#edit: the read more fucked this post up Severely so i took it off

[so-very-small]

What is YOUR gt thought of the day?

My super specific flavor of G/t today is being the body double for a noble/royal figure, in a fantasy setting. Whether by coercion or dedication you pose as that figure for all political and social events due to your uncanny resemblance, so that if any assassination attempts are made the actual royal will be safe and far away. It’s your job, it’s your duty, and you always prepared for the possibility of getting harmed in this line of work.

You did not prepare for being kidnapped by the giant political rival of a kingdom far off. It happens suddenly, one second you’re at a ball, the next the roof is being ripped off and you’re snatched up in a gloved hand. The giant takes you back to their palace, locks you in a little birdcage above their desk. They’re charming, if not smug, quite happy to goad you with their plans and the futility of your situation. Ransom, of course, but other political ulterior motives possible.

You have to deal with the overwhelming and incomprehensible presence of a giant. Fingers twice your height, grabbing you without hesitation. A looming presence always over your shoulder. And, on top of that, you have to come to terms with the fact no rescue is coming. You’re a body double, the noble’s safe, and they wouldn’t risk a rescue mission for you. No hope, no dream of escape. So you lie your ass off.

You’re good enough at your job to not break the role of royal, and you take the rest in stride. This giant is terrifying, taking every opportunity to make you feel even smaller, and like the superb actor you are you manage to hold your own. Eventually anxiety ridden nights and verbal spats graduate to decent conversation, and soon enough you’re sitting in their hand while you talk rather than the birdcage.

The two of you get closer, incomprehensibly. You don’t notice the terror of their size, but rather how their hair falls into their eyes as they laugh. More time is spent in their pocket than not, and the birdcage is a distant memory.

And deep down, despite sleeping on their pillow every night and despite forgetting to act half the time, you’re still terrified. Because word takes a long time to travel across giant nations, but it will arrive. Word that the noble is safe and sound, and the body double is disposable, and that will be it.

Whatever thread of connection you have between your giant captor and yourself might utterly snap once they find out all the lies. What was the point of ever even thinking of love? They kidnapped you, and you lied to them about your entire identity. It was never sustainable, long-term. You lay on their pillow and watch them sleep, and wait for the last few grains of sand to fall down the hourglass. It can’t last forever.

so yeah that’s what my g/t vibe is tonight

[michellemisfit]

✨Weekly Tag Wednesday ✨

Thanks for creating the game and for the tag @jrooc thanks for the tag @vintagelacerosette

Today we’re talking fandom. Come play!

Name and A03 handle: Michelle, michellemisfit

Current Location: Living room, surrounded by feathers, as I’m currently fletching some arrows

Favourite picrew: This one is pretty fucking spot on. Or at least it was at the time. Hair is very different now. But then, hair is always different… lol

Also this one is spiritually VERY me

What's one thing you want in a picrew? Ability to add coloured streaks! And a wide selection of scars, or alternatively the ability to move them around the screen. Either is fine. But mostly the hair thing. My hair is generally 4 different colours. Don’t try and limit me to one!!

Favourite thing you’ve created (or seen created) for the fandom? Erm… 3 way tie between Mexico Gallacrafts, Fimo Gallavich, and Cookie Gallavich? Maybe? Argh. Turns out, looking back at my art tag… I’ve created some pretty cool stuff. Huh. Yay me.

Why is it your favourite? I don’t really do photography, and I’m really proud of the idea behind and the execution of that photo. And while I LOVE drawing more than anything, I don’t think I’m exceptional or anything. But I’m damn creative when it comes to silly 3D craft projects, so both Fimo Gallavich and Cookie Gallavich make me happy and feel like something not just anyone could do… I dunno.

Did it come easily or was it hard to create? It was LONG to create. Both cookie and Fimo Gallavich took several days in total. And I think that’s the other thing I like about myself. I am willing to put in the work, and it usually pays off.

Last ao3 fic you commented on? Hah! You’ll be able to corroborate this, I’m not just sucking up!! LOL I’m currently reading Camp is a Battlefield by @blue-disco-lights, @jrooc, and @mybrainismelted, with artwork by @creepkinginc, so that’s the last one I commented on :)

Biggest WIP heartache you’ve ever experienced? I mean… every single WIP I have ever started reading, only to realise that maybe there won’t be any more of it… 😱 Every. Single. One. They’re all special, and they all hurt in their own special ways. And I will remain subscribed to all of them FOREVER, because you never know!!

Also? Comment on WIPs. Tell authors how much joy the story brought you, how much space it’s occupying in your brain, how much you would love to see it continue but how happy you are to have read as much of the story as there is because it’s changed your brain chemistry… do NOT comment saying ‘next chapter when?’, cause that makes you a dick bag.

Favourite trope or head cannon you like included in a fanfic? I’m a sucker for fake dating, only one bed, and a soulmate AU 🤷🏽‍♂️

Least favourite? …not a huge fan of kid fic, but hey, all it takes is a great author to make it work.

Secret or surprising kink or trope? Again, do not kink shame, because you’re only ever one good fanfic away from discovering something about yourself you did NOT see coming…

Describe how you feel after you’ve created something new? Exhausted and antsy. Is it good enough? Are people gonna like it? Should I even bother anyone with this? Why don’t I just go and hide under a rock forever?? I felt okay about this when I finished it, why is it suddenly the worst thing to have ever been created??? …I wish there was a sense of calm and accomplishment. There is not. Brains suck!

Top hype man you have that always helps you get across the finish line: @deedala - I so appreciate how we’re on a similar wave length when it comes to art as well as ‘everybody wants to hunt me for sport’ vibes. I know I can always count on you for kind but honest words, and that’s so important!!

It's been a bad day, you turn to the fandom and you _____? Read comfort fic. Probably Like Real People Do or None the Wiser.

Edit: Also? Go and read comments and tags on old art posts. That’s a sure fire way to cheer me up!

This was fun, and made the 15 minute wait between fletching each feather pass much faster. Thanks!!

If you are currently making your own arrows and need something to occupy your wait time with… how about completing a tag game? lol

@heymrspatel @loftec @creepkinginc @deedala @too-schoolforcool @darlingian @iandarling @iansw0rld @ian-galagher @mybrainismelted @palepinkgoat @crossmydna @mikhailoisbaby @sickness-health-all-that-shit @rereadanon @rutherinahobbit @energievie @junemermaid @francesrose3 @deathclassic @faejilly @rutherinahobbit @gallawitchxx @look-i-love-u @jessij1997 @callivich @celestialmickey @wehangout @doshiart @lynne-monstr @the-rat-wins @blue-disco-lights @suzy-queued @sleepyfacetoughguy @spookygingerr @burninface @gallapiech

[rjalker]

Edit: Can't believe the irony of me having to say this, but I do apparently have to say this: Not wanting boobs and not wanting to be seen as feminine does not mean you are, or want to be seen as masculine. I'm not transmasculine just because I don't want boobs and don't want to be seen as feminine.

You cannot read a post where the point is having boobs does not equal being feminine and go oh! right. Because not wanting boobs equals being masculine! No!! I'm not transmasculine! I'm not trying to look masculine! Kill the gender binary that has a stranglehold on your views of gender!

Stop shoving nonbinary people into a new set of binary boxes!

___

the idea that having boobs gets you automatically and inherently classified as being "female presenting" and "feminine presenting" in so-called progressive circles makes me want to maul people.

I've said this before and I'll just keep repeating it forever: I'm disabled. I can't wear a binder. If I tried I'd dislocate several ribs and that'd be the least of my worries. Like. you know why ribs not being where they're supposed to be is dangerous? Yeah. Yeah. Use your imagination. That's a real thing I have to worry about.

I can't even wear a sports bra that's several sizes """too large""" comfortably.

And yeah, I can use trans tape, but that takes concerted time and effort to put on and take off, and every time you put it on you get different results, and you might just mess it up entirely and waste it, and it can get itchy if you're sweating with it on (and it's 90 degrees almost all the time it's not actively winter here, so that's...literally unavoidable. Even sitting in the living room. Because the electric company charges an arm and a leg for AC during the summer AND won't even give you enough to actually cool your shitty tiny apartment even with all the doors shut and curtains drawn!!!!!), and it's expensive to buy more of.

And especially because this declaration of "feminine presenting" or "female presenting" that gets shoved onto you is not only misgendering you, but placing the blame on you for being misgendered for not looking not-female enough. It's no longer the speaker making incorrect assumptions, they're now literally declaring that this is a concious decision you make. You are choosing to "present" yourself this way...by having a body that you have no control over.

And even when it comes to clothes, the idea that the clothes you wear is another purposeful, conscious Presentation™ of your gender...

Even if we ignore for a moment the fact that being disabled and poor severely limits the clothes you can wear and even just have access to, what about people who literally don't get to choose what their clothes are? Kids whose parents buy their clothes for them, people whose carers choose their outfits for them?

My gender is not "sun-bleached tank top and shorts with a reflective sun hat". That's just what I wear so I don't die of heat stroke every time I set foot outside, and so that my joints are not being painfully constricted every time I move. I literally can't take my hat off outside during the day without developing a headache (or are they fucking migraines? fuck if I know!) within minutes from the sun trying to murder me from my light sensitivity. And it took me years to even realize that it was light sensitivity causing this. I remember in middle school the substitute gym teacher asked if I was a vampire because I moved to the closest shady spot every time we moved to a new area.

And like. Let's be honest. Even if I could safely wear a binder...They're fucking expensive.

It's just really fucking annoying that so many people equate binding with being trans and so many people who are supposed to be allies are just so comfortable labeling other people, who they haven't asked, as "feminine presenting" just because of the presence of boobs. Like we have any choice in the matter. Like having visible boobs just means you're asking to be misgendered.

[prodigaldaughteralice]

So, I was tipped off a while ago by a post that’s probably still in my queue (I have a long reblog queue u_u;; ) that a few words were changed in the US edition of Monstrous Regiment. As it’s my favourite Discworld book, and I’d only ever read the US edition, I tracked down a second-hand UK first edition online and had a re-read as soon as it came, with my battered old US edition next to me so I could check when anything pinged me as ‘off’. Here’s what I found, not counting minor UK->US spelling changes like turning “girlie” into “girly”.

(There may be more that I missed, I didn’t have both copies open the whole time, but I’m pretty familiar with this book. As my sister teased me about when I mentioned I’d done this comparison, I did have it in my bed for several years as a teenager so I could reread it whenever my insomnia was hitting particularly hard.)

Spoilers from here on out, of course.

The first two are just kind of pointless? Changing “coprolite” to “coprolith”, which is just a less common word for the exact same thing, and changing “riff-riff-raff” to “riffraff” feels like they forgot Jackrum was playing drunk in that scene. Whatever. These don’t bother me.

There are a few UK->US type changes in the next one (“wooly vest” to “woolen undershirt”) which similarly feel pointless to me, but what really gets my goat is the last word. “The man’s bare chests,” plural, being changed to “the man’s bare chest”. Because that’s foreshadowing, but it’s not a giveaway, because on a heavier (cis) guy they do hang separate. It’s a nice little touch, and they took it out.

The next one is the one I’d been tipped off to, and it’s the change I’m the most annoyed about. “Turned her chair to the fire/around him the kitchen worked” -> “turned her chair to the fire/around her the kitchen worked.” I’m sure whatever editor changed it didn’t do so with any kind of malice or agenda, they just weren’t paying enough attention and thought they were fixing a continuity mistake, but it’s just such beautiful writing that they removed.

Because they’ve just had this incredible, delicate, vulnerable conversation about the girl Jackrum left behind him, and that that girl was him, and that he has a son out in Scratz and he doesn’t know what to do now that he’s leaving the army. Polly cries. And it’s Polly who suggests that he really can remain Jack Jackrum, he can go back to his son in medals and braid and be his father, and Jack gets to really settle in to the idea that he can be happy that way. Both those pronouns being “her” doesn’t feel wrong, necessarily; I always read it as Polly processing. But the switch between the two sentences is so beautiful. It’s a gentle closing of the conversation, it’s that girl being fully put behind him, and Sergeant Major Jack Jackrum (retired) getting to go on with his life.

The last one is just… odd. Inexplicable, and it’s the hardest to explain as just an editorial accident. They added a word that specifies something that was not previously specified. “One of them was Maladicta, in full uniform” becomes “one of them was Maladicta, in full female uniform.” I was thinking about it on this reread, and Mal is the only member of the squad who wasn’t publically outed at the Keep. Mal wasn’t involved in the actual raid— too busy gibbering and sucking on a sack of coffee beans— and at the trial Mal kind of stood in the back vibrating from caffeine overdose. Even Jackrum said “with vampires, who cares”. Only Polly knows about Maladicta.

And what that means is that Mal is the only member of the squad who could reasonably remain presenting as male in the army. Polly encourages a couple of young recruits in the very end that it’s their choice to enlist as men or as women, with Mal right beside her, and I think the original ambiguity there is really lovely— it doesn’t matter if Mal has an ‘a’ on the end at the moment, because Mal is there to help Polly fuck shit up, and that’s what matters. By adding the specificity, they just… took away a really nice bit of subtext, a really nice effect.

