saving up for an engagement ring! It's a matter of when, not if. He's head over heels for her, and wants to spend the rest of his life with her, and knows that she feels the same. They've talked about it a lot and at this point the phrase "when we're married" is very casually thrown around.

32. Do they have a go-to story in conversation? Or a joke?

Andrea works at a pizza place and will regularly share stories about weird customers who come in. Especially guys who try to hit on her. "Sir... this is a Wendy's generic pizza place."

37. Do they have a system for remembering names, long lists of numbers, things that need to go in a certain order (like anagrams, putting things to melodies, etc)?

Alya honestly just naturally has a good memory for things like that, I think. She does like to write things down as opposed to typing them, because something about the analog method "locks in" the information better.

34. How hard is it for them to shake a sense of guilt?

For Kass, guilt is like grief, in that it never really goes away. It was taught to her young, after all. She's mostly made her peace with it, and sees it as a part of who she is, just like any other emotion. She also recognizes that just because she feels something doesn't make it true. But some days are, of course, harder than others.

22. How does jealousy manifest itself in them (they become possessive, they become aloof, etc)?

Dinah isn't a very jealous person, honestly. She just wants her loved ones and herself to be happy. She is quite possessive in her own way, but her respect for those she cares about tempers it.

43. If someone asked them to explain their sexuality, how would they do so?

tw: homophobia

Judith would be very suspicious of anyone asking her to explain that, haha. Homegirl lived during the early 1900s, after all. But if she were able to approach that question in good faith, she'd call herself a lesbian, negative connotations and all. To my understanding, lesbianism would have been considered a mental illness at that time, but she would have taken that as a matter of course. "If this makes me mad, then call me mad. I don't care, as long as I can love her."

F) What do you feel when you think of your OC (pride, excitement, frustration, etc)?

Depends on the OC. But, mostly, there's a sense of pride and fondness. I love watching them grow from concepts into complex people!

[vidavalor]

Thank you again for the stills of the wine bottle in this scene. Here are the thoughts I said I'd add in.

Unlike I believe Aziraphale's wine from Chateauneuf-de-Pape from S1 and definitely unlike Crowley's favorite whisky, Talisker, this label doesn't exist. Good Omens made it up, as best as I can tell. There was not and is not a real vintner named Chenevel Rouge, which indicates they wanted to create an original label so they could do what they wanted with it, symbolically, and seems they did...

"Chenevel" is a common alternate spelling/misspelling (demonic and human misspellings!) of the French word "cheneval", which is a derivative of "cheval", which means "male horse/stallion". (Adult female horses have a separate word in French-- "jument".) "Rouge", I think we all know, means "red." Depending on whether or not the "Rouge" is part of the brand name or describing the type of wine or both--and the label makes it seem like it could be either, probably the latter-- the wine, in English, would likely be called Stallion or Red Stallion. A bit like... its drinker in this scene...*fans self like Mrs. Cheng*

Want to say here that we're all aware that Crowley is genderfluid so I'm not saying that correlating him to the wine here when the words for the animal the wine is named after are gendered is trying to say that Crowley isn't genderfluid. It's more that when he's male-presenting while he's human-presenting, this is related to those aspects of him. (Also, I'm using he/him for Crowley in posts because that's what Aziraphale uses and I figure he'd know and care to use whatever Crowley wanted. He was quick to use 'they' for Muriel and he's lovely so... but yeah, should Crowley's pronouns ever be established as different in the story, I'll happily change it.) Back to horses...

Ok, so why horses though? An animal that doesn't seem to have a huge showing here in Good Omens so far? Fair warning that some of the reasons are kind of horny, tbh lol. Not expecting a lot of complaints but yeah lol. The show is using the French-- and so, gendered-- word for 'horse' here in such a way as to make it refer exclusively to male horses is to be nodding to male genitalia. Here is also where I'll throw in that "cheneval"-- the word that is what the label is going for but misspelled by a letter-- translates to "pipe." Ahem. You all seeing what we're saying when we're calling him-- I mean, the wine! the wine-- Red Stallion, right? Ok, good. Less randy symbolism (slightly lol)...

