#i am unable to function as we speak

[stevienicksgetschicks]

day entry 4: i love uma thurman

since i have trouble doing things i actually want to do im changing the “day” to entry because i suck at forcing myself to commit because i may have ADHD which im going to talk about with my doctor soon why am i exposing my medical stuff on tumblr??? nah i dont think this is exposing i think its already pretty fucking obvious that im mentally ill and so are like 80% of the people on this app. and i say that ENDEARINGLY <3 (umm maybe not too endearingly considering there are people that have like really serious problems that are not very Nice)

so now we are doing entry (insert number) instead of day (insert number) and my diaries will alllll be non-linear in time like the storytelling in Kill Bill. oh yeah i finally watched Kill Bill after all these years of hearing about it. didn’t expect to love it as much as i do now but there ya go. the power of women + badassery. im not a Film Critic™️ but watching that made me feel all the Film Critic™️ things. or at least i think i felt what i assume should be felt. god i love uma thurman though she’s a goddess. dont like the uhhh the too much Feet though. i felt like QT wanted to brainwash me into having a foot fetish. no kink shaming though but like why so much Feet. in a movie. also. i dont rly like QT he gives off … such … weird vibes. but i gotta say i love the film and the story. oh and every time i see mention of QT i think about that one time the camera man spent waaayyyyyyyyyyyy too much time on the close up shots for the cast of OUAT in Hollywood (is that the title???) and margot robbie awkwardly smiling at the camera. i wish i had been there. both to experience the very strange moment and also so i could’ve saved margot. i would have just bitten the hand of the cameraman honestly. why didn’t anyone do that? sometimes i wish biting other people was normal in society but then again we’d be dogs if that happened huh? woof

ummm so i was so overwhelmed with Noises™️ so im now alone in my room. i lied about having to do course work because im actually going to go write the walking dead fanfiction but its al for a good cause. the cause being My Sanity because it was about to explode and i did not want to snap in front of the kids. the kids, lisa! the kids!

i have to go to class tomorrow and GODDDD im so fucking tired im exhausted im lazy but i know i have to go because i already missed 3 days of class last week. good thing my car is fixed now and i finally have working a/c so i wont have to drive while also going through the dress rehearsal of how it would feel like in hell.

wish me luck.

[teine-mallaichte]

We need to expand our use of dilirium within the whump community I think.

When people see the prompt "dilirium" or "dilirious" in a whump event most jump to fever, illness, infection. And that's fine. That's valid. But there is SO MUCH MORE to dilirium.

Delirium is a complex psychological state that can indeed be triggered by illness and fever, but it can also result from a wide array of other causes. It’s a state where cognition and coherence deteriorate, where reality may start to frey at the edges leaving the whumpee confused, disorientated, maybe unable to even distinguish reality.

You can drive a character into a dilirious state without any external factors. A characters cognition and coherence can be picked to the brink by so many things.

1. Extreme Sleep Deprivation: this is a favourite of mine. A whumpee kept awake for days on end, their cognitive functions begin to deteriorate, the boundary between wakefulness and sleep blurs, leading to fractured and disjointed thought processes. The mind starts to struggle to maintain coherence, resulting in hallucinations and a profound disorientation.

2. Substance Withdrawal: Not one I've explored much, but can totally count. The body and mind in chaos, craving what they can no longer have. The physical symptoms can be brutal, but the psychological torment can drive them into a state of delirium, where reality becomes a shifting, unreliable landscape.

3. Psychological Torture: Another one I tend to gravitate to. Intense psychological manipulation, sensory deprivation or overwhelm can also drive the mind into delirium. Continuous gaslighting, isolation, or exposure to disturbing stimuli can erode a characters grasp on reality, leading to a state where they can no longer distinguish between truth and illusion.

4. Emotional Trauma: this a mental breakdown. Severe emotional trauma pushing a whumpee into a to their mental limits. The overwhelming stress and fear fracturing their mind, causing confusion, disorientation, dissociation, hallucinations as their psyche tries to protect itself and struggles to make sweetheart if what's happened/happening.

5. Overwhelming Physical Pain: Pain, just pain, if relentless and severe enough, can lead to delirium. A whumpee in constant, excruciating pain might find their mind breaking under the strain, leading to confusion, disorientation, and a detachment from reality.

6. Fever: and just because it can't really be left of the list, fever. Infections, illness, etc. But did you know there is more than one kind of dilirium? Yes there is the sick whumpee who is too weak too most and admits all their insecurities and secrets in a slurred disjointed major. But there is also the type of dilirium where the character becomes energetic, erratic behavior, pacing incessantly and speaking rapidly, refusing to rest. Frustrating and worrying for those trying to help.

And this is just the ones of the top of my head. There's so much potential here! And yes this is a very self indulgent and selfish post that I wrote while writing a fic where I am inducing dilirium in a character through acute stress and an identity crisis 😅 but in short - I want to see more varied portrayals of dilirium in whump.

An extension of this post A similar post about hallucinations A similar post about fever

[procyonloser]

Adam kicked a rock with one of his new hooves, hating how it felt against the hoof - dull, but still there. Kind of like him. A fucking cow demon. He sure as fuck didn't sign onto that shit, and he was pretty sure it was at least 95% Lucifer's fault that he looked like this. That he sounded like this, unable to speak besides...mooing.

Vaggie told him it suited him, to have lived a life only valuing what women could do for him, what women could give to him, to be turned into a cow.

Adam called her a stuck up dumb cunt with one stupid eye. It came out as a long angry moo, and she simply laughed in his face and walked away.

He had to get out of that fucking hotel as often as he could. It hurt his brain to be in there, to hear the songs, the little trust exercises, the crying, god Charlie cried so much. Adam had to get away, but Pentagram city was just as depressing as the rest of Hell. Violent criminals, weird sex shit, badly spelled billboards advertising hired assassins. Gross, Adam thought to himself, hopping over a puddle of... He didn't want to think about it too hard.

"Hey big boy, you want to be branded?" A demon leered at him, leaning against a car on the sidewalk. There was another demon inside it that blinked multiple eyes up at Adam, raking down his body. Adam was not into it, this wasn't adoring fans in Heaven talking about how awesome he was.

He felt like, well, a piece of meat.

"Hey, come on, I think you'd look great with a nose ring, maybe a little bell collar." The demon laughed, pushing away from the car and following Adam along the sidewalk. Adam's tail flicked him, trying to keep him away, his powers were mostly gone now, he had typical sinner strength, and he didn't want to get into a fight only being able to say moo.

"Excuse you, sir!" A voice boomed with pomp and circumstance, descending from on high. Lucifer floated down from the sky above, angelic wings flapping lightly as he landed, hands on his hips like a wanna be Superman.

"This cow, I mean sinner, is my friend Adam! I will not allow you to speak to him in such a manner." Lucifer said, and Adam wanted to throw him off of a window. Where was any of this care in the last fucking ten thousand years?

"... Who the shit are you?" The demon asked, blinking repeatedly. "Some weirdo with an angel kink?"

