#i don't think you can say black sails is ONLY about one thing because it embraces so much but being a queer woman or man is a very important

[madkiska]

watching the entirety of jrwi: riptide again. here's some important things from the first few episodes that I feel we forgot (<110 mentions too though)

Jay

Had night terrors similar to those of Kubakinta's curse in episode 5, and they eventually start returning even after Loffinlot's curse is lifted ○ All of them were about her family and/or the navy ○ I simply think people leave her out of the nightmare stuff and she deserves it. Hurt her more, please (he said, lovingly)

was actually very upset at having to use her medal to get a Loffinlot rebellion to shut up ○ This could be because she didn't want them to guess she was a spy, but I choose to believe it's because she felt guilty

"If you're gonna be sailing with someone, you should have a good relationship with them. [nervous chuckle]." She says, while asking him for information about the Black Rose Pirates (ep. 10)

Said "thank god they didn't find me" after a nightmare about the navy attacking. Even when she was supposedly a spy, who one day would have to return to the navy ○ Very unclear if she was scared of her dad, or if it's because she was a secret spy so the navy would've just killed her

Rewatching, she was suspiciously into the plundering and gold and stuff. Like that was real sus. It doesn't fit her current character much

The only one among them who's gambled before

Chip

The entire thing literally starts off with Bizly holding a lit match

Called Gillion "Gill" and Jay "Sureshot" from an early stage

Was SO much more of a bastard. Lied to Gill constantly, didn't care about anything but the money, etc.

Had aggressive hand tremors alongside Jay's night terrors ○ Gill cures it with lay on hands

When he gets drunk married, they talk extensively about how he'd be released when he's dead. Welp.

They did actually break up and it was fine and they were still friends. They parted on good terms

Is really fucking good at chess ○ Beat Earl twice and Jay once. Jay had a point of exhaustion after a nightmare but Earl had no excuse ○ Lost to Gillion though, but only cause of prophetic screwup ○ This kid is smarter than he lets on, y'all

Was the first one to have a backstory dump while Jay is asking him about the Black Rose Pirates, yet still we know jack shit about his life before them other than "orphan"

Gill

Charlie has referred to Gillion with 'they' many times. I can pull receipts.

When describing Gill, Charlie said: "He's more.. elven, if you had to make a comparison. 'Cause I don't wanna be a fish guy". Oh, honey.

Smote a bald person by using his hair as a whip (ep. 4)

Was given anxiety and self-doubt alongside jay's night terrors and chip's tremors ○ "What do you want?" "I want the feeling of satisfaction I've been chasing my whole life." ○ This was episode FIVE.

First mention of the prophecy and how Gillion wasn't their ideal student is ep. 7, after he divine smites + prophetic screwups and deals like 60 damage to some beetles ○ Chip spends the next 30 seconds in gay awe

He refers to the crescent moon Niklaus tattoo as "my zodiac" (probably a bit) ○ It's not a lil basic white girl moon this thing is the entire size of his forearm

Gill had never heard about the Black Sea - it's unclear if the Undersea just don't know, or if that's just how sheltered he was (ep. 10)

Biz: "What would Gillion do. If he just had no goal - was just sitting there." "Gillion always has a goal." "Would his goal ever be to just.. Sit there?" "Absolutely not." ○ Later, Chip expresses that he doesn't know what Gillion likes. What he would want out of winning a bet. Gillion doesn't have an answer

Other

Apple, in a couple of early battles, acted like Gill's familiar (see: ep. 7)

They also pecked at his Niklaus tramp stamp and looked all confused at the idea of eating seeds

The specific crescent of the moon in the Niklaus tattoo is known as a symbol of "corruption" (ep. 9) and its antonym is the sun, for "life", similar to the yin and yang ○ Interesting to consider after what the tree said in 110 <_<

Pretzel has a masters degree in couple's therapy (ep. 10)

The Albatross/Millennium Chipper was described as the colour of rosewood or mahogany

Captain Lizzie's first introduction was a wanted poster, and Chip wanted to turn her in for the prize, then decided to try learn from her instead

Chip/Bizly called Old Man Earl "Erol" for a loooong time ○ Maybe it's an accent thing but I have an uncle called Erol and so this stands out to me

[anonymous-dentist]

Ocean's Haunted

Read on AO3

-

First off, the ocean's haunted.

That's very important.

Once upon a time when Cesar was still on land, his mother told him all about the spirits that lived on the water. There are the ghosts, of course, and their ships that sail under the full moon. Sea monsters that live in the deepest parts of the ocean and drag sailors to their dooms. Sirens that take on the appearance of one's deepest desires.

What Cesar's mother failed to mention were the goddamn sea zombies.

Sea zombies like the ones currently trying to eat Cesar's face: lean and filled with holes like a sponge, leaking water from every orifice, hair the color and appearance of decayed seaweed. And, of course, smelling of dead fish.

Being alone on his back in a rowboat in the middle of the ocean miles away from land and armed with only a pistol (one bullet left) and a bottle of rum (unopened), Cesar briefly thinks that this is how he's going to die: alone.

The sea zombie gurgles and spits up a mouthful of brackish brown water onto Cesar's shoes. Its teeth graze the back of his calf, tearing his pants' leg to shreds.

Cesar kicks the fucker and skitters back in his boat until his back is against the bow. His hand scrambles for his pistol, finds it.

He raises it with both hands. He doesn't have the time to aim, but at at least his hands don't shake as he fires his last and final bullet into the sea zombie's icky oozing skull.

The sea zombie collapses into a puddle of sea foam with a scream. Its teeth, somehow, are left behind. As are its remaining clothes, including a large, audaciously-colored tricorn hat.

Cesar stares at the foam.

"What the fuck?" he asks it.

The foam, predictably, doesn't answer.

Slowly, Cesar sits up. He puts his gun down in his lap and adjusts the remains of his pants. He looks longingly at the bottle of rum. He internally curses his mother for not knowing about goddamn sea zombies. He externally curses his "father" for his very existence, just because he can.

The sun starts to set over the horizon, and Cesar settles back at the boat's oars. He presses a hand gently to his stomach, and he lets out a sigh of relief when he doesn't start bleeding again.

With a sigh, he cracks his neck, and he picks up the oars in each hand, and he starts rowing again.

-

Pirates.

Ever since he was a child, Cesar has hated pirates. Not because of their whole rob-and-kill-and-steal thing, but because he's only met one pirate in his life, and his life has been ruined ever since.

It's a personal thing. Some people hate pão de queijo. Others hate the winter months. Cesar hates his no-good father, and he hates pirates.

But when a ship that looks about as textbook a pirate ship can be pulls up next to Cesar's rowboat, Cesar feels a rush of relief.

A head pops over the side of the ship, feet above Cesar's head.

"Hello!" the head calls- black hair, and a smile obvious even in the night.

Cesar raises a hand in greeting. "Hey."

"Do you need some help?"

Cesar moves to answer with a, "Nah, I'm good," but, suddenly, the head is yanked out of sight by a pale hand.

"What are you thinking?" a new voice- female?- hisses. "We don't know this guy?"

"Aw, look at him, though! He'll die without our help!" the head argues.

Cesar puts his oars down for the moment.

And then he picks up his still-unopened bottle of rum and holds it in the air like it's a trophy.

"I have rum!" he calls.

Immediately, a woman's head and shoulders appear where the last head was. She looks almost as much a corpse as the sea zombie Cesar just killed, but beggars can't be choosers.

"Why didn't you say so?" she asks, warmth dripping off her voice like slime mold. Her head turns to the side. "Joui, get the ladder."

And that's when a third voice appears and sighs, "Come on, are you just going to let any old wretch onto the ship because they have rum? They could be a siren."

"I'm not a siren," Cesar helpfully says.

A new head, the third voice's, presumably, appears next to the woman's. This man, Cesar notices, is balding.

R-I-P.

"Prove it," the balding man says.

The first head appears on the woman's other side, pouting.

"Would a siren do this?" Cesar asks. He raises his empty pistol to his temple and puts his finger on the trigger.

Alarmed, the first head reaches out as if that'll do anything.

The other two people are not amused.

Sighing, Cesar lowers his gun and flatly says, "And I can play the accordion."

The balding man grins and claps his hands together. "Joui, get the ladder!"

Head number one salutes and ducks out of sight once more. (That'll be 'Joui' then...)

The woman looks at the balding man with a frown. "So me wanting rum is suicidal, but you wanting sea shanties isn't?"

The man shrugs. "What can I say, my dear? We're pirates. We need a sea shantier."

Cesar isn't sure if that's an actual word or job description, but he doesn't quite feel like arguing with the pirates currently saving his life.

One rope ladder climb later, Cesar finds himself tied to the ship's mast with his rum being drank straight from the bottle by the woman.

All three of the pirates are gathered around him, each one with weapons very clearly visible on their persons.

Cesar squirms slightly. "You couldn't have at least let me sit down before tying me up?"

"Nah," says the woman, bottle to her lips.

Well.

Pirates.

Cesar looks around. It's an empty ship, no crew members in sight besides the three in front of him. The sails are down, and the anchor's chain is leading off the side of the ship. The deck is a mess, and the rigging is knotted just so incorrectly that it's making Cesar's teeth hurt.

The balding man steps forward, his hand resting on the end of his sword on his belt.

"What crew do you work for, then?" he asks, fake smile and even faker gold teeth.

"None," Cesar truthfully replies. "I'm out here on my own?"

Presumably-Joui furrows his brow in confusion. "In a rowboat?"

Cesar shrugs. "It was all I could afford."

That, though, is a lie. His mother left him one hell of a fortune when she passed, and all that money is currently siting in a bank back home waiting for his return. (He'll never actually return, but the money doesn't need to know that.)

But, well, it's a bunch of pirates. They don't need to know the truth.

(Mostly because the truth, of course, is too strange for anyone, even a pirate, to believe.)

Silence. Physical silence so heavy that it weighs Cesar's shoulders down. It sits in the pit of his stomach and tugs on his tongue, begging him to talk.

The woman leans over to whisper to the balding man. His face crinkles, and he whispers back with his hand cupped over her ear.

Cesar chooses to lock eyes with Maybe-Joui.

He looks... nice? He smiles when Cesar makes eye contact, though he stays a fair distance away from the mast, a full step or so behind the other two pirates.

A literal second of eye contact is all Cesar can take, though; he shivers and swallows the lump in his throat and looks up at the sky, instead.

Stars.

And the moon.

Bald and Woman's whispering gets louder as they start to argue.

"We are not telling him!" Bald hisses. "Are you crazy?"

Woman rolls her eyes. "What else are we supposed to do? He is literally ten feet below us right now!"

"Yeah, and he probably heard us bringing him up," Maybe-Joui adds.

Both Bald and Woman snap their heads towards Maybe-Joui with narrowed eyes.

"This is a private conversation!" Woman huffs.

"Cover your ears," Bald tells him.

Maybe-Joui's face falls, but he nods and puts his hands over his ears, though not without mumbling, "Maybe don't speak so loudly next time..."

He even closes his eyes for good measure. How polite.

But Cesar, facing him, can see that the way his hands are placed leaves plenty of room for sound to sneak in.

Cesar bites back a smile; he can always appreciate a good fofoqueiro.

"What about me?" he asks. "Do I need to cover my ears, too?"

Woman and Bald both ignore him. Assholes.

Sighing, Cesar tips his head back until it's resting against the mast.

At least they aren't sea zombies, he tells himself.

"We could use the extra help..." Bald muses.

Suddenly, there's the sound of a hand striking cloth, and an offended, "Hey!"

"Are you crazy?!" Woman argues. "He might be an occultist!"

"Look at him, he's, like, twelve. How many occultists do we know that are children?"

Okay, what?

"I'm 29," Cesar sighs.

He tilts his head down to give the pirates a tired look.

They both look at him with varying levels of confusion on their faces.

"Maybe he is an occultist," Bald admits.

"Maybe we should get Cris," Woman adds.

A shudder goes down Cesar's spine at that.

A cloud passes over the moon.

Foreboding.

Maybe-Joui's eyes snap open, and he drops his hands back to his sides.

"Oh, are we getting Cris?" he asks. "I can get him."

Cesar barely manages to hold back a wince.

A cold wind blows across the ship's deck.

Foreboding.

Cesar flexes his arms against the ropes tying to him to the mast. He isn't that strong, but maybe...

Oh, who is he kidding? There's no way that he's on this ship. What would be the odds of that?

The ship creaks.

And then Cesar hears them: footsteps. From below, wooden planks groaning in protest of the weight on them; a door opening.

Panic rises in Cesar's throat. It's bitter and horrible and familiar in the same way as an old blanket and, suddenly, he has a bad feeling.

"Throw me overboard," he hoarsely says, looking right at Maybe-Joui because he, at least, seems normal.

Maybe-Joui's eyes widen. "What? No!"

Woman claps her hands together. "Well, you heard him, boys. Let's throw him overboard."

Cesar strains against the ropes. His ears ring. The moon is looking at him, judging. The pirates are looking at him, judging. His chest hurts. His arms hurt. Is he bleeding again? His shirt feels wet. Damnit.

Bald holds up a hand. "Now, hold on, look at him. Something's wrong."

Of course something is wrong, something is always wrong!

Woman puts the bottle of rum down on the deck. She crosses her arms, a frown appearing on her face.

"Hmph," she brilliantly says.

Maybe-Joui perks up slightly. "Guys, I hear someone moving downstairs."

