#especially on something fictional

[coffinwoodx]

couple of screenshots of kim’s wikipedia page that i felt so deeply in my soul

[spaciebabie]

if you are someone like me who has trouble processing life events/mental health stuff create an oc. like. make a guy who's entire story is yours, who knows every inch of your suffering b/c they are you but maybe all their troubles stem from being in an intergalactic war with goob noobs or something. hurt them in terrible ways so that you dont hurt yourself.

[cfffrk]

WW2 AU

PART 1

(+2scetches)

One September day, B. Wooster found out about Jeeves' disappearance from Aunt Dahlia's telegram.

Early summer of 1940. Bertram Wooster was completing his studies at an aviation school. At the same time his faithful valet, Jeeves, temporarily went to the service of the already mentioned relative at Brinkley Court and became the second jewel in the staff of servants besides the highly talented cook Anatole.

Due to the straitened financial situation of Uncle Tom, who complained more and more about the increasing taxes, the dearest aunt had to take forced measures and fire a few servants. She wanted to make a small sacrifice, and it might have been enough if one day her stingy husband had not cut the already small wages of the remaining servants. Many of them had applied for dismissal after that, and they were quite understandable.

This radical decision, although to a lesser extent, also affected Jeeves. Nevertheless, he continued to be a professional. He fulfilled his basic duties and often helped her, and her old friends get out of troubles.

Within a few months of Jeeves' work, they had become friends. Bertram almost felt like a third wheel in this idyll when he came to visit and boast of his achievements. Aunt Dahlia treasured her new valet and his unrivalled intelligence, and often jokingly promised in letters to her nephew that Jeeves would be returned safe and sound.

That was why she was seriously worried when Jeeves went missing. One clear day in early September, an elderly relative had let him go to London on his own business. In addition to this, it was Jeeves' duty to check on their good old Berkeley Mansions flat from time to time and keep it clean, so he planned to finish his business by evening and stay in the city overnight. He was supposed to return early the next morning. But that never happened. Not in two days. Not in three.

That night London was bombarded.

Something seemed to snap and collapse inside Bertie when he learnt that the search for Jeeves had been fruitless. Neither his relatives nor his club could shed any light on his mysterious disappearance.

The dark thoughts from which Bertram had fled during the day caught up with him at night. He would toss and turn on the hard bed, thinking of Jeeves's fate and replaying happy memories of their past, and in the daytime, tired and broken, he would give his duty to his country.

The whole situation seemed strange and unreal to him. The only thing that was found out for sure was that no one appeared in the apartment that miraculously survived the monstrous raids that day. It was dusty.

A couple of months had passed since the tragedy that divided Bertie's life into before and after. The war continued. He was learning to adjust to his new reality.

Sometimes he managed to carve out some free time and pop into London for a bit. The city where he had lived more than a third of his life was in ruins. The familiar places where he used to meet his friends and have a good time were empty.

Your humble servant avoided going into that very flat. There were too many vivid memories of that place, which painfully and mercilessly squeezed Bertram Wooster's poor skull. Indeed, the most precious person in his life had been living at his side all that time.

But still, as the sole and responsible owner of his property, he had to overpower himself. He had to go in and make sure that everything was all right. And one such day Bertie found himself there, in their former cozy home.

He walked in and looked around the living room: a layer of dust covering almost everything, furniture wrapped in covers, and only a few of his own things that he had left or forgotten here. The piano was covered with a cloth. Unbearably quiet and lifeless. There was nobody else to keep order here, nobody else's hand to create the home comfort. Sorrowful feelings pressed upon his chest.

He looked all over the flat. Almost all of it. There was only one room left to check.

After a moment's hesitation, Bertram pulled himself together and went into Jeeves's room. He had only glimpsed it from inside before. It was modest and not as spacious as his bedroom. Wooster sat down on the perfectly made bed, looking at what little was left of his dear friend, guide, and philosopher. His eyes rested on the various books dusting the shelves and cupboards.

He recognized one of them. It was the volume of Spinoza's writings he had given Jeeves for his birthday. No doubt Jeeves had read it all. As the rest of the books in the room. Bertie remembered his politely grateful smile and how he had clearly decided that this fellow deserved a whole library of those Spinozas.

He got out of bed. The code of the Woosters did not allow him to touch other people's things (even if those things belonged to a man who might never come back into his life), but something outweighed the young master's unwavering principles that day.

He didn't even notice how he left the flat with the book in his hands.