"No!" Lucifer snarled, eyes briefly turning gold before he smiled politely. "I am Lucifer Morningstar, your King."

The demon looked unimpressed. "Sure you are, anyway, I was just telling your cow he'd look better with a piercing, maybe a brand of my name on his fat ass. Or maybe, nipple rings, yeah? That'd be hot."

Lucifer's horns began to push out of his skull, and Adam looked curiously between him and the demon. He'd actually enjoy seeing Lucifer rip him to shreds.

"How dare you speak about him in such a way, do you not know to whom you are addressing - Adam, the son of Earth, the first man, you vile- wait did you say nipple rings?" Lucifers tone shifted from one that rocked the very ground itself to curiosity. Lucifer swiveled to stare at Adam, gaze stopping directly on his chest. "Mm... Hmm..."

Adam blinked, looking at the demon, who was also confused.

"Moo!" Adam huffed, stomping his hoof. Lucifer snapped out of it and obliterated the catcalling demon into dust with a snap, before blinking and wincing.

"Oopsiedoopsie, I told Charlie I wouldn't do that anymore. Uh, he'll reform I think. It's fine. Anyway, you want to go home? I was just out, flying to the store. I think we need some....milk...." Lucifers brain seemed to stop functioning again as he stared at Adam again.

".....Moo?!" Adam yelled.

This truly was hell.

[heartfullofleeches]

Ok, but can we talk about Erin with a darling who's just sweet as pie to him? Just, every threat or insult is met with kind words and love and our boi is conflicted. On one hand, he knows they love him, on the other, please just fucking step on him he's this close to begging for it

Imagine him opening up to them and off-handedly making a self-deprecating joke when he hears a snap. The pencil in his darling's hand is crushed and the hand that once held it is now wrapped around his throat "If I hear any more of that talk about my wonderful boyfriend I might just have to beat some sense into you"

is this anything? Fuck if I know, but it was in my head and now it's in yours!

[Male Yan Bully + G.N Reader] (warnings: choking, masochism)

Erin knew he wasn't the greatest guy around.

Petty theft, belittling and fighting with his peers, and his tendency to fly off the handle for the smallest issue already gave him a poor rep with locals. Things only got worse when you came into the picture. Everything about you was the polar opposite to himself. When he insulted you upon first meeting you asked if he was feeling well. When he finally came to accept his feelings and told you the two of you were dating without any previous attempts to win you over, you just smiled and asked him where to meet him for lunch.

Threats towards yourself and others where brushed off with a laugh. They toned down once you began dating, but Erin couldn't help but press you at times out of sheer confusion that you actually seemed to be enjoying time spent with him. It's not let you had many others with him harassing anyone who gets too close, but you never complained- even liking the silence. You patched him up after every scuffle and didn't ask how the began or ended. He doesn't understand you at all, but finds it hard to function without you. He can't wrap his head around it.

"Why do you like me?"

Heart printed bandage in hand, your passive expression scrunches with worry over your boyfriend's words. You place it over his blistered knuckles. "What are you going about now, Rin? I don't just like you and you know that."

Erin chews his lips, shying away from your concerned scare. "Yea, I know, but it just makes even less since if you ask me. It's pretty common knowledge that I'm not exactly a model citizen. For Christ's sake I've been hard on you before and still am. I can't control these things about me and when I see you around other people I just.... You're probably better off with someone else.

"Soooo.. what I'm hearing is you're saying I'm not good at choosing partners?"

"Ugh- this isn't about you, Y/n. I'm trying to be serious for once. Hrk!- "

Spit and a choked string of obscenities fall from Erin's lips as a hand clasps firm around his throat. Your nails stab his beating flesh as his pulse increases. He struggles for a word, but is unable to form his lips to speak as he gasps

"Oh yes it is. If my boyfriend is doubting his position I'm obviously not doing something right. I thought loved me too Rin."

His eyes shoot to the protruding veins of your wrist as your fingers lock in place, pressing down on his trachea. He blinks away tears - broken by you even thinking you're part of the problem. You snap your fingers to regain his fleeting attention.

"Hey!- Eyes up here. It's true you could use some temper adjustments, and you think with your fist but you have a good head on your shoulders and such a big heart. I've seen it when you knocked on every door in my neighborhood because I was out sick and you forgot my address. I've felt it everytime you've kissed and held me. You're my boyfriend, Rinny. Don't make me knock some sense into you - got it?"

Erin dips his head to signal a nod. He longs to take your words to heart, but it's easier said than done with you fulfilling a fantasy he wouldn't confess to even on his death bed. He dreamt about what it would be like to have such caring hands be the cause of his destruction. He couldn't pry himself out of your grip even if he wanted to. It was better than anything this fucked mind could make up.

"Rinny~ I need words. You're gonna make me cry if you keep bullying me like this."

His heart jumps at the playful nickname. " 'm yours....promise... all yours."

Your smile returns - pressed to his cheek as you kiss his skin. "Good. Now that that's over, want some help with that?"

Erin holds his knees together, pulling his jacket over his crotch. "Shut it."

[the-fiction-witch]

My Turn

Media The Artful Dodger

Character Jack Dawkins

Couple Jack X Reader

Rating SMUT!

I woke as I often seem to find myself these days, my body laid in the cotton nightie I had worn to bid my mother and father goodnight, I'm honestly a little surprised it was still on me. I was warm and cosy, with a sweet cotton sheet over me, the mattress I laid on firm and functional with a metal bed frame which wasn't the best thing for secrecy as it tended to whine and squeak with every movement in the bed but I get this feeling in my stomach that was somewhat intentional. I laid on my back having turned there in my half awake state as I tended to sleep on my side or even my stomach sometimes, with a strong but slender arm draped over my waist, another I wasn't sure where, his warm body filled the other half of the single bed keeping things toasty and cozy for me, his grip lazier then it began from the tossing and turning and general relaxedness of sleep, I couldn't help but smile to realize I had woken up here again instead of my bed at home.

It may not creak, it may be double the size and may have more blankets then a girl will ever need but it doesn't have Jack. And this one does. Which makes me feel so very happy indeed. 

I began to stir more which seemed to have aroused him too as he began to stir with me until we found each other at the tip of the others nose 

“Good morning” I whispered

“morning, you don't have to whisper you know” he yawned 

“Walls have ears jack.”

“Do they know?” He chuckled “humm I think if these walls could listen, and of course then talk about what they listened, they might have some very interesting stories to tell” he smirked taking my hand intertwined our fingers together and peppering kisses on the top of my hand 

“I don't think those stories would be appropriate for children.” I giggled

“Absolutely not.” He smirked “I think many infact would fine some of them … highly deplorable” 

“Well your a deplorable boy” I giggled 

“Am I now?” He smirked “I'm sure the walls would have a good pile of stories that, if anyone was to hear about such a… innocent young lady, I'm sure they'd find you even more deplorable.” 