Woman and Bald tense. They look at each other, having a silent conversation that Cesar, frankly, could care less about.

"Cris," they say in unison.

Bald turns to look at Cesar, and something weird lights up in his eyes.

He smiles, slightly, and he takes a full step back away from the mast, stretching his arms above his head.

"Liz, darling, take a good look at our guest," he calmly says.

Foreboding.

Cesar flinches as a door slams open on the other side of the deck.

Woman's eyes widen. "Oh. I see."

"I don't," Maybe-Joui says.

"What are we seeing?" a fourth voice- utterly grating and horrible and terrible and shitty and bad and disgusting- calls, a yawn and a smile in his voice.

Panic falls way to anger, which falls to hatred, which falls to nothing.

Cesar goes limp, falling back against the mast and looking down at the deck. He's. Tired.

"Who's this?" he hears.

"We have a guest," Bald hums. "Joui fished him out of the ocean. He hasn't given us a name yet, but... maybe you can help with that?"

The deck creaks with every heavy footstep.

Once, Cesar's mother told him about his "father": a tall, handsome man with a big hat and wide shoulders. He was a sailor, she said, and he always came home from his voyages with gold and silver and the finest jewelry Cesar's mother had ever seen.

A few weeks after Cesar was born, Cesar's father left for another trip. He left a letter behind. He left his wife behind.

He left his son behind.

"He can play the accordion," Maybe-Joui helpfully says. "I think we should keep him."

"I'm not an animal," Cesar grumbles.

He looks firmly at his boots even as the hulking figure of the fourth pirate comes to stand in front of him.

"Well?" Woman asks.

"Why is he tied up?" the pirate asks, sounding almost upset. "Hold on..."

Hands start tugging at the ropes.

And then they suddenly stop.

"Wait a minute..." the pirate murmurs.

"Oh, this will be good," Woman quietly says to her friends.

"Look at me," the pirate gently orders, voice cracking as his two hands settle on either side of Cesar's face.

Cesar sneers and tries to shrug off the pirate's touch. "Go fuck yourself, old man."

The pirate gasps, "It is him!"

And then Cesar is being pinned to the mast as the pirate hugs him, wrapping his beefy arms around both Cesar and the mast and Cesar can't breathe for so many reasons-

"Cesar!" the pirate weeps, tears in his voice and running down his face and dampening Cesar's hair. "My boy!"

Cesar tries to become one with the mast. Why didn't they throw him overboard?

"Cristopher," he stiffly replies. "I can't breathe."

The pirate backs up immediately, though his hands remain on Cesar's shoulders.

For the first time in years, Cesar looks his father in the face, and he feels nothing.

The pirate is crying. Cristopher is crying, the overemotional old man. He's gained a massive scar on his face since Cesar last saw him, and his hair has gone fully white. He's in his pajamas already even though it's barely past sunset.

"Girl!" he shouts over his shoulder. "Untie my son!"

Maybe-Joui winces. "Um, Mr. Cris, I'm not sure-"

"Gladly," Woman smirks.

She approaches, winks as she passes Cesar and steps behind the mast.

Cesar desperately tries to avoid Cristopher's gaze as he's being untied.

Maybe the sea zombies aren't too bad...

The ropes drop.

Cesar immediately makes a break for it, shoving past Cristopher and the balding man and running for the edge of the ship.

"Son!" Cristopher cries.

Cesar manages to get one leg over the ship's railing before two strong arms are wrapped around his chest and pulling him away from the edge.

"Don't be stupid," Maybe-Joui snaps, stumbling backwards with Cesar and expertly dodging the fists being thrown his way.

"Who's stupid!?" Cesar exclaims. He throws an arm out and points at a pained-looking Cristopher. "That guy's insane! I'd rather take my chances with the sea zombies!"

"'Insane'?" Cristopher repeats, face falling. "Cesar..."

Cesar glowers. "Don't."

He does stop fighting, though... mostly because he can see Bald and Woman snickering together near the mast.

Maybe-Joui drags him just a little bit further before dumping him on the deck. He crouches next to Cesar, head cocked slightly, a weird expression on his face. It's halfway a smile, halfway a frown, halfway a confused hmmmm? of a look.

And then he holds up a hand, one that was pressed against Cesar's stomach during the brief struggle. Even in the moonlight, it's clear to see how it's painted red.

He looks up and towards Woman.

"Liz-senpai?" he calls. "Is your office cleaned up yet?"

Cesar looks down at his stomach and groans, flopping fully onto the deck in defeat.

"What?" Woman asks. "Why... oh. Huh. Shit, okay. Help our new friend down, would you?"

Cesar doesn't so much as spare a glance in Cristopher's direction as Maybe-Joui and Bald each take a side and help him to his feet.

"What happened?" Cristopher demands. "Cesar, what happened?"

What else could it have been? Out of every monster Cesar's mother told him about, one came up time and time again in her stories as the worst of them all:

Pirates.

--

A/N: Hi! If you liked this, please let me know! I'm super nervous about writing for a different fandom, so any comments or reblogs or anything would be SUPER appreciated!

[formerlycookierunauprompts]

AU Prompts #12 - ✦💓

<Reader is fem here btw>

CONTENT WARNING : There is a cult, human sacrifices, a bit of drowning and depictions of multiple eyes.

.

Admittedly, staying in a cult probably wasn't your best idea after finding out that you were living in a cult for most of your life. But alas, you were stupid. Upon the day of your village's Eclipse Festival, you were called into the Mayor's office. You'd only gone because you didn't really want them to catch onto the fact that you knew about the cult... Unfortunately it turns out that the Mayor called you in because they wanted you as sacrifice... Yippee. So, here you are in your fancy multiple layer dress of thin fabrics(or well, pastry if you wanna get into cookie terms), your body feels numb as you stand off the edge of the cliff at the rushing seas that had turned pitch black. Your mind feels less numb than your body, yet you can barely tell what's going on. You're pretty sure that the Mayor hypnotized you as well. The Beast of the Shadows... You're pretty sure that that's the thing they worship. You can only hope that it doesn't exist, and that you'd die a hopefully peaceful death of drowning. Or maybe a quick one of getting impaled on one of the rocks below. You don't know. And then, you're falling through the air. It feels for a moment like your sailing through space, you couldn't really tell up from down despite knowing what each were earlier. You felt a bit strange from your sudden spinning worldview. Time slowed as you began to think, everything you loved, dreamed, feared, and everything else that seemed so terrifying... You were leaving it behind right now. You hit the water with a loud splash, leaving a trail of bubbles in your wake as your slowly sunk down into the shadows of the sea. Well, at least you didn't get impaled on any of the rocks. In fact, all you could see around you was darkness. Darkness... darkness... Damn, that's a lot of darkness. Oh, there's something new.... Eyes? There's lots of them, big ones as well. Each one bares its gaze into your soul as you sink deeper and deeper. The first coherent though you have? ' Fuck, the beast might be real then.' You feel your back land upon something large, all the while a particularly bright pair of eyes stare at you. And then, there was just darkness.

----

You didn't expect to wake up, mind now unblurred as you can properly think again. First things first, where the hell are you? Looking around... It seemed to be some kind of palace? Everything was decorated in almost gloomy hues of blue and black, reminding you of the abyss you saw before you passed out. " Where... am I?" You mumble out, not expecting any response to come. " This is the Palace of Shadows." A voice begins, startling you as you let a shriek slip out of your mouth. You turn to see another cookie but... it looks like there's something fundamentally wrong with them. Almost like they'd been hollowed out. " The domain of the Beast of Shadows, or as he is known by here, Shadow Milk Cookie." " Okaaayyyy...." You said in confusion. " And who are you?" The cookie before you giggles, " Me? I have many different names and faces." They say almost gleefully. " But I am just an actor in Shadow Milk's plays, I have no real name or identity." Ah, that... probably explains the hollow feeling you get from them. " But you have a very very special role to play! One that will likely never change!" The cookie said enthusiastically, taking your hands and pulling you up off of the floor. " Yes, a very important role to play indeed!" You stared at them, cracking up a confused eyebrow. " Do I have to play sacrifice again? Because I'm not keen on doing that." You partially joke, and it seems like it was funny enough to send the cookie into a fit of laughter. " No, silly! You get to play the role of our Grand Director's Bride!" ... " what."

[c0n-fus3d]

𝑫𝒓𝒐𝒘𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝑰𝒏 𝑯𝒆𝒓 𝑩𝒍𝒖𝒆 𝑶𝒄𝒆𝒂𝒏

(𝙵𝚎𝚖!𝚐𝚎𝚘𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚙𝚑𝚎𝚛!𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚡 𝚜𝚒𝚛𝚎𝚗!𝙹𝚒𝚗𝚡)

Author's note: THIS IS MY FIRST FIC I'M SO EXCITED TO WRITE THIS! Feel free to give your opinion on this fic :) so I know what I can improve about my writing!! Enjoy!!

(I did not proof read this)

You've always loved learning and studying about countries, lands, cultures, the world and everything mother nature has to offer. It always kept you fascinated somehow. So when you got a letter from an academy that taught more about geography saying you were accepted into it, you couldn't hold back your excitement and happiness, you nearly woke up your neighbors with your squeal of joy! (Which they made obvious the next morning that they were not happy about it..)

It didn't take long for you to pack your suitcase with your belongings, say goodbye to your family and loved one's and hopped on a ship that would sail to the place the academy was at. Their was a decent amount of people along with you on the ship, some of your age but you didn't know any of them. You still managed to make small talk with some of them because they ended up going off to the same academy as you and were, they were decent people which who you were able to have nice conversation with even though it was small.

It wouldn't take long for the sun to go down and before you knew it it was already night time. The sky dark and cloudy and the ocean looking like a dark pit of emptiness compared to it's dark blue look through the day, when it would sparkle when the sun would come up or go down.

You we're about to go off to your cabin to sleep, the cold breeze of the night hitting your skin. You then suddenly heard a sound, more like a song coming towards her ears. The song sounded strange but.. Comforting.. Alluring in some way, as if you were being hypnotized.

You don't know how you got to this point, it all happened so quickly. You we're on the deck and the you were drowning in the ocean along with everyone else on the ship. As much as you tried to scream and swim up to the surface, you couldn't, your body wasn't listening to your brain anymore. Your sight started to get blurry and your head got dizzy as the ocean pulled you down to its dark, void of nothingness.

As you were thinking of the thought of your dead body never being found and your loved one's never knowing what happened to you, a strange pair of arms wrapped around your waist from behind you, you wanted to pull away, get them off of you but again, your body had no reaction. The only thing you saw of the stranger.. Of 𝘩𝘦𝘳.. Before everything went to black was her long, blue hair, her dark magenta eyes staring at you as all of the panic left your body.

"𝘚𝘩𝘩.. 𝘑𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘢𝘹 𝘛𝘰𝘰𝘵𝘴.. 𝘌𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘴 𝘨𝘰𝘯𝘯𝘢 𝘣𝘦 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘦.."

she muses into your ear as a small giggle left her lips, and that's the last thing you remembered before everything around you faded away into darkness.

[siriuslysmoking]

Swim

Part 4 of Meddle About

Series Masterlist

A/N: Never been on a private plane or been on a sailing boat or been to the bahamas, this is all coming out of my ass. I did however watch a youtube video on how to sail so I'm basically an expert. Much love <3. I recommend listening to Mamma Mia soundtrack once they get on the boat.

Pairing: Fem!college student x sugar daddy!steve

Warnings: fem!reader, she/her pronouns, alcohol consumption, age gap (R:21, S:29), Reader fawning over Steve every moment she can, I don't think I missed anything, Not edited because I don't want to.

Word Count: 2k

Summary: Working and being a student is tough, you never seem to have a moment to yourself, so when one of you co-workers needs a shift and offers to take your saturday night double, you take it. Finally going out with your friends you encounter a strange man with a strange proposition.

-The water's getting colder, let me in your ocean, swim Out in California, I'll be forward stroking, swim So hard to ignore ya, 'specially when I'm smoking, swim World is on my shoulders, keep your body open, swim-

Steve picks you up at nine in the morning two months later. He walks up to your door and refuses for you to carry your own luggage down the stairs. He opens the doors for you and only lets you carry your book bag. The drive only takes thirty minutes to the airport.

"Mr. Harington, this way."

Neither of you go through customs likes you should, you don't get your bags checked like you normally would've.

Both you and Steve are guided by an employee to a side door onto the tarmac, to a much smaller plane than the other big airlines. You eye the side of Steve's face.

Once you step onto the plane is when you realize this is a private plane. You need to stop forgetting how rich Steve Harrington actually is.

The plane ride is full of smiles and Steve explaining the plans for the week. "I booked a nice dinner for us tonight and we can go to the beach after, do you like the beach? I didn't ask."

"I do." You laugh at the panic in his eyes, "No the whole sand thing, but I love the ocean."

"good, good." He nods, "I've never done this before."

"Never been on a plane?"

"No, never been on vacation."

"You're joking?" You look at him in shock.

"Not unless you count work trips."

"You are a ridiculous man." You laugh, looking at him, "If I had the luxury I wouldn't stop traveling."

"I never really had the need to. I'm what some might say, a workaholic."

"You don't say?" You look at him sarcastically, he just lets out a low chuckle. "Then we will have to make this your best vacation ever."

"Only vacation-"

"But best." You point out.

