#i want to have a conversation about this so if anyone has any thoughts or anything about the topic of enjoying things in a modern

[slurmpinheimer]

from @cyber-harpie !! spit that shit homie!! I thought this deserved to be seen because it brings up a lot interesting points—and I do agree with this, though it got me thinking again. I would like to add a few things to my initial statement because analysis and talking about Kim is fun;

(WARNING: MAJOR KIM-RELATED YAPPAGE BELOW)

I’ve watched several play throughs where (especially at the beginning of the game/if they have low psyche) people aren’t sure of Kim, or even go so far as to call him annoying, a buzzkill, or an asshole. At first I found myself getting really defensive about this. Obviously not to the point that I made any hate comments or anything, that would be silly— But just in my head, automatically dismissing it because I love him and didn’t want to hear it. I couldn’t imagine anyone disliking him, instead of thinking deeper and considering *why* people might come to these conclusions.

I believe the bits we get from Esprit and Empathy support my initial point that Harry is the perfect narrative device to meet Kim through. If I remember correctly, Kim was written specifically to find Harry funny, and Harry’s skills let us see that. and that’s IF you succeed the checks, or if you’re dedicated enough to save scum to see other possibilities/go through Fayde to see what other options might have held.

Like, before I learned about the end of the Homosexual Underground thought line, I certainly had my suspicions. I definitely thought Kim was at least queer-coded and headcanoned him as gay, but that thought trail is behind a legendary Composure check that I spent like 10 full minutes save-scumming. I had low motorics on my first run, and I only tried so hard because I had been spoiled and knew that it gave a thought called “Homosexual Underground” and needed to see where that led with my own eyes.

That’s just one example too—There’s several times that Kim Lore is behind hard checks (Ace’s High/Low, that tidbit about him smoking weed lol) or things he just refuses to elaborate on without specific circumstances. Plus there’s all the stuff that you can learn when you play a different quest line. I’ve had several people tell me that going through a fascist ends up with Kim actually being pretty open about things you don’t learn about in other questlines. I don’t even know all the details of that yet because I’ve been so busy doing the other quests and achievements that I haven’t finished a fascist run yet.

My thought process with all this is that without seeing Kim through the lens Harry, who works with him almost constantly for a week straight in a situation where deep and meaningful conversation is not just encouraged but *needed* to build a repertoire and ultimately solve the case��Not to mention the patience and care Kim treats Harry’s situation with—I can see how someone would look at Kim from the outside and find him to be… (anguish at typing out this word) …mid.

So yeah. On the surface level; Kim is a cop. He can be condescending and uptight, sometimes leading into lecturing people (something he himself admits). He plays his cards close to his chest, with both his moralist beliefs and even more so his sympathies for the rebellion—Which can make him look a bit like a fence sitter. He can be emotionally unavailable towards himself and others, making him hard to read and sometimes appear cold.

But past that, he is a beautifully crafted, deep character, and the perfect foil to the chaos that is Harry. He is the man that reaches out to shake your hand even though you ghosted him two days prior. He will pat you and give you a handkerchief when you throw up. He can be the man that sticks up for you time and time again, not just because he needs to in order to solve the case, but because if you really try, he believes you’re a good detective at heart. Past suicidal rants and nervous breakdowns, he encourages you to keep going.

He has been beaten down, ground and polished to a smooth finish by mutiple facets of oppression—from his glasses, to his race, his sexuality, all fundamental parts of himself that he cannot change. From years of working in a high-pressure, volatile work environment with low pay and little benefits other than the small satisfaction of completing a case, only to dive headfirst into the next one.

He pushed aside his lofty dreams of the skies to be down with the rest of us in the dirt and mud, trudging, struggling through life until we all inevitably burn away the fuel reserves and are nothing but smoke, a memory in the mind of fire.

Beyond that carefully constructed exterior, past his wall of professionalism (and habit of using his notebook as a shield) hides a goofy nerd, a lover of crosswords and cars, of silly radio stations, and a deep appreciation for beautifully bearded muscular men. He is an expert user of sarcasm and master of cryptic jokes, some even philosophical or political in nature. At his core, he wants to make things better for the people around him. He wants to believe he can make a difference, no matter how long it takes or how small the change is. Even if working for the RCM destroys him before he can see it come to fruition.

He is wonderful. He is amazing. He’s probably my favorite character all of fiction, and I don’t think there will ever be a day in my life that I stop loving him. That’s pookie you’re talking about. I’ll always have space in my heart for him.

He will live on as long as we do, as real as The Man From Hjemdall is to Roy because Disco Elysium *made* him real, handcrafting him, giving him life between margins and pixels. And that is worth everything.

Kim Kitsuragi is a fascinating character because there's not that much fun or interesting or compelling about him. And yet somehow over the course of playing Disco Elysium the game rewires your fucking brain around him. He's the middest man you've ever seen in both appearance and personality but at some point he says something kind to you or something critical of you and you feel like you just got hit by a truck and you need his approval like you need oxygen and like how tf did this happen. what are you

[cheapshrimpysheep]

Hiii!! is it okay if I request a comfort(?) scenario/headcanons with Vil, Idia, Malleus and Lilia where a female protagonist feels self-conscious about having stretch marks and/or cellulite, thanks (Sorry if it's not spelled well, English is not my native language)

COMMENTS: So... even though I myself am a woman, I genuinely never saw stretch marks or cellulite as something bad or ugly, and I still don't. So maybe making the characters share the same vision as me would be accurate? The only exception to complete indifference is Vil, but not in the way you might be thinking.

Btw, I didn't see any point in writing this in a context other than an already advanced relationship given the topic. Fortunately, the 4 characters are 18 years or older so it doesn't end up being... you know, too weird.

I explain at the end why I couldn't write anything for Malleus or Lilia. But despite that, I hope you and all like what I managed to write. ❤️

CHARACTERS: Vil Schoenheit / Idia Shroud

TAGS: Fluff; Fem!Reader; Comfort; In a Relationship; Suggestive(?)

WORD COUNT: An average of 580 words per character

CONTEXT: I don't think it would make sense for two people to have this kind of intimate conversation outside of a romantic or even sexual relationship. So in that situation, he and you would be in a relationship.

This was an insecurity of yours from the beginning. After all, your boyfriend was none other than Vil Schoenheit. It would be worrying enough if he were a normal model, but he's not only a super model but one of the biggest in all of Twisted Wonderland.

He had already noticed that since you started dating you seemed more worried and less confident about your appearance and that was when he said to you:

“I am the one who needs to be perfect, not you. If I wanted to date a model I could do it, but my standards in romantic relationships are others. Different from some of my colleagues in this field. I will always help you to further improve your image if you wish and feel comfortable with it. Please don't see this as me wanting you to change your appearance, but as an attempt to make you as beautiful on the outside as you are on the inside.” He pauses for a second. “However, for some reason, there's something that bothers me about the possibility of making you start living the same lifestyle as me.”

But he would only get the answer to why that bothered him later.