Of course, this sort of talisman invariably occupied a place in his suitcase. Though he had endeavored to handle the book with care, it had become tattered with the passage of time. Bertram often held it in his hands, flicked through the pages, ran his eyes over the neat pencil notes of its former owner. It calmed him a little in the most difficult moments of his pilot practice. He didn't understand anything about philosophy, but he treasured this book too damn much.

When they reunited, they were about a year away from the end of the war. The house with their previous flat was in a state of emergency damaged by the recent bombing raids, so Jeeves looked for a new flat for them while his employer was still undergoing treatment.

It happened some time later after their move-in. Jeeves was doing his household chores while the young master followed him around and chattered about anything that came into his head. It would have annoyed anyone, but not Jeeves.

You see, he had been abroad for a long time. However, he was not on holiday. Against his will, he was assigned important tasks and missions which he had to fulfil if he did not want to lose his freedom, his successful career, his reputation, his family, and friends. The special promise of making one particular person's life unbearable also left him no choice.

Every day, Jeeves felt like he was sitting on a powder keg: at any moment, a surprise inspection could come through the doors of his headquarters. A highly undesirable event for a man who kept fake documents, weapons, and encrypted data transmission devices in his flat. But all possible escape routes had been carefully worked out and memorized: Jeeves was always prudent. Otherwise, he had to have time to take a special pill before he found himself tied to a chair in a small interrogation room.

Keeping his charm and politeness, he was effective in getting the right information from the right people. His knowledge of psychology and accumulated experience of working with people helped him in this.

Jeeves' missions were rarely close to failure. His life depended on it.

The slightest mistake could have been fatal to him. Of course, he had learned much about the country during his training to pass for a typical Frenchman. His French had been practically flawless even before, which only made his life easier. But still somewhere in the back of his mind was the fear that he would be exposed for the smallest inaccuracy.

Jeeves lived under a false identity with a fake life story. He changed outwardly and inwardly. His gait, the way he spoke, his body language, his facial expressions. He had complete control over his body. Especially his gaze, which could tell a lot about his thoughts. It was exhausting.

After a long time of living in this way, he began to have trouble sleeping: he slept very little and sensitively or could not fall asleep at all.

He rarely had any dreams during the restless hours when he was able to fall asleep. Sometimes he had nightmares. But they were not about him. They were about Mr Wooster. Same scenario: church, flowers, closed coffin. Then it would slowly open from the inside. And Jeeves would wake up in a cold sweat.

On sleepless nights, he was also tormented by thoughts of his former employer. Where was he now? Was he all right? Was he even alive? How did he feel about his disappearance? Would he want to see him again...?

Jeeves felt his mind, which he relied on in the most critical situations, begin to fail.

Meeting his employer again and doing the household chores for him, he felt himself slowly getting his head in order. He was enjoying the much-anticipated company of Mr Wooster. It soothed him and made him feel at home.

Jeeves opened the closet to put the ironed clothes in it. The young master standing next to him had been lost in the chatter and missed the moment when he should have pulled him back. In the next moment Jeeves had pulled the ruined book out of the wardrobe the same way as he pulled out foreign clothes. By the title of the book, he thought at first that his master was interested in serious literature. But on closer look and leafing through the book, he realized that it was his own.

Bertie watched it silently with his eye wide open. He couldn't just get rid of it, but at the same time he was ashamed to return a book in such a terrible condition to its owner. He planned to buy the exact same one soon, but until then, this volume of essays would be safely hidden away. But here his innocent secret was revealed. Jeeves looked at him with a silent question in his eyes.

He tried to justify himself, but this particular Wooster was a bad liar. Especially when the pent-up feelings were starting to overwhelm him. Jeeves often let his employer fool him about little things, but they both knew very well that it was actually impossible to do this. A couple of precise laconic remarks and B. Wooster found himself disarmed. He took a breath of air and began to speak.

Jeeves listened patiently to his poor master with a mask of calmness pulled over his face and dared not interrupt.

He was sorry. He was deeply sorry for the pain he had caused Mr Wooster and his dear people by his forced departure. However, Jeeves spoke little and reluctantly about what he had been doing in recent years and did not tell anyone about the very reasons for his disappearance. This information could have caused a lot of trouble.

And Bertram realized it. His Jeeves could not just disappear for no reason, he was sure of it. But sometimes, in the deep sleepless night, a wild guess would cross his weary mind. What if Jeeves had run away, had simply abandoned him? Of course, Bertie had scolded himself for such thoughts in the mornings then. And today when Jeeves prepares breakfast for him, reminds him to take his medicine, and helps him to dress, that idea seems to him on the verge of sanity. But then he was quite capable of finding irrefutable evidence in all sorts of little things. At that time, he did not know what to think: the search for the injured had ended, Jeeves remained on the list of missing persons.