When you arrive at the house, it's the most beautiful thing you've seen. It's a white house with light blue shutters, right on the beach, with a pool, and surf boards.

Steve and you take a walk through the house, the kitchen is huge with a view of the ocean, there's two bedrooms and three baths.

The bedrooms were big with golden mirrors and balconies.

You and Steve unpack in your respective rooms across the hall. You throw your windows open, letting in the fresh air. "Hey, we have dinner in a couple hours, if you wanna get dressed now, we can go walk around town."

"That sounds good." You smile, he nods and closes your door behind him, letting you get ready in private. You throw on a white long sundress that has buttons going all the way down your front so that you can leave the bottom open for your legs. You put on some strappy white heels to match and throw on your favorite jewelry.

Putting on some light makeup while you spray a floral smelling perfume all around you. You access yourself in the mirror while you put your hair up in a clip.

Steve knocks on your door while you put some finishing touches on your hair, "Can I come in."

"Yep!" You look away from the mirror, looking to him.

well damn. He's wearing a simple white button up and black slacks. He's got sunglasses placed on the top of his head and he looks good.

"Wow, sweetheart, you look beautiful."

"So do you." You smile back at him.

"Ready to go?" He holds a hand out.

"Yeah." You grab your bag and take his hand as he leads you down the stairs and into the car he rented for the week.

His hand stays firmly on your knee as he drives downtown. You stare at the beautiful sight- the outside of the car and inside.

You arrive in no time and of course Steve rounds the car to get your door, "Thank you for coming here with me. Doing this."

"Hey, I got a free vacation, I would never turn that down." You joke, he laughs along as he grabs the door to the restaurant.

You two get settled at a table on the patio. Both of you glance at your menu, discussing what you should get.

"You know, I've never asked the simple questions." Steve looks up from his menu.

"Then ask."

"favorite animal?"

"Elephants."

"Why?"

"They are a lot like humans, they mourn their dead like we do, burying them in dirt, trying to stuff their wounds with herbs, and even stay by their dead for days after they die."

"Woah, I didn't know that."

"What about you?" You put your elbows on the table, leaning forward

"Dogs."

"Why?"

"They're cute?" He scrunches his face.

"That's valid." You laugh.

The next day Steve wakes you up to breakfast on the porch of the house. After eating his pancakes you might have gotten down on one knee right there. You thought about going down on both knees when you saw him in his pajamas, simple gray sweatpants and a black t-shirt.

He explains your plans for the day, he rented out a boat for the day.

A new thing you learned about Steve, He has a Sailing License.

You go upstairs to get dressed for the day and throw on your bikini and a sundress that also counts as a swimsuit coverup. You slip on your sandals and grab your bag. You meet Steve downstairs where he's packing a bag of sunscreen and towels. He goes quiet as he looks up at you, he takes a moment to study you and you suddenly wonder if you should be wearing something else, then he breaks your thoughts by smiling wide and softly saying, "Ready?"

You nod, following him out of the door.

You didn't know much about boats but when you got there it looked like something right out of Mamma Mia.

"This beauty is called a Picchiotti Classic Bermuda Ketch."

"You know that means absolutely nothing to me, right?"

"Just wanted to impress you with my big words."

You watched as Steve tied all the ropes and raised the sail. While he was working you applied sunscreen and watched as reached for different things, his shirt lifting and-

You need to stop. You think to yourself.

Once you're on the water you rid yourself of your dress and lay down in the sun, pulling out a book.

"Having fun?" You hear Steve ask.

"Living my Mamma Mia dream." You sigh, basking in the sun.

"Mamma Mia?" He glances at you.

"Yeah, the movie, they used all ABBA songs."

"I know what ABBA is, but what's Mamma Mia?"

"No." You look at him in disbelief, propping yourself on your elbows, "Oh my god, you're serious!"

"I'm sorry?" He looks at you with a confused expression.

"You should be!" You laugh, "We're watching it when we get back."

"Alright then." He agrees with a smile.

"Tell me when you get hungry, I've got a surprise for you."

"This isn't when you kill me and dump me into the ocean, right?" You raise an eyebrow.

"Again, don't plan on killing you," He smiles then it suddenly drops, "Yet."

"Killed by a rich man on his boat." You raise your hands as if it was on a billboard, "Sounds like a good way to go."

"At least you have standards." He laughs, sitting next to you. "What are you reading?"

"Wouldn't you like to know."

"Yeah, I would." He snatches the book out of your hands, before reading the back, He sits in silence as his eyes glance over the page. He looks at you while you give him a smirk.

"You sure?"

"I see you have high standards in other categories as well."

"Wouldn't you like to know." You repeat yourself with a sly smile, stealing your book back. "I'll let you read it when I'm done."

"Can't wait." He sends you a wink and stands up, turning and asking, "Drink?"

"Yes please." You smile up at him. He comes back with two Margaritas in hand, "Thank you."

"Of course." He sits and you've noticed he's taken his shirt off. You try your hardest to keep your eyes on the pages of your book but you can't help but let them wander.

Twenty minutes later Steve comes out with plates and lays them on a picnic blanket, "I asked Mia what your favorite food was and she was very specific."

You almost melt when you see him lay out all of your favorite food. "Steve."

"Yes-," He pauses, his face almost panicked, "Wait did she mess with me?"

"No, no." You stand when he sets the plates down with a sigh of relief. You engulf him in a hug, he seems shocked by it but after a moment he wraps his arms around your waist, and you whisper. "Thank you so much."

"It was nothing."

"No, it wasn't." You don't let go, hugging him tighter, "Maybe to you, but this means a lot, so accept my thanks."

"You're welcome." He whispers into your hair. He slowly lets his hands fall to your waist and you follow suit, your eyes meet and his hands settle in yours. You hold eye contact for what feels like seconds but hours at the same time. You feel your eyes falling lower from his eyes and then to his lips-

Steve clears his throat, quickly stepping away from you, he motions to the food, "Let's eat."

You stay still for a moment then quietly you sit across from him on the blanket.

A couple hours later you find yourself dipping your toes in the water, Steve's already in the water with his life jacket on.

The wind has died so the boat is steady. You are reading your book and you don't notice Steve looking at you, until you feel water on your face and book. You slowly look up, shoving your bookmark into your book. "That's foul."

Steve just smiles, "You'll forgive me."

"No." You stand. up, leaving your book on the ground, "Maybe if you hit me, but my book is next level."

You jump in the water, splashing him in the process. You feel his arms around you before you even touch the surface. "What do you think you're doing?"

"Attacking you with water."

He laughs, "You really shouldn't be in the water without a life jacket."

"But I have you to save me." You give him an innocent smile.

"Hours ago you were asking me if I was finally going to kill you, now you think I'll save you from drowning."

"What can I say," You wrap your arms around his shoulder as he holds your thighs up. "I'm a very trusting person, some may say it's a flaw-"

"I say it's your greatest strength." He says softly.

"Why, thank you kind sir."

The both of you have been waiting for the wind to pick back up, so when you feel it, the both of you take notice, "Let's get back on the boat."

He helps you over to the boat, not letting you swim on your own even though he knows you're fully capable. He lets you up the ladder first, then he follows after.

You spend the rest of the time just watching him in his element.

You make it back right before sunset and he tells you what he plans to order in. "Sushi?"

"Oh, most definitely."

After picking up dinner you and Steve settle on the couch, he clicks on Mamma Mia and you settle so that you can see all of his expressions and the screen.

By the time you've finished your meals you and Steve have moved close to each other on the couch, your legs rest over his and his hand lays over your upper calf.

Throughout the movie he makes comments such as:

"We have the same boat"

"Why does he have tattoos there?"

And

"Why is she singing to a child?"

At the end of the movie he looks at you with wide eyes, "We don't get to know who the father is?!"

"No." You laugh.

"There's DNA tests for a reason." He huffs, you almost burst out in uncontrollably laughter on how serious he is.

"She doesn't want to know, it's three times the love."

"I think it was Bill." he crosses his arms, seemingly studying the credits.

"I'm a firm Sam believer."

"No, He's a cheater, I can't get behind him." He shakes his head, still looking at the TV.

"Just wait until you watch Mamma Mia 2."

His eyes go wide as he looks to you, "There's a second one?!"

-

-

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[a-fluffy-dog24]

The legend of the sea bros

The boys are off on an adventure at sea And talk about they issues and they need each other emotionally and physically to survive. Ford is trying to reject the help from his brother that he desperately needs.Stan is so worried about his brother that he forgets that sometimes he needs to rely on his brother for support.

September,8,2012

It was a beautiful morning off the coast of South America Stan was standing on the deck of their boat. "Good morning you up early" Ford said sarcastically Stan sticks his tongue out at him Ford rolls his eyes. "At least I don't go to bed at 8:00 "Stan teased "well at least I'm not hungover" Ford teased "Shut up and give me my coffee".

Ford handed him his coffee "what have you been up to this morning" "well I shower made breakfast and, I packed us supplies for today". Stan ate breakfast then they headed out to go exploring.Stan is wearing a red beanie and a white shirt and brown coat,blue pants Ford is weairing red sweater and blue coat,black pants boots They went through the forest, and caves and found a small black egg with red spots alone on the ground. Ford wants to take it to learn more about what creature it is he never seen an egg that color before. Stan thinks he shouldn’t.Because he remembered that time during the summer when he hatch a dinosaur egg and it end badly for his wallet. But Ford is interested on trying to hatch they had lunch on the top of the hill.

."Well Stanley we did it, do you remember when we were 12 years old and we found a boat and named it the StanOwar". "Yea seems like only yesterday I remember mom came to check on us to make sure we weren't missing she thought it was so cute"Stan said "yeah she took this picture of her two little adventurous" Ford put out the picture and showed him and Stan remember “we try to paint the whole thing" ,"I remember you through paint at me" Ford teased. "Yea by the time we were done we were covered in paint" "do remember how upset mother was"Ford said "She was pissed we didn't have shirts we were sunburned that was not a fun night "Stan remember

"Anyway this sandwich is beautiful” he says well eating “oww god I have a bad headache” he complains . “Do you take your meds this morning” Ford asked “no” he replied “well that’s probably why you need to take them when we get back”. They packed up and hiked back to the beach to their boat. They can see the sunset fading from blue to red."Did you see that" Stan asked "what did you do you see" "sixer I think a sea monster maybe". They ran onto their boat and put the egg down somewhere safe "I don't see anything" "never mind let go"Stan pulled up the aker. They sailed out to sea for a while then they saw it bobbing in the water.

Stan look at the water it rose from the water "LOOK THERE IT IS GET SOMETHING TO KILL IT WITH holy SHIT it's huge".The giant monster starts attacking the boat "ok I got a spear" Ford grabs a spear and throws it at the huge green sea monster. It has one eye but he misses and the monster gabs Ford's arm and starts putting him overboard.He accidentally hit his head into the wall of the boat it makes him feel like the floor is moving up and down.He starts pulling away and hitting it hard with his hand but it no use "Fuck " Ford yelled Stan run over and punks the monster in the eye, "GET AWAY FROM MY BROTHER YOU SON OF A BICH "he yells.It goes away back into the water, Ford laughs "you did it how hard did you punk it ""I don't know hard enough I guess".

Ford has difficulty sitting down because the his body is shaking and his head really hurts. He tried to get up on the wooden box,but he is feeling frustrated that he keeps falling down do his dizziness."Are you ok" Stan looked worried as he can’t even sit down "I'm fine" "but you’re bleeding and you’re still dizzy let me help you". "No, I can take care of myself I manage to for 30 years” Ford tried to stop the large cuts from bleeding. On his hand and arm it bleeding all down his arm. But he can’t hold still long enough for the blood to clog.Stan dock the boat on the sandy shore but after he come up with a first a kit and a bowl  of soapy water. Ford takes the wet washcloth and wipes his arm ."Thank you" "I'm not going to let my brother get hurt by some dumb monster" he said hopeing that his brother will let him help. “I’m perfectly capable of tending to my own wounds ” it takes him a long while to rap a bandage around his arm.

Then the guys try to call Dipper and Mabel "mazel tov how do you turn this thing stupid on "Stan frustrated hit the phone "I don't know, did you read the intrusion they gave us"Ford said sarcastically."shut up it's working " ....... "Hi Grunkle Stan Hi Grunkle Ford"she yelled excitedly "Hi you guys"said Dipper "we have missed you kids"Stan told them . "What are you doing?"she asks "I just defeated a sea monster" Stan said proudly "how big was it" she wondered "It was huge bigger than the mystery shack" "wow cool"she added "are you sure you're not lying"Dipper questions.

"No he's not and I found this meritorious egg" Ford held it in his hand. It's almost as big as his hand "that's amazing, what do you think it is"Dipper wondered. "I don't know, we have to wait and see" "I think it's like a big butterfly"she hoped ." Mom and dad said we have to go to bed by" Dipper interrupted "by love you guys"she smiled and waved goodbye "bye bye ""by see you soon"Stan hung up  the phone.