So yeah, I’m ticked off as a queer person about the (minor) subversion of the book’s general gender fuckery, but I’m almost more ticked off as a writer. Pratchett was so talented, and we talk about it a lot on a large scale of themes and motifs and characters, but he was also just so fantastic on a sentence to sentence level. This is craft! This is really beautiful, delicate writing, elegantly put together and perfected, and some US editors just. Took out some of it. And it’s still an incredible book! As I mentioned, I had it in my bed for years as a teenager so I could reread it over and over, it means a ton to me, it’s my favourite of his work and I love his work! But it hurts to see these little places where it was originally even better.

[sourcreammachine]

a little something fun about the transition from reddit to tumblr

i worldbuild. that’s me hobby. my notes app is all a load of random bullshit. i think of a world idea and then i do notes on it. i think of a fiction idea and i do notes on it. i think of any fun thing and i write nonsense notes on it

on reddit, whenever you shared that shit, it had to be presentable. you needed to be good at worldbuilding AND adept at photoshop. if it looks ugly, gtfo amateur. so i never bothered sharing, i mean, i shared a few things but at my low-medium skill level with graphic design n shit it always took me a lot of effort to do it up, and i never could be bothered to give the amount of effort it took me

so i kept it all to myself and my notes app turned into an unreadable apocrypha that made sense only to me. who gives a shit. nobody’s gonna read it

then spez spezzed everywhere and r/196 became #196. i can share anything i want here! the community is far more personal and personable, and text posts are okay here. it’s not that the bar is lower, but that the bar is more accessible. you don’t need to create a massive .psd every time you want to share some creativity, just share it! and i do, i write stuff for tumbr and put it out there and love doing it, and i’ll fucking do it again

but, my biggest projects, my most proud worlds, were all created when i was closed off, for me only. i’d love to share them to tumbr. but they’re fucking unreadable. even though it’s far more accessible i’d have to edit it into a readable, presentable format and guide people through it better, which it very much was not built to do. it’s like ancient manuscripts. you’d need a rosetta stone. it is not for human consumption. the FSA classes it as toxic waste

so yeah. i have some good shit waiting for you. maybe one day you’ll get to see it when i actually edit it and type it up, but don’t count on anything, because, ykno, severe chronic depressive

[bokunoheros]

⋆˚࿔ iida tenya saving you, hcs 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

🪲 authors note:// “hcs,” more like vague story post smh. but, for some context, this will be taken place in S1 during the USJ attack. in a follow up part, this will feature pro-hero!tenya for a sequel! fyi— reader has a intimidation quirk that makes them more of a support rather than a main dps; which is what gets them caught in this situation in the first place— [yes, this is based off my oc, and yes this a/n is fucking long. suck me off. ]

topics discussed & warnings:// descriptions of physical violence, blood, bruises, wounds, etc., mentions of death but no one actually dies, don’t worry baby, no death here, semi-angst, and can’t forget the comfort, you both kind of have feelings for each other but it doesn’t come to anything, my bad, drabble.

word count:// 498-ish

ᯓ heed the warnings laid before you, your media consumption is your responsibility! ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ

every WORD under this cut is PG-13 RATED— check warnings before reading.

𝜗𝜚 edited and proof read by the lovely calius .ᐟ xoxo

✎ᝰ Maybe it was the look in your eyes, maybe it was the blood dripping from your forehead— maybe it was his own feelings that stared back at you. His engines fired— the heels of his costume kicking up dirt as he unconsciously hauled ass towards you. He didn’t even know what he was doing, he didn’t decide to act, no. He just did.

The villain above you, actively moving to launch a vehicle in your general direction, seemed to slow down. Time almost stopped, Tenya’s heartbeat rang in his ears, adrenaline pumping through his veins, asphalt cracking underneath his weight as he sprinted towards you.

He wasted no time, not a fraction of a second even if it was an unconscious decision to launch himself into the air, kicking off the ground with a metallic crunch. Lifting his leg, his engines forced him forward until the bottom of his foot made contact with the villain's temple, echoing a gruesome crunch through the street. You covered your head with your arms, forcing yourself closer to the ground as the car plummeted into a nearby building rather than your body.

The villain staggered, his body wobbling before crashing into the asphalt, launching dust several acres into the air. Tenya landed on the street with a huff, looking back at the unconscious villain’s form.

What the fuck? He could’ve died, hell, you could’ve died— but he still ran head first for you.

He glanced back at you, his engines stuttering again as he took off to grab you. He picked you up bridal style, only throwing you over his shoulder shortly after.

“I’ve got you,” he said, taking a breath as he held the back of your thighs, continuing to run.

He carried you until the prescience of villains were no more, screeching to a halt in an alleyway.

“We’re safe, don’t worry.” He said with a stifled groan as he sat you down, leaning you against the brick wall behind you. Your hands brushed as he placed you down, staring into your eyes.

“Thanks,” you muttered back, glancing away. You bring your hand to your forehead, tapping the cut on your skin with a hiss. Tenya winces just watching you do so alone, taking your wrist before pulling your hand away.

“It’s not so bad, yeah?” He gave you a small, kind smile, shifting in his feet while he crouched. “I’ll get you out of here, okay?”

“Thanks for saving my ass,” You swear you can see him blushing. “Suppose I owe you one?”

THANK YOU FOR READING! if you wish to see more of me, ₊⊹

my carrd // kofi (tip me!)

[ingydar-phan]

Happy birthday Dan. I found you at a very, very low point in my life. It’s funny, because that point was only a few months ago. March 3rd. March 3rd. Jesus Christ. I was dealing with severe bullying, depression, hopelessness, isolation, gender dysphoria (i have been out/socially transitioned for like 5 years), and most of all, loneliness. I had a circle of about 3 friends who i talked to regularly, but only 1 i even saw in person more than once per year. Then, two of those 3 people began having relationship issues and were on the verge of breaking up. I felt like i was a bother, a burden to their already existing issues. Every single day I’d walk into school, put my headphones on, and not talk to a single person. I’d read, sleep, listen to music, dissociate, and sleep some more throughout the day just to distract myself from everything. From class, from parents, from the outside, everything. I fully and truly believed everyone besides those 3 people hated me. They found me disgusting, annoying, taking up space, and simply didn’t want me there. I think that is true to an extent, but i don’t like how i was just letting that be how it is. My dad was genuinely hopeless, he told me to just ride it out and if i could try to be just a little bit normal-er, maybe i wouldn’t be ignored by every person every day. That didn’t work. Instead, i decided to do some self work. Or rather, my dad stopped intruding on my free time which allowed me to still be awake and do things i wanted to do in peace. I thought, “Dan and Phil….those two emo guys with the cat whiskers….i have such a vague memory of a friend mentioning them or scrolling across a post of them, who even are they?”. I typed into the YouTube search bar “Dan and Phil”. A gaming channel? Are these people streamers? Oh god (i did not know you were one of us 🏳️‍🌈….or british…..). I watched one video. Now, ACCORDING TO YOUTUBE HISTORY, i somehow watched What Dan And Phil Text Each Other 4 as my first video. Not even the gaming channel, i don’t know how this happened maybe YouTube is lying to me. Whatever. Ok so which ones Dan and which ones Phil? Why do they look SO different? They’re British? I started watching Dan and Phil edits on TikTok. Ok, i know who you are, i get the vibes. Oh, coming out timeline? Gaming channel timeline and hiatus? Reacting to PINOF? On March 13, i watched Basically I’m Gay and Coming Out To You. It took me an entire month from then to watch Why I Quit YouTube. By late April, i was in it. I was watching Dan or Phil every day. Before, during, and/or after school. Since then, I’ve purchased YWGTTN (limited edition signed updated paperback). It was 38 fucking dollars in USD but it was worth it. I also now own TATINOF and DAPGO, one of which is signed by Phil, i bought second hand. So yes, now this is my new thing. But you know what else? I was getting happier. I was going to more concerts. I was doing my schoolwork, or at least trying to. I was reading!!!! I’ve since finished The Secret History. I made a friend; reconnected with an old childhood friend and started eating lunch together and hanging out and having shared trauma dump sessions, and we are so so close now. My two friends broke up, but it’s ok. I’m best friends with one of them and he’s so much better off, and the other and i are still casual friends!! I value them both for the multiple years I’ve known them. I’ve taken family vacations and done religious holidays with genuine care while getting to reconnect with my family. I’ve very passionately finished acting in a musical that I’ve put so much care into for about 5 months. I’m graduating tomorrow!!! And me and my close friend will be going to a concert tomorrow night afterwards, and I’m going to have a great summer where i see my close friend who i haven’t seen IRL since March of 2023. I’m getting closer with my dad and seeing a new therapist. I am having medical problems as of right now, but i would 100% be lying in bed crying and skipping graduation had i not found a reason to enjoy my days.

Did i just take one sentence referencing Dan to write a whole autobiography on tumblr? Yes, but also no. Dan and Phil are real people. They really do rescue pigeons named Steve and getting 10 sauces for their pizza and say hi across the city with binoculars. But they also genuinely have an impact on people, and they see that, and they LIKE to see that. I don’t think Dan will see this post. But I’m making it anyway. For me.

I love Dan so much. I cried twice while watching We’re All Doomed in my kitchen. I have actively watched Dan and Phil videos while crying at school. Once, in my bedroom, i was having a panic attack. I had an overwhelming rush of thoughts around 10 or 11 at night about how worthless i am and how terrible everything was going. I opened my tiktok, and there was THE edit that saved me. It was a video of fetus Dan on YouNow talking about his dream home. And then it was cutting back and forth to the Phouse. Then, Dans hopeful monologue in Basically I’m Gay. Finally, Dans hopeful monologue in We’re All Doomed. All of this in a softly shaky screen with sad music behind it. I cried a lot. This aspect of my life means so much to me. I think about the Halloween 2023 baking video at least 5 times a day (and sister Daniel’s….uhm….legs…). I am still so mad i did not buy the satanic Craft shirts. I just rewatched Dans interview last year with Anthony Padilla just because of how goddamn much I’m obsessed with that angle of Dan with his cute chin and cheeks and fucking dimple. I think about Dans bluntness in his defined-self and truly feel inspired to be like him. I look at his change over the years, his comfortability in his body, seeing that his face and neck are shaped like my face and neck, and he’s fucking beautiful. I don’t think I’d feel comfortable in my weight if not for Dan Howell, and i mean that so insanely sincerely. I read Dans book whenever I’m feeling hopeless and need a soft sexy British man to tell me the scientific reasoning behind why i feel this way and to assure me he’s felt worse. I’m so serious when i say i cannot imagine a day of my life without Dan and Phil. I truly don’t understand how i lived before or how I’d expect to live without it. “Live”, in the sense of find a way of life, not as in “stay alive.” I can’t imagine a day without those big brown boba eyes and that cute dimple and mainly that calming voice that reminds me someone else has felt this way. That reminds me love is possible. That reminds me i have so much ahead of me, so much life and love and joy.

Phil’s birthday stream may be my favorite piece of Dan and Phil media, or at least one of them. I find it so comforting and wholesome and beautiful and hilarious. I have such high hopes for Dans birthday stream. Until then, I’ll be working on my long-awaited (still very very unfinished) 2009!Dan and Phil art piece within my art initiative (pinned on my profile) (just for funsies, no money or anything involved). I’m going to sit there at 3pm (my time) and watch with a huge smile on my face to see my amazing dads spend the time of their lives being sexy and old and happy and disgustingly homosexual while i just embrace all you’ve done for me.

Happy birthday Dan

@danielhowell

[girlfriendsofthegalaxy]

tuesday again 5/7/2024

i have Got to read a book i enjoy this week or my brain will turn into something the consistency of dried tomato paste on a kitchen counter

also i have lost track of the timing and rhythm of the seasons so for the first time in a very long time there is no may starred war tuesdaypost

listening

Chapstick by COIN off my weekly recommended spotify playlist. i don’t think this song is particularly interesting or well-executed as a whole, but the lyrics

She’s a friend of mine, and an alibi

And the getaway car in overdrive, like

Hey sharpshooter, I like the way you’re moving

i think the use case for this song is a telecom company trying to get you to switch by promising some portable Bluetooth speakers for your summer parties and this is playing diagetically as we slip in and out of various summer parties, following one TV-hot woman in a sundress

-

reading

i am once again not sleeping well and have shoved a lot of mediocre books into my gaping maw. i have read a good fuckin chuck of the jason todd outlaws runs. i like jason todd/the red hood bc i feel a certain kinship with someone trained for an incredibly specific thing who are then thrown away the second they stop conforming. darth maul also but that’s a different post.

i have several bones to pick with writer scott lobdell. i know this was the early teens but can we chill with the misogyny for a singular page. why themes of addiction only when it is needed to fill a narrative lull? and why are you continually going to put jason in interesting situations where he might confront his trauma or grow despite his trauma and then. not have him confront his trauma or grow at all because of it??? i like snatches of the early issues of the run, when the outlaws are figuring out how to be a polycule team on the most beautiful deserted island and crashed spaceship you’ve ever seen. i liked the art in most issues and these had just enough fun flashes of character (about every other issue) to keep me reading. but im annoyed by it.

i finally finished Wilkie Collins’ The Moonstone, the first physical paper book i have finished in a long time. the flaw of being the first in the english detective fiction genre is that everyone who comes after has a lot of time to perfect it. i felt the actual perpetrator was a little beyond belief and the ending was fumbled. however it was very good at sustaining my interest for like 400 pages. not my picture bc i cannot be bothered to find my copy and bother a cat, but this is the penguin edition i own. i don’t actually know if i will keep it on my shelves but maybe it’s more of a trophy of me getting back into reading physical books?