“The truth is: you are my escape. I don't feel the pressure to be perfect with you because... you know I'm not and yet you look at me with more admiration than anyone else. You are my escape from the superficial and futile parts of my professional life. When you live in these types of environments, you start to lose track of what really matters and what really does you good. Thinking about you being swallowed up by this... and losing your genuine smile... because of me... I can't allow it! Please know that no opinion about your appearance matters other than your own. And it wasn't just that that made me fall in love.”

This may have made you feel more comfortable and confident about your appearance again, but as the relationship became more serious and you became more intimate, eventually your problem with stretch marks and cellulite began to affect your mood again.

At home, Vil had massage sessions from time to time not only to help him relax but also for other healthy effects it had on his body. He thought that now that he was dating you, maybe it would be interesting for him to buy massage products and for you to start having these sessions with each other.

“You deserve a massage probably even more than I do.” He tells you, referring to the hardships you go through with Grim and the others.

And that's when he realizes from your hesitation that something about your appearance has bothered you again. He asks you to tell him and that you can trust him. After all, if you couldn't, what kind of boyfriend would he be? And you end up talking about your stretch marks and cellulite.

“I see.” He says understandingly. “I've never had them myself, but I've met many women in the beauty industry who talk about it to each other. Not to mention the advertisements for products for it. Do you remember what I told you when we first started dating and you felt less confident about your appearance? I am the one who needs to be perfect, not you. Furthermore, from what I understand, these marks are usually found on areas around the stomach, hips, breasts, and thighs.” He looks at you seductively. “You don't really think I would have any kind of criticism if you gave me the honor of seeing these parts of your body, do you? Why don't you let me give you that massage? I'll show you what I truly find beautiful about you.”

At first you didn't even think about it. It was only when the relationship started to get more serious and you started to sleep together from time to time that you started to worry.

Especially when Idia started having less of a problem walking around you shirtless. And giving hints about how he would like to see you wearing his shirts, without pants.

One day he says he wants to acknowledge the elephant in the room, but instead of asking why you hide your body so much, he asks if you still don't consider him worthy of seeing his girlfriend comfortably sexy.

“You never hid the fact that you like to see me shirtless.” He says while playing some game on the computer. “I also want to see you like that. Not necessarily shirtless, that's another level, but like, you know I don't like to embody the confident handsome guy who likes to walk around with little clothing on." His hair starts to turn hot pink.” But... I like how you look at me when I do. And what you say. Which I never understood ‘cause I don't even have good physics. But you do! You would be that character that every player simps for.” He sinks into his chair. “But I understand, getting that kind of look from me is disgusting...”

You may have your insecurities, but he has them too. And finally you feel the need and the comfort enough to reveal to him that that isn’t the problem, that you would also like him to find you hot as you find him and that the problem is your marks.

“What marks? Like scars? Don't tell me you have cool battle scars, like doesn't that make a person even sexier?”

You say you're not talking about scars, but stretch marks and cellulite.

“... Yah... sorry, I think I rolled a natural 1 in intelligence for this. What was that again?”

You say they are marks, irregularities and dimples in the skin and that he can search them on the internet. He does that.

“It says that these are natural things that don't do any harm. But they can impact self-image.” He researches a little more. “Wait! Are you trying to tell me that you find these strips and irregularities ugly enough to the point that you have to hide them? THIS?” He smiles mockingly “Oh no! How horrible! Your skin looks like... skin! What a tragedy!”

He will be very happy if you can laugh with him.

“As if I would even notice that. It says here that these marks are usually found on areas around the stomach, hips, breasts, and thighs. Do you really think that if I saw these parts of your body it would be little stripes and dimples that would catch my attention?” The pink in his hair becomes more intense. “I may be a shut-in but don't lump me in with those worms who define their standards based on adult videos. I can assure you that's not what you'll have to worry about if you take your clothes off in front of me.”

He finally looks at you with a seductive look and smiles confidently when he sees that you are flustered.

I really really really tried to imagine scenarios with Malleus or Lilia, but I couldn't think of anything very meaningful.

Malleus wouldn't understand the problem even if you tried to explain it to him because... it doesn't make sense to him. They're just marks. He also has marks, like, on his forehead. Is there something wrong with this?

And Lilia would just laugh for you thinking this is a problem and just tell you to forget about it.

They wouldn't understand, because it wouldn't make any difference to them at all. And that's it.

With Vil and Idia I was able to think of something because they are, like, from this generation, and because one is in the beauty industry and the other is, probably, chronically online, they can see where your insecurity comes from. But for someone like Malleus or Lilia, this type of insecurity has no basis whatsoever. I really don't know what to write with them.

Sorry. 🥺

If you dropped in here out of the blue and want to read more from me, you can find it in my pinned post: INDEX

[cardansriddle]

Bound by the Ball- Tom Riddle x Fem!Reader

Summary: Tom is determined to make you his date to the ball. The only problem? You have a boyfriend—and you absolutely cannot stand Tom Riddle.

warnings: banter. like a lot of banter. sexual tension. tom threatening reader to get his way? 5.5k words i got carried away :)

A/N: I know i disappeared from the face of earth, but got inspired to write this one this week. Love u all, hopefully I won't go MIA for too long again (i probably will).

༻♛༺

Unattainable was not a word in Tom Riddle's dictionary.

He had never bothered to familiarise himself with the word. Why would he? If Tom Riddle was to be described with one word, it would be determined. Had he decided to set his sight or mind on something, he would go to any length to obtain it. He had sicarded the notion of "impossible" long ago.

So it came as a slap in the face when what he thought the easiest of attainable things, became not so easy. Truthfully, Tom had not even wanted a date for the stupid ball in the first place. However, when the Headmaster insisted that the Head Boy must have a date, it was not as if Tom had any choice in the matter. He had begrudgingly began his search. His requirements for his date were simple: Not dimwitted, an adequate dancer, and witty enough to keep up with him.

He was mentally going over the checklist when the sound of his name amongst excited chatter broke his reverie.

"Have you heard? Apparently Riddle is looking for a date for the dance."

The wizard halted and slowed his steps so he could listen to the conversation of the girls in front of him. The redhead squealed at the information.

"No!" She said in disbelief. "Imagine being asked by the Tom Riddle to the ball." The girl sighed as if imagining the scenario in her head. The wizard was suppressing his urge to smirk when suddenly the witch who had been silent all through the entire exchange scoffed out a laugh.

"Would not wish that misfortune on anyone."

The redhead gasped, affronted. "Misfortune? Have you hit your head? It is Riddle we are talking about. The charming, smartest boy in the school Riddle?"

"He might be the smartest wizard in Hogwarts but he has the emotional intelligence of a rock."

The two girls beside you gasped your name in unison but you brushed them off with a chuckle.

"I suppose you think your Montague is better?" The redhead giggled again and the other witch joined her in what Tom realised to be their teasing.

He watched your profile as you rolled your eyes at their antics. "At least Montague has human emotions and is not stone cold. The only thing Riddle has feelings for is his textbooks."

"Yeah, the only emotion Montague shows is drooling after you like a lovesick puppy."

The ginger was quick to correct her friend. "Hungry dog you mean."

"I am not saying he is perfect. He is handsome enough and has the approval of my family. That should suffice."