Then later Stan makes dinner because if Ford made it they would be eating cereal for dinner.They eat dinner they have fish with carrots and drink their beer on the deck and watch the stars. Ford turns on a radio to listen to some 60s and 70s music.Stan looks angerly at Fords bandages. “Why do you drive me crazy” Stan asks frustrated “what do you mean what are you talking about” he has an idea about what this might be about. “Ford why won’t you let ME HElP YOU ” Stan yelled “because I’m a grown man WHY DO YOU CARE SO MUCH” he argued “CAUSE I LOVE YOU StanFord I’m trying to make sure you don’t fucking die…. I don’t want you to be hurt” Stan argued. “You need to let people help you sometimes” he finish saying

“I’m sorry Stanley I’m just so used to being independent I don’t realize when I need you” Ford apologize. “It’s okay…….remember when we were kids and we tried to be explores we made a car out of a box. Whore dumb little outfits with the stuff from dad’s shop” Stan reminisce and lit his pipe. Ford takes a sip of his beer “Yes we were really young I think 6 or 7 without are understanding how gravity works.We tried to see what would happen if we pushed it down the stairs with us in it.” “Oh boy that hurt but that didn’t stop us we got up and did it again”Stan laughed. “I think thats how I lost my first baby tooth” Ford told him. “Speaking of which remember in the Photo Booth when we were fooling around and I fall down on my head. I lost my front tooth I was such a stupid kid .” Stan sheepishly .

“Yup I didn’t enjoy explaining that to are parents,they we should have known better at 13 not to be roughhousing. They never got it properly fixed did they?”Ford add “yeah as a teen I got a fake tooth and that help. I mean now I have dentures so that Solve that problem.”He eat some of his food. Then he asks Ford “I've been going out with this girl” “are you sure it’s not a siren we don’t want to end up like the men in tales” Ford jokes. “NO she not or I hope really hope not ……Sixer hey do you want girlfriend", Ford looks up from his journaling "umm Stanley I don't know how to say this but" "oh do you boyfriend"he ask seriously ."I'm ok by myself..I have hobbies, I have the kids, I have you and that is all the love I need. Romance is a confusing feeling to me.I don't want a relationship at the moment I would probably prefer a male partner. It's has taken me a long time to accept that part of myself rather than me trying to run from it. But thank you for the offer".Stan took a smoke from his pipe and blew it off then he asked him.

"Ok just thought I ask....I still love you" Ford hug him and lifts Stan up a little "Hey put me down"Stan smiles at Ford “ since when can you pick me up off the ground you and your week nerd arms” Stan quested. “I’m stronger than you give me credit for little brother” Ford tease him. “Only 15 minutes there show off” Then Stan tried to licks him on the cheek, "what are you doing? No stop it". He moved closer "AHH STANLEY are you high'' Ford laughs "little bit "Stan laughs. "Do you want some" he asks "no I tried it in college I didn't like it and I'm still to mentally recover" he jokes "do you still smoke cigarettes" he asks. "No I quit been clean for 13 years or so" Stan tells him "well that's really great I know you were smoking for a long while good job " "Thanks I did it for the kids Soos brought me to the doctor and helped quit. But I still smoke cigars and stuff like to mix it up every once in a while. I guess that’s not as bad ."

"..Did you bathe today" Ford asked "well no" "that weed makes you stink like stunk go shower" Stan sticks his tongue out at him Ford rolls his eyes and smiles. "Oh bye the way I cooked you clean" Stan asked him "ok but please tell me you didn't use every pot and pan we own." Ford said and goes to start cleaning the mountain of dishes.But before he quickly realizes he needs to keep the egg warm. He picks it up from the blankets it had raps around it He put the egg under the a heat lamp and turned it on. Maybe they’ll have a new pet.

After Stan showers, they go to bed.12:00 am Ford got up to use the bathroom and he found Stan outside out the deck watching the waves. A 6 fingers hand was put on his back "Stanley what are you doing out here" "I couldn't sleep" "Did you have a nightmare". "Yes... I was in a room by myself in the dark and someone was telling me that I was worthless and I believe it.

The voice said it again and again but louder  and then dad came out of nowhere he told me to my face again that he thought I never was good for anything anyway. I...I COULDN'T"T DO A GOD DAM thing about it and I couldn't make it stop it's all my fault "he sobbed. Ford hugs him tightly "shhh okay you are not worthless without you I still be stuck in a another  dimension or the kids would gone.He really was a bad person it's feels a little worse to say that about our own father. But he hurt you and thats Something I can't let you be dragged down by for the rest of our lives. You're much more smarter than I am when it comes to noticing  things and braver too you really mean the world to me Stanley.

“Did you take your medicine this morning” “I don’t remember.. just to let you know you’re the one diagnosed with depression the medication is under your name” Stan told him he’ll have to call the pharmacy in the morning to get the prescription under Stanley name. “Come on let’s go bed” he whispers. He carried Stan like a small child and walked back inside. Ford decided that he too tried and exhaust from his withdrawal to drag himself to bed.

And he thinks that maybe this is a way to make up for his mistreat of his younger brother. Ford thinks that he is unhappy with himself for not being a good brother to him for being so selfish and stubborn even when Stan just trying to help him. He finds it difficult to let himself be cared for. Because he struggles with his shame of feeling like he doesn’t deserve to be loved. Stan would has no problem doing the same for him. Inside Ford gets his him his medicine and helps him in to bed. Stan looked at him and smiled a little bit and Ford thought maybe he still has a chance to change. He feels a lot better now that he’s brother looks to be doing alright. Ford wrapped a red plaid blanket around both of them they slept and cuddled side by side.

A day or two later they did some exploring on the beach of the new island it seems to be very populated by people. The locals are friendly to the twins they stop at a restaurant for breakfast "hey Ford do you want to hear the dream I had last night". "Maybe? Sure ""I had a dream that mom told me that she is proud of me for helping you..Isn't that weird". "Yea that odd I had a similar dream that she wanted me to be less stubborn and she was very happy that we're looking after each other".

"I wish mother was here"Ford told him taking a sip of his tea "I wish too but if it makes you feel better she knew" Stan comforted him "she knew about the portal and my disappearance" he asked. "Yes she is the only one I trusted and she knew I could bring you back. She gave me money when she could to help run it.And told me when she died I think that was a little while after the kids were born. She said to keep going to Bring you back." Stan took off his gold chain and opened it to show him.And in Lock it was a picture of the two of them and their mother.Ford touched with 6 fingers hand gently rubbing it and smiled Stan smiled too.After they finished their food they did some shopping at the market for supplies and food that should last them a few weeks. And get some cool stuff to show the kids.

"Is Shamans still alive" Ford asked him "umm no unfortunately he passed away a year ago from kidney cancer sorry" Stan told him. "That's a shame I thought we could go and see him is his wife Faith is she still alive" he said " Faith is she in a nursing home in Piedmont we could go with Michael if you wanted to" Stan offered Ford shook his head and agreed that they should when they get back home. Stan showed him a Hawaiian shirt he wants to buy even though he already has about 10. They headed to the ship and start dinner when the egg starts to hatch “look Stanley it’s hatching get my journal” Ford waits and watches what ever creature might come out.

“Lets hope it’s not a siren I don’t want to go through that again ” Stan hands him his phone a little brown head slowly pops out it has the ears of a cat and the eyes and mouth of a dog. A small round brown body covered in curly dark brown hair and a cat nose.Paws too big for it body thick tail with a white patch on the end. “Well that’s looks like something Mabel would draw she kind of cute” Stan try to pat her she moves away. “It’s incredible I’ve never seen anything like it before”Ford wrote down his observations.She jumped into his lap and licks his face “gross stop it be a good test subject ” Ford takes her and measures her height and takes pictures.Get a blood sample then he uses a microscope to look at her DNA.

A few hours later after Ford runs more tests Stan asks “You weren’t thinking of just using her to run your experiments and then getting rid of her were you”. “Well yes we can’t take care of a pet” Ford says “why not she can’t survive on her own just look at her” Stan points to her playing with a ball on the floor. “Ok you make a good point” he reaches out and gives her a scratch Stan pick her up and gives her her bottle. “How about Joy” he suggests “perfect” Ford agrees.They sailed around the world together from Colombia to Ireland to Australia to the Netherlands to Antarctica, to Africa and many other places looking for babes and treasure and creatures, myths .

[your-resident-boat-person]

ever play ultrakill? there's an ocean liner on stage 5-2. do you think it was based on any known ocean liner? if it's nothing obvious, what do you think a close comparison could be?

Howdy! Unfortunately, no, I haven't played ultrakill.

This is the ship you're referring to, yes?

The ultrakill wiki refers to it both as a cruise ship and a ferry. I'm not sure if there's another source that says it's an ocean liner, but for the sake of this post, let's assume it is. It's difficult to get a sense of scale from the photo or gameplay footage, so it's difficult to discern how big it is. Zooming in on the photo, it looks like the hull is made from wood? The largest wooden sailing ship ever built was the Wyoming, a 6-masted schooner measuring 450 feet long, and she sank because the wood she was made from, combined with her size, made her prone to sagging and hogging, which likely made her snap in the middle. Ships of that size just can't be made from wood. It's not strong enough (*cough* *cough*, Noah's ark... I'll get to you another day...) in terms of funnels, it has 2 which are very close together, and they appear to be red, with a black top (likely to mask the stains from the smoke and dust). The funnels look to most closely resemble the French line? I think? It's difficult to tell... in terms of a wooden hulled 2 funnel liner? My closest match is the SS Adriatic of 1856, belonging to the Colins line.

But as you can see, there isn't much of a resemblance... especially considering she has a friggin paddlewheel and rigging for sails

The ship looks considerably more modern. If it were real, judging by the superstructure, I'd be shocked if it predated the 1960s. But those round cylindrical funnels were WELL out of date by then, with may companies beginning to get creative:

The funnels are also pretty far back. On most Ocean Liners, the boilers, engines, and other heavy machinery were kept towards the middle of the ship, to ensure it would remain stable. We only started putting engines on the back of ships of this size relatively recently. For example, the SS America had 2 funnels, but only one was functional. It rests in almost the exact middle of the ship

And judging by the ultrakill ship, the funnels are pretty far back. They're REALLY close together, not unlike the SS Brittanic and Germanic of 1874

The bow also features a VERY prominent rake backwards. One of the earlier examples of this was the RMS Queen Elizabeth of 1938, but the rake wasn't very prominent.

The SS United States of 1952 featured a MUCH more prominent rake akin to that of the ultrakill ship

So in short... I dunno! It's kinda a mishmash of a lot of things! Thank you so much for the question, and if you need clarifications for anything I'm referring to or any of the vocabulary I use, feel free to ask! I can kinda forget sometimes that most people don't know a lot of these Nautical terms, and I love talking about this, so I don't mind explaining! :3

[shimmershy]

I want to put your Frisk, Chara, and Asriel in a snowglobe and shake them around /pos

They're so cute and canon it's insane

Also.... I see that lyric from the crane wives, I love them too (it's always Chara fans who like the crane wives for some reason)

Any songs you'd say suit Chara specifically?

Thank you very much!! That's a huge compliment! :]

The Crane Wives are one of my absolute favorite music groups. I got to go to one of their concerts with a friend this year and it was probably the best day of my life to be honest.

Hard question for me to answer because any song can be Characore if I think about it enough, especially The Crane Wives songs because their vibe is already pretty Characore tbh. BUT Canary in a Coal Mine and Strangler Fig in particular fit them really well. The actual meanings of the songs don't fit probably but taking the line "You built your kingdom around me", "I gave you everything I had and now I want it back" from Strangler Fig and deriving the rest of the meaning of the song from that makes me think it's very fitting for them. Plus vibes.

Canary in a Coal Mine is just my favorite song by them, I love it so so much. It always makes me think of Chara. "You and I are friends of empty graves, black air, and black black lungs" HELLO. "And when you break the surface without me, please don't return me to the dark of all the memories". It's just Their Song in my mind.

Back to the Ground. "Our hearts lay still and cold, under ice and frozen soil. I can't stay here anymore, so remember when I go. To give me back, give me back to the ground." Vibes.

Never Love an Anchor. NEVER LOVE AN ANCHOR. This one's so them it's painful. Obviously not related to any kind of romantic love for them. But like. "A ship could never love an anchor, so I did the only thing I could, cut the rope that set you sailing from my harbor". UAGH. " You'll never see the reasons I had for keeping my claws away when they were close enough to hurt you.." Them feeling so out of place with how much the Dreemurrs cared about them, feeling like they're not deserving of so much love because it's so different from what they're used to. They'll mess it up because they're a demon. Etc! I cannot explain this coherently but surely you understand.

The Garden. Less fitting probably but the vibes are there.

I could probably talk about this all day to be honest, I love making connections with song lyrics, but. I will stop here. Maybe some day I'll be able to make all the animatics to songs I want to make because it would be much easier to show it visually.

[writing-for-life]

Nuance in (The Sandman) Fandom

Send me asks about everything Sandman-related!

I thought a lot over the past few days, partly prompted by discourse on here, partly due to a couple of “interesting” asks and messages I received (the type you don’t answer). I *think* they might have been prompted by engaging in discourse on topics like anti-blackness/racism, misogyny/sexism, TERF characters etc in The Sandman.

Fandoms are always getting super sensitive if someone shines a critical lens on their favourite works, authors and characters. So to make this clear (in case it isn’t already obvious from my brain-rot blog):

I love The Sandman. I love Neil Gaiman. I have an extremely soft spot for Dream (and Desire btw, who deserves a lot more character analysis than just being summed up as “villainous, sexy bitch”. One day, perhaps ;)).

I can read The Sandman and just get lost in the story, even after decades and many rereads. 

But I can also view it through a critical lens—these things aren’t mutually exclusive.

Not critical enough or too critical?