Bertram stood before him and could find no more words. But words were no longer needed. Jeeves looked at him with bright, penetrating eyes and the silence that settled in the room was filled with peace. Jeeves was truly touched. He felt a huge boulder fall from his soul.

It seemed now, as his employer lowered his head dejectedly and hid his wet eyes from him, they had the perfect moment to dot the «i».

It's been a long day.

Of course, this book stayed in their new flat and became a symbol of something important for them. Bertram, Jeeves' poor love, had indeed taken desperate measures then.

However, Jeeves pointed out that such measures would no longer be necessary.

For now, he would be there for him. He came back.

[leolaroot]

ferengi with a service slug. its shell is waist high with a brightly patterned harness and it helps with mobility and allergen detection tasks.

support sehlat in a Vulcan classroom used for emotional self-regulation in small children. you can bury your face in soft fur or get deep pressure therapy from a large paw pressing into the centre of your chest

an old bajoran farmer who was once a resistance fighter and is always accompanied by one of his livestock, who are untrained but eager to offer support when the pain of old injuries takes away control of his right leg

a blind starfleet officer lead by a guide dog through the halls of their starship to the laboratory where they work. the dog wears an official starfleet harness and their own combadge

a young bolian woman with paralyzed hands whose service bird has been trained to retrieve, carry, and manipulate objects, open doors, and get the attention of her support worker when they arent physically near

[gradient-jeremy-asks]

I enjoyed designing her sm omg

She’s heavily based on The Headless Horseman my beautiful inspo

I wanna draw her more I am just that in love with this design 😞

[simplydnp]

personally i cannot get on the marriage hill because i feel like they have already crossed that hill without us knowing, or if they havent already they may just not be planning to. obv i dont know anything about their personal life so maybe im way off base here lol but i just feel like they've already committed to each other for the rest of their lives, thats been done! they did it 15 years ago and they've done it a hundred times since then! buying a house together is the big one where i feel like they either already got married before that and never told us, or they consider that theyre already committed enough that they don't feel the need to get married, since at this point marriage for them would just be a piece of paper. not to mention during the devan wedding video they talked about how uncomfortable a wedding would be so i feel like they've decided that they dont need to make it "official"

i think not being on it is fair. love it, hate it, whatever, but we would Know if they had done so in secret. at least, from a legal standpoint. who knows if they did a little thing for just themselves at some point--but to me, that's different than Marriage-marraige, if that makes sense.

they have been committed for a very, very long time. i hesitate to say right from the start because we just have the benefit of hindsight to know that it ended up there, but it's been there for a while.

maybe it's the romantic in me, but i want them to have that Moment. to celebrate them. where, truly, nothing else matters except them and what they mean to each other. for them to get to bring the important people in their life together and enjoy it. for them to finally breathe. and not have to worry, or think, or hesitate in living their life. obviously there will still be walls and boundaries and i don't expect to see them making out in a video, but to just exist without fear. or stress. or anxiety. to be able to show the things they really Do want to; to be able to go do the things they really want to do. that's what i want for them.

it's less about 'marraige is the final step!' and more like it's the first one into the rest of their lives.

one of the biggest themes throughout this fandom's existence, and particularly since the hiatus began, is that we just want them to be happy. to be free of expectations and pressure and speculation and erasure. and i think that's what marraige hill means to a lot of people.

to speak for myself for a moment: i've got very haggard relationships and depictions of love in my life. it feels hollow in many ways. it's described as vibrant and overwhelming and terrifying and beautiful--but for me it's... empty. i read about how it sweeps people off their feet, or it slowly builds over time, or maybe it's always been there--and i can't help but want that. even just being around it is filling for the soul. i think witnessing joy and happiness is critical to our existence. to physically see love in the world. and maybe it's cheesy and maybe it's parasocial, but i want dnp to have their happy ending. cause the twisted, chunk of meat in my head thinks that's how it's supposed to go. how it should be. is people should get to be happy, and for many of them, that includes being in love. maybe it's outdated maybe it's old-fashioned, maybe it's the ex-catholic in me, but that's what marraige should be. and maybe it's the idea that people do get there and it is possible. and it really is this beautiful thing.

in terms of their stances on it, you offer that you think they're committed enough and they may not want it--which, is a fine opinion to have. it's been a very long time since either of them have really truly talked about marraige and weddings, and add the fact that they're both private people and don't even talk relationship stuff candidly, so anything presented, i take with a grain of salt. and i don't think disliking aspects of a wedding and then also wanting one are mutually exclusive. i think there's plenty of ways to eliminate aspects and still do it. their agreement on it, to me, signals they've talked about it.

