#done solely with tumblr suggestions

[teainthesnow]

this was way too much fun actually

[click image for higher quality]

[olde-scratch]

mm momsger high au. i didn't mean to misspell that. inspired by this post from @tobisiksi . sorry this took so long i had everything written out and then tumblr Deleted Everything even tho i had like two backup posts.

i tried to include everyone i could and give all of them unique monster types but there are some repeats :( ib sowwee i tried to make them unique when i could tho. lmk if u have any suggestions for characters or different monster types.

ALSO HAPPY HALLOWEEN!! i have to work but im going dressed as saiki so i still have the spirit

Saiki Kusuo - Lovecraftian Eldritch Horror

i mean. duh.

he poses as his own (human) worshipper to avoid being indoctrinated elsewhere

"i can't attend, i have worship tonight." "oh that's cool who do you worship?" "they don't like being talked about." "ohh so it's an... invite-only system. right......"

deciding now that closed worship systems like saiki purports are generally a total Scam and people avoid them like a plague. it fits with saikis foray into the internet lol

hes still sooo silly dw

to the people with the eldritch kusuo headcanons, i see u..... i hope u like monster high........ :)

Saiki Kuusuke - Cult Worshipper (Human)

bet you thought i was gonna say mad scientist. WRONG that's his day job.

kuusuke operates as a mad scientist since humans aren't allowed into the monster world (afaik humans arent even seen outside of jackson, who is half monster). idk what he makes tho. maybe he pulls a doctor finklestein and makes bone animals to roam the monster world?

kuusuke is the one who got his family into the monster world btw. i mean he definitely found it p quickly after kusuo started morphing and speaking in tongues and shit

kuusuke would LOVE the monster world, at least at first. he might get bored really quickly, but he'd love being able to be more of a crazy bastard than he already is

kuusuke functions as a head cultist for kusuo, but instead of strengthening him with sacrifices and praying for protection, he weakens him with sacrifices (the limiters) and prays for himself to be smote (kusuo to play games with him) (kusuo ignores him a lot)

maybe he made amp/anpu like he did warp. idk.

Saiki Kurumi / Saiki Kuniharu - Cult Worshipper (Human)

they were 100% human before being dragged into the monster world due to their sons

they basically live the same as they do in canon tbh i dont think a lot would change in the monster world

during the new years chapter maybe instead of saying kusuo has powers, they say something about his eldritchness or how glad they are to "worship" such a chill god. god i wanna write this now.

Kaidou Shun - Vampire

okay so not ACTUALLY a vampire but i think it was nopsi who had like an au where kaidou was like a weaker version of a vampire?? GOD i dont remember the name (hampir?? i cant find it on wikipedia, did it start with an f????). for all intents and purposes, im just gonna consider him a weak vampire

i cant remember if he'd be made thru a human/vampire relationship but if he was then i think we should play into the manga hair colors of his siblings and say that whole toki and sora and his mother are all full vampires, he was half vampire (perhaps he's from the father's side of the family from a previous relationship, since his mother has purple hair in her manga cover i think??)

draculara has her red drinks and her spf and her cute little parasol so OF COURSE kaidou has all of those as well. i think it would be very funny if kaidou had his umbrella customized to look like a hidden anime weapon, but it wasn't waterproof so he has to use a different one when it rains

i have a gen 1 og draculara from when i was a kid and i love her she's so cute :] someone draw kaidou in her outfit he'd slay. actually, just draw all of them in her outfit(s). gloom beach teruhashi. sweet screams mera. freak du chic saiki. sweet 1600 saiko. fearleader hairo. you cannot make her look bad idc.

Nendou Riki - Zombie (Frankenstein's Monster type zombie)

okay so this might be controversial but imagine:

everyone's chatting like normal, nendous head falls off, everyone goes deathly silent, nendou puts it back on and goes back to talking, cue kaidou screeching

bc im rewriting this im not gonna go thru my thought process so my idea was that takeuchi was a mad scientist who created midori after himself bc he only had access to a mirror (neither realized they looked the same). takeuchi died and chouno, who was smitten with midori, remade takeuchi who midori named riki and chose to raise as her own. chouno intended it as a poetic final goodbye but cut to 16 years later and hes still not over her lol

nendou being undead could also play into his appreciation for life.... protecting the obviously smaller and weaker saiki and kaidou.... his care for his dad that he never met (altho he might have two dads in this au?).... THE HAMSTER SCENE. NENDOU :((((

Teruhashi Kokomi - Tomie

im SORRY for bringing up junji ito but come ON

for those who dont know tomie, she's basically So Beautiful that men are supernaturally attracted to her until she drives them mad with her beauty. they cut her up and scatter her remains and they turn into more tomies

however. teruhashi isnt just a pretty girl. she's The Perfect Pretty Girl. so we can just ignore all the bloodshed and murder and deathmatches :D

i debated making her a siren but that just doesn't fit her for some reason. she doesn't have to try.

in op's post they made her aphrodite reincarnated but i don't think that there are gods walking amonst the student disembody unfortunately

Teruhashi Makoto - Intersection Bishounen

IM SORRY THE TERHASHI SIBLINGS JUST FIT JUNJI ITO SO WELL

the intersection bishounen is a vengeful spirit that roams the streets and gives fortunes to young girls that drive them to suicide, after which they come back as ghosts and beg for his affection.

makoto is more of a teenage/ya heartthrob than a vengeful spirit tho so we can get rid of all the cool stuff like fortune telling and driving to suicide

the intersection bishounen also didnt want to fuck his cousin so points to him

Hairo Kineshi - Fire Elemental

i KNOW he's BORING

think of heath. i think heath is like the son of hades or something idfk i say fuck that ive never heard that before until i started getting back into monster high that's not canon to me

theres... a surprisingly low amount of sports name puns :( there's casketball, ofc ofc, because mh is american. there's monster soccer from toralei's ghoul spirit notebook, but baseball and tennis from clawdeen and spectra dont get named so they dont have names. thats BULLSHIT btw someone who's good w puns help me im freezing up

gilda goldstag was also a fire elemental right? i dont actually know anything about her other than that she was in the student council bc she was in the doll pack

theres a wind elemental mentioned in spectras ghoul spirit notebook. figured that id mention it idk

i have nothing else to say this should be obvious

Mera Chisato - Shouku-jinki

okay i need to preface this with something that is very important to me about this, the Japanese creature the jikininki/shoku-jinki originated in the story of musou the preist. as far as ive been able to see, there is a second story featured on wikipedia about a pregnant woman that is legitimately someone's fucking oc insert. im not making this up, it appeared one goddamn day and i dont want to make an acc just to get rid of it but i dont want to have my ip address just There and i dont know how to like draw attention to it. so please know that the story of musou is the only legitimate source of the jikininki and the "jijinki" are just someones fucking oc inserts. i dont know why they did this, i dont know how it's still there bc its been YEARS how has no one removed it??

anyways im calm now.

jikininki (or, iirc the more modern version is shoku-jinki) are demons that were greedy or impious in life and were cursed to wander the earth forever starving and thirsty. at night, they eat dead bodies.

sooo remember how mera acted when she got her money back for a day.

her death was the cause of their bankruptcy, maybe they put all their money towards avenging her?

i think that mera would come from a half human, half monster family so she could already be in the monster world, but i dont have to worry about what powers she'd have due to being a monster.

her mother would be a demon and her father a human who doesn't quite know how to navigate the monster would, so he still has to go away to earn money. also imagine four kids following mera around, three have devil horns and taiks and one is just some guy. (idk if she has 4 siblings but you get the idea)

so yeah, mera is immortal, unable to feel satisfied by any amount of food or drink, working herself to the bone to provide for her siblings. the mera lore is Strong w this one.

u could totally also go for some real body horror with her if u wanted

Yumehara Chiyo - Ghost

ill go into the difference between ghosts and souls in toritsuka's part since you cant take away toritsukas thing but you cant just remove ghosts from mh

i initially thought of making her a cherub/cupid but girlie would be getting No One Together. also there's only one cupid in mh and uhhhh there would be no hope if that was chiyo. yk what chiyo loves tho? gossip. u know what spectra loves? gossip.

i think the ghosts in mh all have a chain motif iirc? ik spectra does but sirena von boo also does (the siren/ghost hybrid) and i dont know any other ghosts off the top of my head

anyways yumehara is totally just a regular people ghost. maybe she cries blood or somethin fun like that? maybe have a bit where she keeps getting told off for having makeup and its her eyes leaking or its her having anti blood leaking drops or wipes

Saiko Metori - Mummy

i was gonna make him a vampire but HELLO??? CLEO IS RIGHT THERE????

rich, bratty, self-centered?? DE NILE IS CLEOS LAST NAME.

idk if him being a mummy would change him like cosmetically, like skin tone or hair texture or whatever but i cant draw so that doesn't quite matter to me. altho ig hed probably just look like a pale, dehydrated, brittle pile of bandages if you wanna be historicallty accurate

his father glows because he's ra next question

he definitely decks himself out in a looott more gold than just his earring as a mummy. bangles, cuffs rings, anklets, hair accessories.

the bodyguards are just the tomb protectors that cleo gets as slaves

he gets a custom made desk of pure gold at pk and he never uses it

i think in ancient egypt married couples would be buried together regardless of if at least the wife was dead or alive, so he definitely propositions teruhashi to take a sand nap with him

he gets a pet crocodile. he has a tiger in canon i think and cleo gets a snake so like. nile crocodile obviously.

i cant tell if he lives in a pyramid just randomly in the middle of hidari wakibara, or if theres a bit about nendou asking him where his pyramid is and saikos just like "bro i Dont Live In A Pyramid."

Kuboyasu Aren - Werewolf

hello?? violent, tragic past that comes back to haunt them regularly and interfere with their daily lives?????

i dont think werewolves can turn into wolves in mh but like if you want doggy kuboyasu who's as big as kaidou, go for it

KUBOYASU WITH DOGGY EARS AND A TAIL.... i dont think that werewolves in mh have tails but thats. a crime.

kuboyasu can smell the rest of the cast. god i wanna know what they smell like in the non weirdest way possible.

i dont have a lot to say about this. doguyasu

Toritsuka Reita - Cult Worshipper (Human)

okay so there's a difference between ghosts and souls in this version. ghosts are a form of undead that are sort of just humans that can float and go thru walls and stuff. souls are the base forms of dead people that remain chained to existence with no knowledge of who they were. normal people can see ghosts, but not souls. toritsuka can see both

toritsuka was also raised in a temple in this au, pretty standard stuff. nothing interesting there.

:)

so yk how toritsuka found out abt saiki thru the souls

and yk how saikis an eldritch monster that melts mind and twists reality to his will in this au

toritsuka does not know the meaning of the term eldritch btw

if ur a torisai or toritsuka angst fan then u can always imagine toritsuka thinking himself inferior to the rest of the pk psychickers bc he's a human and didnt even find saiki by himself, but with the help of his ghosts. sorry i gotta push the torisai agenda.

i personally also hc him to be hypersexualized by the adults in his life due to his touchyness from a young age which lead to him being ostracized by his peers when he began repeating the behavior, thus encouraging the development of touch starvation that he misinterpreted as horniness. in other words, "damn bitch u live like this?". sooo do with that what u will in this au.

(could saiki like..... taste his desperation??)

Aiura Mikoto - Cult Worshipper (Devil)

basically aiura but with cute devil horns and a tail that reacts with her mood. she 100% bedazzles and paints her horns like she paints her nails.

shes still a prophet and stuff but like shes just a lil demonic now. as she deserves.

"yeah i can totes check ur future!!" (rips open a portal to the underworld, chants in a forgotten language, focuses in on one damned soul that writhes and screams for mercy as it withers out of existence where it will wait to be reborn into hell after being offered the temporary reprieve of total nothingness) "babe ur bf is cheating on u like one hundo percent. but ur gonna be a bomb ass doctor one day!!"

i want her to trip toritsuka with her tail

she's not human and she lords it over toritsuka's head when they fight for saiki's attention

Akechi Touma - Cult Worshipper (Human)

initially i wanted to make him a bugboy bc yea but consider

saiki knew him in elementary school so he pulled a real I Tracked Down My Childhood Friend Who Is Actually An Eldritch Monster Masquerading as a Pretty Boy with Pink Hair in a High School?!

yeah soo like what if their dynamic was "what if we were friends in our childhood years before you had to leave to stop the uncontrollable desire you had to break down my reality and drive me into irreversible madness, yet despite knowing the danger i faced i still hunted you down, my prayers meant solely to get a response from you devolving into genuine reverence, solidifying myself as your most loyal devotee...... haha jk. unless?"

we all know that akechi likely faced no difficulty finding the monster world dont even ask

you can insert ur own hcs with his mom all ill say is that shes probably masquerading as some sort of cult worshipper or jekyll/hyde situation to live in the monster world. or maybe he just moved schools and lives sort of nearby but not in the monster world idk

akechi would fucking Love the monster world. he'd never get bored of it. you know the sweet potato scene? oh, honey, he's got access to information about the average size of different monsters, along with the influence of proportions and size, magical interference, etc etc. hed fucking LOVE the monster world.