The redhead groaned audibly. "Ah, yes! The traits which define the very notion of romance!" She exclaimed sarcastically. Before you could retort, Tom's attention was pulled to the call of his name.

"Oi! Riddle!"

Tom abruptly halted in his steps, the echo of his name reverberating down the dimly lit hallway. A low curse escaped his breath as he realized the three girls in front of him had also come to a stop, their shoulders tensed with anticipation. He turned his head sharply to find Lestrange hurrying towards him with determined steps. When the younger boy finally stood before him, a mischievous grin played on his lips.

"We found the perfect candidate for your date." Lestrange's eyes shifted momentarily behind Riddle, prompting him to turn and inspect the source of their newfound audience. Three pairs of eyes were locked onto them, two wide with a mortified fascination, and you, who had recently questioned his emotional intelligence, regarded him with indifferent eyes. It was as if his very presence left you unaffected, perhaps even bored.

Tom arched an expectant brow, though his gaze remained fixed on you. Your brows furrowed briefly, and he could see the realization dawning on you—you knew he had overheard your conversation. Yet, even then, you managed to morph your features into an expression one of displeasure and tugged on your girlfriends' arms.

"Can I help you, ladies?" Tom's voice cut through the hallway, a subtle challenge lingering in his words. His gaze remained fixated on you, waiting for a glance or acknowledgment.

"No. Excuse us," you curtly replied and pulled your friends away. Tom watched your retreating back, waiting for the moment you might glance back at him, but you did not grace him with a second look.

He turned his attention back to Lestrange, his curiosity evident. "Well, who is it?"

"Er... well, she just left..." Lestrange's weak gesture indicated the direction in which the girls had disappeared. Tom's gaze lingered on the empty corridor.

༻♛༺

His gaze had begun to seek your figure amongst the crowded hallways. He was waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike so he could have a plausible excuse to talk to you. But it was as if you had vanished from the castle. He would see your two friends who you were inseparable with walking around without you. It confounded him. Where had you disappeared to?

"Lestrange."

The boy startled at Tom's voice, tripping over his own feet before righting himself. He turned to meet the Prefect's sharp gaze. "Yes?"

"The girl. What do you know about her?"

Lestrange's brows furrowed thoughtfully. "The candidate for the ball?"

Tom heavily resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "Yes, Lestrange. Who else?"

"Well, she's very reserved, and is very...picky with who she keeps in her circle, so I have not managed to talk to her. But from what I have gathered, she's from a good, respectable family, excellent grades, and the ball gown she has chosen is not ridiculous."

Tom rose an inquisitive brow. "How do you know about the ball gown?"

Lestrange shrugged. "Shagged her redhead friend the other day and saw her dress laying on her bed." He said as if it was the most obvious explanation. "You would approve." He winked.

Tom resisted the tempting urge to roll his eyes yet again. Depraved and idiotic as Lestrange was, Tom could not deny his questionable ways were effective. "Anything else?"

The boy scratched the back of his head, suddenly looking sheepish. "Er...she may or may not have a boyfriend." At Riddle's heated glare, Lestrange threw his arms up in defence. "In my defence, I knew it would not be a problem for you!"

Tom decided it was not wroth wasting his time to curse the younger boy, so he sighed tiredly. "Get me her schedule."

"Oh, no..."

༻♛༺

He had not anticipated that while on the quest of hunting the girl down, she would come looking for him herself.

"Riddle!" A feminine voice yelled out his name from across the empty corridor. He heard the hasty approaching footsteps behind him as he turned around, and was surprised to see you storming towards him with fury on your face.

He rose a brow in acknowledgement, which seemed to make you angrier. "What the fuck are you doing?" You seethed.

"Taking a peaceful stroll?" He deadpanned.

Your glare intensified at his mannerism, and you crossed your arms over your chest in indignation. "Care to explain why your little Lestrange has been following me around?"

Tom kept his expression neutral, although internally he was cursing Lestrange's lack of talents for being inconspicuous. "Do I look like his father? Why do you assume me responsible for his actions?"

"Do not play dumb with me Riddle." You huffed, pointing an accusatory finger in his face.

"Perhaps he has taken a fancy. How am I to know?" Tom simply shrugged. His nonchalant demeanour only fused your anger more, and you took a step closer to him as you seethed.

"First you eavesdrop on our private conversation—"

"Which was about me, so it's a little contreversial—"

"—and now you've got your goon following me around—"

"Again, why him following you is my problem?"

You threw your hands in the air, seemingly done with his behaviour. "You are insufferable! Merlin's beard, it's like talking to a—"

"Go to the ball with me."

Whatever you were about to say died in your throat, leaving you to blink up at him in stunned silence, trying to process his words. "What?" Was the only coherent thing that you were able to croak out.

This time it was Tom who stepped closer to you, hands stuffed in his pockets as he casually repeated his earlier statement. "Be my date to the ball."

You managed to gather enough of your wits to let out an incredulous laugh. "Have you gone mad? Do I need to help you into the Hospital Wing?"

"I'm perfectly fine." The corner of his lips curled into a smirk as he leaned in, his presence invading your space. "Now, say yes."

"You can't just demand that I be your date, Riddle." Your voice was sharp with exasperation, still grappling with whatever was going on in his head. "Besides, I already have a date. My boyfriend. Naturally." You added.

"Ah, of course. The dimwit that you can barely tolerate?" He asked smugly, a pointed jab at the conversation he'd overheard days before.

Your lips parted, indignation flaring as you struggled to formulate a rebuttal. "I tolerate him just fine," you finally managed, though even to your own ears, it sounded weak and far too defensive.

"Reputable enough to please your parents, but not skilled enough to please you I would wager." He countered.

"How dare you!" you hissed, your voice rising despite yourself.

Tom tilted his head, his smirk unfaltering. "Did I strike a nerve? My apologies. It’s just hard to watch someone of your... caliber settling for mediocrity."

Your jaw clenched, and despite fighting it, heat flared in your cheeks. You might have not liked Tom Riddle, but that did not mean you did not know just how rare it was to receive a compliment from him. And his words had been a compliment. So of course, it was only natural for you to get flustered. But you would not concede to him so easily. "You are delusional, Riddle. The only thing that matters is that he is far better company than an arrogant, self-important—"

"A self-important what?" Tom interrupted, his tone low and sharp enough to cut. His dark eyes bore into yours, leaving the retort stuck in your throat.

You stepped back, trying to put space between you, but Tom mirrored the movement, closing the gap effortlessly.

"You’re deflecting," he said smoothly, his voice laced with quiet amusement. "If you truly cared for him, you wouldn’t feel so unnerved, you would not struggle so needlessly to list his likeable traits, and you most definitely would not be so willing to have this conversation."

"Willing?" you echoed, the word tumbling out before you could stop it. You let out a sharp breath, shaking your head. "Oh, Riddle, it is not my fault you mistook my utter disdain and aggravation for you as interest." You taunted. "As a matter of fact, before you are more mislead, I am done indulging whatever this is." You turned on your heel, intending to storm away, but you barely took a step before a hand shot out, catching your wrist.