“I'm sure of it. Utterly despicable behavior” 

“Humm you're my despicable little darling aren't you?” He smirked finally connecting our lips immediately I tugged on his neck to pull him even closer as his arms wrapped tightly around me leaving me utterly in his grasp and rather unable to escape even if I wanted too, but I couldn't imagine a reason to want to, till he moved down to kiss my jaw, and then down my neck 

“I don't feel my actions would even reach the top twenty of the sortas of deplorable things these walls would speak of” 

“Don't you? Need I remind you, what my little angel was doing to me last night? Or will the meer suggestion of bouncing, bed creaking and … silk scarfs enough to jog your memory?” He smirked stroking his fingers across what little exposed skin I had in this nightie

“I'd hardly call that deplorable?”

“I don't know, a pretty little young lady creeping into a doctor's bedroom, for her to tie his hands to the bed with a silk scarf, strip naked and ride him like your personal  stallion. I don't know if I'd call it deplorable persay”

“What would you call it then?’ I giggled playing with his hair 

“Umm sexy as fuck -” he growled pulling me back to our kiss each kiss now getting more and more intense

“Humm I suppose you could call it that, but then if thats sexy as fuck, then what would we call a certain doctor who brought a young lady into his bed and kept her ankles above his shoulders for an hour and a half”

“i'd call it, a pretty tame Tuesday night” he growled stroking my cheek and kissing me intensely

“I need to go jack, I don't we could get in trouble.”

“We could, in so much trouble.” He growled pulling me back to a kiss and picking up my thigh to wrap it around his hip “tell me you don't want me, and I'll let you go” he smirked pushing up my nightie to stroke my bare leg 

“You know I can't do that” 

“Humm” he smirked “tell me you don't need me, and I'll let you slink on back to that big bed of yours.”

“That's not fair”

“Why not?”

“Because you know I can't” 

“No shame playing a game you know you win” he smirked moving his hand higher and higher “umm you had to wear that nightie didn't you? You know what it does to me darling, seeing you all… buttoned up and hidden away knowing what's under it. Knowing this big tent of a nightie hides the body that makes me cum” he whispered between his harsh kisses down my jaw and neck nibbling with his teeth a little as he tugged at me nightie which was enough for the top of it to get pulled down opening up where the buttons where undone and sitting just off my shoulders “ummm don't tease me” he growled kissing down my neck and now across my exposed chest gently moaning as he did until his hand found the tie of my nightie that would let it drop “there it is.” He gasped 

“No. I need to get back remember’ I told him stopping him from tugging at it 

“I don't recall this conversation” he lied

“Jack I want to stay you know I do but my parents come to look for me and I'm not there all hell will break loose” 

“I know, but…”

“But?”

“You can't just, leave me like this.” He whined “you wound me up so tight last night, you have to let me go, or I might snap” 

“Snap?”

“Humm like last time” he smirked 

“You became some evil little creature” I giggled

“You came here and sucked my dick almost to completion every day for two weeks straight. I'm surprised I didn't crack sooner! You wound me up far to tight darling, I had to let it out somehow.” He smirked “not my fault you wore that little blue dress, you know how good it m akes your … ummmmm” he growled staring at my breasts “and an hour long carriage ride with those things bouncing up and down in that little blue dress, how was I meant to do anything other then what I did”

“Pulling us over and making us two hours late arriving and I lacked a dress”

“You got a new dress didn't you?”

“After my first was torn utterly to shreds” 

“I can't help that you wind me up so much” he smirked his hand moving up to grab my ass “ummm fuck-”

“Jack I have to go, five minutes then I really need to go”

“Five minutes?’ he smirked “one can do an awful lot in five minutes”

“Can you?”

“You know I can” he growled “fine. Five minutes. Which would you rather? Repeating the deplorable conduct of last night, or something quick and loud?”

‘quick”

“Perfect’ he smirked slapping my ass before he pulled me into a heavy kiss till he pulled back ‘you know how this works, be nice and loud for me darling pompous twats in the office today”

“And we're right above him”

‘oh yes we are, so nice and loud for me give him something to be pouty in surgery later” he winked moving down kissing down mt nightie till he met my hips where he quickly grabbed my thighs and forced them apart, he didn't waste a second kissing my inner thigh until he my clit, which he clamped on to and sucked only breaking to kiss and lick leaving me an utter moaning mess gripping the pillow tightly I didn't hold back letting my moans and squeals fall from my lips reacting to his every tongue flick 

“Uhhhhh! Jack please -” I gasped knowing how close I was and already knowing five minutes was out the window I couldn't make him stop not now and even if I asked I doubt he would 

“What's the matter darling? This not despicable enough for you?” He growled before slipping his fingers inside me as he ate me out causing my thighs to clamp on his head and my hand to grab his hair tugging on his hair like crazy 

“Ahhhhhhhhh! Uhhh- jack- please - please!” I begged and he obliged speeding both up which was enough to tip me over “Uhhhh yes! Yes! YES! AHHHHHHH!” I squealed feeling pleasured wash over me he let me ride it out before he pulled back and loomed over me with an amused smile as he saw me sweaty, gasping my breasts almost popped out my nightie, the hem around my stomach, my legs still open and my juices leaking out of me onto his bed he slowly licked his fingers clean then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and then licking that up too 

“Why do you do that?’ I giggled as he got himself a drink of water from the side 

“Why would I wanna waste what tastes so good,” he smirked before he moved to sit on his knees leaning his back against the metal footboard of the bed he opened his knees wide and leant his elbows on the metal frame for the first time this morning I saw his fully naked form seeing just how hard he was “my turn” he smirked 

And I giggled moving to my knees fixing my nightie to expose more of me and crawling over to him 

[invisiblerambler]

I am Prepared to be Wrong (Kind of)

I completely understand any criticisms that Syd's continued lack of presence in this season is frustrating, but I think there's a specific character motivation for that being true.

Sydney as a character struggles with emotional intimacy and emotional honesty, but in a different way than Carm. They are both incredibly high-functioning in that they had to put a lot to the side in a lot of situations in order to continue on with what they wanted to accomplish.

But both because of the way his trauma manifested and was experienced Carm leads with something he thinks is emotional honesty, but really it's him just recreating the type of unproductive conflict he saw growing up.

And it's notable he never speaks in those situations. With the people he cares about most, he can't reach emotional honesty in the same way Sugar or even frankly Richie can.

Which brings me back to Syd. I think Carmy while being unable to have that for himself recognizes that Syd needs that emotional honesty and it is frustrating for him that she holds him at arm's length.

I think a big part of the reason we didn't get more of her interiority this season is because her as a character isn't ready for that level of emotional intimacy. Everyone else who has gotten an episode Forks, Napkins, Ice Chips, and Honeydew all of those characters at the point where we get those episodes are ready for us to see into their inner worlds that deeply. Even Tomorrow like we have seen Carmy at his absolute lowest in the freezer so why not peel back all the layers of trauma and training that led up to that.

So many times in especially S2 and S3 we do not get glimpses into how much Syd is suffering until the point where she can't hide it from herself.

Her not being able to handle expo on FNF, her throwing up afterwards, the conversation with her dad about not being able to handle another failure, her panic attack. None of those moments of vulnerability were by choice they were by necessity. Every time there is a moment of emotional intimacy with her and Carmy he leads with his own vulnerability.