Satou Hiroshi - Ghost

ive already got three ghosts (see suzumiya and makino) but i couldnt think of the Most Generic monster but hear me out

he's a sheet

hes got two black or cut out circles for eyes and a little 'o' for a mouth. just fuckin 0 。0 .

HES SO. USELESS.

SO PLAIN.

SO BORING.

SO GENERIC.

SO. PERFECT.

and saiki is IN LOVE WITH HIM.

toritsuka is honestly so offended that he is not the ghost-themed object of saiki's affections

satous friends and baseball team are either the core basic monsters (werewolf, vampire, zombie, etc) or theyre basic japanese spirits. im. not doing tons of research on if there are generic japanese demons or if theres just sort of one kind of demon that has a lot of forms,,,, im so sorry i can only do so much research please correct me if you know better

Rifuta Imu - Catgirl

i dont know what the name of the actual catgirls are in mh (werecats?) like purrsephone and toralei and meowlody but fuck it catgirl

she would have THE cutest collar. OR she'd have a ribbon around her neck w a matching one on her tail like catrine de mew. she could maybe even have some sort of shredded piece of clothing like catty noir's skirt or a habit of shredding things

im sorry i dont know a lot about cat breeds so i dont have a lot to say about her species

cat themed accessories.......

btw she's a cat bc of japans obsession w cats. i considered making HER a siren since i scrapped that idea for teruhashi but i feel like it just. doesn't suit her.

Bonuses (people i couldnt find that much to talk about)

Suzumiya Hii - Cursed Soul

i mean what else would she be.

okay so shes not a SOUL shes a GHOST i just think it sounds better like that

Makino Arisu - Ghost

ring-style ghost. i think it's called a yuurei? i did my research for her but i forgot it and the og post got deleted so. im upset.

Matsuzaki - Headless Horseman

idk what is his horse would be i just wanted bloodgood to have Presence in this and the principal is only seen like. three times.

i considered giving kuboyasu the status as headless horseman bc of his motorcycle but g1 bloodgood did not serve that much cunt for her type to be given to a 16 year old im sorry

(i also recently got a bloodgood as my first doll when i got back into mh and i love her :] she came w a cool coat that isnt her og coat but its nice anyways)

Chouno Urkyoku - Mad Jester

okay so ik i said he was a mad scientist but he retired that in order to go into entertainment. it's not going too well.

you could also go for a ringmaster/clown route but we all lived thru 2016 (or was it 2017?) and the ensuing cliche-ifying treatment the media gave scary clowns put me off them personally lol they kind of bore me

(if u don't live in the us or don't know what im talking about that happened in 2016, then god i envy you. just look up "2016 clowns usa" im sure you'll figure it out)

Michael (Ikemi something I think?) - Zombie

idk it just fits him

zombies in g1 can only communicate thru moans which makes them nonverbal in some way but g3 STOLE that from us. fuck them.

Nendou Midori / Nendou Takeuchi - Frankenstein & His Monster

i explained this in nendous thing im not repeating myself sorry

PK Principal - Gorgon

yes its bc of the glasses

also i think theres something fun about being able to say he can rule the school with an iron fist (or ig rock fist) without needing to use his eyes

Kongou - Minotaur

big strong and VIOLENT. you can also play into manny's more delicate side with kongous change of heart after saiki helps him realize what matsuzaki does for him

Takahashi - Goblin

idk i think it just suits him

Shima - Changeling

her whole bit is being a forgettable face so what if she was always just a Little Bit Different every time you saw her

Iridatsu family - Mummy

okay ik ive already done mummy but HEAR ME OUT.

idk abt the mom but i think it would be funny if yuuta was just covered in bandages and his whole thing is tripping over/hitting people with them

The pervy teacher who wasn't actually pervy at all he just had an unfortunate face - Human

he's not even disguised as anything

the monsters saw him and said "nah im p sure he's one of us" and then took him

teacher doesnt quite care cause the monster world has better health plans /j

The "your manga artist is gnc af" guy - Kitsune

kitsune are typically seen as elusive tricksters which doesnt suit his character BUT

theres a whole joke about japanese mangakas being worked to the bone to provide chapters every week or so for serialization even going so far as to hide or make excuses as to why they did not complete the chapter

i feel so bad for them bro i could not (used to do weekly updates for fics for 5 years before i started needing money bc i turned 18)

also. someone give that man fox ears and a tail.

The Alphonse guy - Invisi Billy

idk what invisi billy is but he can be here helping alphonse hide from the shame of his chunnibyou :D

Makoto's rival guy - Banshee

it just. Suits Him.

idk if there are male banshees bc we only know sarah screams and her mom but we can have a trans icon if we need

[delusional-day-dreamer]

Party Girl P - p.b

‣ Clingy Drunk Paige Bueckers x Reader (inspired by our favorite girl partying on Ice's live on 06/24/23)

‣ wc: 1476

‣‣ Synopsis: r and paige were roommates freshman year of college due to a mixup between the wbb team and wsoccer team and started their secret relationship as Paige recovered from her sophomore year injuries. (highkey might write more fics about this????) Up until now they've been able to keep their one-year ish relationship a secret, despite the rumors circulating the internet about the two of them.

‣‣‣ a/n: this is my first time writing a fic ESPECIALLY dialogue, not just on tumblr but like as a whole so any suggestions on my writing is highly welcome (you guys have no idea how hard x reader was to write because it was so confusing to write and kept breaking my brain bc i've NEVER done second pov) and also, the live’s timeline in this fic is not super accurate because it's lowk inspired by that one clip of paige and azzi maybe? kissing but i couldn’t find the whole video (i also just didn’t have the brainpower) so please bear w me 🙏🙏

You made your way over to Ice, leaning over shoulder with the sole intent of taking a sip of her drink. Before you could grasp the cup however, she slightly nudged you, drawing your attention to the live she had streaming from her phone.

“Oh my gosh I didn’t even notice yall, what’s up live,” You forgot about the drink as you rested your arm and chin on Ice’s shoulder, giving a small wave to greet the hundred people watching you from Ice’s screen. You were at Ted’s, the local bar, partying with the uconn women’s basketball team. Despite being part of the soccer team yourself, you were close friends with the entirety of the wbb team since your freshman year, growing even closer when you and Paige began dating last year.

You nodded your head and sang some of the lyrics to the music playing, silently reading the comments slowly rolling in and only addressing the more appropriate ones, despite being slightly tipsy you still had majority of your media training intact. You answered a few questions about random things while recharging your social battery with Ice, thanking those who gave compliments on your outfit or hair and stifling your laughs at the comments addressing Azzi drinking in the background or Paige yelling about shots.

Thinking of Paige, you realized you hadn’t seen your girlfriend in a few minutes as you perked your head up to look for her.

The entire team knew the two of you were practically attached at the hip in general, making it nearly impossible for anyone to separate your drunk clingy selves from each other. You parted ways with Ice, wrapping your arm around the shoulder of your slightly taller girlfriend as you also reached for a shot off the bar top in front of the two of you.

Paige turned her head to the side as her arm wrapped around the sliver of exposed skin on your waist. "Hey baby I missed you" her slight intoxication showing in her voice as she leaned in to kiss your jaw in greeting. Her face was flushed and you could feel the heat radiating off her body as you settled into her embrace, her hair tickling the back of your neck as you conversed with the girls around you.

You remained in her arms for the short time you danced, sang, and drank with Paige, KK, Azzi, and Kayla, the younger girls hanging out on the other side of the bar with Aubrey, either on their phones or talking to each other as they weren’t old enough for the bar to serve them. You excused yourself from the group as you ordered a dirty shirley from the bar and made your way back over to Ice, wanting to rest your feet for a few moments and have your favorite drink in peace.

"Hey guys your favorite is back!" You weren't a lightweight by any means, usually being able to hold your drinks well, but the night had clearly made you a little louder and outgoing as you rapidly began flipping through random conversation topics with Ice and the live. It had only been a minute or two before you had exited the live's view after discarding your leather jacket over the chair and setting your drink on the table in front of you to head further in the corner of the bar to text a few of your soccer friends back on your phone as you leaned against the wall.

Paige came up behind Ice as she wrapped her arms around Ice's neck while singing to the phone, knowing that if you had removed yourself from the camera's view it was to have a few moments of peace and privacy while on your phone. She sang the rest of the song with Ice before leaving her to walk over to your standing figure, leaning against the wall next to you and pulling your body in front of her as you closed your phone and looked up at her. She wrapped her arms around your waist once again, but this time without your jacket acting as a barrier between your two bodies.

"Mmm, you smell so good baby," Paige mumbled as she laid sweet kisses up your neck, drawing small circles up and down your bare waist to your skirt-covered hip. Her small touches only added to the warm fuzzy feeling in your head, having you melt into her touch.

"Thank you P," you giggle softly while tilting your head slightly upwards so you could see her properly, "You having fun out there?" you smile at the grin that spreads across her face.

"It's been a while since we've all been able to go out together, it's nice spending time with everyone outside of practice, especially with you," she says the last part while gently knocking her forehead into yours.

It was true, the two of you had been so busy with your respective sports, finals, and social lives that you hadn't been able to go out and truly enjoy a stress and carefree night, especially considering the fact that your relationship was a secret to everyone outside of your teams and close friend group.

"Yeah well, we'll be able to spend a lot more time together now, starting tonight," you whisper into her suggestively while trying to contain your wide smile. Paige pulled back to allow her eyes to roam over your face before slowly trailing down the rest of your body.

"That, we most definitely will," She whispered back as she gripped your hips to pull you in for a slow and languid kiss, your hands automatically moving to rest one on her neck and one into her hair, kissing her back slowly.

"OH SHIT, I mean shoot, um anyways," The two of you pull back from your kiss at Ice's exclamation, looking over at her and Aubrey, who was now standing in the middle of you three, to see what was wrong. She muted the live and turned the camera over from her face as she waved you both over frantically. "I accidentally turned the camera to Aubrey and you guys were in the background but I don't think the live saw your guys's faces like actually kissing, it was mostly just paige's back and a bit of you and I'm not sure if," her frantic ramble continued on before you stopped her.

"It's fine, it's fine, if they didn't actually see my face and us two actually kissing it'll be fine, just ignore it," You reassured her, immediately feeling more sober than just a few minutes prior. "Paige and I will just go back over to some of the other girls and you can come over to us with the live to say bye and we'll just pretend it didn't happen okay?" You concluded to her while grabbing Paige's hand and interlinking your fingers.

"That's fine with you right P?" You turned to her, making sure she was okay with potentially just being outed on a tiktok live. "Yeah it's not a big deal, don't stress too hard Ice," she reassured while squeezing your hand. You walked away from your two friends hand in hand to stand at a quiet spot at the bar, making sure to double check again with Paige, but now without Ice and Aubrey present in the conversation.

"Are you sure you're alright Paige? I know you wanted to keep this a secret for a while longer and it's okay if you're not comfortable with our relationship being out in the open like this and," Paige cut you off before you could continue.

"Hey hey, as long as I'm with you, everything is okay," she looked you in the eye as she consoled you, "We can talk about what we wanna do about the public knowing moving forward, but for right now, I'm content just being here with you."

You smiled at her, your anxiety relieved that the incident wasn't something that would negatively impact the stability and peace your relationship with Paige had. You leaned forward into her body, allowing her arms to encircle you in a comforting and tight hug as she kissed the top of your head gently.

It was safe to say the rest of your time spent at the bar with Paige was more relaxing than before, the two of you swapping your drinks for water and replacing your energetic dancing for simply standing and spending time with the other girls. You both even made sure to reserve a small amount of distance between the your bodies when Ice had all of you say goodbye to her live. The team had all decided to pack up for the night shortly after, and you and Paige walked hand in hand together to your dorm, enjoying the cool breeze of the night.

thank you for reading all the way through and sorry if this was kinda booty i couldn't force myself to read all the way through and edit once i finished but i'm excited to keep writing and hopefully get better with each fic! also lmk if you guys wanna see more of this specific paige x reader prompt as mentioned at the top of the post!!!!

[the-cybersmith]

That's a foolish Philistine point, and you either don't understand TV Tropes, or you don't understand art. Also, unblock me, you coward.

In case the image isn't readable, here's the text, by tumblr user Txttletale, I apologise for the foul language and poor grammar, but in her defence she is Foreign:

absolute dumbest shit on tvtropes is how if a trope isnt in a fucking thing theyll still put it on the things page and be like, Averted. Downplayed. Inverted. youll be readimng the tvtropes page for tom and jerry and itll be like Violence Is Not An Option: Inverted. Actually Tom and Jerry always hit each other with mallets and other household weaponry. She Is Not My Girlfriend: Downplayed. Nobody even suggests that Tom is Jerry’s girlfriend, so there’s no need to deny it. Everybody Has Lots Of Sex: Averted. Nobody has sex in Tom & Jerry.