Alexis Hall’s Mortal Follies also annoyed me. i do not think this author’s strong suit is in longer books. i have read previous books in two hours and change and while i found the ending here satisfying from a fairytale perspective, i did not enjoy the path we took to get there. i thought we were ending and wrapping things up at least three times, and the number of Things that happen in order to carry us on to the next Thing does not feel gleefully madcap but sort of frantically shambling. a very classic three-days time limit is introduced in the middle, it is met, and then we continue on for several months. also the author introduces the concept of shipping your friends with an equally made-up word as shipping through one of the more tiresome characters in the novel and this…cracking? chip? in the fourth wall? fucking annoyed me. it felt very out of tone with the rest of the book. surely there was a better way for this character to express that she wanted the two leads to be together

-

watching

Hammerhead (1968, dir. Miller). this is leaving tubi soon and sometimes the heart needs a silly little James Bond ripoff. had high hopes for this one bc it was rated R and the baddie was obsessed with collecting vintage erotica. i don’t really know why this is rated R. the erotica we see is almost all prints of Fine Art Nudes. there’s a lot of cleavage and undergarments and bikinis but not like. full frontal at any point. no man has their chest out except for an enterprising motorcyclist near the end.

anyway this is a deeply unserious film, as you may surmise. it’s not much fun, especially when it’s not very good at getting everyone to the next scene. Vince Edwards is kind of a cold fish, i do not know why every woman is throwing herself at him. Judy Geeson makes every scene she’s in better (there’s a very funny scene in a post office where they play both keepaway and the thimble game with an important package) but she cannot hold the whole dragging movie up by herself. god they made leading ladies fucking tiny back then. very throwable

-

playing

not fallow but i don’t have anything interesting to say about genshin this week. a friend started playing fnv after several months of subtle hints, i was only able to join his streams after twenty hours in and promptly let him know the inventory is sortable if you click at the top. how had he been going through his whole fucking inventory for twenty hours like that. a man singularly obsessed with both inventory management and min-maxing caps. he had like 8k caps by the time he got to Novac, taking the normal route. people sure can play games in different ways huh

-

making

put some dijon mustard and some broccoli in some macaroni and cheese. that's about it

[eriexplosion]

I never let myself really believe they'd bring Tech back (because Occam's razor, or whatever). And I'm so used to weird/bad writing choices from other works that I'm mostly able to shrug my shoulders and go "aw rats, disappointment again :\" about TBB's ending.

... But I still feel kinda hollowed-out, post-finale. I'm not autistic (I think), but my sibling is, so it meant something to my old withered heart that a Star Wars show about family would have a confirmedly-ND character among their cast (though, somewhat tangentially, I agree with your post about all of the Bad Batch being arguably ND-coded). I was delighted that he was well-written, and that he'd eclipsed the stock "smart guy" trope he'd started out as in TCW.

And, I dunno. I feel like a sucker, having hoped for a brief moment that the writers wouldn't throw all that away. And for what? People on reddit were saying for months on end that "his sacrifice is meaningful and shouldn't be wasted", but I can't agree. I think it would've been more meaningful had he lived.

I feel disappointed with the trajectory the back half of S3 took, and I don't think that's unreasonable. Even beyond the disappointment of "dang, they really did that?", S3 after the first handful of eps (imo) felt kind of... rushed? Underexplored? Like there should've been a season 4 (for pacing/development's sake) and various changes to the plot, but there weren't.

Told myself several years ago that I'd reserve judgment for the writing until the series was over and done with. And now that it's all just wrapped up, I suppose I'm stewing with my thoughts, a little. The character arcs all feel like they fell short of their potential payoff, to me -- and maybe I'll change my mind in a few months, but right now? Eh.

Crosshair's got PTSD/trauma that makes his hand shake? Cut off the hand. Omega's got potential force sensitivity/a decision to make concerning what to do going forward? Who cares about that. Tech's getting a decent (and suspicious, in hindsight) amount of character development? Better kill him off so the audience really feels the sting. Cid, Phee, CX-2, Echo, Scorch? Who cares about them; they can show up when their skills are needed and fuck off without halfway-decent closure when they aren't. The familial/sibling themes that were open to being explored? Eh; let's focus predominantly on this one father-child bond. Omega doesn't even need to say goodbye to Crosshair and Wrecker, lol. Foreshadowing and setup? What foreshadowing and setup.

... I'm realizing that I'm actually Quite disappointed lmao. In a lackluster "I don't know what I expected" kind of way. Time to read so many fix-its

There's just a lot that was set up that never came to fruition and it's frustrating when the show has been so good up until that point. And the thing is that Tech being CX-2 would have resolved at least some of it! The CX-2 plot obviously but also, Crosshair's guilt and trauma being helped by being able to fix at least one of his mistakes? Omega's guilt over putting her family in danger being relieved because she finally has them all back?

It didn't even need to be fleshed out, I wouldn't have cared. The only thing I wanted this whole show was the family to be together and complete. And not only did we not get Tech back but yeah Echo was basically just not counted as part of that and Phee was ignored in the end.

This season feels like it needed another editing pass to work as a whole, even though I'd liked everything up to the finale it didn't really end up coming together for me. I'd even have accepted Tech being gone if they had put actual mourning in the first half, instead of stringing it along with little mentions and the CX-2 stuff. I'd be frustrated and mad, but at least it would have felt like they respected him as a character.

Really the only good things I have to say is I think Nala Se blowing up the databanks was a fantastic end to her character that didn't really redeem everything she's done but did bring her to an interesting stopping point. And I am glad everyone else made it out alive. I'm glad that Crosshair especially did after everything he's been through, he's still my boy after all this time even if the Tech stuff has overshadowed a lot of his growth in my head.

[flandrepudding]

doll collection post

Hi guyz!! so somebody asked me to post my doll collection a while back and I put it off because i'm trying to rearrange my setup but its taking much longer than expected due to irl stuff.

But I dont wanna wait anymore! Feel free to just scroll through the pictures, you don't have to read the commentary if you don't want to. In fact you don't have to scroll through any of this at all. I wrote a lot because I am severely neurodivergent. Having a genuine blogging moment rn.

I have been waiting forever for an excuse to post my collection!! I was so happy someone suggested I do so.

I don't have a lot of room for everybody! Everyone is scattered around my room, but I try my best to display them nicely...

My G1 collection is moderately sized, these dolls are expensive and difficult to find. There are so many more I want, like Dead Tired Lagoona or Sweet 1600 Draculaura to go with my Sweet 1600 Clawdeen...sigh. But it just keeps getting harder! I am actually content with stopping my G1 collecting hunt for now and instead focusing on G3... Many of these dolls are from my dear friends, especially Leo and Raven (hi guyz!). Without my friends, I would only have three of these dolls... I am so lucky to be so loved!!!

I don't have many bratz that are in good enough shape to be on display. I really grew up on bratz rather than monster high... but again...these dolls get expensive! Roxxi was always a favorite of mine and a crush! Growing up, I was the type of kid who almost exclusively wanted one brat though. Yasmin. Not Cloe, Jade, or Sasha. I was devoted to collecting Yasmin because she looked similar to me. In retrospect, I really wish I had gotten more of the other girls...I do have some...though their numbers pale in comparison to the Yasmin army.

The ball-jointed doll is my most expensive doll and my largest doll (she is fucking ginormous). Even when buying her at half the original price (great deal from a great friend) she was hardly affordable.

I bought her because I plan on customizing her to be Flandre Scarlet, my ultimate comfort character! I've always dreamed of having a doll of Flan. SO why not make one myself? I've had her for months but am still too scared to cut that beautiful hair off...I'm no good at cutting wigs/hair in general. I did install her red eyes myself which I've never done before as this is my first and probably last bjd! She is gorgeous but I would consider these dolls luxury items... VERY EXPENSIVE.

(idk why the exposure is so high on these, sorry!! >_<;)

I am so happy to have the coffin bean playset!! I think it was a really good idea to get it. but I am so sad because I have hardly any room for it! So It's sitting on my dresser in front of a giant mirror so please excuse the poor editing I did to obscure the reflection of me and my living space lol...

I gave my Twyla low pigtails, though they aren't very visible, and my Clawdeen braids! I think Clawdeen looks super cute this way tbh I tried curling her hair again and again and again but the curls always fell out (I dont have much experience)...but honestly... I think I like this look even better ^_^. You can see her ears so well this way.

This Clawdeen is basically my holy grail and it was gifted to me by Leo, Leo if you're reading this I hope you know you are basically Jesus.

not to get deep but the OMG doll next to her is special to me because it is one of the last gifts I got from my late Grandpa. He took me to target and when I said I liked the doll, no questions asked, he bought her for me. Didn't give me shit for liking dolls at my big age. He simply got her for me because she made me happy, and he wants me to be happy. Dolls can mean so much. Again, I am so lucky to be so loved!!! >:D

I have this gorgeous Draculaura just chilling next to my jewelry cuz I have nowhere else to put her and honestly she is gorgeous and should stand alone.

Here I have the pride Bratz next to my bed!!! They mean so much to me, as I said earlier I had a crush on Roxxi. To see she's a canon lesbian now is so incredible!! And Nevra, her girlfriend, is beautiful! They are so cute together... they are never leaving that box though. This was actually the first doll/set of dolls where I fully understood why people are content leaving dolls in their boxes. I love to play with my dolls so much... but I could never play with these two!! If anything happened to them I would lose my mind.

Now... you're probably thinking......where the hell is Lagoona?!?! Do you not have one despite loving her this much? Of course I have a Lagoona. I AM GROWING AN ARMY!!!!!!

I really, really love Lagoona...I want to get every Lagoona doll I possibly can. Isn't she so cute! I relate to her character in the cartoon a lot too... her life at home, her difficulties speaking up when she is sad or angry, her sporty personality, etc etc... She has quickly claimed her spot as biggest comfort character #2. I included many pictures because I simply cannot pick one, she is flawless. You might recognize the Lagoona on the left, I drew her in that exact pose recently!!

I have her army on my desk, giving me the strength I need to get through my work... like Homer Simpson with his pictures of baby Maggie at his work. I get endless inspiration and motivation from Lagoona!!!

And here is the Flandre shrine bonus... I adore her!! I also have finally ordered a fumo flan that should arrive in august around my birthday eeek!!!

Anyways that is my collection. It's been many years in the making, though it's almost doubled since monster high G3 released... Mattel truly has me by the balls right now. If you read any of this, thank you. I put a lot of time into making this post, and it was really fun. I feel like a real blogger right now.

I really really enjoy dolls and talking about them. So I will happily do so anytime I get the chance!!! Will probably do an update once I finally install some more shelves and move stuff around <3

[angel-shaw]

First draft of my Magnus Archive Fic!

This is the first “chapter” of my first TMA fic:) I am still working on it and I haven’t edited this at all yet but I really want some input and praise:3

I started this fic off of a dream that my TMA obsessed bf begged me to wright. I haven’t reached the main part that I am super excited about yet so expect more! For those who read this let me know if I should post this as a multi chapter fic and post this rn to Ao3 or if I should wait till I am done with it:)

Summary - Tim and John are trapped in a concrete room inside the Achrives, Nether knows what happened or how to get out so they have no choice but to sit in their together. (Takes place after season 1 and definitely before season 3, might make it so Sasha is fine because I can )

Currently at 8016 words:)

Tw: being trapped, paranoia, etc kinda stuff (lemme know if more needs to be tagged :). )

“Tim,” John said, shaking his counterpart.

“Tim you need to wake up, food is ready and you need to eat it hot.”

Underneath several thick blankets John heard heard tim mumble something along the lines of

‘I’m cold, fuck off.’

John sighed.

“I know your cold Tim but the warm food will help with that, please i don't want to fight you on this every time.”

The blankets shuffled quickly and John flinched back as Tim pulled the blankets down from his, very tired looking, face.

“Then don't! Leave me be! Why do you even care John? It's not like anything can be done about this so why not do what you've always done and either leave me alone or go speculate about whether or not I'm some possessed version of myself who will randomly decide to try and kill you for some obscure reason only you understand in a corner?!”

John stood frozen for a few seconds as Tim glared at him. When Tim started to shiver despite the blankets it snapped John out of his stupor. Instead of responding he instead held a hot bowl of soup out for Tim to take.

“This should help,” John whispered as Tim frowned.

It took a minute but Tim shifted to prop himself against the wall and took the bowl.

John took his own bowl and sat a little ways away from Tim as they both ate in silence.

This was their routine, minus Tims outburst normally. For the last 2 weeks Tim and John have been trapped in this room. It reminded John of the archival room without the shelves and boxes of statements. A stone room with no windows and only one door. John couldn't even remember how he and Tim had gotten there. He couldn't explain why they were stuck in there and even less of a clue where the food and resources came from. It felt like some kind of thing fucking with them. Giving them what they need to survive but not to get out.

At first he and Tim argued a lot, both scared and confused. Johns added paranoia didn't help that ether and seeing as how they were stuck together now 24/7 they had plenty of time to fight. That was until Tim started to get sick, it was so easy for John to notice the change. Tim started to shiver, at times John could even hear his teeth chattering. He stopped moving around the room and just stayed curled up under his blanket. One night John had waited till Tim had fallen asleep and threw his own blanket on top of Tims shivering form. The days following John had asked Tim if he was alright but was met with hostility. And that's how it had been the past week and a half. When Tim stopped eating John took it upon himself to make sure Tim had food to eat. He noticed when he ate Tim stopped shivering for a time so he made sure there was almost always a hot food for Tim to have when he started to violently shiver.