As fans, we can get trapped in certain thinking patterns, like:

“My blorbo can do no wrong”-syndrome 

“Characters with flaws are inherently problematic and imply authorial endorsement of those actions” 

“Characterisation and problematic subtext are one and the same” (aka overanalysing and looking for problems where there are none is the death of every story, but failing to see problematic patterns where they are clearly visible is a problem, too).

Don't say anything bad about my favourite character

I think this doesn’t need much further exploration. It’s not my personal way of looking at stories through permanently rose-tinted glasses (I always feel it stalls my experience, but my experience is not everyone else's). Some people prefer that type of escapism, and I’m good with that (although the downside is of course that by not willing to engage with issues, we can unwillingly perpetuate them). Live and let live, ship and let sail. But please, for the love of god: Don’t insult people via their inboxes or messages just because their opinions and preferences don’t align with yours. I’m not going to sugarcoat it or phrase it “nicely”: It’s infantile (and a form of bullying btw), end of.

How can you even like a character who's so horrible? And that author must be equally horrible, too

We have to separate flawed characters, even those who are written to be really problematic, from real-life endorsement of these actions. 

Author, narrator and character are three fundamentally different things, and don’t overlap as much as some people seem to think. 

We can write vile, despicable characters to make a point (for me, Thessaly was always a prime example for this, and I explained why here). We probably hate them as we write them. I don’t know what else to say, but this facet of writing seems to get more and more lost on people, and it’s a worry. Crying for sanitised characterisation is one step away from censorship. We explore what is problematic about people and humanity through story. That’s how we process and learn. It’s nothing new, but it becomes impossible if we can’t write flawed and even disgusting characters. 

Face value…

Since I’m mostly in The Sandman fandom, I often read that its ending is hopeless, and that’s supposedly the entire message. 

It is agonisingly sad, yes. But is it truly hopeless? I personally see it as quite the opposite, but of course that’s my opinion, coloured by my life experiences.

I also get that show-only fans often haven’t read the comics, or at least not the whole arc. And as such, their outlook from what they’ve seen so far (and choose to focus on) has to be different by default. I also understand that many people are quite new to the comics, even if they have read them in their entirety. I’ve sat with them for 30 years, and I still find new things on every reread (and I read it more times than anyone should 🙈), and I still don’t feel like I’ve understood it all. Perhaps because I still haven’t fully understood myself (and it’s unlikely I ever will). If there’s one thing The Sandman isn’t, it’s one-dimensional and easy to grasp in its whole depth.

I just wrote a ginormous meta on it, if you’re interested, it’s here:

Subtext, (not so) glorious subtext

This is where it gets complicated:

We shouldn’t mix up characterisation and story subtext. Overanalysing every line to death will always make us find something that’s “problematic”, when it really isn’t in the wider context of the story.

Zooming in is NOT always a good thing. Sometimes, we actually need to zoom out. 

But subtext *can be* (accidentally) problematic. Even in stories we love. And none of this negates what I previously wrote.

Stories have real-life implications of sorts, and we need to be able to talk about it. That’s where those slightly flabbergasting, hostile inbox messages come in, and I want to expand on that "topic of contention" a bit:

Neil himself confirmed that the Endless basically warp reality, and that this is why, after Dream’s failed relationship with Nada, many black women in his vicinity suffer terrible fates (Ruby and Carla in particular). And that this spell is only broken when he dies, and that it is the reason why Gwen doesn’t suffer the same fate. And said Gwen then gets used as a plot device to basically absolve Hob (who canonically really is a problematic character, whether show-only fans like it or not) from his slaver past. Once again, very clearly: No one is making this up. Neil confirmed it (for the comics, and that was over 20 years ago. It remains to be seen if his stance has changed as we move into that arc in the TV show).

I don't think it is correct to imply that Dream as a character is racist (I've read that, too) because he logically can’t be. He holds *all* the collective unconscious. He is also, strictly speaking, not white. He is everything and nothing, and he shows up in many different ethnicities throughout the whole arc, depending on who looks at him. But Neil played with a subtext here (reality warping due to a bad relationship which then affects everyone with similar physical traits) that will read very differently to a black person than it reads to a white person, and we have to understand why that is an *extremely* slippery slope.

Plus, we are supposed to see Hob, who *was* a racist at some point (you can’t not be if you’re a slave-trader—it’s impossible by default) as redeemed. And yes, he *does* regret deeply, good for him (and if I were saying this aloud, you would hear the sarcasm in my voice, because it is indeed all about him. We are to sympathise/empathise with him and his character growth while there isn’t much mention of the people he maltreated). But also: it was a black woman who basically forgave him (with dialogue that personally makes me cringe). And that black woman who offers forgiveness is not truly a black woman—she is a character written by a white man. And as much as author and character are not the same (see above), there is an inherent sensitivity in that power imbalance that we can't brush under the carpet.

I don’t think Neil is racist. Probably quite the opposite, and I can even see that his intentions were good from a storytelling point of view. BUT intention and impact are two fundamentally different things, and telling the story this way (comic version) betrays blindspots only white people have. Just like women have blindspots when they tell stories about men, and men have blindspots when they tell stories about women (and there are a few of those in The Sandman, too). And and and…

As storytellers, we can’t always speak from lived experience. It’s impossible. And that also means we occasionally make mistakes that look bad in hindsight, even if our intentions were good.

I guess the proof is in the pudding: What do we do when people who *have* that lived experience tell us it looks bad? If they inform us why it is hurtful, plays into old stereotypes etc?

Are we willing to listen and yield (both are the foundations of allyship btw), or are we insisting that our viewpoint as someone *without* lived experience is right? That lived experience extends to all lived experiences (sex/gender, sexual orientation, age...), and from all we’ve heard from Neil so far, it seems important to him to rewrite what he sees differently today. Whether they’ll always get it right for the show—we’ll see. At the moment, it looks a lot better than in the comics, and certain issues are already being handled with a lot more sensitivity, but a few problems remain.

Pushing back on criticism that comes from people with lived experience is problematic—I’d encourage us to think about what it looks like if a white majority in the fandom is basically saying that the opinions of POC are essentially “overreactions” (and yes, that happened).

It’s complicated. The Sandman was written in a different time, and I think we have to distinguish between things that weren’t really problematic at the time but have aged poorly (again, Thessaly springs to mind, and I have lived experience as a queer person during that time, so I can see it in context while at the same time acknowledging that I would make changes to bring it to the present day), and things that were always a problem due to blindspots. They were a problem in 1990, and if they don’t get changed, they are still a problem today.

This fandom is generally so much more open and nicer than others I know. But that doesn’t mean it’s infallible, because it’s full of humans. 

Nuance is sorely needed, in both story interpretation and interaction between said humans.

[tanoraqui]

queenship under siege and there's a WHAT in this mountain?! (LotR)

[re: badly described WIPs fics I almost certainly will never actually write - in the lead with 17.5% of the vote as of midnight 3/3/24]

I know I’ve said this before, because I do love it so, but:

The only reason, the ONLY reason, I would ever want the Arkenstone to be a Silmaril is this: the day after Aragorn leaves Rivendell with the Fellowship, Elrond summons Arwen to his study and bids her to go to Erebor.

"What?" she demands. "Surely I am needed here, or out in the wilds, marshaling the Rangers - "

"Your brothers will manage that, after they escort you," her father insists. "You must go to Erebor, and ask Dain to let you open Thorin's tomb, that you may look upon the Arkenstone. Gloin will help you - I spoke with him ere he left. Don't let anyone else know your purpose - as far as the world is concerned, I am sending my only daughter to a safe stronghold until Mordor is defeated."

"Are you not?" she cries. But he will explain no more than, "I think the jewel may be important to our oncoming war, but I wish you to assess it unbiased" - and he gives her two letters to read only once she's made her own judgement of the jewel.

So Arwen goes. The Misty Mountains are crawling with orcs, but in cloaks woven by their grandmother, she and her brothers slip through with only a few close calls. Elrohir and Elladan don't know why she's going even a little, save that their father bade it and (he said) their grandmother supported it. The problem with having Elrond for a father and Galadriel for a grandmother is that, while technically they may each be wrong at times (allegedly), in agreement they never are.

It's nice to have what may be one last journey with her brothers, at least. All three of them know that Elladan and Elrohir will soon be in battle alongside their cousins the Dúnedain, and for all Erebor's strength, it will soon be under attack. Rivendell might soon be under attack. Lothlórien might soon be under attack.

The twins leave almost as soon as the three of them arrive; they have other work to do. Dain barely protests letting Arwen mildly exhume his cousin in order to assess the famous jewel - he doesn't quite like letting an elf(ish person) near the Heart of the Mountain, but he is very worried about the black-armored army lurking across the River Carnen, and respects the wisdom of Elrond and his immediate kin.

Arwen sees the Arkenstone sitting calmly in the hands of of the fallen king, and she sees it clutched in the burning hand of a no-longer-king, fallen free from a twisted iron crown, stolen over a king's bloody body, hallowed by a Queen, forged in a fire like the world never saw again... It glows softly; its light matches that of the small crystal that hangs around her neck now, one of a set of three.

[Here me out: Galadriel made three: one for Celebrian and Elrond as a wedding gift, jointly from herself and Eärendil; one for thw twins upon their birth, and one for Arwen upon hers. Celebrian left hers behind when she Sailed; Galadriel gives it to Frodo.]

The letters are from Elrond and Galadriel, respectively. They say much the same thing:

I'm so sorry to spring this on you, and to make you a guardian of this secret

If the Ringbearer's quest fails and the Enemy regains his full power, please take the jewel (as freely giving by the dwarves if at all possible) and use it however you can to save everyone and everything that you can. (Elrond's says, "My parents will help as much as they can. Do not hesitate to ask for their or any other aid." Galadriel's says, "If you seek Undying Shores with mortals in tow, for succor or for more active aid, hold the Jewel high and beseech first Ulmo and his spirits, and then every single kin-relation you have, no matter the connection. Once you rouse the general populace, then approach the Valar - though don't appear to delay.)

Galadriel's says, "Círdan knows to potentially expect you." Elrond wrote, "If you see your mother before I do", stopped there and blotted it out.

Neither of them needs to say, We will hold the line, to buy you as much time as we can. Both say "I love you", "I'm sorry", and variations on, "I know you can do this."

Arwen made the Choice of Elros several decades ago: to live among Men as a Man, to take up queenship of a people at the start of a new Age of the World and rule until most of those she loved most had passed and it was time to follow as a Man. Now she faces the Choice of Elwing: to leave most of those she loved the most for dead and flee with Silmaril in hand and only the hope of the impossible to save a doomed continent.

(Or, if she was optimistic, the Choice of Lúthien: to face down the Lord of Death and demand back one single most beloved [for Aragorn could not live while Sauron triumphed], and steal him away for many peaceful decades ere doom fell entirely, their own best efforts done. But Lúthien had been, in her glorious way, very selfish, and Arwen was not.)

The reason I haven't started writing this fic and probably never will is that I have a perfect sense of what I believe kids call the vibes - the mood, the tone, themes, the visual and emotional aesthetic - and none of actual, like, events of the story.

It's about Arwen's final trial of leadership and diplomacy, before she (hopefully) takes up a throne of Gondor, being living with Dwarves for three months under threat and then fact of war. Helping in the infirmary. Participating in strategy discussions, because war isn't her area of expertise but she has participated a few times, in her nearly 3,000 years of life. Mediating as a neutral party on inevitable conflicts between Dwarves the Men, especially in the last week and a half when they're under high stress while besieged together with two kings dead in the field.

Carrying a torch in the deep corridors of the Mountain because she's Mannish enough not to see naturally in the dark. Standing extra watches because she's Elvish enough to see well in starlight, especially if the Star in question is her grandfather; and getting scouting reports from the local thrushes, because they're talkative and Melian's heirs have always had a knack for the speech of birds.

Busying herself with sewing a banner for Aragorn, with jewel-stars and a crown of mithril and gold - for her elders have appointed her as their last hope, and she shall hold it for them and for all the people she can save if in the end she must; but her Estel fights in the field. The night the armies of Mordor cross the river to strike at Dale, she stands on the summit of the Lonely Mountain and calls a friend among the Eagles, who takes the finished banner in her talons and bears it south to where Arwen's brothers and cousins ride to Aragorn's side.

(She shares dreams with him sometimes - but she must keep secret a thought that beats in her like a heartbeat, and he must devote all his thought to the quest and the war. So they don't speak much.)

It's about the crushing weight of history and legacy and the very practical matters of running a kingdom in duress. It's about multicultural exchange. It's about love and hope and a hundred different OCs, most of whom will never be recorded in history books even if they die heroically or steal siege-stores to sell on the black market, or simply live and thus deserve to do so. It's about hard work and mortality.

It's about how 77 years after the Battle of Five Armies, Dain II Ironfoot swings his axe until he falls defending the body of Brand King of Dale, son of Baird son of Bard the Dragonslayer, and their people all take refuge in the Mountain together; and Arwen tends the wounded with the Songs she learned from her father and the neat stitches her mother taught her for first cloth, then skin; and she walks among the frightened people - none of them remotely her people; Dwarves and entirely common Men, mostly descended from easterners migrating slowly west - and knows that if these are all she can save, she will gladly die or live as she must in order to do so; and the people hearken a little to see her pass by with starlight in her eyes and on her breast.

And then - after an eternity of painful anticipation, after what feels like no time at all - the Shadow passes, and the wait and tension abruptly lift.