This is wrongheaded, for two major reasons:

TV Tropes is not a fiction summary site. It's not "Wikipedia but only for media". It's fundamentally a collaborative attempt to document and analyse TROPES. Tropes are patterns that occur in media, and media can be, in some sense, analysed as sequences of symbols.

The absence of a symbol is itself a symbol.

The things that an Author DOESN'T include in a story can often be as important as the things an Author DOES include in a story.

If we would expect to see a specific trope, and that trope isn't there, then the non-presence of the trope may be relevant to analysis.

For example, let's consider things we might expect to see in War Films.

Triumphant moments of violence: in a war film, we might expect to see our protagonist defeating enemies, and this to be portrayed triumphantly, in a way that inspires awe and excitement and joy.

Celebrations/Honours: In a War film, we might expect to see our protagonists honoured, either through extensive praise, or by actual formal military decoration.

Now let's look at a film that shows neither of these: 1917.

The protagonist, William Schofield, kills three enemies throughout the film, two soldiers and a pilot. None of these moments are shown to be triumphant. None of them bring us any joy. What does this say about the film? What might we analyse about the film, and about the war it depicts?

The protagonist, William Schofield, is not honoured or decorated. He completes his mission, and the most he receives is the acknowledgement of a job well done, not by the General who assigned him his orders, or by the Colonel to whom they pertained, but by a nameless adjutant to the Colonel. Schofeld is not celebrated. He is not treated as a hero. What does this say about industrialised combat? What does this say about the dehumanising nature of Trench Warfare?

Whatever it says, we can analyse it only by what we DO NOT SEE.

For an even starker example, let's look at Star Wars.

The Skywalker Saga consists of nine films. In all but one of them, the final shot of the film is extremely formulaic, there is a closing shutter transition to the credits on a scene depicting a living member of the Skywalker family, who has also been a major factor in the plot, seen in multiple prior scenes.

The sole exception to this is Episode VIII, The Last Jedi. It closes on a character who had only appeared very briefly in the film prior to that. A character whose name we were not told. A character of no significant family. A character distinguished, not by great heroic deeds or a magnificent destiny, but by the simple choice to help a stranger.

WHAT MIGHT THAT FACT MEAN? WHAT MIGHT THIS SIGNIFICANT OMISSION, THIS NON-PATTERN, THIS AVERTED TROPE, MEAN?

Well, we can only begin to answer that question once we have asked it. And to ask it, we actually do have to look at the place where the patterns are not.

Tom and Jerry, for example: it portrays many of the ugly, unsavoury aspects of the world. Domestic Violence, animal abuse, predation, and (YMMV) racial stereotyping are all depicted.

Yet, sexuality is not. That wicked blot upon the world is absent, even when so many other grotesqueries are featured.

The aversion of "Everybody Has Lots Of Sex" is something we might reasonably include in our analysis, particularly when many other examples of American Animation that were contemporary with Tom and Jerry DO feature sexual themes.

Could somebody please let Txttletale know about this? She has me blocked for some reason, but I want her to see this.

[whencyclopedia]

Constitutional Convention

The Constitutional Convention was held at Independence Hall in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, from 25 May to 17 September 1787. Spurred on by economic troubles left over from the American Revolution and compounded by the weak Articles of Confederation, delegates from twelve states met to draft a new framework of governance, the United States Constitution, which created a stronger federal government.

Background

In March 1781, the Articles of Confederation went into effect as the framework of governance for the fledgling United States, after having been ratified by all thirteen states. Under the Articles, each state essentially operated as a semi-independent republic, bound to one another in a loose 'perpetual union'. The federal government – which at the time consisted only of a unicameral Congress – was intentionally kept weak, to ensure the sovereignty and independence of the states. Congress' only real powers were those relating to war and foreign affairs, and even then, it needed the consent of at least nine states before it could declare war or borrow money from foreign lenders. The framers believed that they needed to keep the federal government weak to protect the rights and liberties of American citizens; their recent experience with the British Parliament seemed to suggest that a powerful central authority would not hesitate to squander those rights. But, before long it would become apparent that weak governments carried their own sets of issues that would be just as dangerous.

The most glaring problem was Congress' inability to levy its own taxes. Rather than raise its own money, Congress instead had to rely on donations from the states to fill the national treasury. But, especially after states began to focus on their own interests after the end of the American Revolutionary War, these donations were not consistently forthcoming. This left Congress with no funds to pay federal soldiers or meet its many other financial obligations. Nor did Congress have the power to compel the states to send money or comply with any other federal legislation. Several attempts to amend the Articles to allow Congress to raise money through tariffs were vetoed by the states. Additionally, a lack of unified foreign policy left Congress ill-equipped to deal with foreign powers, with Britain, France, and Spain all putting restrictions on American trade that the federal government could not retaliate against. Finally, Congress had been unable to respond to Shays' Rebellion when it broke out in western Massachusetts in late 1786. Although the rebellion was eventually suppressed by a privately funded army, it led to fears that future insurrections would not be crushed so easily.

For these, and other, reasons, many Americans became convinced that the Articles of Confederation were not working and that unless the Articles were revised, the United States would soon unravel. This reality weighed heavily on the minds of the delegates who met in Annapolis, Maryland, on 11 September 1786. Representing five states (New York, New Jersey, Pennsylvania, Delaware, and Virginia), the delegates had merely been sent to discuss trade between states. But as their discussion touched on other issues caused by the weak Articles of Confederation, the delegates realized that something drastic had to be done. In their final report to Congress, drafted by Alexander Hamilton of New York, the delegates proposed that a constitutional convention should be held in Philadelphia the following May to discuss revisions to the Articles. On 21 February 1787, Congress endorsed the suggestions of the Annapolis Convention, and stated that it would write up a report on which changes to the Articles were necessary. Ultimately, twelve of the thirteen states decided to send delegates to the upcoming Constitutional Convention – the sole holdout was Rhode Island, which believed there was nothing wrong with the existing Articles of Confederation and refused to send delegates to amend them.

Continue reading...

[rishiguro]

FICS FOR GAZA | FREE PALESTINE

during my time off tumblr, an initiative was founded: @ficsforgaza - a system allowing both writers and readers to contribute to the liberation of palestine and its citizens. i‘ve decided to do my part and use my platform on here and participate by opening my requests.

HOW DOES IT WORK?

visit the HOW TO PARTICIPATE and FAQ pages for more detailed information about the initiative !

for each $1 donated to a vetted fundraiser i will write 100 words towards a request of yours.

the proof of said donation must be sent to me via DM - please blur out any sensitive/personal information.

if you request a fic/scenario, i will notify you via DM once it’s completed. if you wish, i will also tag you once it’s uploaded as the sponsor for this project.

before submitting, please read my rules! if you go against them (e. g. requesting an nsfw scenario) i can't honour your request.

REQUEST

i write sfw (mostly angst with the occasional fluff) and suggestive content ! if you’re unsure if i would write your request, please feel free to reach out and ask.

i write for the following fandoms: haikyuu!!, jujutsu kaisen, my hero academia and genshin impact; solely reader-inserts

once you‘ve submitted your request, i will add it to the list below. please feel free to reach out to me via DM for updates on the progress!

IMPORTANT

i do not write on schedule! i have a full time job, so i can't promise that a work will be done at a certain time. however, given the importance of this matter, i will prioritize these sponsored requests!

SPONSORED REQUESTS

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[gigglemugger]

The Naked and the Blind (or The Ballad of Meg Halsey).

Fandom: Re-Animator (Movies - Combs), Herbert West - Reanimator - H.P. Lovecraft.

Pairing: Herbert West/Meg Halsey

Rating: Explicit, or at the very least Mature.

Archive Warnings: Graphic depictions of violence.

Synopsis:

"Meg Halsey had a problem. In fact, she had several problems, the first of which, she acknowledges while looking at her semi empty living room, is that she can't afford to live alone anymore. The second one is that she doesn't wanna go back to her daddy's house again. This would be an inconceivable notion to her thirteen year old self, even her sixteen year old self, but at twenty five, she'd really choose living under the bridge first. Ok. Maybe not that." Meg Halsey is perfect: Beautiful, accomplished, a bright future doctor. She escaped her hometown and moved to New York, where she likely would have stayed forever. After her mother dies, though, she is forced to move back to Arkham and face everything she wanted to leave behind. --- A.K.A I made a tumblr post about how Crampton/Combs are romantically involved in all of their collabs, got replies and decided to write down a suggestion of "what if Meg was the protagonist, not Dan?" Also I did the cop-out summary thing and pasted the first paragraph of the fic. It's highway robbery. Criminal (I'm sorry).

Thanks to @resonanteye and @sugarsweetnightmareee for helping me shape this up in the replies!

Word Count: Multi Chapter, so far 2,561 published, 19,701 written at the time of publication.

Chapter Count: 1/? (likely 9).

AO3 Tags: I uhhh......... I have no idea what I made it started with one tumblr post then one reply and here we are, I included other works by Lovecraft here and rounded Arkham up and then ran, Character Study, In a way, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - No Dan Cain, he doesn't exist, Danbert shippers cry I get it, Canon-Typical Violence, Animal Death, Eventual Romance, Slow Romance, Slow Burn, Slow Build, Eventual Smut?, maybe? - Freeform, this fic is an affront to god just like herbert's reagent, Not Beta Read.

Language: English.

CW: Meg went through some trauma. Dead parents, dead cat. She also helps kill her dad later on, considering, so. It's a heavy fic, but if you liked the movie you'll be fine.

AO3 link.

AO3 Notes (yes, they're huge, bear with me): This is an AU about Meg Halsey. I always wanted to write this because in every single Combs/Crampton collaboration, they play lovers (Castle Freak, From Beyond, the Evil Clergyman) EXCEPT FOR in Reanimator, so I made a tumblr post saying I'd like to explore a Meg/Herbert thing solely because of that (and I've only seen it being done one other time, which made me wanna take a personal shot at it). This post was WAY more popular than I expected (it didn't hit the hundreds, but it hit like 20+ notes when I expected like 1 and it being a comment of "are you insane?" with nothing else), so I decided to take it seriously. Then someone suggested I make a version where Meg is the main character, no Dan, no nothing and I thought that was a really interesting idea and ran with it.  I made several notes (like four pages) about Meg's character and realized that she’s an amazing, incredibly accomplished ball of air. They made her have good instincts, a good brain, be helpful, be sweet, and then gave her zero personality. This isn’t her movie, so the first thing I did in this AU was scramble around with her brains and give her a will to live for something. The second thing I did was to scramble around with her brains enough so she’d have ambition.  The third one was to scramble around with her brains enough she’d have a crush on West—who is her equal here. I'm not saying this relationship won't go into some toxic patterns, but so does Danbert, though I understand the implications. It's more like a double edged sword, though.  When I say this is an AU, I mean it’s an AU for sure. I changed a lot of plot points, and switched things around, because it turns out that having Meg as a protag changes a lot on its own. I personally think that Herbert liked Dan for three reasons: He was beautiful, smart and incredibly gullible. Here he likes Meg because she's smart, ambitious and much more like him than others would think. She doesn't take bullshit, though. Scenes are maintained but go different directions, etc. Meg also went through trauma and transformation, which will be unpacked, and though she externally acts like the Meg we know, most of the time, she's not. She had like a Veronica Mars esque transformation, minus the REAL TRAGEDIES of Veronica Mars.  I decided to name this a ballad cause I always name things ballads and start with the definition of the word cause I’m pretentious and like to make it seem as if it’s not ‘cause of the ballad of John and Yoko. In this case, though, I decided to just call it the ballad of Meg Halsey, instead of the ballad of Herbert and Meg, or Halsey and West, because this fanfic is very much about Meg—she deserves it.  The Naked and the Blind comes from that line from Every Me Every You by Placebo (like the naked leads the blind, I know I’m selfish, I’m unkind). It felt fitting. I also included two characters of Lovecraft lore which will be useful throughout the fic (and possible sequel in which I take the bones of bride of reanimator and completely reshape it), Asenath Waite and Edward Derby, from The Thing on the Doorstep. I also mention the Pickmans, Necronomicons, all of that. I think I'm going to use Welsey as a ship name for now, though I'm sure someone else somewhere in the world has already come up with a ship name for them. I also named the Playlist I made for them this. Very normal behavior.  I have seven chapters written, almost at the end of the fic as a whole, and I’ll try to upload one every Monday. We’ll see.

1. Sucker love is heaven sent.

Meg Halsey had a problem. In fact, she had several problems, the first of which, she acknowledges while looking at her semi empty living room, is that she can't afford to live alone anymore. The second one is that she doesn't wanna go back to her daddy's house again. This would be an inconceivable notion to her thirteen year old self, even her sixteen year old self, but at twenty five, she'd really choose living under the bridge first. Ok. Maybe not that.