I think the panic attack was/is a turning point where she realizes that the only way forward is emotional intimacy, vulnerability and honesty.

[radiance1]

"There is two of you."

Logos leaned back in his seat, resting his head against his fist as he stared at a screen displaying Pathos, currently being buried beneath a mass of different ghostly animals. "That there is."

Distain crossed Damian's face. "Who in their right mind would ever clone the likes of you, brother?" He waved a hand at the screen, a small flash of envy that crossed his heart over seeing the clone buried beneath a mass of fluff, before blinking, and jerking his head and Daniel's direction. "Full offense."

"None taken." Logos's voice was cold and emotionless, containing a more mechanical edge due to the voice changer installed in his gas mask. "Pathos is not my clone, he is half of me." Logos raised his other hand before Damian could speak. "We were torn apart, in case you were wondering."

Damian hummed, moving his eyes away from the screen and around the lab. Giving a begrudging nod at the extreme cleanliness, and eyeing a few of the tech left around, before turning back to his twin with a raised eyebrow. "I can't imagine the reason you called me here was for a mere chat."

Logos nodded. "Pathos wishes to become a hero, yet I have a different goal." Logos stood up from his chair, walking over to Danny until he was relatively close and held out a hand. "Such that I am unable to watch over him at every turn, so, dear brother. Will you look over him in my stead?"

Damian stared at the outstretched hand, before back at Daniel's gas mask covered face. His face was calm as he stared back at his twin, before clicking his tongue. "Tt. As pathetic as always. Such incompetence that you need others to clean up whatever mess your other half will surely bring." Damian crossed his arms, glaring at his twin.

"I will not be that person, Daniel."

Logos hummed. "The probability of you saying no was quite high, so I am not surprised." He walked past Damian, beckoning his twin with a hand to follow as he stopped at a nearby table, quickly gathering a few items he sought after. "These are the objects that will 'sweeten the deal' as some would say."

Said objects looked to be a few buttons, a ball, a laser pointer, and an arm bracer.

"And you expect me to accept to watch over your other half, for mere trinkets?" Damian wrinkled his nose, as he stared at Daniel as if he were an idiot, which he very surely believes he is. "I expected you to be smarter than that, but I am not surprised by your usual incompetence."

Logos shook his head. "These are not mere trinkets, brother, and I know you recognize that as well. These," Danny picked up the few small buttons, tossing them at Damian, who easily caught them. "Will are capable of expanding into ectoplasmic nets, that will also deliver a shock to those who try to get out of them, nothing lethal, so worry not about your father having an issue with them."

Damian hummed, holding one of the buttons up to his eye. Logos waved to a nearby target that he set up for this exact circumstance. "Go ahead, try it."

Damian glanced at his twin, before throwing the button at the target. It expanded into a large net that shouldn't have been able to be held in such a small object, wrapping around the target.

"Unfortunately, you will be unable to test the shock function at this moment, so you will have to test it later on a live subject."

"Tt."

Logos tilted his head. "You seem displeased."

"That you are capable? Yes. I am."

Logos hummed, before taking up the ball. "That is a mechanical eye, you be able to see through it, which would certainly make it easier for you who stalks the night, yes?" Damian clicked his tongue, and Logos took that as enough to continue. "You will be able to look through it with these," He picked up the arm bracer in his other hand and handed both items to Damian. "The bracer connects to the eye, which will show you a live recording of what is happening on the other side." Logos turned to pick up the laser pointer, before blinking. "Ah, just will it to move, and it will. So long as you have the bracer on."

Damian stared at the bracer for a moment, before swiftly putting it on, and the mechanical eye sprang to life as soon as he finished. A screen appeared over his arm, giving him a direct look through the eye's position. He tested the movement and found it true.

"Being torn apart may have been the best thing that has happened to you, brother."

"Perhaps." Logos threw the laser pointer at Damian, which he caught. "That is a small, portable laser, while also acting as a regular laser pointer. Just twist the knob at the bottom and you'll be able to adjust it." Logos' eyes narrowed. "Do not test it in here, or anywhere near here, for that matter."

Damian pocketed it silently, before recrossing his arms. He grunted.

"Pathos will be happy to receive your cooperation, though he is quite emotional, I expect you to work around that." Logos held out a hand, and Damian stared at it for a good few moments, before begrudgingly putting his hand in his twin's for a handshake.

Damian had a foreboding feeling that he would regret ever accepting this deal, and not even a minute after meeting him he already did.

[Based off of this post, and thank you @ashfly for the name suggestions! :3]

[alpaca-clouds]

Why I oppose punitive justice

Time for another anarchist talking point. I actually do not believe in punitive justice. I do not believe in locking people up in jail or making them pay fines as punishment (though asking them to pay for something they broke is alright). And I do even less believe in violence as a form of punishment. Moreover I do believe that the idea of punishment is rooted in a deeply flawed perception of why crimes get commited, as well as a deeply flawed idea of what justice is.

Let me explain.

I will say it again: I actually do believe that humans are in general decent creatures who have evolved to function well in groups. As such it is for the most part not our nature to commit crimes - outside of things were the crime actually is something that should not be illegal in the first place.

Most crimes, that do get committed, have one of the following causes:

It is a crime arrising from a situation committed spontanously without much prior thought.

It is a crime committed out of a desperate situation with the "criminal" not seeing any other way out.

It is a crime committed by someone in a psychologically bad place.

It is a crime committed by a true believer who believed himself to act justly.

One of the first ideas of punitive justice is that it somehow deters people from committing crimes, because they will think to themselves: "I do not want to be punished." But this just ignores the actual reasoning behind those crimes.

Someone who commits crime spontanously (which is a lot of violent crime, actually - most violent crime is not committed by someone who has gone somewhere with a plan to commit violence, but rather arises out of people unable to deal with emotions) does not think about the consequences in the moment.

Someone in a desperate situation often just does not see themselves having a choice. Examples of this can both be that person killing an abusive partner or parent, or the person stealing bread from a supermarket, because they are otherwise going to starve.

Someone who commits crimes because they are psychologically in a bad place (by which I do not even mean the serial killers, though some of them surely also fall under this umbrella - rather I am speaking of people who are prone to violence, have habbits or are forced into crime through addiction and the like) often will not consider possible outcomes either.

And the last kind of person usually tends to believe they are in their right to do whatever. This might be those abusing partners, as well as a ton of people committing hate crimes.

So, yeah... Punishment does not deter people from crimes. We even do have statistics on this showing that often enough in the places with the most harsh punishments there are more crimes getting committed than in the places with softer punishment.

Now, when it comes to the entire idea of justice... Two wrongs do not make a right. Punishing someone does not make the crime undone. Especially given that the punishment often lasts much longer than whatever the actual sentence is, due to societal prejudice against anyone who might have been imprisoned once.

Don't get me wrong: I do think there are some cases where people might need to be somewhere under lockdown, because otherwise they will not stop dealing in violence. The "true believers" often belong under this category. And some people in psychological emergencies, too.

But they should be kept secure for that reason: Security. Not to punish them for their crimes.