"We are not done yet" Tom’s voice was low and composed, but there was a dangerous edge to it, one that sent a shiver down your spine.

"Let go, Riddle," you demanded, attempting to yank your hand free.

Instead, he moved faster than you anticipated, stepping in front of you and backing you up against the wall behind you. Your back hit the cool stone, and you instinctively braced yourself with your hands against his chest, trying to push him away.

He didn’t budge.

His arms caged you in, palms flat against the wall on either side of your head. The smirk on his face was gone, replaced by something darker, more intent.

Your breath caught in your throat, and your eyes flickered around the empty corridor for any passerby. Were you to be caught in this compromising position with a boy, alone in an empty corridor, while courting someone else, you would be utterly ruined.

"Riddle, this is hardly appropriate. Let me go."

"Why should I?" he murmured, his voice velvety smooth as his face hovered far too close to yours. His head dipped slightly, and you froze as his nose brushed against your cheek, a slow and deliberate motion that sent a shiver racing down your spine. "I have got you right where I wan."

"Riddle," you said warningly, though the word came out more breathless than you intended.

His nose trailed downward, skimming along your jawline and then the curve of your throat. You inhaled sharply, your hands curling into fists against his chest, unsure if you were bracing yourself or preparing to push him away.

"Stop it," you tried again.

"Why?" he asked again, his lips brushing against the sensitive skin just below your ear as he spoke. The warmth of his breath against your neck made your heart race despite yourself. "Because you might start to enjoy it?"

Your breath stuttered when you felt his fingertips grazing along the hemline of your skirt. You knew this was outrageous behaviour, and you really should have screamed for someone, but his fingers left a fire trail and you felt as if you were being put under a spell. You had never felt this alive, this hot, this desperate for—

His lips hovered at your ear, his breath hot against your skin, sending shivers down your spine. "Say yes to the ball," he murmured, "and I will make you feel things you’ve never felt before... and never will again."

Your resolve almost faltered, your breath coming in shallow pulls as his words coiled around you like a spell. You could feel the walls you’d so carefully built beginning to crack under his relentless pressure.

Just as the word teetered on the edge of your tongue, a sound broke through the haze. Footsteps echoed down the corridor, drawing closer. The sharp reminder of reality snapped you back to your senses and your eyes snapped open.

Summoning every ounce of strength, you shoved him hard in the chest. He didn’t stumble, but he let you go, a sly, knowing smirk playing on his lips as he straightened to his full height.

"You’re impertinent and unbelievable," you hissed, your voice low but trembling with leftover emotion from what you had just experienced. Without waiting for his reply, you turned and bolted, your hurried steps echoing as you disappeared around the corner.

Behind you, Tom’s laughter followed, low and rich, like a predator enjoying the chase. After all, this was just a game for him. But he had not expected it to be so entertaining.

༻♛༺

Breakfast was a usual affair as you sat across from Adam Montague in the Great Hall, his voice a constant hum in the background as he rambled about Quidditch and the upcoming match schedule. Normally, you’d feign enthusiasm or at least muster the energy to listen politely. Today, however, your thoughts were consumed by a pair of dark, calculating eyes and the memory of hands that had left a trail of fire in their wake.

Tom Riddle. Of course. Somehow amidst your determination to avoid fawning after him like everyone else in the castle did, you had become just like them— with thoughts plagued by him.

Even thinking of his name itself felt like a forbidden secret, heavy and dangerous, lodged deep in your chest and an ache in your head. Yet no matter how much you tried to keep it at bay, the memory of him refused to fade.

You could still feel the ghost of his breath against your ear, the heat of his hand as it crept beneath your skirt, and the way he’d whispered those words—low, commanding, and laced with desires you shouldn’t want to hear.

You shifted in your seat, your skin prickling with awareness as the memory played over and over in your mind. It wasn’t just what he’d done— it was how he’d done it—with utter confidence, as though he already knew how you would respond, how your body would betray you before your mind could catch up.

And he had been right.

The thought made you burn with equal parts shame and longing. You shouldn’t crave the way his touch had made your pulse race, the way his voice had wrapped around you like silk.

"...and if the Harpies can pull off another win, they’ll have a real shot at the Cup this year," Adam said, his voice rising with excitement.

"That’s... great," you murmured automatically, like you always did, though your mind wasn’t even in the same room.

You remembered his face when he’d pinned you against the wall, his smirk infuriating and his proximity suffocating in the best possible way. You’d told him to stop, but deep down, you hadn’t wanted him to. Not really.

The truth clawed at you. The horrifying realisation that no one had ever made you feel the way Tom did in those fleeting minutes. Not Adam Montague. Not anyone.

You glanced at Adam, who was still talking, utterly oblivious to the war waging inside you. His blue eyes sparkled with excitement as he gestured animatedly, still drolling on about Quidditch. He was everything a good boyfriend should be—dependable, safe, respectable enough for your parents.

But safe wasn’t what you wanted.

Your stomach twisted. You didn’t just crave Tom’s touch or his words; you craved the way he made you feel alive. The way he challenged you, unraveled you, almost pushed you to the edge of something you didn’t quite understand but desperately wanted to explore.

And what vexed you the most was the fact that he had done all of that in a matter of minutes. He had made you feel all that with one interaction. Perhaps everyone around you had been right about him and his irresistible charm.

Damn you, Tom Riddle. You thought bitterly.

You realised you needed to escape and clear your head when Adam launched yet into another analysis of Quidditch tactics Harpies could employ to secure the Cup and you felt the walls closing in around you. 

"I just remembered," you blurted, cutting him off mid-sentence. "I wanted to ask Professor Slughorn something about the essay due tomorrow. I will head to class early."

Adam blinked, surprised at being interrupted so abruptly. Then he shrugged, muttering a befuddled 'okay'. Grabbing your bag, you stood, planting a quick kiss on his cheek before turning on your heel and heading toward the exit. The moment you stepped into the corridor, a wave of relief washed over you, though it was quickly overshadowed by the devil himself.

You had not even made it far when his voice cut through the air. "Running from something, or someone?"

Your stomach dropped. Turning your head, you found Tom walking toward you, his stride calm and assured, his dark eyes glinting with amusement.

"Go away," you said sharply, quickening your pace.

He didn’t miss a beat, easily falling into step beside you. "That’s hardly polite. Especially since we’re headed to the same place."

You frowned, glancing at him. "What are you talking about?"

He arched a brow, his smirk widening. "We have the same class. Surely you haven’t forgotten?"

Your lips pressed into a thin line. Of course he would find a way to make your morning even more unbearable. "Fine," you muttered, clutching your bag tighter. "Walk wherever you want, just don’t talk to me."

"Such hostility," he said, his tone light but laced with mockery. "I wonder if Montague would approve of your temper."

You shot him a glare. "Adam has nothing to do with this."

"Doesn’t he?" Tom asked. "If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were avoiding him just now. Tell me, how does it feel to lie to your boyfriend so early in the day?"

Your cheeks burned, but you refused to dignify him with a response. Instead, you quickened your pace, hoping he’d get bored and leave you alone.