Here's a picture of Meg Halsey's life one year ago: A happy medical student in New York, with her own room and roommate at one of the dorm houses. Not a sorority girl like her mother gushed about her being when she was twelve, but still friendly towards everyone. Her hair was a little shorter, less gruffy, definitely bobbed, and she probably looked serene. Medical students aren't by definition serene, but she hadn't majorly fucked up. She got high grades, was the second best in her class which was full of men, and she was proud of herself.

Then her mother died. The rest was probably history, or easily deductible.

Savings had existed, but living in Arkham was more expensive than she remembered. Her dad wanted to pay for the house, but she refused because she knew what that entailed. He also wanted her to move back with him, but that would also mean other things: You don't need to pay rent, but you'll have to cook, clean, take care of affairs and be your mother. She was shocked he hadn't sent for her when she was dying, but then it had been so fast that maybe he didn't have the time.

“Don't worry daddy, it's OK,” she had said with a smile, eyeing the wine. She couldn't drink in front of him unless it was a special occasion, like a thirteen year old. “I'm just gonna have to find a roommate.”

It had been a week ago, at that house that smelled of death. Wood, carpets of history, several footprints of doctors, her mother and all the versions of herself.

I wish I could have that drink…

“Hmm…” Yes. The characteristic Dean Halsey “Hm.” The same he had for his employees when he needed to convince them of something. Here we go… “I'm not sure it's safe for you to invite a stranger into your house, Meggie.”

“I had a stranger in my house, remember? My roommate in college.” A nice girl, who never got into trouble, she had told her mother in her semi-weekly calls, which was a lie. Becca was a protester who was always in and out of jail because of fights with the cops. Still, that meant Meg had quiet nights to study, or contemplate the lights on in places that hadn't been Arkham.

“I still don't know about that, sweetheart. Maybe you should move back in for a while…”

“Are you alright, honey?” Her mother's voice resonated in her head. Last phone call before disaster. She remembered the clothes she had been wearing: Light sweater, jeans, boots. A Meg Halsey classic. She remembered it was raining and that two people went behind her, two guys, talking. There was a light breeze from the door and they were gone.

“I'm alright, mom. You?”

“Meg,” Dr. Harrod said. Hospital. Residence. Meg was holding onto her scalpel too tightly. “Maybe you need a break.”

“I'm fine.”

Another picture of Meg Halsey’s life: Prodigy. Brilliant. Bright smile, beautiful blue eyes. She was a perfect specimen of what you would call a girl: Polite, traditional, good. She never stayed out past eight, she never went with boys that much, she never strayed from her studies. She wanted to be whatever her dad thought was best, whatever her mother thought would make her proud.

Meg had goals and ambitions, sure, but she also wanted other things. She watched her parents at the table, while cutting her meat. They were always smiling, laughing easily. All of it. She wanted it all. She even thought she had met a boy, her last high school boyfriend, traditional all the way, very nice and Christian upper middle class. Then…

The television was on, showing the news and Meg bit her lip. She looked at her nails, looked at the carpet and then at her cat, roaming around. “I'm not even going to have money to feed you at this rate,” she said when her beloved Rufus came to her lap. She put her face on his back gently. “God…”

Not turning back to the house, she'd have to find a roommate, one that she wouldn't be afraid would murder her in her sleep. Maybe she needed some coffee. Maybe she needed a million dollars.

She looked at the clock on the wall, the one that looked like Felix the cat, which she had in her bedroom at ten. The eyes went back and forth, freaking her mother out. It still had the stain of when she tried to paint it pink with glitter nail polish. Most importantly, it told her it was almost time to leave. Harrod would be going up and down looking for her and she had morgue duty, which was surely a lot for her muscles and she didn't look forward to it—morgue duty being that now it was the norm that someone else other than the attending intern doctor take the body downstairs, after an incident occurred (no more was mentioned about such an incident).

She wouldn't let her colleagues say she was using her status as the Dean's daughter to get out of good honest work.

However, she would have to look at Hill… He was always there testing his weird pen…

“Ouch!” She shrieked, looking at her hand and seeing the blood. “Oh, Rufus, get off!” Rufus did so, apparently understanding he shouldn't bite her and that she'd be rightfully pissed. She had to admit it was effective in bringing her back to the scene, though. It was a documentary which aired now, about a fishing town with a strange, rare disease. She had heard about it, and should be more interested considering, but frankly all she wanted was that coffee and a shower.

It was a pleasant afternoon in Arkham, her birth city. A strange city to be brought up in, with a deep history of the occult, but with a pristine, ivy league college in the form of the Miskatonic University. Meg stepped out of her car, chilly. She was wearing boots, a sweater and her hair was up. It was getting longer. Her dad almost went insane when she wanted to leave Arkham for New York, especially for medicine if she so insisted on studying that.

“A more womanly course would be interesting…”

“What's more womanly than curing people? Than being a healer?” Her mother waved her hand.

“I'm just not sure, Meg. Your dad thinks the same… Maybe it'd be best…”

“Would you have gone if you could? If you could do anything, would you? I can. I wanna go to New York.”

Every time in the past few months that she felt the air of the hospital wafting on her, sterilized and reminiscent of all the times she went to visit her dad, it was sort of like defeat. Not that she'd let that bring her down. She did go to New York after all. It was temporary, just until her dad got back on her feet.

Until he met someone, Becca said. A hot, pretty new thing to screw.

“Halsey,” Harrod said, standing by reception. Was she waiting? “Right on time. You need to go to 106, now. A patient just died, you need to take her down.”

At least she wasn't the one who killed her. Hooray for small miracles.

Scrubs became her, she thought—not that having vain thoughts was her hallmark—but they were not better than suits by a mile. She felt extremely underdressed in a second, walking into the morgue, at least compared to the austere, small man checking the beakers.

“Meg?” The man raised his head. The second man, being the corpse, stayed thankfully very still. “What are you doing here?”

“Pushing a body?” She laughed a little, to make things light, but she knew she had been busted. A few years ago it'd be unprecedented to go behind his back on anything, but now... Besides, it wasn't drugs, it was just a dead guy for Christ's sake.

He looked concerned right away.

“You're too small to be doing this kind of work. You'll kill yourself.”

“Honestly daddy—” she could feel the ears of the stranger perking up at that. Great going, Meg. Tell every single stranger about it. “It's fine. I can do it.” He paused and pursed his lips.

“Certainly one of your classmates…”

“I said I'm alright,” she smiled a little towards him, to mitigate any disrespect, before turning her attention completely to the left. “Who are you?” The small man looked up from a tag in one of the corpses.

“Oh, don't mind me. I'm sure I don't wanna interrupt family.” Her dad wouldn't pick up on the sarcasm, Meg knew, but she did. Her shoulders tensed, her eyes narrowed.

“Nonsense,” Dean Halsey began, well humored. “Mr. West, I'd like to introduce you to the most brilliant medical student in this room…” She looked away.

“Stop it, dad,” Meg smiled her brightest smile to hide her discomfort, as usual. West smiled back, in contempt.

“Oh, does she have a name?”

“I'm Megan. Halsey.” She didn't bother stretching her hand, she didn't wanna touch him.

“Pleased to meet you, Ms. Halsey.” I don't think so.

“West just came from Switzerland. He was doing independent research for Dr. Gruber, before he died.” Meg knew the story, heard it through the grapevine, but no one knew any details.

Gruber was a brilliant doctor, though. She had read his most recent paper on brain death, and all the other ones he wrote a lot in New York. A page turner, Gruber—by medical paper standards, at least.

“So, you studied death?” She asked. His ears perked up again.

“Yes, I have.” Well dressed, prim and curt. Fun. I'll love having him in class.

“Alan,” a third voice filled the place, coming from the adjacent room, the one where he no doubt had been procuring a corpse from. Meg involuntarily twisted her nose and pretended she had an itch. She stopped on his feet. “Nice to see you down here, Ms. Halsey.”

“Well I'm glad, cause here I am, every Tuesday.” Next time tell him when you go out to do your laundry.

“Definitely more than your father comes down here. We haven't been seeing him in a while.”

“I was just showing our newest student, Herbert West here, the not-so-grand-tour.” He always made that joke when he brought people down. Meg saw him do it at least twice and heard about it four other ones. “This should interest you, Carl. He worked with Hans Gruber.” While her dad introduced Hill, and all of his prowess to get research grants somehow, probably with that freaky pen he carried, Meg was thinking briefly about how was Herbert West working for Gruber, fully, even as a student.

“I know your work Dr. Hill. Quite well.” Meg raised her head. “Your theory on the location of the will in the brain is… Interesting, though derivative of Dr. Gruber's research in the early 70s.”

She knew that. She needed a dictionary to read his most obscure work, but German and English were similar enough, she got by.

“So derivative, in fact, that in Europe it's considered plagiarized. And your support of the 12 minute limit on the life of the brain stem after death…”

“...Six to twelve minutes, Mr…?”

Meg wanted to leave.

“West. Herbert West. Frankly, Dr… Hill? Your work on brain death is outdated.”

“Carl,” her dad interrupted and Meg looked away from the scene. Frankly, Hill gave her the creeps, sort of, and seeing him that angry was unpleasant. Suck it up, ok? You know him since you were at least twelve, it's fine.

You were always soft.

“...Megan and I would love it if you came to dinner.” Wait what?

“What?” She repeated out loud. Herbert turned his bright hazel, poisonous eyes towards her. She straightened her back. “I'm sorry, dinner? When?

“Thursday,” West answered for the others. He put his hands on his hips. “Maybe pushing bodies around really isn't for someone as small as you, Ms. Halsey.”

“I'm fine.”

“You might kill yourself.”

“Dad, dinner, Thursday? I'm not sure I can make it.”

What else are you gonna do? Your friends don't talk to you anymore since you left for New York to hang out with feminists, artists, and bohemians, leaving them here with babies and husbands.

“Well, I'm sure you'll make an exception,” Hill said, looking straight at her. “A lovely, amazing student such as yourself should take some time off every now and then. Celebrate.” She hated when he looked straight at her. She could feel her dad and West observing in the sidelines.

“Sure,” Meg found herself saying, hands tight against the steel of the gurney, knuckles turning white. “I'll cook.”

You'll what?!

“Fantastic,” Hill finished, looking at Herbert next. “I'll see you in class, mr. West. Ms. Halsey.” He nodded his head and she smiled, closing her eyes.

Both Hill and her father left in what seemed to be a dream sequence, no doubt discussing the grant, and the autopsy room was silent once again.

Her head was throbbing. The walls and floors were gray, there was a corpse rotting in their midst, Meg took a deep breath—chemical and invigorating somehow.

“I take it you don't like Dr. Hill either.” She looked at West, whose eyes still shone. He approached her, footsteps echoing out. “How did you know I was studying death?”

“I'm a doctor, Mr. West. I read,” she released the gurney, feeling tired for the meal she'd have to cook, on top of studying. There was a beat before she could stop herself from asking “What happened between you and dr. Gruber?”

“What do you mean?” A slight twitch, a small movement of the lips. “Dr. Gruber had a lab accident that I was unfortunately too late to prevent.”

“I heard he was in his office when he died.” Another twitch.

“I'm sure you heard it wrong, with all due respect ms. Halsey.”

Chemical smells, corpses rotting, the smell of something burning—Hill's pen no doubt left crisp black flesh behind, and he did it on enough people in the morgue proper that it got to where she was. She looked at West for almost long enough she'd probably have his exact face and pose at that moment committed to memory, forever.

He looked at her, waiting for something to happen.

Her hands hurt from grasping the gurney for so long.

“I'm not doing so great, sweetie…” She had said. Two men talking behind her. Her dad and Hill were gone. West was there.

“I'm sorry I asked,” Meg finally gathered, headache suddenly subsiding, like it never was. “Sorry for your loss, he must have been a wonderful mentor.” West bowed slightly and Meg did the same before turning around and going through the doors.

[lily-orchard-gossip-blog]

Hello hello again! It's good to have you back for a little while! Unfortunately there is a lot of infighting in the critical sphere right now and it's not very fun to follow. And worse still Lily is as smug as ever. People are too invested in who ripped off what, who's disrespecting this or that, they should just be having fun at Lily's expense. That's what Saiscribbles has done, and you can tell how effective it is because Lily has tried every strategy in the book to prove how not mad she is.

You know what?

I think I would like to poke fun at the whole thing. I mean, it's sounds like she's gotten a bit ridiculous since I've been gone. (Ridiculous sounds like an understatement, thought.)

I've done serious and it's exhausting. You can only take her serious for so long before you realize she doesn't really even know or believe what she's saying.

As for the fighting, well... It's a shame, but let's try to focus on what's at the core of this blog: Gossiping about Lily.

...But I do have one thing I want to get off my chest, so I will mention it here and then move on. It is under the read bar just so those who don't care can ignore it.

I do have one thing to say about the drama, and that's about Ethel.

They are a liar liar pants on fire.