They very much do still have to go defeat that army before the gates, though.

[doctorpandorica]

So Fanfiction, Deadpool and Wolverine, and Logan, made have a fucking epiphany about my mental health. Seeing it sky rocket at the box office, gives me hope that A, I am not alone and B, the world can be a better place. And I have to say, I really do believe both Ryan Reynolds and Hugh Jackman deserve the world.

For the first time in my life yesterday, I looked at myself and thought I look pretty. The FUCKING kicker is I did again this morning and I felt the same way. Maybe just a baby step, but it's a step in the right fucking direction mother fuckers. But, How did I get here (Yes, I'm pulling this shit on you).....

I have horrendous fear of endings and I finally learned....or accepted it's because it's symptomatic of my misery. Things like desperation, depression and anxiety can trick you into the allure of mistaking familiarity as comforting, even when it's hurting you. That you are far less that what you are actually and are deserving of far less than you actually do, that the consequences of our choices are proof that our pessimistic view is the whole of reality.

But, it's only half of the truth and that is the majesty of realism, seeing the glass is both half full and half empty. The best understanding of Pessimism, Optimism and realism can be explained in a quote by William Arthur Ward. Where the three are stuck out at sea on a sail boat,

"The Pessimist complains about the wind; the optimist expects it to change; the realist adjusts the sails."

To make the best choices in life you need to see every possibility and my heart goes out to those that are so blinded by pessimism, hope seems like fairy tale. I mean it's hard enough even if you can see things are possible but, it's still a bitch of an up road battle.

Which brings me to one of the most devastating ones in my life, the death of my dad. I always wondered how someone who seemed so sure of himself, could understand my pain so well. In hindsight I knew he had very hard life, it shouldn't have surprised me that he not only had crippling OCD, Anxiety but, depressions that at times reached suicidal ideations.

I was more my father's daughter than I realized, and took those fucking movie, to really appreciate what that meant.

Don't blindly accept things, ask questions.

If I had, I would've realized it's not that I don't care what others think, I'm really fucking depressed. And that's why I don't put effort in what I wear, or personal hygiene or wear make up. Never assume to know who you are, that's part of the majesty of life, that not knowing.

You never truly fail, until you give up.

For more clarity , I would like to add, some words of wisdom from a beloved science teacher,

"If at first you don't succeed, find out why"

Treat people fairly, across the board "Give people a chance"

To be sparingly coupled with, both

Trust your gut

This requires a lot of hard work, with self regulation and introspection. I've found DBT or Dialectical Behavioral Therapy to be very helpful. Which I must add the following because, I was wrongfully diagnosed with Autism (feeds into the dangers of acceptance). My therapist who diagnosed me ironically introduced to me the saving grace that is DBT. But, told me it wouldn't help me because I am autistic which she came to the conclusion based on ...

Flat Effect

Only developed when I hit puberty, the same time I developed depression and anxiety. People don't develop autism later on in their life, they are born with it.

Black and white thinking

If anything I think this is the problem with society and for anyone to say this about me, has obviously never heard me talk about anything. I found this utterly insulting

Anger prone

Repressed emotions and didn't start happening until 20's

Lack of Eye contact

I get really nervous around meeting new people, particularly if they stand really close to me for some fucking reason.  Once I get to know people I have no problem looking them in the eye.

Lack of Socialization

Low self-esteem brought on by my Depression

Social Anxiety and general Anxiety (fear of doing something wrong)

I actually do have a desire to socialize, but mistook relief after social based anxious episodes as me not liking it.

The same was done with someone very close to me, who was told they were Bipolar even though it didn't fit. They chose to trust they 're doctor, and was proven insanely wrong by they're new Doctor who aptly diagnosed them as having Borderline Personality and they are doing so much better.

Anyway I participated in a DBT group for about 16 weeks or so, one of which was diagnosed late in life with a form of autism. And the difference by the end of those weeks only strengthened my faith in DBT.

Don't start anything, but always finish

Don't go looking for a fight but, stand up for yourself when necessary, emphasis on necessary.

As long as people aren't hurting others or themselves, mind your own business

For some people this can be tricky, especially for those guided by their idealized narratives of the world. Again DBT can help with this in the grand scheme of things.

I mistakenly thought, that because I didn't seem to react how I would expect (bad assumptions) that I was fine. Even though, I was able to acknowledge that I was deeply depressed, which I was able to trace back to age 11, which for clarity was 20 years ago. Which fun fact I only discovered in my senior year of high school, followed by my anxiety a year later my first year of college. IT IS NEVER TOO LATE !!! EVEN IF YOU ARE GOING TO DIE TOMORROW!!! HAPPYNESS MAY NOT BE A CHOICE BUT THE PATH TO IT IS!!!

More In-depth analysis of how Hugh Jackman, Ryan Reynolds and Marvel factor into follow in follow up post. Because This post is too damn long, already. Thank you to those who read it all the way through , I wish you contentment.

[winkk-koo]

For me the ship appeal for shuangshui comes from the following:

Both of them are big brothers who'd do anything to protect their little siblings

If the roles were reversed HX would have done the same to save his sister

"Have you no remorse" if HX truly only hated him why would he care if swd felt bad about what he did? He's invested in the outcome and was desperate for an apology and acknowledgement of his feelings (which SWD only denied him because SQX was at risk)

HX saw SWD's face at death and that's what kept him bound to this world instead of passing on

After killing SWD, if HX was satisfied in his revenge his soul should have dissipated, but he's still here

You can argue this is bc of SQX, but ghosts can't change their obsession, or the resentment tying them to this world, and a ghost king has the strongest obsession of all

Shuangshui as a foil for hualian, basically what happens when you dedicate your existence to hate instead of love (which is, after all, the function of bw arc in the novel)

They don't have a chance in canon since it's very one sided, HX's obsession for a guy who doesn't even know who he is, but that's the tragic appeal of it, destroying the person you should have loved with your own hands, because you refused to understand your own heart, and dooming your soul to wander, unsatisfied, forever

And maybe if things had been different, Shi Wudu could have loved the soft, sensitive Scholar He, who would sacrifice it all for his sibling too

There's a lot of lost potential to explore, in another universe I would have loved to do laundry and taxes with you

Who is being so poetic in my asks!!!!!

Bro wrote amazing character analysis and expects to just get away with it

______________________________________

I really did not think of the actual meaning of both being water themed and why He Xuan Specifically chose this . And now that you say it i find it really interesting

Arrrh and the fact his calamity name is Black Water Sinking Ships when Shi Wudu does the same thing with ships that don't send him offerings before sailing 😭😭

He really copied that man he was supposed to hate everything about

(I also took a break from tgcf right after black water arc to start reading svsss so i didn't take into account that he might still be around. But thats really tragic he dedicated like 800? Years to his revenge and he wasn'teven satisfied with it and since the source of his suffering is basically gone he can't do anything about it now right)

I also- forgor to press "post" on this yesterday

[valle-de-sombra-de-muerte]

Homestuck Reread: Act 4, Part 2/4 (p. 1523-1668)

Read the previous post here.

Time to finish the first half of Act 4. I can't believe how long this is compared to the previous ones, and the upcoming Acts will only get more expansive from here on.

Rose has to be doing this on purpose. Using big words she knows John won't understand. She's stroking her own ego by acting intellectually superior to someone who might genuinely be mentally impaired.

Rose is still seething about Dave. John clearly has no idea what's going on between them and thinks she's perturbed by Dave being able to watch her constantly. But yeah nah, she's still bitter about how she barely survived entering the game (and jealous that Dave is schmoozing with Jade).

In Terezi's first appearance, she has nothing but animosity toward the humans. She even goes as far to say that she'll be pissed at them even when the rest of the trolls warm up to them. Uh huh. Strange how that part of her personality gets quickly swept off to the side.

Terezi used to be such a nasty, annoying edgelord and I kind of miss that about her. Her character progression is honestly all over the place, which I'll get into deeper as we move along.

Rose drinking the martini is framed as her making an "important decision [...] without supervision." There's something to be said about how one of the first things she decides to do as an independent person is try to emulate her mother. As the only adult presence in her life, Mom is her only frame of reference for how adults behave.

PM's brief encounter with Jack is fun. Jack is no-nonsense and knows his job inside and out. He's also determined to pursue every opportunity to avoid actually doing said job.

So much suspense is being built around this package. It's so important that PM is willing to betray her own kingdom for it. Of course, this all amounts to probably one of the worst reveals in the whole comic. There's no satisfaction upon learning what's in the box and as soon as the reveal happens, it's swiftly forgotten about. Yet there's so much narrative weight being assigned to it that I cannot even begin to fathom what Hussie's thought process was when writing this.

Dave and Jade spend several pages combining the alchemiter with the other Sburb devices. This is to condense everything into one space so the characters don't have to scurry from the different devices to craft items. But we haven't been seeing much scurrying lately since Hussie has been skipping over the crafting process anyway, probably because it's lengthy and repetitive. It may be convenient "in-universe" but I don't see what use this has from a storytelling perspective.

There's a reason "John do what I say" is a bit of a meme. Because he will follow commands no matter who's issuing them. Even if it's someone as unpleasant as Terezi.

Terezi is transparent in her motives. She is uninterested with what the rest of the trolls are doing and just wants to spread chaos in the kids' session, basically fucking around and finding out. John still decides to follow her directions because ????????

I might as well screencap the entire conversation between Dave and Rose here because it's great stuff. Rose puts on a sanctimonious act about killing the ogre she had just mercilessly thrashed, all to annoy Dave. This is the kind of back and forth I love to read.

Also note the metaphors Dave uses at the beginning. "whipping that ogre like a rented mule"? "sailing that ogre down the mississippi with a runaway slave"? Again, not to bring race discourse here, but I don't think he'd say that kind of stuff to Rose if she was black. If anything, he'd probably be more tasteless about the metaphors he's using. You know how teenagers can be.

Did he just call himself Rose's pimp? 😳

Hmm I wonder what might motivate Dave to give Kanaya bogus advice about winning over Rose. Between this and his earlier log where he turns the tables on Tavros, I do think it's interesting how Dave is shown to consistently out-troll the trolls. The key must be to not give a shit.

Dave calls Kanaya "bro" twice in this log and seems to mistake her as a man here. John will repeat this mistake later on. Kinda odd that the troll the fandom depicts as sultry and feminine is actually super stoic and awkward to the point where multiple characters think she is male.

I love how Rose is making passive-aggressive remarks about Dave to a total stranger. And calling him "that guy" as if he isn't living rent-free in her head.

Rose is getting a lot of joy out of using Tavros as a proxy to annoy Dave. She even offers to help him out in writing disses (because of course she'll jump at any opportunity to write).

I really love the ending of this log too.

Kanaya is a total dork in case it isn't clear already.

Tavros puts so much effort in his diss rhyme against Dave, but Dave's completely ignoring him to draw more SBaHJ. Tavros never attempts to troll Dave after this which, again, is a fucking disgrace.

Where is the version of Homestuck where Tavros is Dave's bumbling pupil in the slam poetry arts, constantly brushed off until Dave eventually (and reluctantly) decides to take him under his wing, if only to stop him from embarrassing himself? It would be a good role-reversal where Dave inherits Bro's position of the master instead of the student, and maybe get some perspective for why Bro was so dismissive and distant from him all the time.

I guess this kind of obvious character growth is too much of an advanced writing technique for Hussie to implement, so he didn't.

I like how Karkat starts off being a jerk but stops in his tracks because he too is a fan of cheesy movies. Also, I liked Serendipity. It's not great, but it might as well be a masterpiece compared to a lot of the garbage John likes.

Terezi's reaction makes it seem like she really wants to see Karkat's "bone lump." I can't imagine Karkat being outwardly flirty at all, so the idea that he may have expressed any kind of fondness for her must be something she has to read herself.

As a sprite, Jaspers' personality is like a cat voicing thoughts relating to his natural instincts. He focuses mostly on food and expressing affection toward Rose. Anything else he says, like information about the game, is stuff he says without any comprehension of what it means. It's like the game placed that knowledge in his mind and he just thoughtlessly repeats it. I do like that.

The closure Rose expected from Jaspers is about what one would expect (or at least, until her dream self awakens). I wonder what she really expected from asking a cat what it meant by meowing at her.

It only took over 1300 pages, but John has finally responded to one of Dave's messages. He does this in a very detached, oblivious manner, not mentioning the previous messages Dave sent him that he missed. He wants to skip all that time when Dave was in distress and ask only about the recent happenings upon his entry.

I feel bad for Dave, considering his "best friend" is pretty much a plank of wood. And not the fun kind of plank like in Ed, Edd n Eddy.

In what might be the most poignant page of the comic in my honest opinion, Dave and Rose have been trapped in this doomed timeline for four months. Dave is keen to stop wasting any further time and to go back to the past to reverse the actions that led to John's death, but Rose seems very reluctant to let him go. Her words are chosen to imply Dave might be too hasty and to suggest that he should stick around a little while longer "to gather information."

But that isn't the real aim of why Rose wants Dave to stay. She knows that as soon as he leaves, she will die. Trapped in a universe where she's the sole surviving human, it's a cold and lonely death she'll experience. Dave seems to know this too, but tries to assuage her worries by telling her not to think about her impending doom. Perhaps he also doesn't want to think about it, and that's why he wants to leave quickly so as not to dwell on how he's essentially condemning her to death.