He didn’t.

By the time you reached the classroom, your nerves were frayed, and you stormed inside, determined to put as much space between you and him as possible. Sliding into a seat near the middle, you silently willed the rest of the room to fill with other students.

But of course, Tom wasn’t finished. With a deliberate smirk, he crossed the space and sat down in the chair beside yours.

"You’ve got to be joking," you muttered under your breath, refusing to look at him.

"Now, now," he drawled, his voice low enough that only you could hear. "Shouldn’t we at least try to get along? After all, we’ll be spending so much time together."

You turned to him sharply, your irritation bubbling over. "What are you talking about now?"

He leaned back in his chair, his posture relaxed, though his eyes gleamed in amusement. "Oh, nothing." A pause. "Just that the ball is approaching, and I’m a man of my word."

Your stomach flipped, his implication clear. You opened your mouth to respond, but the professor’s arrival cut you off, forcing you to bite back whatever retort you had planned.

"Ah, Mr. Riddle!" Slughorn’s jovial voice boomed as he clapped his hands together. "I trust you’ve been giving the essay topic some thought. I’m particularly eager to hear your take on the use of powdered asphodel in calming draughts. Such a fascinating ingredient! Might you indulge me in what your take is?"

Tom inclined his head, his expression the perfect craft of false modesty. "I believe powdered asphodel is essential for crafting a truly effective calming draught. Without it, the potion’s efficacy in more severe cases is significantly diminished."

You couldn’t stop yourself from scoffing. "Essential? That's an overstatement. Asphodel might enhance the effects, but it risks leaving the drinker overly reliant. A calming draught should ease anxiety, not render someone unable to cope without it."

Tom turned to you, and you immediately regretted speaking up upon seeing the amused smirk plastered on his mouth "An interesting argument, but overly cautious. Without asphodel’s potency, the potion becomes too mild to address real crises. A weak solution is no solution at all."

You narrowed your eyes. "There’s nothing weak about proper balance. Valerian root and peppermint, for instance, can achieve the same calming effect without the risk of long-term harm."

Slughorn looked between you with visible delight, like a spectator at a match. "Ah, how I delight in a healthy debate! Keep at it, you two. This is precisely the sort of engagement I hoped the topic would bring. I look forward to reading both of your essays." He winked and sauntered off towards his desk just as the students began filing into the classroom.

Then, Adam Montague walked in, his steps faltering the moment he spotted Tom sitting beside you. His eyes widened, and his lips parted in confusion. "What the hell are you doing there, Riddle?"

Tom, utterly unbothered, leaned back slightly, a smug smile tugging at his lips. "I wasn’t aware this seat was reserved. Perhaps you should have labeled it, Montague." His tone dripped with mock innocence.

Adam glared, his jaw tightening. "It’s my seat. I sit there every class—next to my girlfriend."

"Ah," Tom replied coolly, glancing at you with deliberate slowness. "Shame you didn’t put a label on her either." He drawled.

Adam’s face flushed, his hands balling into fists. "Get up. Now."

"I do not think I will."

Adam took a threatening step forward, but Slughorn suddenly clapped his hands again. "Settle down, everyone! Time to begin." His cheerful tone left no room for argument.

With a frustrated huff, Adam reluctantly moved to a desk across the room, his glare burning holes into the back of Tom’s head. Meanwhile, Tom leaned slightly toward you, his voice low enough that only you could hear. "Bit possessive, isn’t he?" He hummed quietly. "Though perhaps not enough. Were it me who had you, I would not let you out of my sight."

You gaped at him, wondering if he had lost his wits. "Excuse me? I am not something to be owned, Riddle."

His hand dropped under the table and you barely suppressed a gasp when you felt it land on your thigh, grazing dangerously high under your skirt. "And yet...I would treat you as if you were my greatest possession."

Heat surged to your cheeks, and you quickly averted your gaze, utterly flustered by his words. The quiet intensity of his voice and the sheer audacity of his statement left your heart racing in a way you couldn’t explain. You quickly pushed his hand away without drawing any attention. Desperate to put some distance between you, you shifted your chair an inch or two away from him, the scrape of wood against stone louder than you intended. You kept your focus firmly on the front of the classroom, determined to concentrate on Slughorn’s voice as he began explaining the potion you would be brewing.

Out of the corner of your eye, you caught the faintest flicker of his smirk, as though he knew exactly how much he’d unsettled you—and relished it.

You gritted your teeth and stared resolutely at the blackboard, clutching your quill tightly. There was no way you’d let him see just how much he had gotten under your skin. You told yourself you only needed just enough willpower to get through this class and then you would be free.

And when finally the bell rang, signaling the end of class, you bolted from your seat. You didn’t want to give Tom any more time to—to do whatever it was he was doing to you. You headed straight for the door, but before you could make your escape, you heard Adam’s voice behind you.

"Hey! Wait up!"

You sighed and turned around reluctantly. Adam was quick to catch up, his brows furrowed in confusion. "What the hell was that back there?" His eyes flickered from you to the empty seat beside Tom. "Why didn’t you say anything? You just let him sit there."

You tried to offer a casual shrug, hoping he wouldn’t notice the way your pulse was still racing. "It’s not a big deal."

"But he was all over you," Adam said, his voice low with irritation. "And you just—"

"Adam, you're a big boy. I'm sure you do not need me to stand up for yourself." You cut him off, a bit sharper than you intended. "Really. Let’s just drop it, okay?"

He stared at you for a moment, clearly unconvinced, but he finally nodded. "Alright, but this isn’t over. We will talk during dinner." He stated with a frown before turning to walk to his next class.

You had a free period, so you decided you would head to the library to get ahead in your studies. But as always, peace and quiet did not come easily to you. Not when Riddle was concerned.

When you saw him leaning against the wall, patiently watching you, you almost screamed from frustration. "No! Absolutely not. I am not having any more interactions with you. Whatever was going on, is done. Go ruin someone else's life with your presence, and fuck off from mine."

He pushed off the wall, crossing the distance between you slowly, as if a predator trying not to startle its prey. You took a step back with bated breath with each step he took forward, and in a blink, he grabbed a hold of your hand and began leading you away from the corridor. You tried to wriggle out of his grip, but the action just encouraged him to tighten his hold.

"Riddle!" You tried, but he shot you a dark look shadowed by a loose strand of raven-black hair over his eyes. The dangerous glint in his stare sent a chill down your spine.

Before you knew what was happening, he pulled you into a dark alcove, hidden from the gaze of any potential prying eyes. Your pulse quickened at the way he cornered you, feeling his breath against your skin.

"I'm starting to think you have a thing for dark hidden corners." You muttered, trying vainly to distract yourself from his close proximity.

He ignored your comment. "One kiss," he murmured, his lips barely brushing your ear. "And I’ll leave you alone."

You narrowed your eyes, trying to maintain some semblance of control. "One kiss?" you scoffed, taking a step back, though he followed, keeping you trapped against the wall. "And what do you think is going to make me give in to this nonsense you're asking me?"