Seriously, I watched Evangeline Skovs video, which was one of the better coverages on the subject and there was no plagiarism. Not even of me, and I was a source!

Never mind that fact that Ethel legit lied about my blog in their rebuttal, claiming that Levi couldn't find anything on my blog about their video, or glade, so Evangeline was lying.

Their proof? Levi used the search bar, used the word minor and glade, and nothing came up except one post...

Fun fact: I'm bad at tagging things, and my search bar is kind of useless because of that.

(Side note: why would I use glade's name? Why would I want to draw attention to someone who I assumed wanted to be left alone? I'm pretty sure that was made clear in the video.)

Anyway, if you used my archive you could easily find TONES of posts from me talking about the video in question with details.

Here's one that Ethel conveniently left out:

And you know what's hilarious about that? They reblogged this take to try and rebuke it on their tumblr. (That they have long since abandoned.)

I decided to ignore it, because obviously I'm not going to try and get in a fight with them, and Ethel was so mad by that they messaged me directly to try and threaten me with legal jargon.

So I blocked them.

But hey, since I'll probably never bother with this again, here are the messages. Enjoy old drama from like...2 years ago:

Image text here:

[Okay, I've put this off for as long as possible, but please, read this case study as right now you are parroting harmful legal advice. Victim testimony not only constitutes evidence, but can be sufficient evidence to convict, a fact that was tested in Commonwealth v Gustavo Gonzalez Santos in Massachusetts.

I’ll highlight two relevant sections in case you don’t have the time to read the entire thing: “The defendant's sole argument on appeal is that the evidence was not sufficient to support his convictions. The defendant asserts that "there were no witnesses to the alleged assaults," "no physical evidence," "no medical or forensic evidence," and "no expert testimony." He argues that "there was absolutely no conclusive evidence presented at trial that suggested the [d]efendant's guilt beyond a reasonable doubt."” And: “Here, the victim testified to facts that constituted each element of the charged offenses. Her testimony, which the jury found to be credible, was sufficient, standing alone, to support a finding beyond a reasonable doubt as to each of the convictions. See, e.g., Commonwealth v. Lawrence, 68 Mass. App. Ct. 103, 104 (2007)

("The victim's testimony was sufficient evidence of [indecent assault and battery on a child under age fourteen]"); Commonwealth v. Gonsalves, 23 Mass. App. Ct. 184, 185 (1986) ("The victim's account of what the defendant did to him in the apartment was sufficient to overcome the defendant's motion for a required finding of not guilty of rape"). The idea that long infected our legal system that the victim's testimony in sexual assault and rape cases is less credible than the testimony of victims in cases involving other types of crimes -- an idea that reflected nothing more than sexism and an unwillingness on the part of our courts to treat sexual crimes as the gravely serious matter that they are -- has been rejected both by statute and by common law.”

When you and others continue to parrot the myth that victim testimony does not constitute as valid evidence, you are harming victims of rape and abuse. This is straight up rape culture and, since I’m pushing back any video coverage on the matter until I’ve finished dealing with Lily because I don’t want to muddle things, I need you to stop promoting falsehoods. We have legal members on our team who have passed the bar, Patchie does not, Opal does not, and neither does You Can Eat Hearts. You are causing unnecessary harm to victims by breathing life into myths constructed by rape culture. To be clear, I am not asking for your denouncement of certain people, just for you to please, stop publishing bad legal takes.

This is also the case in Canada, if you're wondering - https://www.accused.ca/evidence.htm

Sorry, I just realized I didn't give you the US case study. Here it is - http://masscases.com/cases/app/100/100massappct1.html#:~:text=The%20jury%20found%20the%20defendant,We%20affirm. ]

Oct 30, 2022 9:16 AM

Whew, you have no idea how long I wanted to spill this tea.

Alright, I've said what I've wanted to say on this topic. I'm now going to focus on laughing at Lily and her horrible incest stories.

[bubble-dream-inc]

Lemniscate (the place between sleeping and awake)

a chance encounter with your superior during a very lonely holiday season leads to an interesting conversation and an insight on yours and Ghost’s relationship.

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader

rbs greatly appreciated!

WC: 4,8k

a/n: i had to repost this bc tumblr was being fussy and hiding it oops. also i was listening to so handsome hello by woodkid while writing this so there’s my song rec for the day. i am down bad for this man someone help me! thank u loml @deafeningcat for being the best beta reader ever, always <3

warnings: explicit talk about death, war, trauma and violence, suggestive, profanity, ghost being ooc, sex as a coping mechanism for ptsd, heavy antimilitarism, angst to fluff, slight prey and size kink if you squint, non intentional liverpool slander, reader is part of 141, soap calls you "bonnie" once but otherwise no gender especified for reader, reader thinks they can fix him and is sorta emotionally dependent so its kinda toxic idk, intentional repeating of words, christmas/holidays ambience. MDNI

The puddles rippled under your boots, and right there under the faint street light which reflected the light drizzle of rain darkening the already pitch black night sky, you remembered how much you hate the holidays. Sure, it felt nice not having to worry that much about being ambushed or shot or killed for once, but you’d be lying if you said you looked forward to having time off from work. Having spent the last few years constantly living on edge, running solely on the primal instinct of survival for weeks on end had you addicted to the adrenaline, and you forgot what it’s like to be completely at ease a long time ago. 

You felt your skin dampen under your clothes in the humid air. You haven’t bothered with an umbrella; you have been through worse. Liverpool was never your cup of tea, the sky was too gray and the wind felt like tiny needles attacking your skin on the rare occasion it wasn’t raining, and in moments like these you missed the scorching summer sun from your hometown. But again, could you really call it home? That thought had been lingering in the back of your head as an ugly reminder of one of the shittiest parts of your job ever since a few days ago when the base you were stationed in was filled with the sound of rambunctious laughter and the smell of cheap cigarettes and beer, all of it a reflect of a mission well done. The intel was useful, the danger was dealt with, and your teammates could not be more grateful the timing was just right so that they could go spend some time off with their families for the holidays. You weren’t really thinking too hard about it, too absorbed in your teasing banter with Gaz, until Soap turned to you.

“What about you, bonnie? Where ya spendin’ your holidays at? Going home?”

You had shaken your head no with a chuckle, swallowing the bad taste the word home left in your mouth and masking your discomfort. Having all their attention on you as your team mates waited for your answer wasn’t inherently bad, but you did have to ignore Simon’s piercing stare from across the group, focusing only on Soap and trying to not give in to your instinct of looking back at your Lieutenant. As the years went by, you’d found out that was just the way that he was, and you had to learn how to differentiate when he actually wanted for someone to be scared by his constant, terrifying eye contact, and when to know he was simply looking in your general vicinity. Not that it worked that well, of course, since just his massive presence and the low timbre of his voice could make anyone’s fight or flight instinct blare sirens in their head, and yet, at some point you realized you liked it. You felt like a prey under his gaze, and the fact that it both terrified and excited you was intoxicating. 

“Nah. I’m heading to Liverpool, i think, as usual” 

Being in Liverpool for you was far from pleasant, but a few years before you decided to go there for your time off just because it was closer to the base you were stationed in and you had nowhere else to go, and it became a tradition, even if it sometimes felt like self punishment. It certainly seemed like it, you thought as you wandered aimlessly through a quieter part of the city, occasionally passing through a group of tipsy barely-of-age kids, or a happy looking family going back to the comfort of their cozy homes together. It made your chest ache, but the loneliness got duller after so much time being surrounded only by the 141 members and having to watch so many people you knew die on the front lines. 

“Do you regret it? Joining the military?”

You had asked Ghost one day after you two had to get holed up in a dingy safe house, trying to pass the time while waiting for exfil. He had stared at you for a few seconds, silently, and you wondered if you had crossed a line by asking something way too personal, but in a moment he was back to staring at the worn out coffee table in front of the couch you were in. 

“No. I did what had to be done at the time.” 

While somewhat cryptic, you accepted his answer without prying for more, but after a few seconds he looked back at you, not going unnoticed how his eyes looked a bit more tired than usual. 

“Do you?”

You remember sighing.

“Everyday. War is hell.” 

He only hummed in response, putting an end to the conversation that had barely been started, but your mind dwelled on your answer. It seemed like ages ago when you were a starry-eyed private, having been fooled by the military propaganda promising you’d be a hero, but that resolve quickly broke a few months later in your first mission, and you certainly didn’t feel like a hero after taking someone else’s life for the first time. 

Lost in thought as you walked, you almost paid no mind to the man in your path that was leaning towards a lamp post and having a cigarette, if not for the fact that even from a distance you could see he was massive. There was only one person you knew that seemed as tall as that, and that was your-

“Lieutenant?” You squinted, being pretty sure you couldn’t mistake your towering 6’4 masked superior over someone else, and he acknowledged you with a look. If he was surprised to see you, he didn't show it. “Liverpool sure is tiny, huh? I thought you were from Manchester.”

“I am.”

His answers were rarely something other than short and dry, and he knew you knew better than to pry into his own personal reasonings, even because you also had no real reason to stick around that city and yet there you were. Still, the laidback-ish atmosphere of being between missions made it easier for you to act a little more daring than usual, treading lightly as you questioned him, unable to hold back your curiosity. Alas, you found yourself hypnotized by the way Simon’s full lips wrapped around his cigarette as he took a slow drag, waiting for you to say something.

“Heading somewhere?” Your voice sounded foreign even to yourself, and you didn’t know whether to blame the cold, the awkwardness of feeling like you were bothering your superior on his time off, or the way just being by his general vicinity made your chest ache with a feeling you hadn’t quite been able to name yet, but you shrugged all of it off and focused on trying to act as normally as possible.

“Not really. Are you?”

“Not really” You mimicked his words, smiling faintly and wanting to imagine that you actually saw mirth in his eyes. “Lookin’ for a pub that’s still open, but I'm not having too much luck with it.” You paused, unable to stop the next words that came out of your mouth. “Care to join me?”

Ghost pondered your bold request for a moment before putting out his cigarette by stepping on it and nodding with his head for you to lead the way. His way of communicating with so little words made you uneasy at first, but nowadays you’d find it endearing. 

And that’s how you ended up in a beaten up looking pub near the port, sitting side by side with Simon by the bar, acutely aware of the bartender eyeing you two warily. You weren’t sure if he was angry for the fact that the bar actually had customers, which meant he couldn’t go enjoy time off at home, or if he was intimidated by Ghost. Maybe both. It was an otherwise cozy little pub, the warm lighting and the low ceiling made you feel slightly comforted by your surroundings, even if there were only three other customers around and the air smelled of burnt oil and deep fried food. You tapped your fingers on the wooden surface of the bar while waiting for the grumpy bartender to bring your beer, comfortable with the silence between you and Simon. When it arrived, you watched with a side eye, trying to be discreet, as he raised his mask slightly to take a sip of his bourbon, even if you knew he had noticed you.

Ghost’s face was somewhat familiar to you. Less than his body, admittedly.

There were a handful of times you had seen him without his mask, but you had barely committed its features to memory since it had mostly been in the dark confines of his quarters - which made you think how nice it must be to have a rank high enough to have your own room - and in times where staring at his face was not the first thing on your mind. It didn’t matter anyway, knowing he really was handsome after all under the balaclava didn’t change how your chest would tighten at the sight of him way before you dreamt of seeing his whole face.

Being alone with your superior was hardly foreign at this point, after so many years and everything you had been through together, and while you had never said it directly to him, his company was enjoyable. You remember clearly; It had happened the first time during mid summer after a mission gone particularly wrong in Somalia. One hour in the shower later, scrubbing your skin raw, you still felt dirty and grimy, as if you believed you could let go along with the blood-dirtied water the screams of all the civilians you had heard and the image ingrained into your brain of all the innocent people lying dead on the streets, massacred without a second thought. You tried showering, smoking, drinking, going for a walk, talking to your fellow team mates - all of them who looked just about as shaken as you were - but nothing could get your mind off of it. Mid walk, you had rounded a corner inside the base and locked eyes with Ghost, who was coming from the opposite direction, and, for reasons unknown, something instantly changed in the air between you. Sure, you had flirted a bit and perhaps given some indication of your attraction towards him before, but at that moment maybe you looked more distraught than you thought, and in only a split second after the very sudden eye contact, a non-verbal agreement was set, and quickly you found yourself glued to his broad chest, his hand lifting his mask just enough so you could connect your lips in a messy and aggressive kiss as he guided you to the door of his room. There’s no way to tell how long you were there for, but as you felt him blindly in the dark to hug his neck while he was inside you for the nth time, you were grateful he didn’t comment on your sobs that you now allowed to flow as freely as your tears, and, in turn, you didn’t comment on how tender your huge, scary superior could be, holding your face gently and whispering praises, comforting you the best he could. 