John and Tim rarely talked because it seemed it could only lead to another fight. So the silence the two fell into well eating no longer felt awkward.

When Tim placed his bowl down onto the stone floor he immediately withdrew into the two blankets.

“Do you want more?”

A muffled mumble.

Because John couldn't hear him he decided to move closer. He scooted up to the blanket and leaned down.

“What was that?’’

The entire blanket flinched and before he knew it a flash a pain shot through his nose. John flinched back and cried out, bringing his hands up to his face.

John's eyes were shut tight and he could feel the tears welling up behind his eyelids. He was too preoccupied feeling a hot wet liquid start to run down his hands and wrists to notice Tim and sat up and threw the blankets off of himself.

“Oh holy shit! John, I didn't realize you got so close. What the hell where you doing?! Shit are you ok? Oh holy fuck thats alot of blood. Shit shit SHIT! Here uhh just, just stay here. I'll go and find something, oh fucking hell theres so much blood’” Tims rant could barely be heard by John who was still sitting in shock and pain.

A few seconds later John felt Tims strong hands envelope his own, distantly he could hear Tims voice. It sounded…calmer than usual? No, not calmer… nicer.

“John come on, lemme see.”

John could feel his head shake, there weren't any real thoughts going through his mind really so he didn't know why.

“Hey come on, I kinda know how to fix it….a little…I won't make it worse at least.”

John felt his head shake harder. He really needed to stop doing that. It made his head hurt and him feel dizzy.

“Come on John, please let me help.”

Finally John let Tim pull his hands down, his eyes still shut tight and still in an immense amount of pain.

“Shit…Ok here,” Tim's voice was quiet as he started wiping around the nose, clearing some of the blood before holding it to John's face firmly.

“See that's not too bad right? We got this…no problem.”

Tim took a deep breath, “Ok John can you hear me?”

Again John could distantly feel himself nod, nothing felt real.

“Good, good. Ok so this next bit is gonna sting like a bitch right? It will be over quick though ok? Can I?”

Another nod, what was he even agreeing to?

And then the grasp on the cloth over his nose became much firmer before there was a loud crack and a fresh wave of pain with an overwhelming nausea flowing through him.

“Fuck!”

He could hear a lot clearer now, so much so that he could hear the hiss of Tim sucking air through his teeth.

“See,” Tim meekly tried, “Wasn't too bad ay?”

John finally opened his eyes, he could still feel how wet they were and to his displeasure he could feel that wetness stream down his face. Tim was still sat in front of him holding his nose with a weird look on his face.

It was a look John couldn't quite place, he had never been the best at reading people. Somehow always coming to the seemingly worst concussion possible.

“You ok John?”

Tims voice was quite soft, it was something John had noticed. Whenever Tim spoke to others, others like the random people who visited the archive or the food attendees at the outings he was forced to go on. He would question why talking to Tim made those people feel better, or at least good judging by their smiles. Now that that softness was directed at him he understood why those peoples smiles got bigger. He wanted Tim to keep talking to him like that.

“John?”

John looked up at Tim, still in shock from Tim REBREAKING HIS NOSE.

“Did you just break my nose..?”

Tim shifted uncomfortably, “Ya I'm sorry, I had to set it so it won't heal wrong…”

“That really hurt, like a lot….It still really hurts”

“Here just hold the cloth to it for now and the bleeding should stop soon, plus the pressure might help with the pain. It's what i did when i broke my nose”

John stared at Tim increadisully but talking moved his nose and made it hurt more so he decided to stay quiet.

Until he looked down and saw how much blood there was everywhere.

—----------

Tim watched as he saw John's breathing get faster, his eyes were huge as he looked at his hands and arms. The blood was still wet and dripping down his arms to the stone floor.

“John?”

No response from him, John didn't even look up at him.

“Jonathan, man are you ok?”

Again, no response. Faster breathing, it was starting to freak Tim out. Was John having a panic attack? Sure Tim had seen plenty, hell just working at the Archive meant a lot of people who were giving statements had a lot of them. John though, he was always so…well not really confident but he held himself in a way that made him seem untouchable.

Tim had seen him with his paranoia but it was never like this, he was always looking for a way to fix whatever he was paranoid about, even if he was bluntly wrong and being stupid. This…this was so different. John was panicking, worse than the panic Tim had seen during the Worm incident. Why was a broken nose worse than a worm burrowing itself into his skin?????

“John!”

Nothing.

“John, look at me.”

Tim was still holding the cloth, John had never reached his hands back up to take it himself. He was too busy…working himself into a panic attack???

Tim used that to his advantage, he tilted John's head up until his eyes shot to him.

“It's ok, you're ok. Nothing really happened right? You're all good. The pain will go away soon, you just need to breathe.”

John shook his head and looked back down at his hands.

“Is…is it the blood freaking you out?”

John didn't reply but as Tim contoured to follow his eyes he was pretty sure he was right.

“Shit ok, umm here, John.. John!”

John startled to look back up at Tim, he really did look panicked. Shit….

“Look John, just close your eyes ok? I'll take care of it. Come on, just close them. I'm not going anywhere…it's not like i can really, But I swear i'll take care of it”

John finally squeezed his eyes shut again, his breathing was still way too fast but it seemed like he was trying to calm that down so that was good.

Tim wasn't quite sure what to do after that. Now that he knew what the major problem was he should try to fix it right? But he was still holding on to John's nose so he couldn't go to the sink to get anything to help so what the hell was he going to do?

It was really cold out from his blankets, not as cold as before but still. He might fight John on it but the warm food really did help. John was so confusing, one day he was acting like Tim would snap and go on a random killing spree and now he was…trying to help him? It didn't make any sense.

Then Tim had an idea.

“Hey John, can you stand up?”

John nodded his head slowly.

“Ok good, well I need you to stand, I'll be right here k? You don't have to open your eyes, i'll lead you where we need to go.”

John nodded again. It took another moment for John to try to start standing, he almost fell and grabbed onto tims arms to stabilize himself.

Shit he has a weak ass grip-

“Hay it's alright,” Tim said quietly, “You can hold onto me.”

John's hands somehow ended up on Tims side as he stood, the two of them stood there letting balance be regained before struggling to move around the room.

—-----------

It was hard to stay standing with his legs shaking but he could feel Tims free hand helping to hold him up as they shuffled somewhere.

Where were they going? It couldn't be far of course, the two had stuck in this one room for what felt like so long now. Unless Tim had been lying and he had known a way out this entire time. What if all this was a plan?

No he was being unreasonable, he knew Tim. Tim wouldn't.

Before he could think anymore on it he heard tims muffled voice again.

“Ok I'm gonna lean you again here kk? Just lean here and I'll clean you up.”

John just nodded again.

See? He thought to himself. Tims good, Tim wouldn't lie like that. As prickly as he had been he hadn't done anything wrong and he was stuck here too.

Jonathan had always struggled with paranoia, he always needed someone or something to blame for everything. Even if it was himself that at least gave it a reason to happen, it gave an explanation he could wrap his head around. But when something he didn't understand or explain happened he always tried to reasonably put the blame onto someone. That someone just tends to be who else was with him. Even hard evidence against his accusation did little to rest his mind.

It had gotten worse over the years, working at the institute had started to help. Sure the stuff he knew was real was terrifying and he wished it were not, hense his dismissal of the cases, but they gave explanations. It gave him an odd sense of calm, knowing that. But the second something happened that he couldn't explain, something that just possibly could have been one of his coworkers, he fell deep into a rabbit hole of mistrust and dishonesty. His pariona got so bad, he knew it affected his coworkers in negative ways, because they told him. Tim expressly got fed up with his actions.

In the time Tim and himself had been stuck John had started to try and think his way through his paranoia. That was hard when his tactic was to blame something and the only thing he could think of at first was the one he was trapped with. But eventually he noticed his parinona of Tim go down. It really started when he noticed how sick Tim had gotten. It sprung something in his mouse brain that it just couldn't be Tims fault, Tim was sick and needed help. It started to override his paranoia.

At least of Tim. Everything else though was fair game. The vent? Something was in it. The wall? More worms.

There were multiple nights where John stayed up and checked every coroner of the room for something, anything. But night after night he found nothing.

Now everytime he had some paranoid thought about Tim it seemed so much easier to work through it. It was a nice change, being able to work through it.

And now Tim was running warm water and slowly wiping John's own blood off of him. Honestly John was surprised Tim didn't just leave him sitting there on the floor in his own panic bubble. But distantly, he knew Tim wouldn't do that, couldn't. Tim was so kind, even when they yelled at each other Tims concern for John seemed so obvious. Though the anger and everything, it was still clear Tim was worried about John. Just like he was worried for everyone else.

John could feel the warm cloth down his arm, it was soothing. Tim was still holding his nose, it must have been getting annoying.

So John lifted the arm Tim wasn't currently working on and tried to take the cloth himself. His eyes were still closed but he could swear he heard Tim jump when his hand touched his.

“ i can hold it..,’’ John said quietly. It felt like talking too loudly would break whatever was happening right now. And John didn't want that.

—------------

Tim was in fact shocked when John's hand grabbed his own, he was so focused on trying to get the blood off with only one hand that it caught him off guard.

But he let John hold up the cloth and was finally able to use both hands. John's breathing had evened out a lot, Tim hadn't noticed at first but as he worked he could feel John taking long deep breaths. It was the first time Tim had actually seen John even try to self regulate.

That was one thing about John that pissed Tim off, it always seemed as though he just let his pariona dictate everything. He never even seemed to try and reason anything, just letting the fear take over and start running everything. It was good to know John COULD chill himself out a bit.

Tim continued to wash John’s arm off before rinsing the cloth and continuing. There really was a lot of blood, it was suppressing John hadn't fainted or something. Sure when he stood he was wobbly as all hell but being dizzy was expected.

The two of them stood in silence for a while, Tim at one point lifting John's free hand up to hold the cloth so he could clean the other but it was a comfortable silence.

John's eyes, despite still being closed, looked much more relaxed than just a few minutes prior. Granted the dark circles that came with a broken nose were starting to show, Tim frowned at that even after his nose had healed those bruises would probilly stay there for quite a while. Tim thought about it for a second longer, overall they weren't too much different from John's massive eyebags he had all the time. Given the nights Tim knew he had been staying up just walking around the room muttering to himself.

That was another thing about John Tim noticed, he talked to himself a lot. Not in a creepy way like in movies, ok well sometimes, but mostly it felt like he was just trying to think. Like just saying his thought process out to make sure it sounded right. There was once he had heard one of John's tangests when he thought he alone and John had said something, stopped and said “well that didn't make sense” it was quite funny. Probably would have been funnier if Tim hadn't been so upset with him at the time.

Only when John's arms were clean did Tim break the silence.

“Here John, your arms are clean. Lemme see if the bleeding stopped.”

John still didn't say anything, just wincing as Tim pulled the bloody rag away from his face.

Tim winced, “Ya…no keep that there im gonna get some toilet paper.”

As he walked away Tim heard John mutter something under his breath so he wheeled himself around on his heel. He felt himself getting angry, he was trying to help him and John was still making comments and shit?? God this was why he stopped respecting him, all his damn paranoia and bullshit.

“What.” It wasn't really a question, whatever John’s answer he wasn’t going to like it. So technically it could be considered a trap.

John of course didn’t notice the massive shift in Tims face as his eyes were closed, but he did hear the change in his voice.

“Thank you, I said, this hurts, a surprising amount actually. I don’t think I’d know what to do if you weren’t helping me….so thank you”

For once, for once in the entire damn time Tim had known him, John said something right.

Tim immediately felt stupid for getting mad so quickly. He might not understand what the hell John’s switch up was about but it pissed him off.

“Right.”

Even if he was wrong he was still annoyed, none of this made sense, if anything John suddenly tried to help him or whatever this upset him more. Hell the only reason he was helping him right now was because he panicked once he heard the crack of John’s nose.

—-------------

John held his nose until Tims bigger hands pulled his own away. Quickly John felt the wads of toilet paper touch him as Tim tried to shove them up his still bleeding nose.

As it stood, his nose still hurt like hell evidently. So John flinched hard, abruptly pulling back from Tim. Even more unfortunately, the sink he was leaning most of his weight on was not big. So when he flipped back he had thrown his weight into….well nothing.

All the shit people said about falling in slow motion, was in fact just that, shit. John didn't have any time to process he was even falling before he felt Tims arms wrap around his waist. John by all definition was a small man, he knew that, but when Tims arms were so solidly wrapped completely around his waist he /felt/ small.

“Shit! Fuck I'm sorry are you good? Well obviously not, fucking duh. Shit here, Im just gonna….uhh…I'm gonna get you over on the chair that way you don't rocket yourself on the floor ya?”

Johns face was burning again, strangely not just around his nose, but it must have been from irritating it. He made and tried to help make it at least not a struggle to move him, which was hard considering his legs were not planted on the ground, tangled between Tims.

Somehow Tim was able to move him without ended with both of them on the floor. John's only real thought during the short journey was that Tim didn't radiate heat like most did, he wasn't cold per say but he missed the warmth someone would expect.

“Damn you're warm, you know that?”

“Hmm?”