Tom chuckled softly as he slowly grazed a finger along your collarbone. "I don’t think you’ll give in. I think you’ll want to."

Your heart skipped a beat at his touch, but you refused to show it. "I don’t want anything from you." You shook your head, trying to remain defiant. "Stop playing games, Riddle. I’m not some toy for you to use and discard."

Tom smirked, one eyebrow raised. "If I wanted a toy, I’d choose something less... challenging." He stepped in even closer, his body fully touching yours now, and you could feel the heat radiating off of him. "But you, you’re more interesting. So, here’s the deal—one kiss, and I’ll leave you alone. After all, you don’t seem to be able to resist me, do you?"

For a weak moment, you hesitated. He was close, too close, and the air between you crackled with an intensity you couldn’t deny.

"I’m not some damsel who will fall for a cheap trick, Riddle," you retorted, though the words were hollow, even to you.

Tom’s eyes darkened, and he reached out, cupping your chin with his fingers, forcing you to look him in the eye. "And yet here you are, trapped in my web, pretending you don’t want this just as much as I do." His voice was low, intimate, and it sent a shiver down your spine. "One kiss and I promise, then I will let you go."

You inhaled sharply, torn between the desire to push him away and the overwhelming temptation to give in. For the briefest moment, you wondered what it would be like—just one kiss, one taste of what he was offering. He would not back down until he got what he wanted, and you knew that, so you decided to end your own torture by giving in.

"Fine," you muttered, almost against your will, your voice low with frustration. "But just one."

Tom’s smirk deepened as he leaned in, his lips brushing yours in a slow, almost teasing manner. It started gentle, a light pressure, before he deepened the kiss, and you felt your resolve start to slip away. His hand slid to your waist, pulling you closer, canting your bodies together, and the action almost made you whimper.

You were not supposed to enjoy this.

Frightened by your own pleasure at the way he had kissed you, you placed your palms on his chest and pushed him. When he pulled away, his eyes gleamed with triumph. "I’ve changed my mind," he murmured, his voice silky. "Go to the ball with me. And I’ll leave you alone."

You blinked, momentarily stunned. "No. No, Riddle, you promised you would stop."

Tom’s smirk was sharp, almost cruel. He suddenly stepped away from you, his form no longer caging you against the wall. "I promised I would let you go. And I did just now. I did not promise anything about the ball."

Your breath caught, your chest tightening. "You can’t—"

"I can," he interrupted, his tone final. "And I will. So, say yes, and I’ll leave you in peace. But if you don’t..." He let the threat hang in the air for a moment. "Or I’ll tell Montague about this little... encounter."

You stared at him, your heart racing, in disbelief over what he was saying—no— what he was threatening you with. Your breath hitched as he leaned closer again, his lips brushing against your ear as he spoke. "And I think Malfoy would be very interested in knowing that Adam’s place on the Quidditch team is up for discussion. One word from me and he’s off the team for good."

You opened your mouth to protest, but he silenced you with a soft, teasing kiss—brief, but enough to make your heart race even faster. When he pulled back, his gaze was firm. "Say yes. Or everything he values will slip right through his fingers."

The silence stretched between you as you hesitated, but deep down, you knew there was only one choice. "Fine," you muttered, your voice small, but the fire in his eyes made your chest tighten. "I’ll go. But only because you’re threatening him."

Tom’s smirk returned, but there was something else there now—satisfaction, and perhaps a touch of something else you couldn’t quite place. "Whatever helps you sleep at night, darling." He said as he pulled away completely. You watched him walk away, slumped against the wall, completely helpless as his chuckle echoed down the hall.

༻♛༺

[kawaiiwritingcomputer]

sonic characters when they have a crush on you || headcanons

Sonic 🍄

Sonic is the “doesn’t make it too obvious” king of guy. You give him something, he takes it with grace and a simple thank you and nothing more but behind closed doors he admires it. He holds everything and anything you give him or do for him dearly. His love language is gift giving but makes it seem like it was nothing.

“Oh yeah this old thing? No worries, just had to get rid of it anyway.” Meanwhile he totally thought of you and what you had mentioned. He’s the kind of hedgehog that can’t go too long without your attention without feeling weirdly huffy but refuses to admit he had a crush on you!

“Has anyone seen (Y/N)? I’m gonna go check on them.” Yeah. He totally doesn’t have a crush.

Tails 🍄

Tails makes his crush totally obvious. He’s inventing you things saying you might need them. Tails explain it thoroughly so you’re always well equipped and know what to do! He’s always looking for you everywhere just in case… Just in case what? Well, for just in case. Tails gets a little nervous that you might not like him back so he tries to overcompensate as a true friend! He’s so easy to fluster. He laughs at everything you say! Even if it’s not funny sometimes. Tails listens to every detail of your life and closely pays attention. Tails loves you so much to the point he’ll create anything for you!

Knuckles 🪼

The echidna will treat you with the respect he gives any other, overall being a kind person. He wouldn’t know what do to with himself, caught in your flames of love. He thinks of you often, yearning to have you in a hug. He’s so strong,, but not strong enough to deny these feelings. He is bad with hints, and to be honest he’s rather blunt.

“Y/N, here are these flowers I picked for you; and also some grapes! I think you are beautiful/attractive, and I would like to court you on a date!” He’s so serious, it’s very silly but you think it’s endearing and sweet. He’ll try to impress you and make a fool out of himself, eventually winning you over in the end because he’s such a silly cute guy and he makes you laugh.

shadow 🪼

He pretends like his feelings don’t exist, for as long as he can stand it. Damn, you’re just so cute, doing your own thing and enjoying every moment of it. You’ll try to drag him along somewhere for fun, and he’ll pretend he hates it but he’s loving every minute with you. He doesn’t make eye contact with you and he seems to be blushing a lot. He’ll only start to open up to you in private moments.

Shadow will show you small physical affections, like an awkward hug or simply trying to hold your hand. If you seem even a little bit off he will pull away, fearing you may think of him as a monster. You’ll have to reassure him yourself and make some of your own moves. “You don’t think I’m,,, dangerous?” He’s scared of hurting you, he doesn’t want to lose something he loves,, have it ripped away from him again.

silver 🍄

Oh Silver. He’s so awkward and shy! He can conversate for sure but if you show too much interest with your pretty eyes he starts to shut down. Silver practically melts but tells himself he must keep strong. He doesn’t want to look weak to you. He has everything under control! Including his crush on you… Or so he thinks. He yaps about the future and his special interests to you. Silver isn’t a show off kind of guy but if he thinks something will impress you, he’ll try to impress you for sure! Even if it embarrasses himself. Anything to hear you laugh!

scourge 🪼

Scourge always gets what he wants, even if he has to take it. From the moment he set his eyes on you, he wasn’t gonna give up. He had to have you. You would look so good as royalty by his side, sitting atop a throne. He would shower you with gifts, anything even stuff you wouldn’t care for. You may be flattered, but he’s a bad boy. He’s trouble, a straight up red flag that’s erratically waving!! He would make any comment he could about you, often really lewd stuff. Obviously staring at you from beneath those flashy sunglasses. He does have a hidden gentlemanly vibe on the inside, though, when he’s fallen into your trap instead. He’s like a moth to a flame fr.