Crowley is already, in part, an animal in Good Omens. He's a snake. It's against his will and a feature of his Fall. Snakes are symbolically perfect for Crowley because they have a combination of extremely positive and negative connotations in different cultures-- they really do represent him well-- but Crowley didn't choose it. There is actually nothing to suggest that Crowley really *likes* being a snake. We've really only seen him as one twice-- back in the Garden of Eden and once, briefly, when he transformed himself into a monstrous mostly-snake-thing to scare the guy in the paintball scene. Interestingly, Aziraphale says "well, you were a snake" when Crowley tells him that he's changed his name in Golotha away from the "skirming at your feet-ish" "Crawley" that wasn't his choice. It's the past tense that interests me there. Yes, Aziraphale is referring to how Crowley was in snake form in Eden most of the time but his use of past tense in the name-change-mention scene, plus Crowley wanting to change his name to get away from being the Serpent of Eden makes me think that Crowley is a snake who isn't really super into it. Like how he chose a new name in "Crowley", at some point along the way, he picked up the idea of affiliating himself with horses.

So now insert here every horse thing you've got, symbolism-wise. Horses are humanity's eternal companions. They're majestic and beautiful and resilient. Wild, untamed, unbreakable. Easily spooked. Known to retain their trauma and not trust easily easily if given reason to doubt. Yeah, this wine named to symbolize its drinker feels pretty accurate in symbolism for Crowley, yeah?

We were supposed to get a Wild West flashback in S2 which *undoubtedly* would have featured horses in some way as it would be literally impossible to do a story about the American West without them, which also means adding in the American-ness of horses in symbolism in things. Crowley often affiliates with cultures built out of rebellion against oppression or that have an anti-monarchist culture-- America, Scotland, etc.. If they decide to put that into S3, we might get more context there but there's still plenty here already. Horses from other parts of the show?

Well, there's that amusing bit in The Globe Theatre scene...

Aziraphale saying he has to go to Edinburgh soon to do a blessing and complaining that, apparently, he'll have to ride a horse. Crowley responding with a grimace and "hard on the buttocks horses are... major design flaw, if you ask me" and indeed, Crowley.

Save a horse and ride a demon, Aziraphale.

Most significantly, there's the horse statue in S2 in the bookshop that Crowley puts his glasses on.

Adding the second gif because you can see the statue up close in that one and... apparently, this is Aziraphale's answer to Crowley's "fighting" angel and demon statue from S1 because, um, well, I can't be the only one who only saw the horse when they were first watching, can I? Crowley leaves his glasses on the animal-free-man-shaped-being "mounting" the stallion statue when he's in the bookshop and the wine is French for male horse ok apparently, I'm a demon and I lied and this is just all horny because *they are, okay?* It's their bloody fault lol.

Right, so, I have no idea when the whole Crowley-is-a-horse thing started between them but it was happening sometime prior to 1938, since that's the other thing you mentioned wanting thoughts on. I attempted to see if this is the same wine they're drinking in The Blitz, Part 2 scenes but the label wasn't clear enough for me to be able to tell. 1938 is probably the best year possible for a wine vintage that is tied symbolically to S2-- especially this part of S2-- because it was the last "normal" year of history before The Nazis invaded Poland in 1939 and WW2 began. This isn't to say it was a peaceful utopia because wars don't just break out one day-- they're built on conflicts that have been on-going for ages until they boil over and the Nazi party was MAGA-ing their way through Germany for ages before WW2 began. But 1938 was the last days of life before the war began. The war in human history-- a large-scale, global, nuclear conflict before it was all over that could have ended the world. The moment when Crowley is drinking this wine in the restaurant is the 1938 of our story in S2-- it's literally while Aziraphale is arranging The Ball that will result in them being separated before the night is over, on the eve of the end of the world with The Second Coming, and they don't know it. Just as no one in 1938 Europe believed they were going to be dodging bombs a hot minute later.