But really, four months alone together as the last two humans in existence? That's a lot of off-screen time we aren't shown. And yet it's treated as this brief afterthought, a scene only used as a means to bring Davesprite into existence. I wish we could've seen more of this doomed timeline, more of Dave and Rose realizing their hopeless situation and the harrowing choice they ultimately need to make to set things right.

Yes, it's only a brief page that never gets brought up again, but it's one that sticks in my mind and refuses to leave.

John is being unreasonably (and uncharacteristically) obstinate here. Normally he has no problem following orders unless they place him in direct harm. Why does he trust Terezi so much over his supposed best friend? He ends the log suggesting that he'll listen to Dave, but the next page shows him blasting off anyway. What a prick.

People want to portray Terezi as some master strategist, but she really isn't. She's very single-minded and only ever considers outside information if it aligns with her set goal.

Remember when Terezi said she intended to stay pissed at all the kids forever? That didn't last long. And now through the power of memes, Davesprite has turned Terezi into a good guy now.

Considering how weak most of Homestuck's villains are, it's a real shame we lost out on one who was genuinely effective, engaging, and menacing so soon.

Oh, so I guess the Frog Temple really was "planted" when the meteor first hit Earth ages ago. I'm not sure how satisfied I am with this explanation.

[S] Jack: Ascend not only serves as a big flash to mark the midpoint for Act 4, but it also celebrates the fact that Homestuck turned one year old at this point.

Anyway, Jack's "Joker moment" is when the Queen force-femmed him. Just thought everyone should know that.

So if John's big "awakening" moment was about learning that his dad isn't really a clown, Rose's moment was triggered by being left all alone in a dead timeline and just waiting for the universe to extinguish her life. These are very comparable events! The fact that Rose's future dream self is shown to merge with her present self means that she likely remembers the events of the doomed timeline as well. What a nice load of trauma to be shouldered with!

Here we get the only time the box's contents have any real use: when it turns the Black Queen into soot and blood. Good to know that this MacGuffin only ever serves the villain in a meaningful capacity.

This part of the comic had some good moments, but I'm conflicted. When I revisit these "high points" in the story, I'm reminded of how Hussie never expands upon them and how they just end up as wasted potential. I fear this will set the mood for the remainder of this reread, which kinda sucks honestly. I'd much rather talk about more positive stuff and things I like, but they're few and far between with all the negativity surrounding them.

Read the next post here.

[little-annie]

Something More | Little_Annie

The smuty start to something more

TW homophobic language & threats

He's not gay. He's not.

But he'd be lying if he said his eyes didn't linger in the change rooms or on the court every once in a while.

But he'd be lying if he said there wasn't anything he found intriguing about other men. But it's just appreciation, that's all it is. He can appreciate Billy Hargrove's toned exterior, his tanned skin and piercing blue eyes. He can appreciate 'The Freak's,' slender frame, bouncy curls and deep chocolate gaze. Or Jake's biceps or Ethan's smile or Andrew's laugh. He can appreciate all of it, doesn't mean he's attracted to them. Doesn't mean he's gay. He can't be. He likes women.

He likes women so much he has a new one under his tongue weekly, sometimes even daily. He likes their soft skin, their gentle curves, their buttery moans. The way they wither and whine beneath him. The way they scream his name and claw his back.

But if he's being honest, it hasn't been enough lately. 

Who would've thought 'The King' would have issues getting off, let alone getting it up. He's found himself in that unfortunate scenario more often than he'd like to admit lately. Choosing to eat a girl out not only because he wants to but because he can't get hard enough to fuck her or lord forbid fake an orgasm because he can't get off and his mind is trying to wander to places he really doesn't want it to.

But those times when he does let his mind wander, well, then there's no problem at all. Smooth sailing. It's just that he's maybe imagining corded muscle and strong hands versus the delicate body and dainty touch he's experiencing.

He's not gay. He just needs more.

And well, maybe he has an idea on how to get more.

You see, he's heard rumours, saw the scribings on the bathroom stalls. He knows or at least he thinks he knows who he can go to for… more. Though his past assholery might make that a little difficult.

He wouldn't say he's proud of how he treats people; the geeks, the freaks, the band nerds. But it's not like he's the one doing it, he just doesn't say anything when it's Tommy or another jock being the asshole. As much as people make him out to be the bad guy, he just doesn't like conflict, doesn't want to get in the way, doesn't want to be the nuisance, doesn't want to step in front of it for the chance of a crushing blow to the side of his skull. Lord knows he gets enough of that at home.

So yeah, maybe when Tommy is sneering down at 'The Freak,' snarling slurs and ramming his head into the cold steel of the lockers, he doesn't say anything, only stands off to the side and avoids eye contact because he can't quite bring himself to intervene and can't quite bring himself to contribute to the abuse.

It's an unfortunate thing because he's pretty damn sure 'The Freak' is the only guy he can go to for 'more.' The guy the scribings in the bathroom stalls speak of, the guy the whispers in the halls talk about. The guy said to give the best head of your life if you go to the bleachers after school.

He's not gay. He just needs more.

And that desire for more leads him to the belly of the bleachers, waiting impatiently after the last bell rings to see a leather clad man with appreciable brown eyes and flowing hair. It's only a few minutes that Steve has to wait before he sees him, leather and black, thick silver rings and an air of attitude. The definition of more.

"The fuck are you doing here Rich Boy?"

He can't quite bring himself to respond to the man's teasing tone, doesn't think he's ever actually talked to 'The Freak.' His voice, syrupy and thick, forces a knot to twist behind Steve's navel. He winces at the sensation, watching the other man approach with a daunting stride of confidence. 

Why's his mouth so dry? 

"Hey Pretty Boy, I'm talking to you."

He's closer now and still, Steve can't bring himself to speak.

"Listen, I don't know what the fuck you think this is, but I really don't feel like getting my face beaten in today by some dumb jock. So if you're not here to buy drugs or participate in other nefarious activities that I shall not name in your company, you can kindly fuck off."

Steve swallows around the nerves bubbling in his throat, can't quite pinpoint why he's so nervous. It's just 'The Freak', 'The Drug Dealer' the supposed 'Best Blowjob Giver in All of Hawkins.' Well maybe it's the latter, maybe that point is a little daunting. Or maybe it's that fact that his skin crawls with something akin to need, something that flares hot and heavy in his core when said 'Freak' steps into his space to snarl, "What the fuck do you want?"

"More?" He whispers, it's a quiet shaky thing, nearing on a question he sounds so unsure of his single muttered word.

'The Freak's' brows pinch together, his mask of confidence and aggression slipping for a second before he moves, devilish smirk across his lips, a single ringed finger catching under Steve's chin to turn his gaze up as he whispers, "Don't tell me 'The King of Hawkins High' is a queer, coming to lil' ole me for something his pretty little women can't give him."

Well, that problem he seems to have in the bedroom, yeah, um, it's currently a problem for another reason right now. His jeans are painfully tight. It's damn embarrassing the way this fucking guy is affecting him. The smell of leather, weed and cheap cologne. The cold sting of metal pressed under his chin, holding his head high to meet hauntingly dark eyes. His attitude, the snarl and the grit in his voice.

He can't manage words, only gulps, Adam's Apple bobbing around a non existent sentence. But his face must give something away, if the way 'The Freak' draws an eyebrow up and darkly chuckles is anything to do by.

"No shit, hey? I'd say I'm surprised, but I'm not really. I see the way your eyes wander in the change room or linger just a little too long over Hargrove's ass. I'm not fucking blind Pretty Boy, just didn't think you'd have it in you is all."

"I do," Steve says out of absolutely nowhere. Where did that come from? That whiny, needy, nearly begging tone. 

He's not gay but 'The Freak' is kinda making him weak in the knees. 

God if the man's expression doesn't shift to something predatory at Steve's tone. It makes him needy, anxious, fucking desperate like he's never been before. 

The finger that was once resting under his chin, moves to the back of his head, a large hand skating through his hair until it grips tight and gives a sharp pull forcing a rather embarrassing gasp to slip past his lips.

Dark eyes sear into his own as the other man speaks, "You listen and you listen fucking good. If this is all a ploy for your jock buddies to catch me in the act and beat me half to death for being a 'fucking fag,' know that I won't hesitate to shove a knife into your pretty little side." Punctuating his words with another sharp tug, he continues, "Got it?"

Steve nods, because what else can he do, he's speechless, hot, desperate and painfully horny. This is the definition of more and he's fucking weak for it. The grip in his hair is the only thing keeping him grounded as much as it's the same thing threatening to send him into orbit.

Another sharp tug, "Words."

"Got it," Steve chokes out, words mostly all air and heat.

'The Freak's' eyes search Steve's for a moment, probably looking for sincerity or the hint of a lie, but he must find what he's looking for because no less than a few short seconds later, Steve feels the grip in his hair tighten and a hand tightly clasp his hip,"Good. Now how about you get on your knees Sweetheart."

It's not a question, it's a command and Steve's gut twists with nerves. He wasn't expecting this. Not for him to be on his knees. He opens his mouth to protest but he's cut off with another sharp tug to his hair, encouraging him towards the ground, "Oh Honey, you weren't thinking you'd get off today were you? You've been a right prick to me for the last three years. Gotta make up for that if you want anything from me."

He's not Gay but he's a weak man and he drops to his knees with crushing force, face turned up, waiting for his next command.

"Look at you, being such a Good Boy for me already. Who woulda thought. 'The King' on his knees for 'The Freak." The man combs ringed fingers gently through Steve's hair, "I hate to say it, but you're quite pretty on your knees for me Rich Boy."

Never in his life had Steve Harrington been on his knees for a man. But god dammit if it doesn't get him going. His normally too soft cock is straining against the denim of his jeans, rubbing painfully along the seam. He attempts to swallow the whimper that the sensation shakes out of him.

Needless to say, he's unsuccessful.

'The Freak' smirks, sharp teeth and a dangerous smile, "You've never sucked a dick before have you Pretty Boy?"

Steve shakes his head, fighting the need to bury his nose in the prominent bulge in front of his face. Nerves and need swarm in his core but all he can manage is a desperate stare, no words, just hazel eyes looking up to the man above him. Waiting for instruction.

He looks contemplative for a moment, brown eyes searching Steve's face once again before he says, "Keep your hands to yourself. Behind your back. And do as you're told or we're done. Understand?"

Steve obliges, nodding wordlessly, moving his hands to clasp behind his back. 

The other man leans down, a near terrifying glint in his eye while his grip in Steve's hair tightens, a sharp tug pulling him back to make eye contact while he growls, "I said: Understand?"

He doesn't know what comes over him, a needy whimper leaving his lips as absolutely mortifying words follow, "Yes Sir."

'The Freak' darkly chuckles against Steve's cheek, lightly biting the now rosy flesh before he whispers, "Good Boy."

Oh. 

Oh wow.

Yep. That does something to him.

He's not gay…But having 'The Freak' call him a Good Boy and in that fucking tone…Well…

Steve stifles another groan watching as the man stands upright, moving to unfasten his stupid handcuff belt buckle with practised ease. 

He speaks with a seriousness as he continues his motions, "As much as I fucking hate you, I'm not going to make you do anything you don't want to, because frankly that's just disgusting." He stops his motions, belt undone, button unclasped and zipper down, his cock's nearly on display and Steve's mouth waters with the need to feel its weight on his tongue, "You know the Stoplight System?"

Steve whispers a quiet "No."

"Figured," 'The Freak' says with no malice to his tone, "There's Green, Yellow and Red. Just like a Stoplight you follow the same rules. Green means go, yellow means yield or slow down and red means stop. You can communicate colours anytime you need to. But when I ask you questions or for your colour, you respond accordingly. Got it?"

Steve nods

The other man asks, "Colour?"

"Green," Steve answers with a heat rising to his cheeks, his knees already beginning to burn from where they're resting in the rough soil.

And god dammit if that doesn't make 'The Freak' smile, "Good," he says, carding his fingers gently through Steve's hair, "and if your mouth's full Sweetheart. You tap out your colours. One for green, two for yellow and three for red. Okay?"

Steve nods again while the other man wordlessly moves the hand that was in Steve's hair down his cheek so it's resting on his jaw. Fingers holding light, his thumb brushes over Steve's bottom lip gently pressing it into the wet heat of his mouth. Steve hums around the intrusion, instinctively running his tongue over the tip and hollowing his cheeks. 

'The Freak' hums in approval, pressing down with the lightest pressure against Steve's tongue, "Colour?"

Slowly Steve moves his hand to the man's wrist, porcelain skin cool under his warm touch, he taps gently, once, 'Green.'

"Good, now you're ready." 

From there it's pretty straightforward, Steve knows how a blowjob goes, he's gotten many in his lifetime, but still, on the other end of this, it feels kinda foreign. At least with the instruction to keep his hands out of the mix he doesn't have to worry about what to do with those.

He watches as the other man pulls his hearty length from his boxers, thick and leaking and he can't help but feel a swell of pride in his chest knowing he did that. His mouth waters at the sight and wordlessly he drops his jaw and lays his tongue out flat.

"Eager are we?"

Steve hums an affirmative, inching closer on his knees.

He'd be lying if he said the sight before him wasn't doing anything to him. Christ, he hasn't been this hard in months, almost painfully throbbing in his jeans with need. He isn't gay but well… he's something.

The other man takes his own length in hand, ringed fingers wrapping around a thick base, tight curls pressed against the curl of his palm. It's warm and salty when the head of it slaps against Steve's tongue, a taste he'll savour like it's the nectar of the gods.