“Have anything ya want from me, please, just take my heart already! I can’t stand it, someone like you lookin’ so good, you should be mine! Come on, I ain’t as bad as everyone says!” His huge fanged grin says otherwise, but at least he’s trying to be honest about his feelings. You get to be royalty, and he may not seem like it but Scourge is a very loyal partner to you.

amy 🍄

Amy is sooo obvious about her crush with you. She’s daydream scenarios and sighing dreamily to herself. You can always feel her eyes on you, and even feel her smile from miles away. Amy reads her tarot cards about you weekly to see when the perfect day to confess is but she gets nervous. What if it ruins the friendship? She can’t stand the thought of not being anything at all! Amy makes you home made gifts as a token of her love. You say you want new earrings? She’s on it! You saw a cute blanket? She’s knitting away! You would have to be blind to not see her crush. Will you accept her feelings?

rouge 🍄

Rouge is hot and cold with you. Is she being nice or is she flirting? Is she being mean or is shy flirting? She’s also very touchy, in a sly innocent way. If you questioned her, she would just shrug innocently. “Ya had something on ya, I was just trying to help.” Rouges love language can be hard to pinpoint. She comes and goes when she pleases but she always makes sure to talk to you. She doesn’t gift you anything because she doesn’t buy anything but she might steal you something. Rouge is playing the long game with you, slowly working her way into your life completely. She just thinks it’s cute watching you get flustered.

sticks 🪼

Sticks is attached to you in an endearing way, and she likes to talk a lot, so hopefully you can keep up with her. She’s not a prize to be won, you have to earn her respect and show her comfort before trust. She’s been through a lot,, and will be glad to have someone to finally talk to and lean on! She would make you primitive looking gifts, or go hunting to bring you something. She feels like she needs to give you something to represent her feelings.

She is quite flirtatious, and it could be confused with her also just being friendly- because she talks without thinking a lot. She makes compliments on your appearance, offers to show you new things, and tends to be kinda handsy. “You n me get along so good, we might as well become partners!” She would remark, hoping you’ll get her hints.

blaze 🍄

Blaze is direct. She befriends you and talks to you a lot. She goes out of her to see you then will go see others. You’re like a soft and safe place for her. She’s got a cool exterior and she feels like when she’s with you, it can be dropped. She knows she can be quiet or talkative around you and you’ll gladly just show up for her. Her love language is quality time and sharing things!

belle 🪼

First thing about Belle, she’s gonna stand up for you in all situations. She is very reliable, and also super intelligent and interesting. She’s so cute, she would love having your company,, someone to chat with while fixing up inventions. She longs for a partnership, and a bond where she doesn’t get hurt in the end. She’s a little shy when it comes to her crush on you,, and you’ll notice she’ll be more nervous and blushy, words don’t seem to come out right and she’s scared of messing up!!

When it comes to how Belle would confess, she would try to make it fantasy line for you. A beautiful environment to look upon, stars in the sky, and she would make you something related to your interests as a gift,, to show you she cares and she has a heart even if she is made of wood and other materials. She would protect you with all of her power, and always try to keep you happy.

bonus: robotnik

What?! Feelings?? Ivo has never felt such things, in fact he would rather laugh!! There is no feeling, only knowing, he claims to believe, and being deemed as unwanted all of his life has only driven these thoughts in harder. In truth he’s honestly scared of emotion,, he doesn’t like the way things can hurt him,, he doesn’t like to care. Vengeance against that hedgehog and his friend is his motivation…. At least until you came along.

There had never been any processing,, if there was room for love in his life. He’d try to calculate it into his plans,, but such an unforeseen situation would have his mind scattered. He’s a lil stressed about it, and may give you harsher conditions to try and push it all away- but he realizes he feels bad about it. Remorseful, he’s gonna apologize to you and try to set you free, you’re better off without him. If you try to stay— well he wouldn’t know what to do, but would blindly accept the situation, and fess up to you. He will always put you first and would never judge you. He never realized before how badly he craves touch,, and someone to love.

[witchexia]

NEW!(not included in my other headcanons) Dr. Simon Glass headcanons!

Maverick (his therapy duck!) is anomalous!

He likes to keep these marimo moss balls as 'pets' in his office (and before you ask YES he does care about them and his plants and flowers!!!!!)

oh SPEAKING OF PLANTS AND FLOWERS, i think he would have lavenders, monsteras, succulents, parlor palms in his office, but incase he knows he's too busy, sometimes he gets one of his coworkers to water them for him!

a LOT of people mentioned this headcanon but I AGREE SO MUCH, but he has a HUGE sweet tooth ! he has to stop himself from taking too much of the candy from the snack bowl he has in his office Ahihihi

also this IS canon but he keeps snacks under his desk ! i made it so he has a bowl of them ON the desk but he has backup bags under his desk, so when the snacks run out from the bowl he can simply refill it!

He ALWAYS shaves his facial hair, he got it from his military days (in the military, your face MUST be clean shaven - exceptions being mustaches and religious reasons, skin conditions etc - and he cannot get off of the habit of not letting ANY facial hair show haha

When he's alone in his office, he likes to listen to stuff like Michael Jackson or Jack Stauber while tidying up his office and playing with Maverick

He strategizes what he wears so he could be like a walking huge cuddly teddy bear (he wears warm, comfy clothes ! what he wears in summer is a new story LOL)

not sure if i mentioned this in my previous headcanons BUT he teaches his patients how to do origamis as a calming method, and he has a little cup FULL of origamis HE made !

About how he types texts, I headcanon that he switches from capitalizing his sentences to NOT doing it at all, sometimes it just depends! like- he capitalizes his sentences in VERY important text/email conversations, and he doesn't when he's texting his coworkers or patients!

If he overhears ANYONE talking about wanting to have a job in the whole psychology field, he gets REALLY excited and is TOTALLY willing to help them/offer them a role!!

another somewhat canon one, BUTTTTTTTTTTT he has access to EVERY Safe, Euclid humanoid SCP file, and a big amount of Keter files! He's spoken to almost everyone, so of COURSE everyone likes him!

On some days, he does his work in the cafeteria! You may find him there in the earlier hours in the morning or lunchtime!

Another headcanon i REALLY like, BUT he LOVES light blue - light yellow things ! he gets VERY happy when his patients bring him little trinkets with that color scheme!

a little obvious, but his fashion aesthetic is Light Academia !

IF he EVER has the time, he goes to visit a local pond to feed the ducks there fruits!

In the situations where one of his coworkers/patients are having a birthday, he COMPLETELY makes sure they feel loved and important ! He gives them fun little origami trinkets and stuff !

I feel like his patients EASILY get him to watch stuff, like for example: one of his patients talks about a popular series/movie like squid game, Simon checks it out, instantly likes it AND SO ON ! (i took inspo from someone elses headcanon for this one!)