I did a little research on the quality of wine in France that year for kicks because I'm not a wine expert, nor am I rich enough to afford a 1938 bottle of anything. It turns out that it was a pretty terrible year for wine in France and across most of Europe. This is interesting because Crowley and Aziraphale have been drinking wine since wine was invented and if Crowley was looking to order a bottle purely for taste alone, he'd just tell Justine to give him something drinkable and maybe a little of what he likes in a wine and let her pick something out. (I'm not even sure that he didn't miracle the wine. Marguerite's carrying a 1938 vintage is a maybe.) Ordering/miracling a bottle of 1938 wine and then getting Aziraphale's attention and asking him if he wants a glass... it all says the *symbolism* of the wine was what Crowley was going for. He didn't just order wine, he ordered *this* wine, specifically. Or miracled it up or whatever. Mah point is that he was making a gesture with wine.

He realized from what Nina had said to him that Aziraphale acts in love with him to her-- so, to the humans. Aziraphale being in love with him is not news to Crowley. They've known since 1941. In some ways, they've always known but they found a way of expressing it as directly as they're capable during The Blitz and had a talk about not pursuing it beyond what they already had in 1967. After S1, they had gained a little room to breathe but the threats of Armageddon 2.0 and Heaven and Hell were still out there. They were pretending less but still not really being able to be as open with one another as they'd like to be. Nina's observation prompts Crowley to recontextualize Aziraphale's actions of late and look at them from her perspective and he starts to wonder if maybe Aziraphale might be trying to say he wants more. They don't know how to talk in anything but their own little language so Crowley approaches him in that language.

The French restaurant. Aziraphale loves the French. Language of love. Paris, 1793. Sits there amongst the ivy and the roses and the twinkle lights and all the romance of the place-- has moved from sulking in loving long-suffering earlier on the bench alone while Aziraphale did his thing to getting a table. Whistles coolly to get his attention and draw him over and asks him if he wants a glass. Very suave-- he's all proud of himself. The bottle's right there. It gives very come sit with me in the date restaurant, angel, and drink with me the Red Stallion French wine circa the last peaceful year of the era when we first found a way to show each other this wasn't just friends or just sex but that we'd fallen pretty humanly in love with one another.

It's not getting a drink. It's a date.

The miscommunication, of course. S2 is full of them, though this isn't an entire washout, communication-wise. Aziraphale says he's at work and he has a meeting to prepare for. Crowley drinks some more in disappointment. The irony being that Aziraphale is preparing for a meeting that is really a ball because he wants to make a romantic gesture of his own. Crowley doesn't know that yet, though, and it all goes much worse than this moment in the restaurant does. They get to dance-- and that's no small thing for them-- but the demons crashing the party kind of ruined Aziraphale's whole fantasy of a romantic evening.

Before all that, though, he sits with Crowley for a moment, despite his tasks, likely because something clicked in his mind enough that he saw Crowley disappointed, the romance of the place, the wine, and whether or not he truly got that Crowley was like please sit down, angel, and we'll see if we get to just have a nice afternoon date or if it also evolves into asking you to marry me as honestly it's fifty-fifty which one at this point... or whether he was just like oh, look at my beautiful demon and the picture he makes-- c'est une image romantique, magnifique... Aziraphale sits down and Crowley's like so actually I haven't slept all night because I was worried Gabriel's going to pop up outta Jim and murder us so okay maybe this won't be the proposal we'll see if we can do that another time... every damn time we try the romance and not just the hanging out and shagging we wind up having to deal with threats of death, angel, it's *stressful*...