He's being impatient and he knows it, a needy whine escaping his throat he inches even closer. He doesn't know what's gotten into him but before he knows it he's choking, struggling to breathe as he pushes his head all the way forward, trying to bury his nose in dark curls. 

The man above him chuckles around a gasp, voice almost shakey. Hand clasped tight in Steve's hair he pulls him back, "Don't hurt yourself there Princess. Breathe through your nose and swallow when you feel like you're going to choke."

Steve nods, his motions pulling on the grip on his scalp and he tries again, a hot coil of need blooming in his core as the man above him lets out a sharp gasp. With the little instruction he's managed to take all of the man in, swallowing around the length, thick head pressing down his throat. His nose is buried in the thick thatch of hair and he can't help but nuzzle into it with a greedy inhale. Sweat and musk and something that makes his toes curl wafts through his senses.

Steve hums around 'The Freak's' length in his own appreciation, the vibration travelling through the other man's body in a wave of pleasure. The grip in his hair tightens and Steve can't help but whimper at the sensation and good god he nearly combusts when he opens his eyes to take in the man above him. 

Hair wild, dark and rolling in waves over his shoulders, gathering in the streams of sweat along his neck. Cheeks flushed in a rosy hue of need, a rather beautiful contrast to his pale porcelain skin. His brows are creased, lip bitten and eyes squeezed shut. 

It's obvious he's trying to stay quiet, though he's failing miserably. Steve continues to watch him from below, eyes open and watering as he chokes down every inch. He pulls back and off with a dramatic 'pop', diving right back in to nose his way under the man's cock and take what he can of his testicles in mouth.

It's a weird feeling being on this end of things, generally he has no idea what he's doing but he can't hold in the carnal need to make the man above him crumble. Steve feels nearly desperate, his cock painfully straining against the seam of his jeans for what feels like eternity. Fuck, if this goes on for much longer he might just come in his pants.

And wouldn't that be fucking embarrassing.

Steve continues his ministrations while trying to focus on anything other than the balls in his mouth or the cock hanging heavy above his face. He focuses on the grip in his hair, the bite of gravel against his knees, the throbbing pain between his legs. Nothing works, it's just too fucking good.

He takes the man back in his mouth after licking a thick stripe from root to tip and begins bobbing his head. A sinful wash of sounds pollutes the air, gasps and moans and shaky breaths. Wet squelches and muffled gags. Steve's sure he contributes his own noises as he rocks his hips against the seam in his jeans.

The taste of precome continues to flood over Steve's taste buds, salty and sweet and god dammit if he doesn't become addicted to it. Addicted to the taste of this man's essence on his tongue, the sounds that escape his lips, the way he looks as he approaches the edge.

Above Steve, 'The Freak's' babbling, gasping around moans and hardly formed words, "mmm fuck, ho- how are you so good at this?" He chuckles an unbelieving laugh that's drowned out by a choked back moan as Steve takes him down to the hilt. "Jesus H Christ." He gasps, grip tightening in Steve's hair. 

Every syllable sends Steve careening towards the edge along with the man. He's close, every roll of his own hips, every sharp tug against his scalp, every moan from the man above. 

But god dammit he still needs more.

Steve pulls off, a quick gasp of air and spit and precome hanging between them. 'The Freak' looks down at him with a brow raised and he's beautiful, looks absolutely wrecked, onyx eyes blown wide, face flushed red with his pending release and before he can say anything, Steve asks or more or less begs, "Fuck my face, please."

"Fuck," the man huffs before he checks, "You sure?"

Steve nods, "Please."

"Jesus Christ." He huffs once again before laying his cock over Steve's tongue once again, then he's snaking his other hand into Steve's hair, giving him an experimental pull forward.

Steve's eyes flutter in response, the man's thick length sliding slowly over his tongue and down his throat. He can't help the whine that rattles up his throat.

"You like that or something Sweetheart?"

Steve hums again, moving his hand to the man's wrist to tap once, 'Green' and he chances to leave it there. He'd be lying if he said he didn't want to feel more of this man under his touch.

They continue from there, 'The Freak' pressing his length over Steve's tongue until they're both leaking and shaking with the need of release. 

Gravels digs into his knees and his scalp burns in such a beautiful way, Steve's hanging off the edge by his fingertips and he's only pushed that much further as the man above him gasps, "Wh-Where - fuck - mm- can I come in your mouth Baby?" 

Baby

Baby. Baby. Baby.

Steve fails to hold back a groan at not only the question but also the nickname, it vibrates down the other man's length while he tightens his grip on a pale wrist and taps once, 'Green.' 

For some reason in that moment Steve feels compelled to slide his hand into his own hair, lacing his fingers between thick rings and hard earned calluses, holding his hair tight, together. He's not shrugged off like he thought he would be and for some reason, that's the moment they both topple over the edge.

Salt and heat floods Steve's taste buds at the same time it does his underwear. Warm and slick, exiting his body with force. He groans something needy and desperate, bucking his hips forward as his mouth is pulled closer, nose pressed to pubes. The man above him gasps and bucks his hips forward with force, shuddering while squeezing Steve's fingers between his own.

Steve swallows, or at least tries to -god, now he kinda gets why girls hate that so much- he pulls off with a sharp inhale and presses his head the a denim clad thigh, spitting on the ground between them.

It's oddly tender for what it is, 'The Freak's' hands don't leave his hair, his grip only loosens and gently cards through mousy strands as they catch their breath together. 

Steve's exhausted but satisfied; probably for the first time in months and all he had to do was blow a guy. Nothing even happened to him other than some nicknames that made his stomach flutter and some not so awkward hand holding. 

They stay silent for a long while, Steve feels like he might fall asleep leaning against this man and it's an odd thing that he feels comfortable here, safe even. And that's a fucking wild thought, especially with a dick dripping come not more than a few inches from his face.

Steve can't help but chuckle at the thought.

"What?" The other man laughs quietly, tucking himself back in his jeans, standing upright, trying to help Steve do the same.

Steve shakes his head, burying it in the other man's shoulder. He can feel him tense beneath him and then seconds later slowly there's cautious arms wrapping around his shoulders, slow and soft while he continues to shake in silent laughter.

They stand there in what should be an awkward moment, but it's not and maybe that's the craziest part about this whole moment.

Steve Harrington knows this man from brash gestures and yelled opinions from atop lunch room tables. From the smell of leather and the clatter of chains. He's supposed to be weird and scary, he's supposed to be 'The Freak,' but for some reason Steve sees him as something else. 

He sees him as more.

They're quiet for a moment and in those few short seconds a wild thought passes through Steve's mind. He pulls back, ever so slightly, only enough to meet the other man's eyes. He takes in the man's gaze, dark and speckled with amber, the freckles that dust over his nose and cheeks, the faint scar across his bridge and then he allows his eyes to wander lower.

Pink and perfect and beautiful, lips he wants to kiss with every fibre in his being. Steve sucks in a subtle breath letting his eyes float back up to meet those of the man before and like a silent gesture, he glances at his lips again as he whispers, "Colour?"

He watches sharp teeth bite into a pink bottom lip as he feels the grip around him tighten and then there's a subtle, hardly audible whisper, "Green."

[blatterpussbunnyfromhell]

Did Silver kill Flint?

I keep seeing cold ass takes in the Black Sails side of tumblr that make my blood boil.

Look, I got into Black Sails in 2017, three weeks after the finale aired. Back then, there seemed to be an understanding that the "Silver killed Flint" interpretation was just a fringe theory from straight people made uncomfortable by the queer lead getting a happy ending. Personally, it was my first encounter with the phrase "unbury your gays" (having learnt "bury your gays" a year earlier with The 100). It seemed to be generally accepted that Flint lived, and that this was the whole point.

Now, it would appear that a shift has happened in the fandom, where the idea of Silver killing Flint is no longer treated as a theory by straight weirdos but as a canon, onscreen event, and these posts come from queer fans. It seems to come from younger fans who were about 12 or 13 in 2017. It's so mindboggling to me.

The arguments for this Silver-Killed-Flint thing is usually the same two: birds flying away and Silver's men turning around in the forest, as in reaction to a noise, which is interpreted as a gunshot.

Like, I'm just elaborating on a rant I sent to my friends earlier today here but, if Silver killed Flint, then :

Why would we be shown an entire sequence with one of Silver's henchmen looking for Thomas where he is?

If Thomas and Flint are dead, why aren't we shown their deaths? It's an actual rule in cinema that a character whose death isn't shown on screen isn't dead, a rule that the show does follow (we see Billy's funeral but not his corpse). Besides, Black Sails doesn't shy away from showing death on screen, even for main characters. Then, why not show how Thomas died instead of telling us? Why not show us Silver shooting Flint? The writers trust their viewers to understand the pattern, and understand that the reason we do not see their deaths is because they aren't dead.

Why would Silver bring up Thomas to Flint if he'd planned on killing him? Or if, as I've also seen it said, it was just a lie he made on the spot for Madi ?

And talking about Madi, I've seen A LOT of people saying she would never forgive Silver. And to that I genuinely have to ask, have you seen their last appearence in the show? I dont mean their argument in the cabin, I mean the scene where Silver sits on top of a hill and turns around to find Madi waiting for him on the path. I mean the scene where he walks towards her and she waits for him. So, my question here, if she wasn't gonna forgive Silver, why is she waiting for him on that hill? Nevermind the fact that Treasure Island's Long John Silver is in a relationship with a Black woman (I've seen posts saying that could be Max, and really wtf??), what is the point of showing us this scene if she's not gonna forgive him? Why not stop their arc at the cabin where she sends him away?

At the time when Black Sails' finale aired, Supernatural was still queerbaiting its audience, and Sherlock ended in a fucking shitshow. People were throwing fits over Bill Potts, Doctor Who's first ever onscreen lesbian companion because she was a lesbian with a masculine name. A year before that, The 100, a very popular tv show at the time, had just killed it's only lesbian character and faced so much uproar and backlash for it. (That was my entry into the LGBT+ community, by the way : the first character to make me think I might actually like women getting killed on screen two scenes after having had sex with the female lead). Sense8's two-hour long finale and Love, Simon wouldn't air for another year.

So yeah, if you weren't into queer media back in 2017 (and omg I sound like such an old twat), I don't think you can understand just how important that ending, with Flint being reunited with the love of his life after so much pain and loss, was.

If your interpretation of Black Sails is that the events of Treasure Island happened the way the book tells you, then I'm sorry to tell you this but you completely missed the point of the show.

[calamitaswrath]

Cal Lucia plays Fire Emblem Path of Radiance: Chapter 21

I haven't really commented on it yet, but I just love the CG illustrations in this game. Those looks just amazing, and this current one of Daien castle in particular. I wonder if there are any higher resolution versions of these online?

Ah, Ena is supposed to be female? Either way, that's gender right there, I have to say.

Ohhh, we're getting into Ashnard's motivation for the entire war and the actual politics of the whole thing! That's actually super interesting stuff there, I have to say.

You know, for a random chapter boss, that's a great amount of characterization for this guy who's gonna be fighting alongside Ena.

Soren being a bit of a bitch again, but he is speaking truth about the realities of war to Elincia. I can only reiterate, I can tell why he's divisive in the fandom, but so far I still think he's interesting. Especially since I still don't know what his deal is exactly.

Base conversation with a refugee. . . for something that started with a gag about Ike getting mistaken for a bodyguard, this one got heavy. More talking about how Jill's father was a good man, and the people of Daien developing a hatred for Crimea.

Only other base conversation is about Ike and Mist talking about the loss of the medallion, and how it affects her. Hah, guess I got it at least somewhat right when I wrote that oneshot fic in that the thing means a lot to Mist. And Nasir having a bad conscious! Guess it won't be long now before I find out what his deal is.

Decided to go for Reyson and Tanith's C support. Not much there in terms of content, but it's interesting enough, I suppose.

Big map with many treasure chests and doors. Reyson and Sothe are gonna be spending a lot of time together here.

So it was smooth sailing for most of the map. . . up until I got to the very end, where that enemy mage put Ike to sleep. Just as Tauroneo was getting aggroed. That took me a few more turns to navigate around, but at least I managed to resolve it and recruit Tauroneo.

Speaking of whom, decently interesting character! I suppose he probably won't have support conversations with Ike or Mist, but I hope that there will be at least some base conversations to be had with him.

. . .And I really should have figured that there'd be a catch with Ena not having a ranged attack. This gender af girl has a ridicilous amount of HP - and none of my characters have any weaponry on them that deals bonus damage against Laguz. In the end, I got her down to an HP range where she uses her elixir all three times, with the last one being especially clutch because if she had not done that, then she'd have killed Nephenee and forced me to reset the map. In the end, I got Ike to land the finishing blow with the Brave Sword I got on this map and with him activating Aether.

There's the payoff for Nasir being the spy! Or at least a bit of it. There's bound to be more. But if I'm reading this right, then the person that Ena is siding with Ashnard for isn't Nasir, so. . . who else? I half remember Ashnard having a wyvern that's a permanently transformed Laguz or something, so maybe it's that? Rajajon I think his name was.

Speaking of Ashnard - Fire Emblem namedropped, roll credits! More interestingly though, talk of the Black Knight abducting Leanne and Petrine having to put in some work for her failures. With Nasir telling Ike that they should head to a temple, that's three plot points introduced now. I wonder if they're all gonna resolved be in the same chapter?