Punishment does not make a society safer. At best it satisfies some vengeful lustings of a society. And if we do not (and we cannot) satisfy an individuals lusting for revenge... We should also not do that on a society wide scale. Rather we should focus on making the world safer for everyone.

[mswyrr]

"In this moment, we have two months before the ship sinks lower and rather than wallowing in fear or operating from fear, I believe it is a time to get grounded, recalibrate for our coming reality, and to start planning. We have enough concepts of their plans to know that it’s probably a good time to draw closer to our communities in our geographic regions. If you don’t have one, it’s time to see how to become a part of one. It’s time to start moving away from social media because if even a fraction of what has been promised comes to fruition, a lot of us online will need to reduce our visibility.

As of right now, I am not planning to stop what I am doing but for my safety, I will be moving more of my work to Patreon and shifting how I post on these platforms. Given that I have been written about in publications and written for publications, I can’t exactly distance myself away from my work. But if you are a civilian, so to speak, it might be a great time to scrub your profiles and go low.

Start thinking about how you might live if money gets tight, reducing expenses, saving if possible. These aren’t bad ideas.

Ultimately though, don’t stop living. Instead, embrace life; embrace your people. In the days since the election, I have gathered with friends to break bread, had numerous long phone calls, and even Zoomed with my sisterhood of Black women. All of which calmed me down and got me back to reality. In this moment, I am okay, I don’t know what’s ahead but if I spend all this moment worrying about what might happen, I am not being present and, frankly, I am missing out on living. If the worst comes to fruition, I suspect I would regret spending our last days of relative peace worrying incessantly, when none of those worries can do anything.

Personally, I think self-care at this moment is reducing your time online. Fear is big business. The number of writers and creators I follow who are feeding us a steady diet of Big Fear has grown and the line between information and preparation and straight-up fear mongering has become extremely thin. Yes, there are historical markers that provide clues as to how this might all go down and being aware of them is useful but consuming them to the point where we are unable to function and plan is not helpful."

[aranarumei]

What do we thing of the few and far between Niibashi and Hirano interactions?

[ask me about any two ssmy charas and i'll give my thoughts on their dynamic, real or imagined]

he’s so relatable. If I knew my friend was crushing on someone I’d already feel weird meeting them. if I knew the extent of the wildness of hirano to kagiura I would be unable to function normally. niibashi’s a trooper.

so basically I think he’s overly conscious of hirano! which is kind of neat because he usually seems like a guy who’s like. blunt and self-assured and cool. it’s hard for him bc kagiura talks about hirano SO MUCH, so he’s got this whole perception of a guy that he doesn’t know, and he’s aware its colored in some sense, but he also doesn’t know exactly what hirano’s truth is. and that’s confusing for him because I think he’s got a sense of responsibility of like. I must not let kagi get caught up in daydreams. 1) he’ll get hurt and 2) they’re roommates and that could get so badly complicated, so let’s make sure hirano’s comfortable. but a lot of that second point is also motivated by like. kagiura likes him SO MUCH, I’ve got to treat him well. a biased self-interest towards wanting kagi to be. successful / happy etc. what a wonderful friend he is.

but because of this Awareness, there’s also a sense of embarrassment and avoidance. it’s almost like. if I met a celebrity I’d talked about I’d get so embarrassed like. HELLO. You’re not supposed to know me!!! let me analyze your thing in peace. I’m not for you to look at. You see this when niibashi jolts at hirano’s presence and then gets the hell out of there after giving him the sewing kit—he’s cheering on kagiura, but also he doesn’t want to touch that with a ten foot pole bc it feels weird to intrude on their space? third-wheeling is awkward. I mean u see this in ch 24 when kagiura runs off and niibashis like DON’T LEAVE ME HERE??? in his head and then hirano also steps out and he’s like what the fuck do I do. I’m not gonna start up conversation w/ whoever this guy (sasaki) is. and then he just heads to the gym. speaking of, there’s a bit there where he sees hirano scolding sasaki and is like. THIS is the “super kind” hirano-san? guy was probably envisioning a blond angel at first so I think that adjustment to reality is messing with him.  

so if they interacted For Real, I think at first it would be hard and awkward bc niibashi would be put off-kilter by KAGI’S HUGE CRUSH hanging over them (basically the current state of affairs). after kagihira couple up though. I think niibashi would say something like “you guys are so annoying” and then get extremely embarrassed that he did that in front of hirano. bc its normal to nag at kagiura like that but not so normal to do that with a senpai. he’d be the type of guy who’d wanna be careful around hirano and then get embarrassed if he was naturally harsh or blunt in the kind way he is. and that wanting to be careful makes him unsettled. probably with enough time he would get comfortable, but I don’t think he & hirano have like… similar interests or demeanors, so I don’t really think anything like “oh my boyfriend is better friends w/ my friend than I am” would happen? still, at the end of the day they’re both thoughtful people who love kagiura. they’ll do fine.

[azrielgreen]

i apologize if you don't want this brought up again, but god I'm so glad to find someone who thinks the whole "problematic stuff shouldn't be written/drawn" thing is bullshit.

It's so rare nowadays to come across someone with common sense with fiction, I can't avoid all the puritans and their "this ship is illegal" and "I hope you get better coping mechanisms praying for your recovery <3" it's absolutely horrifying. Also the implication that mentally ill people are ONLY doing this "problematic stuff" and the "regular normal people" are participating in fandom "normally" seems ableist and very demeaning.. therapists say we can do whatever functionally even if you're not suffering from anything

Speaking of therapists, even therapists arent safe, I remember a therapist on Tumblr saying like "no guys it's actually chill calm down" and they got harassed off of Tumblr?????

What has the world come to it feels like we live in a post apocalypse

Hi, I'm so sorry this took forever to respond to. I really wanted to wait until I had the time to answer best and fully because this is a really important message to me. Firstly thank you so much for your kindness. I am openly proshipper (especially because proshipper means SHIP WHATEVER YOU WANT) and have absolutely no interest in the sad little storms of discourse that some people are obsessed with creating to generate a sense of control over other people's existence within a space that's too vast, unregulated and visible and also to feel as though they're "fighting the good fight". I don't engage in the absolute bullshit I see online because it's not remotely worth my time but I will always make clear my stance on writing whatever you want involving fictional characters in fictional scenarios that hurt absolutely no one, that are fully tagged and CWd.

Literary comprehension is at rock bottom, fanfiction was never meant to go mainstream, and fandom was never meant to operate on a social media site. There seems to be a gap of understanding, whereby many have lost the ability to unravel complex themes and comprehend the elements involved. Fictional depiction does not equal real life endorsement. If that were the case, Mads Mikkelson would be locked up. There is wilful bad faith in the cannibalistic "anti" community. People so wholly unable to share their blorbos and accept that other people like what they like in a different way.

It is disheartening but there are so many people who CAN tell fiction from reality, so that always cheers me up.

🖤🖤🖤

[skittlespizza]

Ram from Re:Zero has to be one of my favorite portrayals of disability, I haven't gotten to Arc 6 but my friend showed me the part where it's displayed what Ram feels all the time and holy shit. Do I feel that.