John was pulled from his thought by Tims comment’ “I think you’re just cold”

Tim sat John down on the wooden chair.

Tim rubbed the back of his neck with his hand, “ nah I think it's you”

John hadn't realized it but he had finally opened his eyes. His own arms weren't covered in blood thanks to Tim. Tims arms however were not so clean. He had been trying to help John stop freaking out and gotten blood, John's blood, all over him.

“Oh shit! Right, you're still bleeding; give me a sec!”

John honestly hadn't noticed his nose still leaking blood down his face until Tim reminded him, he lifted his hand to catch the blood but before his could Tim was back and stopping him.

“Put your damn hand down. I just cleaned your amsnup I don't need you fucking that up already. Ok it looks like I set it ok so it should be good.”

“Ya did hurt a lot by the way”

“Ya I know, I'm sorry. I mean if you would have rather it healed in the wrong place we could have left it but I figured if I just did it then…” Tim trialed off, he had an odd look on his face.

“ No no,that was uh fine. It hurt though. How did you know to do that? I figure it's not something you just picked up from tv….at least I hope not.” John tried to joke, but he really really hoped that Tim didn't just do that just because of a bad tv show.

“Haha ya, I umm, I broke my nose quite a lot as a kid so I learned how to handle it. If I'm being honest I did originally try it because of the show…it was a really bad cop sitcom that I watched all time.”

“You watched sitcoms?” It genuinely caught John off guard, he expected Tim to watch a bunch of horror or something like that.

“There a problem with that?”

“No no of course not, I just… didn't expect it”

—------------------

As they talked Tim noticed that it seemed to draw Johns attention away from his injury. Would he normally talk about stuff like this to him? No of course not, hell if he tried John probably would have had a paranoid delusion about it or something and accuse Tim of being a clone or some shit like that.

But if tim helped keep him calm, and he wasn't going to freak out over it, fine.

He started to clean Johns face as he talked. He tilted John's face back and actually managed to get the paper in his nose without a mass spasm this time.

“Ya, normally it's not my kind of thing but I watched it a lot when I was younger. The….uh..guys I hung out with could tolerate it and it didn't make me cry so it was always on. Heh, I love the show. It's actually pretty funny, not accurate but I get enough action with cops nowadays that I don't need accuracy about ‘em” Tim laughed.

He could see John's smile, Tim distantly thought it would be better without all the blood.

“That's…nice. ,my grandmother wished I would get into a show. It could never keep my attention for long. I was better with books.”

This was weird, this entire thing was weird. John being civil and…nice. The two of them talking casually about things Tim had never told anyone. It wasn't like Tim was telling John everything that was part of it but John now knew more than anyone else and it was so casual. The two of them had been stuck in this place for what, 2 weeks now? And now here the two of them were, talking after Tim had broken his nose.

“Never had the time to read books, I uh, got busy alot so shows where a lot easier you know?”

“That's fair enough.”

Tim finished cleaning John's face and backed up,” there you go, you gonna have raccoon eyes for a while.”

John's head tilted to the side, holy shit he looked like a….a confused puppy.

“Racoon eyes?”

Tim laughed, he couldn't help it, “ ya when you brake your nose for the first time you get bruised around your eyes and they look like the face of a raccoon. It hurts but it looks cool once they heals a bit. I probably still have a picture of me with ‘em somewhere actually.”

John already had the circles forming around his eyes, they were gonna get a lot darker in the next few hours but they should clear up pretty quick.

“I see, well thank you for telling me. I'm sure it would have been quite a nasty shock to see that in the mirror with no warning.”

“Ooooooh ya” Tim laughed’ “ the first time it happened to me the guy who broke my nose had to burst into the bathroom to see why I was sobbing after I saw, God that was a daaaay. Hurt like a bitch.”

Tim saw Johns frown, he obviously saw the problem in Tims word and for a second Tim really thought he was going to ask and he would have to shut the entire conversation down because he fucked it up.

But instead John just kept it going, “ Well I'll try to keep my shock to a minimum to not startle you then.”

Tim smiled.

—------------

John saw the change in Tims demeanor when he had said that, if there was one thing John was good at t was avoiding conversations. Sure he was curious and a little worried but it wasn't any of his business. It was Tims life and childhood, whatever had happened he was fine now so there wasn't any need to push it.

It was then when John saw the blood on Tims shirt. It made Johns chest tighten, that was one of Tims favort shirts, and quite frankly one of the only peaces of clothing's he hadn't the moment well trapped in the room.

“Oh Tim your shirt…”

Tim looked down, apparently also having forgotten he was covered in Johns blood.

“Damn it! Oh fuck that sucks. I don't think I have another shirt clean…”

John had been cleaning what he could and for some reason it seemed that the cloths they put in the laundry basket occasionally got cleaned but it seemed to be at random times and if Tim said he didn't have another he didn't.

“Damn…I liked this shirt to. Ya think I’ll be able to get the blood out?”

Tim was back to rubbing his neck, like it was a nervous habit or something. Most of the blood has dried and because Tim’s shirt was a relatively light color there was little hope for it.

So John shook his head, “I think you got it on your neck…”

“Hmm? How the hell would I have gotten it on my neck??….oh..”

Tim pulled his hand from the back of his neck, and stared at it.

“Fuck.”

“You say that a lot.”

Tim’s eyes snapped back to him. Oh that was the wrong thing to say.

“Ya I do. Ya I fucking do John. You know why? Beacuse for the past two week I’ve been stuck in a freezing fucking room with my boss who suddenly 180ed how he’s acting and that’s fucking confusing. I’m cold all the time and every night I hear you walking around the room muttering to yourself about whatever the fuck you are, you have been insisting on feeding me and ahit when you never cared before. Hell apparently you wanted to feed me so fucking bad I broke your fucking nose and now I’m standing out in the cold open air well cleaning you up and now I have my only shirt covered in blood. I think I’m allowed to swear when all this shit keeps happening,” Tim took a deep breath breath

John was frozen in shock from Tims outburst. Sadly he wasn't done.

“No and you know what John? I have tried so fucking hard to bond with throughout my years working with you and all I was met with was a complete wall and hell later I was met with worse then a wall! All I got from you was distrust and a fucking staucker! We worked together for how many years before you became the head Archivest and you still thought I was some fucking monster! You took pictures of my house and I still was trying to give you grace but at every turn you just proved it was useless. What changed? Why the hell are you trying to be so fucking nice to me now?? I'd love to know!”

John sat silently staring up up at who had began rubbing his arms well pacing. He had no idea what to say, he knew after everything he hadn't treated Tim, or any of his staff really, well. Much less the respect they deserved. Tim had gone though the exact thing John had just with the extra stress of having to run through the tunnels alone. And still John treated him as a threat, he knew Tim and still was so cruel.

Tim had every right to be angry, to be hurt. And after everything he deserved to question John.

“I….I'm sorry Tim. For everything,” before he could continue Tim turned on him again.

“Your /sorry/?! Your sorry that you completely disregarded everyone and pushed all of us to our wits ends. Your sorry for all the nights where we tried to stay late to help you with whatever you thought was going on? The multiple accusations you threw around without a second thought? Your sorry? Are you fucking kidding me John!”

John flinched and looked away from Tim. All the softness and concern drained from his voice and expression.

“Yes…I'm sorry. I…nothing I say will fix it…I was to deep in my own parking and could never stop to think about you all,” John whispered.

He heard Tim scoff but he stayed quite.

“I…thank you for trying so hard Tim…I didn't..don't, deserve any kindness your understanding from you. I know before this all I was not the best ether, I'm sorry for that as well. I can't tell you what changed..I don't even remember when it did. Just after we got locked in here….I was able to stop thinking about you like that. It seems so obvious now that you couldn't, wouldn't have done anything, especially not this. You wouldn't lock me in a room with you, you wouldn't let yourself get sick…you stuck in here too. I saw how you got sick, the least I could do after everything was at least try to help..”

—-------

Tim let his arms drop. He had screamed at John and instead of fighting him, John was apologizing.

He looked so…sad? Remorseful? Guilty?

Good.

He should feel bad, after all the shit he put Tim through.

As John sat there Tim could feel all his anger leave him,it was like a weight off his chest. Without the weight he felt empty, like he had nothing to keep him going. To keep him standing.

God it was cold.

So Tim sat. He looked up at John whose head shot up when he heard something hit the ground. Damn it, he really was worried about him.

He sighed.

“Keep talking,” Tim said as he pulled his knees to his chest and rested his head on them.

“W-what?”

“Just keep talking, I'm…I can't be mad any more John, I'm too tired right now. Anything you want to tell me, tell me now. The quiet is too loud.”

Tim stared at the wall. It hadn't changed at all, still a plain, windowless, slab of cold concrete. He could hear John's breath.

“Right then. I suppose I can do that. When do you want me to start?”

Tims mouth was covered in the curled up position so even to him his words were muffled.

“Don't care”

He cared a little bit, even if he didn't have the energy to be angry he still wanted to know. Granted what John already said was more then he had ever expected to hear. He wanted more, apparently John was going to give it so he would take what he gave.

“Right. Well, you know this part already, after Martin found Gertrude's body I spiraled into a panic trying to figure out what happened. I'm still convinced that someone, or at least something killed her…but I was so far in the panic everyone seemed suspicious, no matter how much evidence I had. I needed something to blame, a reason that wasn't just some random thing killing her in a way she had no chance of stopping. I…I felt I needed to know so I could stop it happening to me. You all were the people closest so I…I blamed you. Even if it didn't make sense.”

Tim knew that, it was obvious to everyone honestly. Everyone except John himself of course, Tim supposed it was good for John to finally realize it to.

“If I'm being honest….I wanted it to be one of you so I could prove to myself that I can't trust people. But..I know it wasn't, you all, you all are good. I don't know how to approach any of you, even before all this. I'm so distant from everyone because I believed everyone was just…plotting. A Lot of the times I was right but I wasn't with you all. You all were genuinely trying to be kind to me and I refused to meet you. I'm sorry again.”

Tim hummed. He understood that train of thought, that everyone was bad and out for themselves. Hell he thought that for the longest time too, it was the only thing that kept him alive for years. He didn't notice when he stopped thinking that, was it when he found the Institute? Meeting Sasha or Martin maybe? He couldn't be sure.

Thankfully John continued after a brief pause. Tim heard the deep breaths he was taking.

“When we first got stuck in here I was still going down my rabbit hole, I don't know when I first was able to stop and think properly again. I think it was when you stopped pacing around the room, strted to hide in the blankets. I knew something was wrong and it….flipped a switch and suddenly I was just able to…trust you.”

Tim lifted his lead and looked at John, who was looking anywhere but him.

“You..you trust me?”

Silence.

Tim thought he was going to backtrack or ignore him but,

“Yes. I trust you Tim”

John finally looked at Tim.

The bruises around John's eyes were starting to darken and Tim couldn't help but start to laugh.

After everything, after Prentiss and all the fucking worms, the servalance tapes, everything. This is what got John to trust him. He decked John in the face not even an hour ago and now he was flat out saying he trusted him!

He could see the confusion on John's face but as his eye crinkled so did the starting bruises and it just looked so ...so funny on John. John who was always so serious and methodical and paranoid looked like he had a painted on bandits mask.

Tims laughter dubbed and he ended up laying back on the hard floor. John to his credit stayed quite as Tim laughed, just as he didn't when he yelled. But that didn't make it any less funny.

“Holy hell John,” Tim barely breathed out between bursts of laughter.

“You, you make no sense!”

—-----------------

Tim was still having with laughter as John processed what was going on.

He had no idea why Tim was laughing. Just a few minutes ago he was angry and yelling but now? Right after John told him he trusted him..did he think John was lying?

If he were less worried about Tims sudden for of laughter he would have given himself the moment to just enjoy the sounds. Later that night he would think about it and realize it was the first time he really heard Tim laugh. Not just he chuckles and short huffs, a real laugh.

When Tim finally called down he stayed laying on the floor. His breathing was loud and felt exaggerated but John didn't say anything.

“You know John, you have the strangest mind.”

More beats of silence

“Do…do you really trust me or are you just fucking with me John?”

Finally John was able to say /something/.

“ When have I ever “fucked with you”? I am of course I do trust you I wouldn't just say that…”

Tim chuckled again, “ it's just odd John, I was so angry at you a bit ago but now, now I just ... .God I don't know.”

John sat there confused and frankly a little concerned.

The both of the sat there, John could feel the tissue in his nose collecting blood and it was weird.

“Hay John…”

John looked at Tim immediately.

“Yes?”

“You're a real prick, you know that?”

Although he was insulting him Tims voice didn't have any anger in it anymore, not as far John could tell. Then again John was shit at telling somehow knew. Not John.

“I..yes I am aware.”

Tim groaned

“ God you sound like one too! Seriously you need to lighten the fuck up and learn how to talk without sounding like a English teacher.”

“I think the way I talk is just fine,” John said defensively. His arms crossed over his chest.

“No, no you really do. I swear you give me flashbacks of falling asleep in 10th grade English. It's crazy,” Tim was still laying on the floor and while John couldn't see it, was smiling.

“Well perhaps the reason you think it's odd is because you were napping while being taught proper language.”

“Na, you're just weird. Also no one just says ‘perhaps’ John. Nobody.”

Tim finally sat back up. He leaned back on his hands and looked at John. He sighed.

“I'm sorry John.”