It became something akin of a habit. At first it was just fucking to destress or to not have to deal in a proper way with all the trauma that came with your line of work, but then you started to linger. His touches became gentler, his big hands would stroke your skin instead of just gripping it hard enough to bruise, and you found yourself staring at his strong and scarred back one morning as he slept somewhat soundly beside you. Your hands itched to trace them, and at the moment you decided you wouldn’t mind sharing a bed, literally, with your superior more often, it was when you also realized you were fucked. To the others, surely it looked just like a very unethical and paperwork-worthy sexual tension, but you weren’t stupid, and not a teenager anymore, so you couldn’t find any excuses for the lingering glances and touches, how you started worrying more for him in battlefield, and you didn’t know if it was comforting or terrifying for you to think that he probably realized what was going on inside your head whenever he looked back at you, even if his hardened and unreadable gaze never faltered. Some nights, you’d find yourself alone in your cot wondering if you were imagining it all or if the longing you felt for his reciprocity was too delusional, and the thought made your throat ache in the worst way possible. You knew it was a bad idea, but you were unable to restrain yourself from finding your way back to his bed more often than not - and whenever he’d open the door for you when the base was already dead silent, realizing he also seemed glad to see you made all of your rational thoughts go out the window. 

“Quit the starin’.” 

Oh. Right. You were still looking at him. You muttered out a low sorry and looked down at your cup, well aware of Simon’s gaze burning holes into your face. So much for not staring.

“Why don’t you ever go home?”

There’s that word again. You wondered if your experience with feeling so stateless after fleeing from the place you used to call your own such a long time ago was that uncommon between soldiers, and suddenly the beer in your tongue didn’t taste that bitter anymore. 

“It was just a place like any other. I’m afraid there hasn’t been anythin’ for me there in a while, so i guess i don’t really got one anymore.” 

But again, you did wonder why Simon was all the way over to Liverpool and not Manchester, and a part of you selfishly hoped you weren’t alone with the gut wrenching feeling of not belonging anywhere but your base. Not that he’d ever admit to something like that. Simon was not the kind of man to say his thoughts clearly, or with words, for that matter.

“No family? Friends?” 

Chuckling dryly, you’d let yourself linger a bit longer on Ghost’s sudden interest in actually knowing you more than physically if his bluntness didn’t amuse you in a bitter way.

“People realize really quickly how hard it is to keep relationships with someone who’s gone for months on end, and could very well be dead in a ditch the next time you try to call. Can’t say I blame ‘em.”

Simon said nothing in response, but his gaze on you seemed to soften a bit. Experiencing him outside of the battlefield was the kind of thing that would surely give you whiplash, years of military experience and living through horrors beyond comprehension would, of course, make him have a dangerous and reserved aura 24/7, but watching him let loose just a little bit and allow himself to be minimally vulnerable through his gaze and casually, softer spoken words were a new sort of fascinating. He was never the kind of person to ask things out of politeness, no, he was brazen and direct, so his genuine curiosity in you made it difficult to calm your already palpitating heartbeat. 

Under the lights of a very dimly lit pub in East Liverpool, you were seeing not Ghost, not your Lieutenant, but only Simon Riley. You came to the conclusion you really liked this side of him. So, you decided to take your chances and prod a little bit more.

“What about you, Lieutenant? Where is home for you?”

“Classified.”

You chuckled, and a tiny, barely-there smirk formed on his lips before he hid it with the rim of his bourbon glass. It was worth a try.

You lost track of how long you were sitting there, in silence, just listening to the static-ish audio of the shitty television on the corner of the bar or the idle chat of other patrons, occasionally muttering something to Ghost, but it all felt superficial. You wanted to jump him, to strip him bare, not of his clothes, but of all of him that was a façade, and lay down every word left unsaid. Maybe it was selfish, but you wanted him to let you care for him the way he cared for you. For every time he’d wordlessly patch up your wounds in a dirty alleyway, push you out of a sniper’s line of sight or bark orders for you to get to fucking safety, you wanted to help him through each nightmare (that he thought you didn’t notice it plagued his nights more often than not, leaving him restless the next day), and hold him close when the throes of carrying a whole team and an entire life of trauma on his back became too much to bear on his own. You felt like a fool, pining over a man who made no effort to hide how little he trusted people.

Soon enough, the pub grew quieter and more devoid of people, and at some point you and Ghost decided the bartender’s gaze was way too unwelcoming, as he clearly wanted to go home, so you wordlessly decided to go back to your aimless wandering. A few of your old army colleagues wouldn’t hesitate to pull off their military card to get what they wanted, whenever and however they wanted, but just the thought made your stomach turn in disgust. Your blood stained hands didn’t feel like the ones of a hero that deserved to be pampered. 

“Why are you still here anyway?”

He had asked you a few days after your conversation in that dingy safehouse. You had found yourself brushing shoulders side by side together after you went out for a smoke in the base, running into him leaned against a parked truck, lost in thought. For some reason, the question made you feel ashamed to meet his eyes, even if his tone wasn’t accusatory; just curious.

“I feel like it’s too late for me. I’ve seen too much. There’s nothing else I know how to do at this point.”

Your tongue felt like lead inside your mouth. A part of you longed for an early retirement so you could live a quiet and monotonous life somewhere in the countryside, but you also knew most people with your lifestyle wouldn’t live enough to see retirement.  Alas, deep inside you felt like it was impossible to not grow restless if you were to live a life free of the adrenaline you embraced as a vice. It felt hypocritical, suffering over the consequences of your own choices, but God knows you’d leave in a heartbeat if you weren’t already too far deep in. You’d suppose becoming a soldier had its good sides, though, even if just the idea of finding any comfort in your work made you uneasy. Surely you’d never have met the 141 otherwise and, consequently, made them your little dysfunctional found family. You’d hold onto that for the sake of your sanity. On your side, Ghost hummed, acknowledging what you were saying, and maybe you’d find he could relate to your feelings, somehow. 

“It’s difficult to let go of a whole life of violence.”

His words had stuck with you, as wise and cryptic in a way only he managed to pull it off.

Outside, the drizzle seemed to have gotten a bit stronger in the last few hours, but neither of you cared enough for it. It didn’t feel that bad compared to the storms that rained over you in open fields or the mud you’d have to crawl across to stay hidden sometimes. You’d feel pretty stupid if this little rain actually got you sick, but that was a worry for future you. It didn’t even cross your mind to ask Ghost if you were heading somewhere, you just followed him blindly, analyzing him in silence and noticing he looked good in civilian clothes, the plain black hoodie fitting him perfectly. From the little distance you walked besides him, you could notice he was smelling good, a mixture of cologne and his natural musk which you were already very well acquainted with.

The street was clearly in a commercial district, and it felt even quieter than the one you were before. All the stores were closed with only a faint night light illuminating a few of their interiors, and you appreciated the faint smell of the sea by being somewhat close to the port. 

You enjoyed the stillness of it all and the lack of people to make you jealous with their normal, happy lives. 

Subconsciously, you barely noticed that you ended up scooting even closer to Simon as you walked, happy he didn’t seem to mind it. 

Suddenly, he stopped mid-walk, and you became hyper aware of how much you were staring at him. God, you felt like a creep. After a second, he spoke in a murmur, not turning to look at you.

“Since when?”

You waited for him to elaborate what he meant, but it never came. Chuckling nervously, you peered up at him, confused.

“Since when…what?”

Finally, he turned to look at you with something indescribable in his eyes. It made you feel small, like he wanted to devour you, but it also made your heart leap in your chest, like he wanted to devour you. 

“I know how you feel about me. You’re not very subtle about it. I’m not bloody stupid, kid. ”

Your head snapped towards him at his harsh words, even if his low voice and gentle-ish tone didn’t quite reflect the true nature of them, but any witty reply you had died down once you saw how his eyes were downturned in unease.

Oh.

Oh.

You realized what he’s talking about, and turns out your late night musings were right - at least part of them. Simon leaves no opening to figure out by his body language what the bringing up of the topic means to him. Maybe he doesn’t care. Maybe he will reject you and reprimand you for being unprofessional (as if loving him was more unprofessional than fucking your superior). Maybe-

“I’m…not sure.” You admit, refusing to meet his steely gaze. “It just…happened. Stopped being just casual sex a while ago.”

His silence makes seconds feel like hours. You try to control your labored breathing by listening to the soft pitter-patter of the rain that’s back to drizzling on the store awning you’re both under. A part of you wishes the rain would suddenly get so strong it would break the awning and drag you away with the current from Simon’s soul-crushing silence. You feel stupid, foolish.

Fool, fool, fool-

He closes the distance between your bodies. Having never paid much detailed attention to the rare occasions when gloves didn’t adorn his hands outside the bedroom, you suddenly notice how much his palms feel a pleasant kind of rough and calloused when they don’t carry the intent of ravaging you, so big against your face as he gently cradles you. Of course, he knows you’re a soldier, not some porcelain doll to be easily broken, but God knows how much seeing him hold you as if you’re something precious makes your once-labored breathing come to a halt altogether. His eyes are soft, half lidded, and uncertain on you as he murmurs out sorrowfully.

“You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into, kid.”

For the first time ever, you feel like you’re the only person who’s ever seen Simon Riley look scared. You don’t know if he’s afraid of hurting you or the other way around.

Instinctively, your own hands gingerly go to the top of his in a light caress, and you fight against the urge to close your eyes and breathe in his musk as you lean into his touch. This up close he also smells faintly like cigarettes.  

“Maybe not.” You admit, and you hope he can notice the way you look up at him with hearts in your eyes and willing to wear your own on your sleeve. “But I want to find out.”

He doesn’t really smile - he almost never does - , but his gaze holds a promise in it, a vow. One of his hands leaves your face to hike up his mask, and you expect it to stop just below his nose, as always, but he keeps going until it rests on top of his dirty blonde hair, making your breath hitch once again. You were wrong about him; you didn’t need to strip him bare, no, you realize he’d do it for you if you asked. A long time ago you decided you didn’t give a shit about how his face looked, but you made sure to take a good look at him, finally committing his features to memory, acknowledging his trust in you and also how much you really were a fool by underestimating it before. The stubble on his jaw feels coarse under your fingertips, and you indulge yourself by lightly tracing the scar on his lip the way you wanted to do with all of his marks ever since that morning. It occurs to you that even when the hookups turned into something more, you had never seen him so vulnerable, and it sets an equally giddy and unsettling feeling in the pit of your stomach, as if you were witnessing something you weren’t supposed to, but you weren’t about to question his resolve. Taking the reins - as he always does - his lips are on yours in an instant, and you swear you’d die happily at that instant.

The way he kisses you is something new, slow and passionate, as if trying to savor every piece of you at his pace and communicate what he doesn’t know how to put into words. You’d kissed before, sure, but it was always animalistic, an aggressive dance filled with wanton growls deep from his throat and your involuntary whines whenever he would bite your lip - a gazelle in the jaws of a lion - and in the occasions sex was tender, it was most likely because something bad had happened, and you’d hide your face in the crook of his neck so he could pretend not to notice how much you needed it - him -  to cope and how much his touch kept you grounded; you’d like to imagine yours made him feel something of the sorts as well. Simon Riley was not the type of man to engage in raw emotional affairs without getting something out of it. And yet, as you close your eyes to hug his neck, bringing his large body impossibly closer to yours, you feel like he is finally giving all of him to you in the rawest way he knows how to. Of course, you’re not teenagers, and with the way of life you lead, emotional attachment can make any soldier feel dreadful for their future, so it would be foolish to expect a full on love confession in the rain, but, if anything, you suddenly realize you can feel Simon’s heart beating fast on his chest through your own, and that is enough for you, making you smile against him. 

When you separate, there’s still minimal distance between you two, the air around you feels lighter, and you surround yourself in affection by the way Simon looks down at you adoringly. Any outsider would be quick to say he has the look of a stone cold predator, and he is as unreadable as they come, but once you start dealing with the true man under the mask - even if only figuratively -, you realize that his eyes are truly the window of his soul, and any words left unspoken you’d die to uncover are visible in his dark hues the moment he looks at you. A few blocks away, a clock tower strikes midnight and you spare the building a look from where you can see it.

“Merry Christmas, Simon.” You murmur, knowing full well religious holidays are neither yours or Simon’s thing. The irony of it all is lost when he huffs out a small noise of amusement and distances himself just enough to extend his arm for you to take, his gaze never leaving your form. You could point out he hasn’t really lowered his mask yet but you enjoy the view too much so you might as well indulge in it while he doesn’t remember to do so. His bicep is thick and strong under your fingers as you grip him gently, and he nods forward beyond the awning.

“It stopped raining. Let's get going.”

[javihavee]

I'M OPENING UP COMMS WHO CHEERED!

I will draw all your sillies :3 for a price :3 I'm very excited.

TRANSCRIPTS AND PROCESS DETAILS UNDER THE CUT!