Apparently a lot of people don't even realize Ram is a diaabled character, looking it up online leads to very very little about her as disabled rep. So I'll say it here. Ram is an amputee (her horn) who has Chronic Pain & Chronic Fatigue. She is disabled.

As someone who has such dehabiltating chronic pain, I have to use mobility aids almost every single day, Ram literally displays a condition like that in spades. This might be a bit of a nonsensical 3-AM type ramble but she's on my mind.

I tend to lose patience quicker than other people because of my body aching all the time and Ram, being the sassy, kinda bitchy asshole really fits this feeling as a disabled person. When you're in constant pain of course you're grouchy and it's a lot easier to let out that grouchiness in a playful way. I don't know if this was purposeful but either way it really really works. We need more mean disabled characters tbh.

Next is her being "useless." Subaru makes fun of her for not doing anything, and she takes the teasing in good fun. However, if/when Subaru takes it too far, the people who care about her are willing to stand up for her. Ram is disabled, she has little to no energy, she literally can't clean because it's exhausting and tiring and painful. I can relate to that as well, hell, I go to a special school because I am too tired and in too much pain to do normal amounts of schoolwork. So Ram being unable to do things like clean and cook, but still being valued speaks so much to disabled people who can't function alone!

Ram needing treatment every night... god. Having to take medication every single day as a disabled person is exhausting and forgetting to take it just once completely dehabilitates you. Ram needing treatment every night is literally the equivalent to magical daily medication.

Ram also using her wand as a mobility aid... that's not even a metaphor or allegory.

Yet despite all her shortcomings, her disability, she's loved and appreciated for the things she can do. She's respected and cared for and no one really looks down on her for being unable to do magic or simple tasks. (In the Movie, she even sleeps in and is affected by the cold more than anyone else. I don't know if this was on purpose, but that's also a thing people with chronic pain/fatigue deal with...) She's intelligent, loyal, clever, witty, bitchy but in a likeable way, and most of all. She's appreciated for her steamed potatoes.

Anyways this was my ted talk. Do you all realize Ram as the disabled rep she is...

[eriexplosion]

Here's How Shrimp Trooper Theory Can Still Win

This is as fringe as it gets folks.

I've done my very serious Tech lives essay now it's time for my actual wild theory. Plus @katara-stan-club wanted the shrimp trooper essay and I will take any opportunity to yammer. Please don't take this extremely seriously as it is just something that I'm spinning up for entertainment and is almost certainly not true. (Unless!)

So the opening to Confined is... Odd to me. I've mentioned this in a post before but just to recap, it is definitely the odd man out of the three season starters.

Season one of course we intro with Caleb, who then leads us directly to meet the batch and get our first character appearances, along with convenient introductions. A fun, action packed little scene before things immediately go to hell.

Season two we intro with the batch in the middle of a job, which gives us another fun action scene that shows us how much Omega has grown, as well as the current status of the batch itself.

Season three though? Season three starts us off with a ship going down in a lightning storm and all the stormtroopers inside assumed to be eaten by the giant monsters that lurk in Tantiss' jungles. (Going by Omega's tally marks later in the episode, we're about 20 days post plan 99.) Nothing to do with the batch at all, though we do get a glance at what's in the jungle, and a tiny bit more of Hemlock being a bastard of course.

Now, seemingly, this scene is the set up for episode three, when they make their escape and head for the downed ship.

Except it's completely unnecessary. When they get to the ship, it turns on but it's incapable of flight and the comms are still down and non functioning. The ship they end up taking and using to escape is the ship that came in pursuit of them. The plot would have gone down exactly the same if they had just picked a direction and fled without the downed ship. It's a complete red herring for how they ultimately end up escaping.

So why is it important enough to open the season on if the ship essentially functions as nothing more than a destination point?

Enter Shrimp Trooper Theory.

Going back to the stormtroopers. We have four of them inside the ship, the pilot and three others. We're going to be focusing on our boy on the far right of the second picture.

The pilot speaks before the ship goes down so we can confirm he's a rando. Our fellow in the middle speaks next, identifying himself as TK-343, another rando. The one on the far left talks about wild beasts proving himself, you guessed it, a third rando. But our boy on the far right doesn't talk at all through this whole scene, leaving his identity up in the air.

So we'll take a closer look at him and brighten the scene up a bit.

Now, seeing this guy hobble his way out of the ship, I thought that he looked somewhat familiar. Specifically.

That shitty ass posture. (Forgive the sloppiness of the edit I did this comparison once before and I am not remaking it)

We do not actually see the troopers all get eaten, we cut to the interior of Tantiss before it happens. Theoretically there is nothing stopping this shrimp shaped man from being Tech.

The timeline of shrimp trooper theory:

Tech falls from the rail car and manages to survive the landing but he's severely injured. He crawls away/gets scraped off the ground by Saw.

Roughly 3 weeks pass in which he is recovering and healing yet unable to comm out as, per episode 4 of season 3, Imperial planets monitor long range communications. But, he is able to gather information from the flights going in and out of Eriadu to determine which ones are being assigned to Hemlock's secretive lab. Once he is able to confirm this, he steals some stormtrooper armor and boards.

Ship goes down because gravity hates him in particular and he is almost eaten by a Beast.

Now stranded in the jungle on Tantiss, Tech finds his infiltration plan foiled by the fact that he is being continually hounded by even more Beasts.

Several months later, Batcher is released and for some reason goes straight for the wrecked ship. Somehow she survives out here, but we're not sure how - potentially she had help?

Tech IS the mystery clone X that we see but rather than being brainwashed he has finally managed to get inside Tantiss and yet again begins to Steal Clothing from others.

Crosshair and Omega immediately break out without him leaving him stranded in Tantiss where he presumably still is, attempting to avoid detection and continue to gather information that will aid in the eventual liberation of the other clones.

Is this unlikely? Yes! Is it overly complicated? Absolutely! Am I endlessly entertained by it anyway? You bet!

Benefits of Shrimp Trooper Theory include, but are not limited to:

A living, non brainwashed Tech! The most important feature one could have!

An extremely ridiculous Only In Star Wars series of events!

Retroactive explanation for why the ship going down was an important scene to start on.

Hemlock ruining his own life by not sending someone out to recover the team and just assuming they'd totally be taken care of by the wildlife.

More giant monsters than Wrecker could shake a stick at.

The possibility of Tech and Batcher offscreen shenanigans.

Tech thinking he's finally found Crosshair and making plans to retrieve him when, SURPRISE, OMEGA'S HERE TOO AND THEY'RE ESCAPING. RIGHT NOW.

Seriously just imagine the epic sigh Tech would let out as they flew away completely unaware of his presence. His life is a series of difficulties.

He can simply turn up with the coordinates to Tantiss because god knows how else they're going to manage to get them.

This is my conspiracy theory that I'm allowing myself to believe in as a treat. It will almost certainly not be what occurs but the thought of it makes me happy.