What? What could you be apologizing for? I-”

“Cuz I just started fuckin yelling at you man. You didn't even do anything and I just blew off on you,” John was about to interrupt but Tim held up his hand.

“I mean I had every right, have, for that matter, to be angry but I just blew up on you when you were probably just trying to mess with me. Fuck I broke your nose and then cleaned you up and then yelled at you! Here I am going on about mixed signals and doing it myself! It wasn't fair. I'm sorry.”

“Um, thank you?”

“Was that a question?”

“I…No?”

“Why are you just asking questions? I'm trying be sincere here man.”

“I know I just, I don't know what to do. I, I am not used to being apologized to..”

“Martin says sorry to you all the time?????”

“Well, ya, but that's ,Martin. He apologizes for everything, even when he's done nothing wrong.”

Tim agreed and laughed a little.

“I suppose that's true. But ya John, I should've, I should've handled it better. Especially cuz I just broke your nose well you were trying to do something nice to me.”

“I did catch you off guard. You can't be fully to blame.”

Tim laughed again. John felt himself smile. He didn't quite understand what was going on or how Tim reacted but he liked that he seemed calmer. He seemed calmed then he had been since the two of them had been trapped. John didn't want to ruin that. Tim deserved a moment of calm.

Then Tim had a full body shiver. It snapped John out of his semi-daze.

“Are you alright?”

“Fuck ya I'm fine,” Tim was rubbing his arms again.

It must have been a trick of the light but John could have sworn Tims lips where blue.

“I'm just a bit cold. Its fucking freezeing in here.”

“You should lay back down, maybe eat some more.”

“Oh shut it. I'm fine. It's just a bit cold. It's not like the floor is helping any though.”

John went to stand up, but when he did it felt like a rush of dizziness and nausea ran though his bones. He quickly sat back down. His eyes squeezed shut trying to stop the room from spinning around him.

“Oh shit, John.”

He felt Tims strong hand on his shoulder holding him up to prevent him was falling forward.

Strong hand? Why was he thinking that. It's just Tims hand.

“Hey, it's ok. Just breath, Itll go away soon.”

John nodded. He reached his hand up to hold Tim's arm he took deep breaths and slowly he could feel the world righting itself around him.

When he finally opened his eyes Tim was right in front of him kneeling on the floor. His arm reached him stabilizing John and the other rested on the chair, just shy of touching him.

Tims eyes were on his, the brown color piercing into Johns.

“You ok there John,” Tims said softly.

His voice was always so smooth, it never sounded bad. Tim was so close to him.

John nodded, he opened his mouth but when nothing came out he closed it again and looked away from Tims concerned eyes.

“You lost a shit ton of blood you know, you really should be more careful. You, of all people, should know about the dizziness man.”

“Right, I was just trying to-”

“Ether way man,” Tim interrupted “You can't be fucking stupid. Come on, I'll help you to lie down.”

“I can walk just fine on my own.”

John was trying but Tim had other plans. He slid his arm under johns and lifted him to his feet. John's head swam as he rose.

“Every time you have tried to walk in the past, however I've been out of my blankets you've almost fallen so I don't wanna hear it.”

Tim walked John over to his pile of blankets. Not Johns little spread but Tims own.

“And before you start bitching about this being my…. pile, I broke your nose and you lost a lot of blood, you need to stay warm. You can use my stuff tonight.”

As Tim sat John down he was able to catch up with what he was saying.

“What about you? I gave you all these because you've been shivering all night.”

“John….have you been watching me sleep.”

It didnt really sound like a question but John answered it anyway.

“Well it's not exactly hard to notice. I uh, I don't sleep a lot. I spend a lot of time trying to find something but I do….check on you occasionally. You shiver a lot so I have been giving you any new blankets that appear. I don't really need them.”

Tim stared at John. He could tell if he was angry or not, he looked almost passive. Well he wasn't holding John any more he could still almost feel a chill coming off of Tim. The little bit of his arms that were exposed were covered in goosebumps.

That's one thing John never understood about Tim, his style. He would wear a lot of more revealing clothes, nothing too scandalous during work but he seemed to be wearing it under his clothes.If John sent him to get information he always came back to the institute…wearing less then when he left. Right now, he was wearing one of his only long sleeves he currently had. The only problem was that his sleeves had holes at the shoulders. The shirt was designed like that. And it's not like it looked /bad/ on Tim, it just defeated the point of wearing long sleeves.

John realized he was staring at Tims shoulders and looked back up at Tims face. They both knew he was cold and before John could start to object Tim did something completely unexpected.

“Ugh fine. I don't want to hear a word from you about this. Got it? You did this yourself and the only reason I'm doing it is because your right about me being cold. Its fucking freezeing in here and it's crazy your not frozen to death with the week ass scratchy piece of cloth that we have been calling a blanket.”

Tim shifted to sit next to John and layed down.

“Well come on, I'm not going to sit with the cold air hitting me for much longer.”

John didn't say anything and lied next to Tim on the thick comforter he had pushed over the concrete floor to protect from the cold. Tim quickly pulled the other 4, yes 4, blankets over the two of them.

“There, now you can't complain.”

John nodded and watched as Tim curled his body so all of it was under the covers, even his head.

—————

Tim felt John shift around for a minute before finally laying still.

The blankets were big enough to cover both of them easily so it wasn’t like they were touching or anything but they were still quite close. He could feel John’s warmth under the blankets, his body heat being trapped in.

Tim had to admit it was really nice, the blankets helped but having John right next to him helped even more with the cold that continued to seep through him. He wished he could have John just fold around his body so he could soak up all his warmth. But that was asking way /way/ too much. He didn’t even ask about this, he just forced John to lay down somewhere that wasn’t on the freezing concrete.

He really did feel bad about snapping at John today. He felt justified in his anger but just because he was justified in it doesn’t mean it was appropriate. Over the past few days John really was just trying to help him, he kept insisting that he eat and he kept giving Tim his blankets.

It was really sweet when he stopped and thought about it, he could take a form of comfort in that. He also took a not so small comfort knowing John was right next to him. He could feel his warmth and feel the blankets shift as he did.

And even though Tim was always cold he usually held one tight against his chest. He just couldn’t sleep without holding something, when he was home he had a stupid stuffed animal that he would hold at night but here he didn’t. Any semblance of comfort Tim useily took part in was gone, for now and the foreseeable future. But he could at least have this for now, even if it was only for tonight.

Maybe he could convince John to sleep like this more. He thought as he curled even more into himself and tried to fall asleep.

That’s for what I thought would be a good chapter 1!

I do have more written and I am continuing to wright it:)

Should I start posting this to Ao3 now or should I wait?

I love feedback and suggestions!

If you want to be tagged when I post about this fic let me know and I’ll try! :)

Thank you so much for reading!

[null-whump]

HELLO everyone I did not edit this AT ALL and I am in SEVERE PAIN but by GOD I finished it and here it is for you to read!! and enjoy!! and comment on!!!!! and maybe the next update won't take so fucking long!!! great!!!!!!

(it was also supposed to be longer than this but I know that if I put it off anymore it'll be two months before I post anything at all)

Ace and Hunter Masterlist

Warnings: Forced domesticity, collaring/muzzling, mentions of past torture, abuse, brief strangulation/choking, restraints

-----------------------------------

Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.

Why did people say ‘tick-tock’ for a clock sound? All Ace could hear was the same tick, tick, tick, tick, tick, over and over and over and over. Maybe some clocks were different than others. Maybe Hunter’s clock was just boring.

Your clock. You picked that one out, remember?

Ace clenched his jaw.

Remember? You said you wanted an old clock that you could wind up that would chime on the hour, so you went to an antique shop and found that one. Remember? Remember how you picked it because you thought Hunter would like the little wooden bird carving on the top?

Tick. Tick. Tick.

“This is stupid,” Ace muttered.

The sound of his own voice startled him. It had been so silent in the house, all day, while he waited for Hunter to get home from work. It didn’t help that he was chained to the floor in the living room, just out of reach of any furniture. He had been there since eight in the fucking morning. He had tried to keep his mind occupied. Ace had learned the first time that Hunter left him chained down that trying to pull the chains free was useless and would only make his hands hurt. He also learned that pacing in the very little room that he could made the cuffs chafe at his ankles. He didn’t stop though, because day after day after day of mind-numbing boredom made him prefer any distraction.

Distraction from the manacles around his legs, distraction from the injuries burning and itching under the bandages, distraction from the collar digging into his throat –

Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.

That stupid fucking clock. Ace glared at it. 4:56, it told him, unfazed. That meant Hunter would be home soon. Then he would unchain Ace from the living room and chain him back up in the kitchen where he would make dinner and then if he was lucky, Ace would get half a meal from the scraps Hunter served him from his plate. Then Ace would clean up dinner and Hunter would do whatever the fuck Hunter did until he decided to put Ace back in the basement for the night. At least he had a blanket now. And a pillow – and Hunter had started leaving the chains off two weeks ago.

Ace nearly laughed. He had been sleeping in a basement for nearly two months. But hey, at least he had a fucking blanket.

The clock whirred and began chiming for 5 o’clock. Ace sighed. At least he knew that Hunter wouldn’t take out his knives today. He always gave Ace at least two days of rest between ‘sessions’, and yesterday Hunter had been…more enthusiastic than usual. Ace shuddered at the memory, the bandaged wounds on his arms flaring up. He could probably count on three days, maybe four. As long as he didn’t fuck up a rule or something.

Ace heard the door swing open and scrambled to his knees. The burst of adrenaline that accompanied the sound of Hunter’s footsteps made his heart race, no matter how many times he heard it. Ace placed his hands on his knees and took a deep steadying breath as Hunter entered the room.

‘Just say it, you’ve said it dozens of times, it doesn’t mean anything it’s just words it doesn’t make you weak it’s just a part of surviving –’

“Welcome home, sir.”

Hunter reached down and ruffled his hand through Ace’s hair. “How was your day, raindrop?”

‘The same as it always is, fucker.’

“It was fine, sir.”

“Really?” Hunter smiled. “You weren’t bored, then?”

‘You fucking know I was.’

“…A little, sir.”

Hunter made a ‘hmm’ sound in the back of his throat. He hooked his finger under Ace’s collar and tugged on it, pulling Ace to his feet.

“How would you like me to start leaving you unchained while I’m away?”

Ace’s heart skipped a beat. “I – I would like that, sir.”

Hunter leaned down until his face was inches away from Ace, who struggled to keep from flinching back. “Really? You wouldn’t take the opportunity to try to run away, then?”

Ace’s mouth was dry. “N-no, sir.”

A blatant lie, of course. And yet, Ace dared to hope that Hunter would believe it. He had been so good lately, so carefully, painfully obedient, all for the tiniest chance that Hunter would give him enough freedom to escape. He only needed a little bit, a tiny bit of leeway, just enough to contact someone – Fay, the police – anyone, really, and this nightmare would be over.

Hunter tilted his head. “Just how stupid do you think I am, Ace? Do you really think I can’t tell when you’re lying to me?”

“I – I wasn’t –”

Hunter’s hand was around Ace’s throat faster than he could blink, and the rest of his sentence was cut off as he was forced to struggle for air.

“Why don’t you think very carefully about your next words,” Hunter said softly. “I’m giving you every opportunity to do the right thing, Ace. Don’t be an idiot.”

His grip loosened minimally, enough for Ace to take in a thin breath of air. Enough for him to speak. Ace’s head spun. What was worse? To lie, when Hunter would never believe him, or to tell the truth and face whatever punishment Hunter decided to dole out?

“I…” Ace faltered, barely able to get any sound past the fear clogging his throat. He steeled his nerves and made his decision. “I – I lied,” he choked out. “I’m…I’m sorry, sir.” His stomach twisted with the knowledge that he was giving Hunter exactly what he wanted, but he was almost too afraid to care.

Hunter let go of Ace’s throat, and he nearly fell forward, gasping in relief.

“Rule number one,” Hunter said, and Ace shivered at the unsettling calmness of his voice.

“…Don’t lie to you, sir.”

Hunter considered him for a moment. “I’m going to show you exactly how useless it would be to try to run, but first…” he lowered the bag slung over his shoulder and reached into it. “I had a feeling I would need this today.”

He pulled out his hand, and with it, a black cloth contraption that flashed with metal clasps. Ace’s pulse skyrocketed, because he knew immediately what it was. Hunter smirked at the panic evident on Ace’s face.

“W-wait – please, I’ll be quiet, don’t –”

Hunter silenced him with a slap across his face, hard enough to make Ace’s eyes water. “Quit complaining, unless you want it to stay on longer.”

Ace flinched and shut his mouth. He forced himself to stay still, aside from his trembling, while Hunter secured the muzzle around his face. It wasn’t that the muzzle was even the worst punishment Hunter could dole out, and Ace knew, logically, that he should be grateful he wasn’t getting something worse. It was the awful, unavoidable humiliation of wearing that thing on his face, and Hunter’s insufferably smug face looking down at him like he was a fucking dog, that made Ace want to shrivel up and die.

But he had stopped fighting it, because he knew better now. He knew what happened when he fought Hunter, just like he knew what happened when he tried to take the collar off, and he knew what happened when he wasn’t waiting to greet Hunter properly when he returned home each evening. Ace was smarter now, that’s all. He wasn’t fucking afraid.

Hunter undid the restraints around Ace’s ankles and pulled him to his feet.