PROCESS: Contact is to be established through tumblr dms and then into discord (you'll send me a friend request, and then you can unfriend me when the commission is done, if you want) Once we've had an extensive conversation of your request (references, discussing the details of your commission, pay estimates, etc) I will require a payment of 15$, then, I'll start on your piece and will be sending you pictures of the work in progress for requesting changes and tweaks. I will update you regularly by sending you pictures of the sketch, then the lineart, then the flat colors and the rendered piece. If there's any changes requested, I will update you to double-check if they're satisfactory before following to the next stage of the process. If you wanna see more of my art to make sure what you want/if you want to commission, please take a look at the tag #javi art on my blog OR dm me for pictures of my sketchbook which are not posted. My commissions are for personal use only. You CANNOT re-sell them, trace them, or claim them as your own.

Will draw:

-Slight gore/blood

-Original Characters

-Characters other than MCYT ones

-Real people

-Anthro & humanoid

-SFW nudity

-Suggestive (only if it's original characters)

Will NOT draw:

-NSFW

-Extreme gore

-Animals (only applies if they're the sole focus of the piece)

-Mecha and/or complicated machinery

-Complex backgrounds

-Hateful imagery

-Adult/Minor ships

-Original characters without a character sheet/references

[bitternest]

/rubs eyes it's seven am who gets up at 7am

People who get dinged repeatedly about Tumblr shutting down apparently.

Christ on a bike. Okay, long post inbound. On Tumblr's fate, enshittification and navigating the post-web2.0 world.

So I've been meaning to make a post like this for a while now, but because tech is literally my job I... haven't.

First off, Tumblr isn't being shut down. It's being put on legacy support. Maybe one day it will be shut down, but Automattic seems to have the costs dialed in and don't seem to want to nuke it. Yay.

This day was always going to come for one simple reason - social media websites are fundamentally impossible to fund. The cost of that much image and video hosting and bandwidth is not scalable without passing that cost over to the user. In most cases, this is done by making the user the product. But this is non-sustainable. As Tumblr discovered, as Twitter is discovering and as Google Has Ordained, that social media will inevitably be censored and restricted at the whim of the people actually paying - advertisers. And then your users stop caring. Some sites get around this by also robbing you of your dopamine production as well as your privacy - i.e. getting you engaged with their Algorithm.

So, enough with the reasoning, what can you do about this. Well, you can try the next big thing. For many people, that's bluesky. I don't know about you, but I don't think highly of Twitter 2.0 - from the dude who couldn't make Twitter profitable the first time around. And to be clear, its sole goal is to be profitable. It's a corporation. That's... it's purpose. It's purpose is to extract wealth.

For me, the only two vaguely viable options are cohost and the fediverse. Cohost because haha palette-swapped Tumblr but also because the core ideas the founders had are neat and resonate with me.

And the fediverse because that's the only technologically viable way forward for what we've come to expect social networks to be. It is a network in the real sense, an interconnected sprawl of self-hosted servers that individuals or communities are responsible for and the best way to deal with the costs of social media - distributing them. Mastodon is the most famous service in this space, but there are others. Explaining the fediverse outside of "a network of social networks" is beyond the scope of this post and is a real issue with adoption because, no, it's not necessarily easy.

But now we get to the real crux of my post:

The resilient things aren't easy. If you want to build and participate in something lasting, you need to do some hard things. Sometimes that's learning what the fuck @bitternest@mastodon.me.world is supposed to mean. Sometimes it's learning how to read an RSS feed. For artists it can mean learning to set up your own website, with zero code and for free even! (sorry @varethane, i'll get the post up eventually) For tech people it means finding an IRC (what, you think Slack is gonna survive its own enshittification?).

Frequently, it's learning how to back up your posts. Because no matter the site, the day will come when hosting 20 billion jpegs overtakes the cash flow of shiny rainbow crabs.

It is a requirement of the post-web2.0 world that you become more tech-savvy. As we tire of corporate horseshit, we must become more capable of forging our own way. If you want to stay connected, you need to learn how to make and maintain those connections, both social and technological.

And to not end this post on a somber and self-important note, that mastodon id isn't me - I never joined because no server ever appealed to me. If anyone's got suggestions I'm listening. I'm bitternest on cohost as well. Mutuals can DM me for my Discord.

Miss me with those bluesky invites tho

[sjbattleangel]

Public Service Announcement: Please, stay away away from HellYeahHeroes, Ubernegro, Chadfarsight*, KK4EverStuff, and Cohore.

*I'm aware Chadfaresight doesn't speak to HellYeahHeroes anymore but she's still responsible for spewing the very same toxicity.

HellYeahHeroes/HellYeahTeenSuperHeroes, Ubernegro, Chadfarsight, Cohore and others are the most vile, most pettiest, most hateful people who have no right to call themselves "comic fans".

[Trigger warning for screencaps in the links] They will personally target comic writers using hyperbolic, personal attacks on them: Disgusting insults, making horrible assumptions of them like calling them "Hacks" multiple times, along with "Pussys", "eugenists", "homophobes", "perverts", "mysoginysts", "sex offenders", "cowards", "rape apologists", "fascist sympathizers", "Nazi apologists", "dog f***ers", telling them to "lick goats" and more.

The way they talk about writers like Jason Aaron, Jonathan Hickman, Ed Brisson, Matthew Rosenburg, Dan Slott, Donny Cates, Brian Michael Bendis, James Tynion IV, Scott Snyder, Joshua Williamson and others, it's clear that they hate them solely as people. In fact, they have held a deep personal hatred for them WAY before they read any of their works. Yet they will happily mask what is clearly a bloody vendetta against people ,who never harmed them, under a smokescreen of "criticising crappy writing" and wanting their favourite characters "treated with respect".

KK4EverStuff has gone on to send death threats and wish harm upon creators, it's very possible HellYeahHeroes, Ubernegro, Cohore and Chadfarisght have done so too.

Please, report and block them. They are the most hate-filled toxic people to ever exist in the comic fandom.

Eventually, My friend Samasmith23 and I bumped into @Majingojira and told him HellYeahHeroes and co.'s behaviour since he is their friend. Because of his more chilled, open-minded attitude, we thought he would listen to us and condemn this behaviour but instead...

...he just kept shifting the goalposts; using whataboutisms: Like "Oh, HYH doesn't talk about comics anymore", "KK isn't a member of our group", "That was old stuff", "he (Samasmith) should hold SJBattleAngel to a similar standard", "Screencaps as ammunition is a C*micsgate tactic" and others.

He then suggested that I "fabricated" the screenshots.

But worst of all?

He made excuses for their abhorrent behaviour towards creators. He dismissed our calls for acountability as "tone-policing", being "puritanical", operating under "Tumblr Morality" ect.

He even excused HYH and co's attacking of comic writers by saying: "Complaining about insults towards creators is rich when creators themselves are generally okay with its existence. Just don't do it to their face."

NO.

Calling for innocent creators to be fired is NEVER "okay"!

Telling them to "lick goats" is NEVER "okay"!

Attacking them as "perverts", "eugenists", "fascism apologists" is NEVER "okay"!

Encouuraging harrasment against them NEVER, NEVER "okay"!

Sending them literal death threats is NEVER, NEVER, NEVER "okay"!

Majingojira turns a blind eye to toxic fan harassment and, by doing so, enables it. Stay away from him.

I've wrote to multiple comic/nerd/fandom blogs on Tumblr, telling them about HellYeahHeroes's and his friend's toxicity; asking them to shame this sort of behaviour. But most never reply back. They probably think I'm some sort of "troll" trying to "start drama". And I don't blame them, HellYeahHeroes, Majingojira, Ubernegro and others are some of the most beloved, well-respected comics/social justice bloggers on this website, I understand looking up to someone thinking they could never do any wrong. I know because I was once one of those people.

You know, this takes a toll on my mental health: Trying to tell people that some of the most revered members of our communities are actually horrible pieces of work, but they don't believe you. It's like being trapped in a room all alone, with no door. You scream the truth at the walls, hoping a door will appear. But it never does, and you're stuck forever with no-one to hear your cries. And it hurts. This pain of never being believed.

I hope you all understand.

I just want our community to be safe and healthy. Please, believe me.

Dear @Hellyeahheroes, @ubernegro, @farsight-the-char @Cohore,

The way you targeted and demonized creators like Dan Slott, Tom King, Donny Cates, Jonathan Hickman, Ed Brisson, Matthew Rosenburg, Grant Morrison, Jason Aaron, Brian Micheal Bendis, Adam Glass, Tom Taylor, Scott Snyder, James Tynion IV, Joshua Williamson, Rian Johnson, Neil Druckman was just disgusting and horrible. You have every right to dislike their work but to personally attack and vilify them is unacceptable! They are not "misogynists", they are not "creeps", "they are not "racists", they are not "antisemites", they are not "eugenists", they are not "fascist sympathizers", they are not "Nazi apologists", they are not "closeted Neo-Nazis" but most of all: They are not "hacks!"

To @Hellyeahheroes, @ubernegro, @farsight-the-char, @Cohore,: Seeing your disturbing parasoical hatred of creators like Slott, King, Cates, Hickman, Brisson, Rosenburg, Aaron, Bendis, Snyder, Tynion Williamson, it's clear that outside of comics, way before you read any of their work you've always held a personal vendetta against them as people.

Why? Did they personally hurt you or your loved ones? Did they ruin your lives? Even if they did, that gives you no right to email them countless death threats!

I don't know what you think but personally attacking these writers and sending them death threats will not magically undo the likes of One More Day, Robin: One Year Later, Avengers Academy: Arena, Avengers Undercover, Heroes In Crisis! No! Your actions are the very reason people see nerd fandom as a toxic cesspool of bullying and entitlement. And you're just proving them right!

Apologise, do better or leave.

Tell Lily Orchard, CinemaSins and Mr. Plinkett I said hi.

[saintmeghanmarkle]

Who would you like to be the interviewer? by u/Soliri

Who would you like to be the interviewer? If - as many of us suspect - Ozemprah’s recent ‘sweet nod’ to Meagain referring some beauty products, is an indication of O gearing up for a divorce interspew, wouldn’t it be lovely if the Princess of Wales was to give an interview of her own? Please correct me if I am wrong, but I think no senior (respected) member of the BRF has done an intimate interview in recent years, and we all know O would k8ll for that coup.Were Catherine to give a one-on-one interview - reflecting on the last year, talking about her hopes for the future of her, William, the children and the monarchy in a modern era - who would you think would a) piss Meagain off most; b) piss O off most; and/or c) be the person you would most like to see interview Catherine?I have no suggestions myself really - just wanting a bit of levity in these fraught times. But I would love to see (for shits and giggles) see Catherine with a comedian with gravitas like Stephen Fry 😁 post link: https://ift.tt/kULugSM author: Soliri submitted: November 05, 2024 at 02:55PM via SaintMeghanMarkle on Reddit disclaimer: all views + opinions expressed by the author of this post, as well as any comments and reblogs, are solely the author's own; they do not necessarily reflect the views of the administrator of this Tumblr blog. For entertainment only.

[whencyclopedia]

The Scientific Revolution

Before class, students will be asked to read two World History Encyclopedia articles.

Introduction (10-15 minutes)

Hook: Start with a thought-provoking question: "How would you determine whether something is true or not? What process would you use?"

Write students’ responses on the board to highlight different approaches, such as personal experience, advice from others, intuition, or logical reasoning.

Explain that before the Scientific Revolution, people often relied on methods like tradition, philosophical reasoning, or religious teachings to determine the truth.

Introduce the idea that the Scientific Method emerged as a new approach to discovering truth, emphasizing that this method is based on observation, experimentation, and evidence rather than solely on abstract reasoning or accepted beliefs.

Hands-On Activity (25-30 minutes)

Present the following scenario to the class: "A farmer notices that some crops in his field are growing poorly while others are thriving. He wants to understand why this is happening."

Divide the class into an even number of small groups. Half of the groups will receive Handout 1: Philosophical Approach and the other half will receive Handout 2: Scientific Method Approach.

Instruct each group to brainstorm solutions to the farmer's problem based on their assigned approach.

Philosophical Approach: Groups might suggest reasons based on general principles, such as the alignment of the stars, the will of the gods, or moral interpretations of natural events.

Scientific Method Approach: Groups should focus on making specific observations, forming testable hypotheses, designing experiments, and collecting data.

Pair each Philosophical Approach group with a Scientific Method Approach group. Have the paired groups present their ideas to each other. Encourage them to discuss and debate the differences between the philosophical reasoning and the scientific method.

Class Discussion and Reflection (15-20 minutes)

Reflect on the activity, highlighting the strengths and limitations of each approach and the importance of the Scientific Method in advancing knowledge and solving problems.

Summarize key takeaways from the lesson, emphasizing how the Scientific Method has led to a more systematic and evidence-based approach to knowledge.

Reflect on how the Scientific Method has shaped modern knowledge and technology and ask students how they might use the Scientific Method in their own lives or future careers.

Homework/Extension

Students will pick one scientist from the collection of 12 Great Scientists of the Scientific Revolution, read their biography, and answer questions on the worksheet (see below). If needed, further research can be done to complete the worksheet.

Continue reading...