[hollowed-theory-hall]

how would the ministry know that there ISN'T a bunch of wizardsandwitches that messed up, did magic in front of muggles, and were too scared to report it? Or just tormenting the muggles/ doing subtle crime?

Also if the Trace is loosely location-based (dobby in cos being mistaken for harry) can't pureblood and half blood children do whatever and it's assumed it's their parents?

Bingo, you got it in one.

The Ministry of Magic sucks. It is not an effective government. Honestly, I see it as a barely functional half-oligarchy half-democracy that has been running on mostly the same blood and connections since before it was founded.

I wrote here how I believed the Trace works and why, and I think it is indeed based on location. That means that, yeah, as you said, children with magical parents could just cast magic as they wished and the ministry would assume the parent cast the spell. The books practically say that children in wizard families don't have the trace on them (they do, everyone does, the Trace is on the entirety of the jurisdiction of the ministry it just isn't effective):

“But how come the Ministry didn’t realize that Voldemort had done all that to Morfin?” Harry asked angrily. “He was underage at the time, wasn’t he? I thought they could detect underage magic!” “You are quite right — they can detect magic, but not the perpetrator: You will remember that you were blamed by the Ministry for the Hover Charm that was, in fact, cast by —” “Dobby,” growled Harry; this injustice still rankled. “So if you’re underage and you do magic inside an adult witch or wizard’s house, the Ministry won’t know?” “They will certainly be unable to tell who performed the magic,” said Dumbledore, smiling slightly at the look of great indignation on Harry’s face. “They rely on witch and wizard parents to enforce their offspring’s obedience while within their walls.”

(HBP, 368)

This flaw is built in, likely because the magic that the Trace works on predates the ministry who are just using it and lost the knowledge to change how it works.

As for the first half, the ministry letter Harry receives answers that:

We have received intelligence that you performed the Patronus Charm at twenty-three minutes past nine this evening in a Muggle-inhabited area and in the presence of a Muggle.

(OotP, 26)

They work according to areas. Some areas are documented as "muggle" and magic in these places is investigated as it is assumed to have happened in front of muggles (regardless of the fact Dudley was aware of magic and therefore didn't count, they can't really tell who was there, just what spell was cast and where). Any spell cast in a "wizard" area, would be assumed to be an adult wizard, hence why children in magical families could get away with underage magic.

“Then you can hardly complain that you get no warning of visitors,” said Ogden tartly. “I am here following a serious breach of Wizarding law, which occurred here in the early hours of this morning —” [...] “Well, Mr. Gaunt,” said Ogden, “to get straight to the point, we have reason to believe that your son, Morfin, performed magic in front of a Muggle late last night.”

(HBP, 204, 206)

Bob Ogden when he goes to speak with the Gaunts seems to have operated under similar assumptions. The Trace registered a spell in a muggle-inhabited area. The only wizards in the area are the Gaunts and they likely sent someone to investigate the muggles to know who it was or assumed it was Morfin due to prior offenses.

Similarly, when Tom kills his parents and grandparents, Morfin is easily found guilty. Yes, he had a prior offense, but the spell was again, registered in a muggle area where the only known wizard around is Morfin. Considering Dumbledore succeded in finding Tom in the man's memories, it seems the ministry didn't bother with a very thorough investigation.

Basically, yeah, the Trace is very flawed, and so is the ministry.

[meguwumibear]

small writing warm up: also a continuation of this

You do make it out of the narrow alleyway, one hair-raising, ear-splitting scratch and scrape at a time.

The man you’ve accidentally abducted seems amused by your actions. Though he’d chided you for them earlier, he failed to produce an alternative solution to dislodge the car. The damage to the driver’s side door is extensive, but judging by the man’s clothing and accessories, he can afford to replace it.

You shimmy your way out of the car, planning to disappear among the throng of people that have gathered around to shop and eat and chat and fuck. This street is always packed with people this time of night. It’s why you chose it. There’s nothing you like more than a crowd large enough to be anonymous in.

What you don’t expect is the mysterious man to follow you out of the vehicle. He doesn’t say anything at first, so you assume the two of you are just coincidentally heading the same way, however after a few blocks it becomes obvious he’s tailing you.

You bring yourself to a stop, turning to face him.

“We traveling companions now or something?” you demand.

He blinks at you, a frown tugging at his bottom lip, “I don’t know where I am or how to get home.”

And that, that simply cannot be true. The dude looks like he’s pushing thirty. Where are his street smarts? His common sense? His survival instinct?

“Not my problem. Use your GPS. Subway station’s that way,” you add, gesturing vaguely to your right.

“I don’t have one,” he says plainly. “Didn’t think I’d need it.”

You let out an exacerbated sigh and jam your fingers into your temples to stave off an impending migraine.

“I know you have a phone on you. Your goons called you like five minutes ago. There should be an app on the phone you can use as a map.”

“It’s a burner. Its only function is to send and receive calls.”

Of fucking course.

“There’s like a million street signs. Pick one and send them your address. I’m sure your white knights will be here to rescue you in no time, princess.”

The man properly pouts now, an expression unbecoming of his stature. His dopey eyes and puckering lips make him look like a kicked fucking dog. A pretty kicked dog. Like a purebred or some shit, but a kicked dog all the same.

“I don’t like to be called that,” he deadpans, “and, anyway, they can’t come get me. You stole their car.”

This dude’s as thick as they get.

“You look like you come from a family full of lush cars that sit idling in a garage somewhere. I’m sure daddy dearest can spare a second car to rescue his precious son.”

He cocks his head to the side, considering you. “You’d really leave me here? Alone? It’s your fault I’m stranded in the first place. The least you could do is see I get home safely. If you’re worried about your own, you have my word no harm will come to you.”

“Look, dude, this has been fun and all, but I’m confident you can take care of yourself so drop the wounded animal act. Of the two of us only one is packing a-”

A cool, smooth hand slaps itself over your mouth while the man uses his body weight to push your back flush against the grimy brick wall of the ramen shop you’ve stopped outside of. Your biting words die easily in your mouth as your throat dries up.

When the man speaks, it’s as calm as ever, despite his outburst, “I’d appreciate if you could keep that bit of knowledge between the two of us. Tools like that aren’t exactly legal and I’d hate to have to use it.”

Unable to form words, you nod at him, hoping he understands what the movement is meant to convey. You figure you’ve got a 50/50 shot of him interpreting the motion accurately given his communication track record thus far.

A sharp, piercing gaze holds your own for a moment longer, then his hand falls away.

“I live in Musutafu. I’m not sure how far that is from here. You seem familiar with the subway system. Lead the way.”

You suck down a steadying deep breath. There’s a part of you that’s frightened of this dangerous stranger you’ve managed to saddle yourself with. You mostly just feel pissed. You consider your options, remembering an old platitude your mother used to sigh whenever you were in a rage: better to be pissed off that pissed on.

“Hope you’ve got cash,” you acquiesce. “I’m not shelling out for your subway fare.” 