And yet, still, he's trying his best to flirt while talking about the stress of it. He absolutely knows how to past tense the word 'smite' and is just using it because they've spent their afternoon flirting using language. Aziraphale's plume of his imaginary tante is what they were talking about when Nina observed Aziraphale in love and, in a way, Crowley's just wanting to trigger more of it so he goes full Good Omens and goes on about a word that has multiple meanings. Gabriel could smite him-- to attack him, to cause him bodily harm-- and that's the same word as smitten, which means strong attraction and is what he feels for Aziraphale. (The French in the scene that triggers this one involved use of the French "plume", which also has multiple meanings. Crowley translates it as meaning "pen" but it also means "feather" and there is a third, related meaning in Good Omens-- it's what the angels called the pink energy cloud of power that set off the alarm bells in Heaven.)

Even Crowley saying he doesn't know the *past* tense of it is another nod to their long history and The Blitz and romance and he sets it up so that Aziraphale will have to say "smitten" to answer him and he lets Aziraphale see it all coming from a mile away and look at him with exasperated fondness, all yes, Crowley, I see you trying to romance me, very nice, you are doing a lovely job but now you're tipsy atop your anxiety and why don't you go to the bookshop and have a nice nap under a nice sunny window while I go finish arranging my own romantic attempt for, um, Maggie and Nina, of course...

Yes, I love you, dear. Smitten. Madly. Now please go to the bookshop safe space I made for you and talk it out with our former-attempted-murderer-turned-new-best-friend and then take a nap because I'm going to need you at full horsepower for dancing and other things later...

The wine that Crowley drinks after the "I know what you are" convo with Nina is a 1938 Chenevel Rouge.

Chenevel Rouge.... if you rearrange the letters you can spell these words: urgence he love.

Urgence is an archaic form of urgency.

Is this something is this a ✨️Clue✨️ or am I losing it send crepes send help.

(Chenevel Rouge also sounds slightly like evil red dog in French.)

[verdantmeadows]

I really love Dark Pit x Pit but their ship name is incredibly unfortunate (it is Pitc3st but the 3 is an e, I censor it so it doesn't show up in tags) because it gives the impression that it's incest (it isn't) and I wouldn't really call it selfcest but selfcest-adjacent since they are distinctly different people but inherently tied to each other. I'm assuming it is called that because of their similarities/from selfcest because I haven't seen anyone ship them while viewing them as brothers as well. It's just a ship that reminds me of other ships I love (Red x Blue and Shadvi0 from the Four Swords manga, Shadowp3ach, O9O9, M3tagala, puzzl3shipping, and a few others I'm probably forgetting).

(And that's an entirely separate issue, there's some selfcest or similar type ships I love, but I HATE the word selfcest because of the -cest thing as someone who has incestual trauma. So many people will then go to argue that selfcest IS "problematic" because of the word, when it's like, I did not choose that word, it's a portmanteau in very poor taste that has aged badly and needs to change. But selfcest is something that literally is impossible in real life and doesn't reflect on anything negative. Most "selfcest" or similar ships I have are ones I love because I headcanon them as system relationships. But this is an entirely separate issue.)

Anyways, I just feel embarrassed and almost ashamed because many people headcanon them as brothers (which is totally valid!) but that is just a headcanon and not canon, but it's so fanon to the point if you suggest otherwise people will say you ship incest, and they use the ship name as a way to further their point. Which like... ahh!!! No!!! I didn't choose that ship name! If I thought they were brothers I wouldn't ship them!!! I have really bad intrusive thoughts related to stuff like incest, and so the idea that people think I enjoy that stuff or ship it makes those thoughts even worse. I don't want people to think I like that and I don't want them to think I ship the two of them while seeing them as brothers. It's just something I've been paranoid about lately because recently I accidentally posted something that had incest in it and I didn't realize. I honestly don't really care what other people do, but for myself and my spaces, incest can be a trigger for me and ships that are like that can make me feel bad and trigger a lot of intrusive thoughts for me.

Anyways anyways this is why I'm calling them Pipittoo, it's so cute and adorable and is free of any negative connotations. This just ended up being a rant and vent post in one kind of.