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for name dropping some of my friends’ connections?

i (20X) have multiple friends that have connections to pretty famous internet celebrities, creators, etc. i wouldn’t call them household names, because a lot of them are pretty contained to solely online presences, but definitely names most twitter/tumblr users would recognize. i won’t go into too much detail for privacy reasons, but essentially, i’m two degrees of separation from a LOT of popular internet creators.

this isn’t something i talk about often, if really at all. i’ll mention these people to my irl friends all the time, because they’re also my friends, but never about their connections (unless it’s relevant at the time). i met almost all of them naturally, some without even knowing about their connections, either having common interests, or being in the same discord, fanproject, etc. i didn’t befriend them in an attempt to get closer to whatever celebrity they know is what i’m trying to say. at least two of them even made said connection after we’d become acquaintances.

college recently started again, and me and my roommates were invited to a party hosted by some of the girls that live on our floor to get to know everyone better. we ended up playing two truths, one lie to break the ice and get more comfortable with each other. me and my roommates all have a bit of a flair for the dramatic, and stories to back it up, so when it got to their turns (all of them went before me), they went all out. for example, one of them brought up how her moms met david bowie or something because they happened to be bowling in the same alley and ended up talking and getting drinks together. i forget who it actually was, but still. very out there, absurd stories that sound unbelievable/fake, but very much happened.

this is where i may be the asshole. when it got to my turn, i ended up name-dropping some of my connections. i said something along the lines of “i have fairly close connections to x, y, and z.” writing it like that doesn’t have the same impact, but you get my point. everyone in the room knew who they were is the important part. the room guessed what the lie was wrong, and promptly began to ask how i knew the people i’d named. i explained i had a few internet friends that had/have worked closely with them, and that i either knew certain things the general public doesn’t, or that i’ve had the privilege of contributing to projects/suggesting ideas because of it. it’s important to mention that i didn’t lead with having insider knowledge/positions, because i know i’d be the asshole if i had. they asked, i answered as much as i could, which wasn’t much more than i stayed here. i didn’t say any specific projects or ideas for what i think are fairly obvious reasons. they hadn’t reacted very much to any of my roommates’ insane bullshit, so i hadn’t expected such a response and thought my truth was fairly tame in comparison, honestly. (another example: one of them has nearly drowned 7 times, with 5 of those times all happening on a tuesday. they’ve told me all 7 of those stories and i think they’re super interesting, a lot more than me just having connections to people i don’t even personally know.)

anyways. the conversation moved on, the same continued, all seems good. that was a week ago, for reference. i find out a few of the people there are in my classes, which is great! i get to talking to most of them, and they’re all as friendly as they were when we met, except for one, who i’ll call holly (not her real name). holly acts cordial when she has to (group discussion, that sort of stuff) but whenever i try to talk or interact with her outside of that, she outright ignores me. she fully walked past me once despite us not only making eye contact, but me waving and calling her name. i didn’t get why she was acting like that all of a sudden, because she didn’t have any problems with me during the party. i didn’t think i’d done anything to wrong her, but just in case, i reached out to one of her roommates to ask if holly had told them anything about it, or if they remembered me doing something to make her react that way that i just forgot or didn’t realize i’d done.

one of them got back to me today that holly had apparently gone on a tirade about how disgusting i was, how i was clearly just “using” my friends because of their connections, that i only used them for clout and popularity, etc. which, as i said, is FULLY not true. what bothers me most is that she reached that conclusion with absolutely no evidence other than one conversation, one that me and all my roommates were clearly using to highlight the more silly/out-there aspects of our lives. most of the time i spent explaining things consisted of me gushing over how cool and hard-working my friends are for having those opportunities and how much i look up to them. i don’t know if she wasn’t paying attention or thought i was lying or what, but now i’m worried i may have actually come off that way. like that maybe i actually WAS just using them in that instance, whether i intended to or not, and that i came off as super assholeish and manipulative. so, AITA?

What are these acronyms?

[towine]

[alhaitham/cyno] revelations

1.5k / rated G 

summary: a fight in the desert claims its latest victim: cyno’s hair.

a little fic inspired by a friend :^) this will remain solely on tumblr for now bc it’s short and written pretty quickly. i promise it’s much more lighthearted than the beginning suggests. 

takes place before the events of AQ chapter 3 act v, so while the gang was planning their coup in aaru village.

- -

An explosion rocked the desert.

Alhaitham wasn’t looking when it happened, too preoccupied with the mercenary doggedly trying to gut him with their scimitar. He heard the boom, felt a rush of heat behind him, and smelled something charred in the air.

Dehya cried, “Cyno!”

And that called all of Alhaitham’s attention.

The mercenary rushed in again, but Alhaitham summoned his sword, knocked the mercenary down with one kick to the stomach, then slammed the sword hilt into their temple. They fell in a heap.

Alhaitham turned, dread in his stomach.

Cyno was kneeling on the ground. Around him were the unconscious forms of various mercenaries.

“I’m fine,” Cyno said, rising to his feet when Dehya and Alhaitham ran over to him. “One of them had an explosive on their belt. My electro triggered it.”

“Yeah, no kidding.” Dehya looked around at the scorch marks littering not only the ground, but the mercenaries’ bodies as well. “Sheesh. Well, it got the job done. You sure you’re okay?”

“Yes, I was unharmed by most of the blast. However…” Cyno hesitated, then turned to show them his back.

Dehya gasped.

The familiar headpiece was in place, but its long tassels were burnt into almost nothingness, with only the smallest tatters still clinging to the top. Cyno’s skin looked tender but not as burned as it could have been, which must have been largely thanks to that spirit he’d summoned in battle. But the most noticeable thing was—

“Your hair,” Alhaitham said numbly.

The fair curtain of Cyno’s hair had been seared away, leaving uneven tresses that reached roughly the nape of his neck.

“Truthfully, I’m more bothered by the headpiece,” Cyno said with a sigh. “It was custom made. Hopefully they can repair it.”

Alhaitham couldn’t stop staring. Cyno looked oddly bare—a ridiculous notion, considering Cyno’s usual appearance was already rather bare. But his shoulder blades, the nape of his neck, they all seemed so… exposed.

An elbow jabbed Alhaitham in the side. He bit down on a curse, then shot a look at Dehya. Dehya only looked at him amusedly.

“Well,” she said, “first thing’s first, let’s head back to Aaru Village. We can see if the Traveler’s back from Avidya Forest, Candace can take a look at your wounds, and I’ll see if I can tidy up your new haircut with some scissors.”

Cyno frowned. “That won’t be necessary.”

“Cyno, you can’t just leave your hair burned at the edges, have some self-respect.”

“I’ve cut my hair in the past. I’ll take care of it.”

“Have you cut it this short before, though?” Dehya said. She laughed at Cyno’s answering grimace. “Come on, you won’t hate it, I promise.”

“... Fine,” Cyno said.

He trudged off, not looking back at either of them.

Dehya only laughed again, but Alhaitham was silent, watching Cyno’s back the entire return journey to Aaru Village.

-

Cyno never struck Alhaitham as someone who fussed about his appearance.

Although, there wasn’t much Alhaitham really knew about him to begin with, not from personal experience, anyway. He’d given Cyno’s file in the Akasha a cursory read, which really only painted broad strokes: Cyno was punctual, consistent, disciplined. Here was where he’d been and what he’d done, here was where he’d probably go next.

They’d had some time to get to know each other more intimately, during this limbo period of gathering information and putting together a plan. The proximity wasn’t really by choice; Aaru Village was not large, and their accommodations even less so. It was inevitable that they would see more of each other.

So Alhaitham learned new things. This was how Cyno took his tea. This was the smell of the oil Cyno used to polish his staff. This was what Cyno’s anger sounded like, his surprise, his honesty.

And no, Cyno did not seem to covet vanity. That wasn’t exactly surprising, but Cyno’s reluctance to have his hair seen to by Dehya made it all the more obvious.

Didn’t stop her from wrangling him into the washroom with a pair of scissors, though. They’d been at it for a while now.

“His hair burned off?” Lumine said with raised eyebrows. She sat across from Alhaitham at the dining table in the village chief’s home, which had become something of a headquarters for their little group.

“Not all of it,” Alhaitham said, poking at the array of sliced fruit Candace had prepared for them. “Enough for Dehya to think she can salvage it, I suppose.”

Lumine sighed wistfully. “Cyno has such pretty hair, too. That’s a shame.”

“Of course you only say so when he’s not around.”

“I don’t want to embarrass him!” Lumine said. “But it’s true. You think so too, right?”

Alhaitham barely managed not to choke on a piece of fruit. He swallowed it down, then said, “His hair’s gone, anyway.”

“That’s not a no,” Lumine pointed out. This traveler was far too shrewd for her own good. Not that there was anything for her to be shrewd about—Alhaitham had no opinion whatsoever about Cyno’s hair.

Finally, the washroom door opened. Alhaitham straightened up in his seat.

Out came Dehya.

“Oh, Lumine!” she said. “You’re back. Got any news for us?”

Lumine smiled. “Yes! Actually, I dropped by Dunyarzad’s home when I was near Sumeru City. She gave me a message to pass on to you.”

Dehya perked up. “Really? Ooh, let’s talk outside.”

Lumine rose from her seat to follow Dehya out the door. Before they left, Dehya said over her shoulder to Alhaitham, “If you’re worried about your general, don’t worry, I left his head intact.”

Alhaitham frowned. “He’s not—”

Dehya grinned and shut the door behind her.

Which left Alhaitham alone. Great.

Alhaitham wasn’t sure what to glean from Dehya’s tone, but the glint in her eyes and the sharpness of her grin didn’t spell anything good. She wouldn’t actually mutilate Cyno in there, would she? No, Dehya liked her fights fair and equal, out in the open, not underhanded like some malicious barber.

“She’s gone already?” said a voice behind Alhaitham, halting his thoughts. He turned.

Cyno.

Standing before him, head tilted in a questioning manner. His hair was trimmed more neatly than before, falling in soft strands around his face and neck. It was looser, lighter without the weight of its previous length, and its shape brought attention to the striking features of Cyno’s face. He had a surprisingly delicate jawline.

Alhaitham’s voice died in his throat.

Cyno frowned slightly. “You okay there, Scribe?”

A moment, then Alhaitham cleared his throat.

“Yes,” he said. He remembered Cyno’s earlier question. “Dehya left to talk with Lumine.”

Cyno hummed and reached up to play with his bangs. “I was going to ask her to trim this a bit. It’s still long.”

“You didn’t seem to have a problem with your hair falling in your face before.”

Cyno huffed. “Well I figured if she had the scissors anyway…”

Quiet. Alhaitham wasn’t quite sure what to say. He was rather preoccupied with taking in the slope of Cyno’s exposed shoulders.

Cyno said, “Why are you doing that?”

“What?”

Cyno’s brows turned downward into a glare. “Staring.”

It was then Alhaitham noticed the tinge of color to Cyno’s cheeks, the slight pout of his mouth. It was the first time Alhaitham could recall ever seeing the General Mahamatra flustered.

Cyno said, “I know I must look odd. Just… ignore me, if you must.”

He crossed his arms over his chest. Flustered was not an unappealing look on him, but Alhaitham figured he ought to be reassuring. It wouldn’t bode well for their teamwork if they couldn’t even look at each other.

So Alhaitham said, “It’s not odd. You look good.”

Cyno’s face turned bright red. Uh oh. Perhaps Alhaitham had miscalculated.

“E-Enough,” Cyno said. “Lumine is here, you said? Let’s hear what news she’s brought.”

He stalked towards the door. Alhaitham rose from his seat to follow him. Cyno was blushing so hard the flush reached the nape of his neck, and Alhaitham was struck with the sudden impulse to reach a hand out and brush away the newly shorn hair there, that he might feel how warm Cyno’s skin was with his own fingertips.

But then Cyno opened the door, and the daylight spilled in. An impulse for another time, perhaps. The sounds of the village drifted towards them on the warm breeze.

Before they stepped out into the rest of the world, Cyno said, so quietly Alhaitham nearly missed it, “You really think so?”

Alhaitham looked at him. Cyno’s gaze was steadfastly elsewhere, watching the swirls of some distant sandstorm. His face was still red.

Alhaitham bit the inside of his cheek, then said, “Don’t worry. You haven’t lost your title of Sumeru’s most eligible bachelor yet.”

“I’m not—” Cyno sputtered, then sighed. “You’re ridiculous.”

“You asked,” Alhaitham said, while they made their way out of the village chief’s home and down the steps.

“Something I’m coming to realize I should avoid in the future.”

Cyno’s voice didn’t seem to have its usual venom or conviction. Another thing for Alhaitham to mentally file away into a growing folder labeled ‘Cyno.’

But there were more important things ahead. Dehya and Lumine spotted them as they approached, and Lumine gasped at the sight of Cyno’s hair. And then the conversation turned to the sages, to the battle that may come, and the future yet to be wrought.

Thoughts of Cyno would have to wait until later.