and especially with how things have been lately--with how much has changed in the last few months for them even--i don't think the option is off the table for them.

they well and truly killed the joint branding in 2018 and buried it. there were glimpses of their togetherness during the hiatus, but WAD especially pushed back on things. and yet, just a few months after it ended, they agreed to a why not--knowing it would mean inviting us back into it again. inviting in people to see. and instead of hard lines and rigid restrictions, they keep loosening the reins. and i genuinely think them being back, and us being here too, has completely changed the trajectory of their life. i don't think either of them expected to tour together again. for them to truly enjoy this. phil may have hoped, but he wasn't gonna push it if dan wasn't willing. so now that they're here, so many possibilities have opened up. and, to me, it feels like they're building momentum. and while some of that was likely for the tour, it still feels like we're heading somewhere. i've got that same gut feeling i did during ii.

take it or leave it, those are my thoughts. i doubt we'll truly know until they either do it or don't.

[iwishallantisaverypleasantstop]

you know, fancops have a well-documented behavioral pattern of completely shutting down sa and csa survivors who are profic and even going so far as to tell them they're lying for attention and/or they deserved their abuse. and tbh this whole mindset of "if your trauma affected you differently than me you're not valid" makes me think they would absolutely do the same to survivors who are hypersexual. and I don't mean the way that tumblr uses hypersexuality as a buzzword, I mean REALLY hypersexual. there's a reason I don't talk about my hypersexuality... really anywhere. ever. it doesn't feel safe to. if people knew what being hypersexual entailed, they'd be horrified by it.

[aq2003]

i saw a post saying boom was good bc it feels like it could be done with any doctor/companion duo and honestly that was one of the things i felt was wrong with it

[bowl-of-fruit-loops]

hey why did bill’s ex-wife move to clivesdale? literally no one from hatchetfield would do that. people die and go missing all the time and they refuse to leave. and if they do they don’t move to fucking clivesdale

[noel-levine-fan]

this line has always baffled me genuinely what is she talking about. what book

edit: anon helped me with this one, apparently this an idiom...! oops lol. see, i have heard things like "you could write a book on x, you know so much about it...!" but never "you wrote a book on x," like, in the past tense, like you actually wrote it. perhaps this is common and i just don't know about it, but either way, i'm happy my question is finally answered...

i'm afraid i do look a little silly now... but that's alright

NOOOOO GUYS STOP LIKING THIS POST ITS EMBARASSSINGGGGG (not genuine go ahead I find it funny)

[waterberry-strawmelon]

just gonna go ahead and say this in advance—

if Riz does indeed come out in junior year, and he says, “I’m ace” or “I’m asexual” when referring specifically to his lack of romantic attraction, aromantic people are allowed to be upset about it.

[kertchu]

[deimcs]

not going to lie, I think sooner or later some of you will have to come to terms with the fact that ALWAYS needing to completely relate and/or only seeing YOURSELF in the characters you read about/play as/watch in movies, can not only severely impact your critical thinking as a whole but also have very real consequences irl when you are suddenly introduced to struggles or issues you didn’t and maybe won’t ever face. suddenly your empathy is stunted 'cause you never really tried to put yourself in some else’s shoes, not even fictionally

[chamerionwrites]

Laying aside the question of folks with full-blown genderfeels just for a moment, a thing I’ve always found lowkey interesting is how much more common it seems to be for cishet dudes to choose to play women in RPGs than it is for women to choose to play dudes.

(The flip explanation is ofc that if you’re a straight man who is going to be staring at a character for many hours it might as well be a hot lady, but ime the pattern holds true in tabletop as well as CRPGs, so.)

[naivety]

very weird to frame your abuse apologia as being aware that the writers intended to illustrate a mutually harmful dynamic and not an abusive one. when the writers in question also wrote the line 'once you put it out there, they [the audience] decide what it is' because nothing you ever create has any innate definition. when the writers in question decided to racebend major characters and then showcase them being harmed by white or nonblack characters in a repeatedly racialized pattern when they Did Not Have To Do That and then genuinely or disingenuously decide to dialogue about their directly or indirectly illustrated racialized dynamic of intimate partner violence within and outside the narrative. like to be quite honest it does not matter what they intended because this is what they made and this is how it Looks to a notably large amount of people. who just happen to be interpreting it wrong? according to what metric? the very metric they say Doesn't Work in their own fictional creation? ok

[aro-culture-is]

Aro culture is not quite understanding why you're so into dating simulators when the idea of dating in real life grosses you out

.