“Do you think, raindrop, that I would let you wander around the house freely, with no limitations in place?” Hunter asked. As he spoke, he curled one arm around Ace’s shoulders in a too-tight embrace and guided him across the room.

Ace didn’t think Hunter wanted him to respond, and he didn’t want to risk angering him by shaking his head (an act that could too easily be seen as defiance), so he kept still and allowed himself to be pulled to the window, which had curtains pulled across it. Hunter pushed them aside, while keeping Ace well to the side. Not taking any chances on someone seeing him from the street, Ace realized.

“See this?” Hunter drew Ace’s attention to the window, tapping his finger against the glass.

Ace looked, and his heart sank as he felt another little piece of hope for an escape whither away. Inside the window frame had been reinforced with sets of crossing metal bars – inconspicuous enough that they wouldn’t stand out while leaving no room for a person to fit through.

Hunter leaned down so that his mouth was next to Ace’s ear. “All the windows in the house are like this,” he said softly, and his breath on Ace’s skin made his stomach turn. “Every door locks from the outside, and last I checked, I have the only key.” He tightened his grip on Ace’s arm until Ace was sure it would bruise. “Am I forgetting anything, raindrop? Any other way you could sneak your way out of here?”

Even without the question being posed, Ace’s mind was racing to think of something, anything that Hunter had missed, but he was coming up hopelessly short. The house wasn’t very large, and there were only so many ways in or out.

Hunter chuckled lightly. “Didn’t think so.” He finally released Ace’s shoulders and pulled the curtain back in front of the window, cutting off the sunlight. “Now, I’m hungry.”

Tears stung Ace’s eyes and he almost tripped with the loss of Hunter’s support. He stood trembling, trying to regain his wits, for just a moment too long – a cuff to the back of his head from Hunter forced him to stumble forward and shake himself out of his daze.

Dinner was a silent affair. Hunter was gracious enough to remove the muzzle and spare Ace a few scraps of his dinner, and Ace chose to stay quiet in hopes of the muzzle staying off.

His good behavior was rewarded when Hunter stashed the muzzle in a kitchen drawer instead of putting it back on Ace. Then Hunter turned to him with a smile that promised nothing good, and Ace found himself wondering if maybe he’d prefer the muzzle after all.

“Unfortunately, the security cameras I bought are on backorder,” he began. “Luckily for you, I trust my security measures enough to leave you to roam around free while I’m away.” 

Ace tried to ignore the sick feeling that was twisting in his stomach.

“Until they arrive, I’ll expect you to tell me how you spent your day when I return home every night.” Hunter placed a hand on the back of Ace’s neck and began guiding him toward the living room. “Of course, you’ll have limits on where you can go and what you can do, and you’ll be punished if you disobey. I’ll tell you before I leave each morning if you’ll be allowed to eat, and how much, and so on.”

They had reached the couch, and Hunter sat down, pulling Ace down beside him. Ace tensed but managed to force himself not to resist when Hunter gently pulled Ace’s head down to rest in his lap. He shut his eyes and tried to ignore Hunter’s fingers combing through his hair.

“How about we practice?” Hunter said. His hand stroked through Ace’s hair. “Tell me about your day.”

--------------------------

Tag list! Let me know if you want to be added or removed :)

@whumpshaped @whatwasmyprevioususername @yesthisiswhump @darkwarfy @towhumpornottowhump @villainsvictim @2day4u-2morrow4me @there-will-always-be-blood @onlyhappywhenitpains @wherethehurtis

[solipseismic]

i hope you know that every day i wish i could read your book and really enjoyed reading the nanowrimo tidbits you sent, you should infodump about it 👀

CROW ... this is so so sweet i am kissing u gently on the mouth . also this is great timing bc i am just about to compile a vigilante's guide to knowing when to die into a goog file that i can send to my friend (part of our bargain in me convincing him to do nanowrimo w me this year)

snippet from book 2 for u:

The Rift gave a sudden convulsive shudder. Skysteel felt it all the way to her ankles as it threw her out—and away. She was freefalling before she even knew it, pinwheeling through the air like a shitty paper airplane. Sky-ground-sky-ground-BUILDING passed in a dizzy blur right up until she smacked into a billboard with a comedic sound. She would have laughed, except her lungs seemed to have gone on impromptu strike at the time of impact. It really was a hard-knock life, huh? Black spots swarmed her field of vision. An Avian shrieked at the sight of her and dove, the razor talons of its feet extended fully and bladed wings gleaming in the bright sun. Poltergeist and Eidolon were both yelling something over comms but she couldn’t parse anything—all she could see was the golden light of the Avians surrounding her, all she could feel was the agonizing feeling of the Rift splitting open wider far above her. The golden light of the Avians turned blinding. Skysteel’s secondary eyelids dropped down for a split second. But— That was no fucking Avian. A man shining like a blue sun reached down and gently plucked an Avian off Skysteel’s prone body laying in the ruin of the billboard. One moment his hand closed around its shoulder and the next—it was a still-glowing pile of fine, off-white ash on the ground. “That was stupid,” he said. Skysteel took the hand he offered and heaved herself up out of the pieces of billboard she’d fallen to the ground with. “That’s what I want on my headstone,” she told him, wincing and touching a hand to her ribs.

anyways i rarely talk abt a vigilante's guide (which some of u who have been following for a long time may know under the previous title of "demon city" and / or "demon eyes" and so all the stuff i've posted abt it r under those tags) bc it's like That One Big project for me. like u know how brandon sanderson has the stormlight archive that kind of is the hub / culmination of all his works across the brandonsandersonverse (official term is brandon sanderson's "cosmere")? for me that's vigilante's guide. also it's exceedingly self-indulgent is the other reason.

it's gone through like 50 different iterations bc it's existed in my brain for nearly as long as i can remember (i think over a decade at this point) and the Ira Neda i talk about (my supreme blorbo, if you will) is the protagonist! i have ambitions for it spanning five books with the second (formerly "demon eyes") titled a vigilante's guide to destroying the world but right now books 1 and 2 are existing in the same doc (DEMON MEGADRAFT) because i'm trying to see what gets shaken out of it while i play with a non-linear timeline between the two

as a result, there are a lot of ideas that are getting spun into it (and even more ideas that i've had trial runs of before editing or cutting them entirely) but it's got the run of the mill superhero genre setup: we have a recognizable earth set in the near-ish future / a time that's somewhat similar to our own, we have a bunch of vigilantes running around fighting ordinary crime and supervillains (tho these are mainly just called "terrorists" in-world bc, well.), and different people have different powers from different things (but mostly it's because they're alien / part alien lol)

book one (knowing when to die) follows ira neda's arrival in anehaven, a (fictional) city in new york, where she is trying to unravel the circumstances that led to her twin brother's death several years ago. she promises herself, her family, her friends, and a lot of strangers that she isn't in that vigilante business anymore, if she ever really was: she's retired now. she just wants to live a quiet life (lie) and she doesn't intend to instigate anything (lie) and she is never picking up the mantle again (lie). but anehaven, like ira neda herself, has secrets of its own. the city is alive--and it hungers. people have been disappearing from the streets without a trace for over a year now, more and more with each month that passes. she makes some friends (criminal empress and her two partners in crime as well as ... actual partners), she makes some enemies (her fellow vigilantes) there are three questions now that have no answers: what happens to these people? why does the sidewalk have teeth? and who the FUCK is this other guy calling himself a vigilante?

book two is a little more abstract on account of I Still Haven't Figured out Subplots for it, but it's your stock alien invasion with ensemble cast: here we introduce cori sanchez, the (also) (formerly) retired HUSH, a mirek'ar necromancer; alec iakabos, SOLSTICE, and noah harper, EQUINOX, whom you can think of as "gosh, i really was VERY inspired by wildstorm comics when i was fifteen, huh," if you're familiar with apollo and midnighter from them; along with some familiar faces from the first book--alan and blue wilson (POLTERGEIST and EIDOLON, respectively) and ira neda. names capitalized to make it easier for me to keep track of them lol.

[harpieisthecarpie]

Harp's Kongzilla (Godzilla x Kong: The New Empire) Thoughts

(Update ??? 6: [Mission log. I can't tell if it has been 6 minutes since I lost contact with the outside world, or 6 years. Time doesn't move the same in this space. Will I ever be home again, or will I have to make this hellscape my "home"?] Even if you don't care about Godzilla this might be fun to watch the ✨ chaotic progression of my mental breakdown✨! Who needs Kongzilla, when you can pop some corn and watch a ✨ timelapse of Harp's kaiju-inspired demise✨?)

Just got back from seeing Godzilla x Kong: The New Empire in a really nice, really big theater and I have a torrential hurricane of thoughts I MUST get out RIGHT NOW.

THIS MOVIE FUCKS SEVERELY!!!!!!!!!!

(Edit: [kind of an edit I haven't posted this yet] It has been an 1hr and 1/2 since I started typing and I haven't gotten through my spoiler-free review. Kongzilla was only 1hr 55min bro. I am so fucking lost in the sauce bro.)

(Edit 2: [still haven't posted] sorry about the colored text and the bolding and the effects. It is the only way I could keep myself sane. Yes it will continue into the spoiler reblog.)

Usually the first thing I do after seeing a movie at the cinema (not including rambling about it with whoever went with me to the theaters) is look up what other people are saying on the internet. Reviewers, Tumblr, general internet surfing (I'm a nosey bitch who likes to see who I disagree with, sue me).

But I COULD NOT with this one. I turned all my notifs off. They are staying off until I fucking finish this post.

(Edit 3: [I'll post eventually] YES I intend to keep that promise until I finish the spoiler-filled reblog. I took an extra of my ADHD meds to stay up this late. I HAVE to expend that energy somehow.)

Also, I am going to refer to Godzilla x Kong: The New Empire as Kongzilla going forward. I still haven't checked tumblr so it's probs a ship name but it's what I've been calling the movie in my head since I was told I was going to watch it in theaters.

Big Godzilla and Kaiju buffs PLEASE take all my commentary with a grain of salt. I don't know goddamn ANYTHING in depth about Godzilla movies or lore.

Also this is a sequel! I haven't seen the first one!! But I didn't even need to see it bc there is just the right amount of context that you don't have to have seen the 1st to watch this one! So, truly not a point against me. Rather, a point TOWARDS this movie.

The only reason I've seen so many Godzilla movies in theaters is because my brother has been OBSESSED WITH and ENAMORED BY classic kaiju movies and their successors since before my brain was able to make long-term memories, probably even before I was born.

So I go to all the big Kaiju blockbusters with him because he is my big bro and I care about his interests (and also because no matter the movie quality, I didn't pay for the ticket and I probably also got free popcorn). Pretty much ALL of what I know about Godzilla lore is from him and also manga that have kaiju (or are at least kaiju inspired).

Okay, I am gonna ramble all my thoughts. BUT!!!! If you are like me and end up checking Tumblr to see if you'll like a movie, I'll leave something for you. It starts at the TL;DR in purple and goes past the read more.

(Edit 4: [This rambling review I initially wanted to make for the tumblr interaction for fun has turned into my own personal Purgatory/Saw trap. Free me.] Moved the read more cutoff further up because I rambled MORE during my read through. I also ended up removing most of the purple emphasis coloring, bc if people don't read this fucking thing because of too much color I'm EATING THIS FUCKING LAPTOP.)

I was gonna do my spoiler rambling here too but I have been going for over and hour and several paragraphs, so the spoilery rambling will be in a reblog of this post. If you're even interested. IF YOU EVEN CARE.

TL;DR WATCH THIS MOVIE.

Even if you're not the biggest Godzilla or kaiju buff, even if you haven't seen the first movie in this series. WATCH IT.

Also, once more I am a Godzilla layman. The lore is my brother's zone. I do not speak for what Godzilla and kaiju buffs would think. Please Godzilla Tumblr fandom don't kill me!!!! If I say I thought Kong and Godzilla were kinda hot ( I mean this in the monster fucker way NOT the furry way [not that I'm bashing furries. I'm not a furry tho.]) will that make you like me more or less?????

ANYWAYS

It is fucking fun!!!!! And also the WEIRDEST whiplash between heartwarming and funny that I have never seen work before. BUT IT WORKS HERE!! SO WELL!!!!!

Even if you are jaded about seeing movies (especially franchise films, reboots, and actions) I recommend it. I am also jaded, it's been so long since there has been something I wanted to see in theaters.

And as of 1:26 AM my time, about 1hr and 30min since I left the theater (please let me ouuuut) I AM 100000% WILLING TO SEE IT AGAIN. I'D PAY FOR MY OWN TICKET !!!!! (I never pay for my own ticket! People have to bribe me into the theaters!)

The only other recent one I've enjoyed has, funnily enough, been Godzilla Minus One. And for similar(???) but also very different(!!!!) reasons.

Godzilla -1 was very thoughtful and painful and it made you sit in the despair the characters felt as their lives were razed to the ground. I also 10000% recommend you see Godzilla -1, but only if you want to experience a story that flays open a lot of the devil-may-care destruction that action (and monster) movies revel in.

Kongzilla didn't give me any fucking time to think (I mean that in the BEST way). It was 1hr 55min long (very refreshing) and it was batting me around like a fucking pinball in a Godzilla-Kong-FoundFam pinball machine. I was just along for the ride, but now I am left bereft in my many many thoughts. Which is why we are here.