[bg-brainrot]

Halfway through the BG3 Holiday Challenge ✨

Prompt: Holiday Spirit

Featuring: Astarion x Rogue!Tav

Series: Fits into Love at First Knife, AO3 link here

Premise: You’re used to being stressed: first, life as a rogue on the streets of Baldur’s Gate, then, surviving the Absolute. What you were unprepared for was how particular holiday stress would be. In particular, how stressful hosting would be. When Astarion notices this, he aims to get you back in the holiday spirit.

Tags: POV Second Person, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Fluff, Holidays, post-canon, comfort

Word count: ~1.4k (this was supposed to be short, what happened)

Midwinter is just around the corner and you find yourself running around like a madperson– well, more mad than usual. For some gods forsaken reason, you've decided to have guests over for the holiday– you even had the unmitigated confidence to tell your lover, ‘don’t worry, I want to do this myself.’ You haven't the faintest where to start.

Astarion, the perceptive vampire that he is, notices that as the days to Midwinter countdown, your 'holiday spirit' or so you call it, seems to be dwindling. On this particular evening he watches you as he leans on the doorway to the kitchen.

You're walking in circles, apparently unable to decide where to place a decorative candle. After you put it back in the same spot for the third time, he speaks up.

"Darling, are you alright?"

You jump, not realizing that Astarion's been there this entire time. It's rare that he surprises you, so your heart begins working overtime at the sudden shock. "Oh gods, Astarion," you breathe out. "How in the hells did you sneak up on me like that?"

He chuckles lightly and pushes off the doorframe. "I'm afraid I've been watching you for at least half an hour. It's been cute, mind you, but I figured I should say something eventually."

That brings a small frown to your face. Am I losing my touch? Or is it all of this damned stress? You're about to ask when Astarion places a finger on the corner of your mouth.

“Love, what’s the matter?” he says, prodding your cheek up to form a half smile. “You seem to be in short supply of your usual winter-merriment.” You move to bite his poking finger, but he avoids it easily, adjusting his hand to cup your cheek. “Darling.”

“I guess,” you start glumly, annoyed to be trapped in his loving palm. “I am stressed about this whole Midwinter get-together we have planned.”

He brings up his other hand to cup the other side of your face. “I can see that, my sweet. But why are you so stressed? They’re just our old companions.”

“Friends,” you correct as you give him a look. He’ll get used to the word eventually, you’re sure. “And it’s not them that I’m stressed about. It’s… me.”

You feel your face squished between Astarion’s cold hands as he says, “Don’t you dare say something disparaging about yourself next, I’m warning you.”

The glare you give him is quite likely the opposite of whatever holiday cheer is. “Then why did you ask?”

“Because I thought it would be something reasonable!” he says, indignantly, shaking your head a bit. “Like that you were annoyed Gale actually accepted the invitation.”

You laugh at that despite yourself, and you see Astarion’s self-satisfied grin at your reaction. “No, I’m afraid it’s nothing like that,” you say and your laughter turns into a sigh.

“Fine, tell me. But if you’re too hard to yourself, I will spend the rest of the evening lavishing you with praise,” he warns, finally letting go of your face.

"Astarion, I don't know how to be… domestic," you say the word like it may as well be abyssal. "The only things I know how to do are kill and apparently lead a crew of barely functional adventurers. What if the whole thing is a disaster?"

"You know, for someone who seems concerned about disasters, you sure run toward them a lot, my dear," Astarion replies with a smirk.

"You aren't helping."

"Sorry, sorry, I couldn't resist," he says and moves to grab your limply hanging hand. Holding it between his, he brings it up for a kiss and continues, “Well, if it makes you feel better, I don’t think any of us are very good at being domestic– except maybe Gale, I suppose.”

You groan at that. “You’re right, we should have let him host.”

Astarion tugs on your hand now, shaking his head. “No, no, no. That’s not what that means. What that means is that this is new for all of us, so none of us have any expectations. If your version of Midwinter involves decorating with skulls and blood, so be it.”

You give a breathy laugh at that. “I think only you would like that.”

“Oh, I don’t know. I wouldn't rule Shadowheart out either,” he says, taking a step closer to you. “And if you need more brilliant ideas like that, you know I’m here to help, love.”

“But I wanted to do this on my own,” you mutter, looking down remorsefully. “To show you that the holidays can be fun, even if it doesn’t look like it right now.”

“You know there’s nothing I’d like more than for you to prove me wrong,” he begins, finally closing the distance between you and pulling you into his arms. He speaks his next words into your hair, “But I think I’d still prefer it if you were having fun again. To me, the most important part of the holiday is living vicariously through your joy.”

You blink blankly in his embrace for a moment, surprised at how easily his words fill you with relief. “Are you sure you want to help?" you ask, squeezing him to you tightly. "I won't go easy on you, there's a lot of decorating, tidying, and cooking to help with."

"When have you ever gone easy on me?" he asks with a laugh. "And you might want me to steer clear of the cooking, but otherwise, I'm all yours, love."

Pulling away from him, you give him a good, long look, verifying he means what he says. His smile is sweet, his eyes expectant, and you decide that it's alright to let this go – you really could use a second pair of hands at least. "Oh very well," you huff, though you can't resist the smile that comes to your face. "But if at any moment you feel like you’re starting to hate the holiday, you have to warn me!"

He places a hand on his chest in a vow. "You have my word. Besides, I can all but guarantee you that this will be the finest Midwinter I’ve had in 200 years."

“Astarion,” you say, feeling an ache settle in your chest at his admission.

The vampire grabs you by the shoulders and says, “Stop that. I didn’t say that to make you feel bad, I said it to inspire you. Understood?”

“Yes, love,” you say, swallowing down the emotions that threaten to overtake you.

“Good. Now tell me what you need,” he says, releasing your shoulders and gently running his hands down your arms.

You nod. "Alright. Your first task is simple: where in the hells should this candle go?" You gesture to the very same candle he'd been watching you struggle with earlier. It stands awkwardly on your kitchen table like a testament to your frustration.

Astarion looks at it for a moment and places a hand on his chin as he thinks. He walks over to the candle, picks it up, turns it a few times. Finally, he answers you with, “In the bin.”

“What?”

“In the bin, dear. We can do better.” He walks back over to you and hands you the candle, a beautiful white thing that has little snowflakes carved into the side. You wonder what could possibly be wrong with it but he’s already answering you. “I know you were probably trying to be mindful of my taste, but this candle? This isn’t you at all. Where is the red one that smells strongly of cinnamon?”

“Oh, I didn’t think you like that–”

“Nonsense,” he says, waving away your concern. ”If we’re going to host others, we’re going to make our home reflect both of us and be appropriately festive. This is why you were struggling, love. You needed someone with vision.”

You smile at him, appreciating his enthusiasm despite the snark. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say that you’re starting to enjoy the holidays yourself, Astarion.”

“Oh, darling,” he murmurs, wrapping a hand around your waist. “You know I can find enjoyment in anything involving you.” His fingers grip you a little tighter and he gives you a naughty grin.

You raise an eyebrow at him suggestively and say, “That’s good, because I plan on keeping you busy all night. Let’s start with picking some placemats.”

Tossing the candle into a pile of decorations, Astarion and you get to work, setting up the home you’ve built together for the allies you now call friends.