Jesus I am rambling more than I expected okay uh uh. Now for a DO WATCH IF vs DON'T WATCH IF, in case my words have failed to compel you.

Pros Coloring Code

Pink = Emotional reasons to watch Blue = Action reasons to watch Orange = Horknee reasons to watch (hey, it happens) Green = ????

DO watch if:

You are a sucker for found family

You are a sucker for big monster found family

ACTION!! THRILLS!!! BIG MONSTERS FIGHT RAAAAA

You have been looking for a heartfelt, yet funny (and fun) action that actually feels like it has a heart (I am subtly critiquing you superhero movie industrial complex)

YASSIFIED PINK GODZILLA

BIG MONSTER CGI THAT LOOKS ACTUALLY GOOD!!!!

Pretty ladies!!!!! (I could see the main lady's shimmery gloss and freckles in hi def it was a spiritual experience. God shes gorgeous I'm gonna reblog so many gifsets)

Pretty men!!!!! (Australian vet weirdgirl [but man] was treated as the seductive hottie by the movie and goddamn they were RIGHT. Also conspiracy theorist dude was so fucking handsome too. I don't even LIKE men!)

A cute kid dealing with the loss of her entire world and thrust into a place she doesn't feel she belongs.

That cute kid being the DAUGHTER of the main lady. They communicate in sign and it is so fucking heartfelt and genuine!!! (more l8er)

Unexpected (to me) polycule???? Not ACTUALLY canon but bro it felt like it (even more l8er). Idc if some element was queer/ship bait. I fell hook, line, and SINKER. Get that kid 2 extra dads with her order of mom!!!!!!

Silver fox (ba dum tss) grizzled GILF Kong???? I was not expecting that the wet meow meow of the movie would be KONG, but... here we are

Seriously an alt title could be Kong and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day

POW! BWAAAAA!!!!! VWOOOOOO

Godzilla destroys a nuclear facility in France.

Bro this got so long I had to go back and fucking color code.

(Edit 5: You have no fucking idea bro. Your rambling [and emotional state] gets worse!)

DO NOT watch if:

You have photosensitive epilepsy or if you feel there is ANY chance flashing or flickering lights might trigger a seizure. It fucking sucks how few movies are safe for people dealing with photosensitive seizures (or any photosensitivity issues) but this IS one of the ones that'll fuck you up. Do NOT risk your health for GILF Kong. He would want you to stay safe and healthy!

I'm 10000% serious about the warning. There is a scene where they were warping into Hollow Earth and the flashing and flickering and general sight fuckery got bad enough to make ME have to look away. It lasted for at least a minute too. Jesus.

DO NOT SEE THIS IF FLASHING LIGHTS AND CINEMA FUCKERY WILL RISK YOUR HEALTH.

In a similar vein, if you experience vertigo or really bad motion sickness this movie will be hell. The story deals with gravity and spacial fuckery and the cinematography reflects that. The opening shot was REALLY COOL but it was dizzying. You could probably get away with watching it at home, but it'll FUCK YOU UP at the cinema.

You just in general don't like back-to-back always bumping action. If you wanna see a newer Godzilla movie but don't fancy the roller-coaster movie feel, look into Godzilla Minus One.

Okay!!!! I think this is finally fucking it? For the spoiler-free discussion at least. God. Whatever is happening to me is unholy.

If i wake up tomorrow (today) and I'm still as fucked up about this movie, if this isn't just the fucking extra ADHD med, if it turns out my newest hyperfixation is a fucking Western Godzilla x Kong movie series????

I think I'll have to toss myself into a panic chamber, in case I am suddenly overcome by the impulse to buy kaiju models worth hundreds of dollars (I know there are more expensive ones but I am poor enough to know my own limits) for ME to keep instead of for my brother.

Oh Jesus, I won't even be able to ramble with him about it because I'd become fixated in a queer/monsterfucker way and either he wouldn't at all understand or I would be forced to reckon with a reality where I know my brother's romantic preferences and those preferences are giant monsters. I couldn't take that man it'd be joever for me.

OKAY WRAP IT UP LOSER!!!!

That's it for the spoiler free section! Either I will pass out as soon as I hit post or I'll end up writing for like 3 more hours regarding spoilers.

SO CHECK THE REBLOGS (not right away give me time) FOR MY SPOILERY THOUGHTS!!!!!!

I am NOT allowing myself to look this fucking thing over again. I need to have self control.

[mbbsgf]

HUGE TRIGGER WARNING AHEAD !!

mentions of murder, child abuse, p€dophilia, r@pe, cannibalism, drugs and sexual assault, necrophilia. (let me know if there's more)

————————————————————————————

i warned you at the top of this post, don't read if any of the mentioned topics trigger you.

————————————————————————————

i've been studying true crime for as long as i can remember but i've never been that shocked until now. until i heard about the daisy's destruction case. peter scully is a 61 old man (he currently is in jail) who have done the most gut wrenching, horrifying things i've read. he didn't act alone but he was the "brain" of these crimes. he and his two "girlfriends" kidnapped children promising their parents health and a great situation or whatever but that's clearly not what happened. now the story behind daisy's destruction is fucking insane and horrifying so it's not too late to quit, i don't wanna be in charge of any tears or anything take care of yourselves. one of the girls kidnapped three children. liza, cindy and daisy (i believe this is their names, i apologize if not). i haven't seen the video daisy's destruction since we can't find it on this side of the internet, only on the dark web and for obvious reasons i will not go on the dark web. especially not to see this horror. peter basically r@ped those little girls. to clarify, liza was 11, cindy was 10 and daisy was 18 months old. peter had cindy digging her own grave before strangling her to death. liza and daisy are still alive but they obviously are traumatized and it was confirmed that daisy is unable to have children due to severe injuries around her vagina. i wish them the best and i hope cindy is resting in peace after the hell she went through.

jeffrey dahmer. dear lord, where do i even start? jeffrey would hang in gay bars around the 80s due to his sexuality if i'm correct (correct me if not). i've been studying jeffrey's case for longer so i mostly know what i'm talking about unlike peter's case but i'm not perfect so i might make mistakes so don't hesitate to correct me. jeffrey has always been "fascinated" by death and everything that revolves around it. he would dissect dead animals with his father as a hobby. growing up, jeffrey will realize it's more than just a "scientific" fascination. it sexually attracted him. he would start off by drugging his victim's drink so it'd be "easier" to get them home (please stay safe you guys, psychos are everywhere, always hold your drinks wherever you go). his victims were all males in their 20s or so except for one who was 14. jeffrey was grown when he killed that 14 year old boy. i've personally seen pictures of jeffrey's appartement after he got arrested and those picture made me so uncomfortable. i've also seen jeffrey's polaroids and i don't even wanna comment on it. what kills me is that those photos are so easy to find like that just disgusts me and it made me so uncomfortable.

now, why did i tell y'all all that, hm? there's obviously a reason and you're right. there is. it might sound dumb or like i'm overreacting but i promise i'm not. i've seen MULTIPLE facebook pages, tiktok edits and instagram accounts glorifying and idolizing those monsters. mostly jeffrey because peter's case isn't really known but i have seen "fan" accounts of them both. it's sickening. y'all realize they took the life of innocent, beautiful people. OF KIDS. like. even if peter didn't kill liza and daisy, he still took their life away from them. jeffrey murdered, ate and drugged people. peter raped, murdered and tortured little girls and you have nothing better to do than to create a fucking fan account to support them? you're sick. honestly, fucking disgusting. you think peter or jeffrey would show mercy to you if you were in front of them? you think they'd be like "oh you're my fan, all good!" NO, THEY WOULDN'T. they are murderers and you are glorifying their actions. honestly, you're as sick as peter and jeffrey if you think their actions are okay. i'm sick to my stomach just thinking about the edits i saw of jeffrey with a cute ass stupid caption saying "i could fix him" or "he wouldn't hurt anyone" well shame on you. he did and he admitted to it. the families of the victims maybe have facebook, tiktok or instagram. how do you think they'd feel if they saw their son's/daughter's, cousin's, little brother's/sister's, nephew's/niece's murderer being loved, supported and idolized? you guys are sick. you need to get off your phone and go touch some grass seriously.

that's all i wanted to say, goodnight.

[acorncoffeeformysweetheart]

Okay, I decided to edit that fic and write a whole post about the furniture in the Cabot house. Spoiler alert: yes, Ed and Sole finally kissed after two years of awkward tension (even though Sole already has these two dumbasses, Mac and Gage).

I thought this could be a nice example of environmental storytelling. I understand that it is impossible to realize this in such a large game, but I can write about it.

 Let me start by saying that five years after the bombs fell, Ed decided to get married, which made Jack absolutely mad. Ed left the job, but four months later, Jack and Emogene apologized and begged him to come back because they could not find anyone suitable to replace Ed. He agreed to return. Jack began to behave much more respectfully, gave Ed a big raise in salary, and a large room on the first floor next to the kitchen.

I found this photo three years ago and fell in love with it. It’s very close to what I’m thinking about. "Went to get wood", Wood, found objects, ≈12’x9’x10’, 2008 - by Ethan Hayes-Chute

Ed, like many ghouls, has sleep issues, and his room is very different from the rest of the house. It is painted dark green (even the ceiling). Thick, heavy curtains hang from the window. The bed is just huge, 2+ meters, because Ed himself is fucking huge two-door brick-built fridge. And this bed is for sleeping. No one in their mind would bring women to the house they are working for, especially since Ed was generally not interested in this (his wife and child lived in the next house). So, the bed takes up a significant part of the room; there are several different blankets and a dozen of pillows on it, and when Ed sleeps, he buries himself in them like in a nest (quite funny, yes). He even has this silly pillow stuffed with aromatic herbs that you put under your main pillow to make it smell nice.

 He has a lot of strange things in there because his duties include working with caravan owners, knowing who sells what, where, and when, and seeing a lot of different things. And periodically, he buys something for himself because, why not?

 After all, when a single mature man works a lot, he should have his me-time and me-things. And Ed has several hobbies. He loves good clothes. He gathered a whole collection of these goddamned (oh, I adore them) Irish grandpa caps (although he had a hat for any occasion, the sun of the wasteland will burn your bald head). He drinks a lot and smokes like twice as much as Sole and Mac together.

So his room, still perfectly clean, has a lot of stuff in it. A large wardrobe (because he has a lot of good clothes for weekends and even has a seamstress friend who sews for him), a full-length pre-war mirror—a true rarity. Several large shelves with books, notebooks, and folders with blueprints—because he does all the engineering work around the house (after all, he is a former navy engineer; during the war he served on a ship, and he has been on airships and loves them), looks after weapons and equipment, and also helps Jack with the simple stages of his research. Large work desk. A comfortable armchair for reading (oh, I adore the fact that the community unanimously considers him a reading person).

Soon after the assault on Parsons, one by one, the Cabots died. Ed buried them and grieved. He drank for three months and even gave the cats to Daisy because he was afraid he wouldn't be able to take good care of them. Then he joined one of the caravans and worked as a security guard for six months just to get his mind off things, to be in the fresh air, and to be around people, not for money. 

Then he pulled himself together and returned to the house. You know, this may sound cool—I inherited a house like this. But in reality, no. And Ed didn't want that. After all, he could live anywhere.

He took off paintings and removed unnecessary furniture. When Sole came for the first time after a long break, she was very surprised. The living room and dining room (in fact, Ed moved there) greatly changed. They have lost their fashionable gloss but have become warmer and cozier. It was immediately obvious that he now lives here. There was a knitted blanket and colored pillows on the sofa. Instead of that huge portrait, Ed hung a simple rug, the kind Sole had seen in farmers' houses. There were books on the coffee table, by the sofa, and on the dining table. An open bottle of whiskey and a glass. Ed carried the wood-burning stove into the dining room and carefully routed its chimney out the window. On it stood a large, bulbous copper kettle. Simple clay bowls and one huge crooked wooden one for all the weird beer snacks Sole loved so much.

He almost stopped using electricity, except for the reading lamp. There were now large grease candles in metal trays everywhere. And one oil glass lamp (similar to Orthodox icon lamps in Sole’s homeland) so that there is always a fire lit at home, from which you can light a cigarette (he still tried not to smoke in the house, although no one could stop him). I think there should be a smoking balcony with chairs and potted cacti. Ed used to smoke there with Emogene. There was never anything romantic between them, but she sympathized with him and loved his company.

Overall, it was a large and lonely house. It saw a lot. So when Gage asked Ed to come live with them on the lake, Ed was very relieved. Everything has become easier. He was a simple man, and his pleasures were simple. Beloved woman nearby. Beautiful view. A friend's little funny son (Ed loves children and got along well with Duncan). Clean water to bathe at any time. Farm animals. The forest. The caravan still comes once every ten days; you can have a drink and listen to their stories. You can take a boat and go fishing. You can even pack your stuff and go to the sea or to Diamond City if you really want to. Life is good.

At the farm, Ed lives not in the house itself but in the former boat house and workshop, in which part of it was first fenced off, and later another room was added. The room was small, and most of it was taken up by the bed. Pillows and blankets. Books are on shelves under the ceiling. In the same place where a huge amount of dried herbs hung. Ed continued to distill and collect herbs for infusions, cooking, and medicine. He made delicious tea, massage-soothing cream, and even a little perfume on holidays as gifts. Sole loved sleeping in his bed during the day; the room was always cool and smelled deliciously of herbs, wood, and oil. Calm and safe.