ANOTHER somewhat canon? HEADCANON, but he's like a MAGNET for animals! if he goes out to a public park, you BET he will be surrounded by pigeons!

he LOVES card games like uno! and hes ALWAYS up for a card game with a patient/coworker! lol imagine beating your therapist in uno HAHA

(lmk if some of these headcanons are repeated from my other hcs! i forget things VERY easily and i thought of some of these on the spot ! i HAVE talked about these to some people!)

[themeraldee]

got some thoughts about depowered homie. we know how he's had to learn to restrain his strength so he doesn't maim every person he touches (unless he wants to 😇). by this point in his life, it's probably pretty instinctive for him to restrain himself pretty much at all times. the world isn't made for someone with his strength. i imagine non supes especially but probably supes too can still feel the inflexibility and power in his touch even though he's holding back, and even on occasions when he's not deliberately trying to intimidate them.

so, if he lost his powers, i'm just imagining an s/o noticing that he seems now to touch them with such - is it hesitance? like they're made of glass and could shatter at any moment? this seems like kinda paradoxical behaviour, right? since he is much less likely to accidentally injure them now. what's going on? should they be worried his feelings for them are fading? and maybe it takes them a little bit to realise that actually, no, he hasn't changed the way he touches them at all - it's just that his strength is more normal now, but he's not relaxed the way he interacts with the world to accommodate this, so they can actually feel how careful he's had to be all his life.

cue some kind of gentle conversation about this with him where they encourage him to let go a little. bit by bit. because he can now. maybe they start by just squeezing his hand and getting him to copy, mirroring their force. he'd probably act as if this is all ridiculous and unnecessary because he's not a child until oops now he's getting teary because he didn't just crush his s/o's hand. how far he has fallen (but also what a relief it actually is, the feelings are messy).

also conversely homelander is probably finding it a bit freaky how he can feel the strength of his s/o and anyone else potentially. someone could force him into something/somewhere the bad room he doesn't want to be, and he couldn't stop them anymore. and so what was once a one-sided trust from the s/o to homelander not to hurt them when he touches them has equalised somewhat.

it'd be a learning curve for them both, him especially, but a good, very intimate one. it could bring them closer together. maybe losing his powers doesn't have to be all doom and gloom. eventually. really, i think it'd just be nice for him to be able to hold someone tight without having to be conscious about snapping their spine. (i think even with supes like maeve and stormfront, hurting them - in ways they didn't want, in sf's case - still must've been a consideration and a possibility. he's the strongest man in the world.)

i know i'm living in a reality so divorced from canon with all this but i cannot be stopped mwahahahah.

oh this is so sweet and tender, my poor heart 😭😭😭 the bit your wrote about squeezing his SOs hand is SOOOOOOO good. I adore that. Both happy that he doesn't have to worry about killing his favourite person but also terrified because he can no longer protect them. He can no longer have the upper hand. G O O O O D

i have so much love for depowered homelander. The struggle between not being who he was—the only thing he ever was—and trying to accept that this is his life going forward. Ahhhhhhhhhh, this is my kryptonite. Especially when his SO ends up being stronger than him bcs he literally never had to work his muscles. Things that just remind him of being ordinary. God the angst is insane.

But also a proper crushing 'i can't breathe' hug would heal him. Feeling, really feeling, his SOs touches. The squeezes, the push and pulls, the hugs, the kisses, the bites. I just!!!! it's not a want, it's a need

trust me, i also live in a world where canon doesn't rule, you're amongst friends 🩷

[waitmyturtles]

Hi there! I was just reading up on your post about all The Discourse that happened with MBDL (I don’t follow them but their post showed up on my For You dash and in isolation I agreed with it but then saw your addition and followed the posts and realised it was part of a much bigger conversation and *wowser*).

This is just a tiny question but I’m curious as to what you think because you are very active discourse wise on here. When you have a “negative” (or what can be perceived by some as negative) opinion about a show/pairing/etc, do you believe you shouldn’t use tags? In your 4 Minutes example you had a TW at the start of the post but still used tags. So if people were searching the 4 Minutes tag they would see your post, even tho you had a TW at the start. And to be clear I don’t think you were being like nasty or anything, you were stating your opinion but it was an opinion that could be deemed as negative by some, therefore, some people would argue that you shouldn’t use tags because the tags should only be used for, I guess, “nice” posts?

Like obviously there is a difference between writing an analysis/review/your feelings in a measured way and being straight up hateful but I’m curious about what you think about drawing the line between the two? Like I saw someone say regarding The Heart Killers that they don’t care about KantBison and just want to watch the FadelStyle scenes and someone commented, “why would you use the tag to say something like this if you have negative shit to say don’t use the tag!” (But they were… ruder about it)

I guess on the one hand it’s like, yes, if you’re being a “hater”, then don’t wander into a fandom space and yell at people enjoying something, but what can be deemed as “negative” and “hateful” can be a subjective thing because some fans often confuse being “critical/having criticism” with being “hateful”. I think the problem is some fans will see a post that has critiques and read it as an attack and say, “why would you tag this and enter it into the fandom space, you should have left it tagless so that it floated in the netherworld and I never saw it!”

Sorry if this makes no sense!! But yeah, to tag or not to tag, that is the question.

Hello @summerofofelia! This is a great question, one that I have thoughts on and that I also posed to my homies. As you have gone through The Discourse (capitalized, ha, and I’m sorry you waded through that), this is a relevant topic for the moment!

Generally speaking, I don’t think any one faction “owns” a tag. This perspective of “owning” a tag strikes me as an unnecessary power move of censorship of thought.

Some of the core arguments we’ve been having on each side of the Discourse have been around the question of: what pieces of art are ripe and available for criticism? My position (and that of my homies) is: if it’s art, it’s up for analysis, full stop. And I think you’re seeing, in the THK tag, power moves by people wanting to control what *can* be seen in that tag. And others can be susceptible to those power moves and public shaming moments, without even knowing it.

By the time I had gotten around to watching that 4 Minutes finale, I had done some previous tag scanning and saw the reviews were mixed. So I watched the episode, processed it (angrily), TWed my post for accountability, and went at it. Even though the environment of feeling about that finale was mixed, I also wanted to note, before anyone read my post, that my feelings were strong. As expected, I received mostly agreement from people who felt similarly about the finale, and some detracting feedback from folks who hadn’t read or heeded the TW.

Like I said in the Discourse post: I expect people to exert agency and personal responsibility to read what they read, and filter/block what they don’t want to read. The filter and block functions are there for a reason. The TW is important to me in these moments where I know a show has meant something to some folks, but — when I think a show has narratively failed (my main criterion for feeling if a show was artistically successful or not), I do feel like giving it the critical dress-down, and figuring out what worked and what didn’t. I think that process is not only worth writing about, but it’s also worth a contribution to the thoughtful annals of meta and feedback that this small community has about the shows. If we didn’t do that, the feedback on all of these shows, I think, would be universally bland, groupthinky, and untruthful.

Art is worth analyzing — and anyone who wants to write criticism has a right to do so.

I also want to distinguish among meta, versus mean-spirited blather (like unnecessary bullying of a celeb or a pair), versus the kind of comment that that blogger said about THK. These categories are anchored on intent.

I think all purposeful meta (including, tone-wise, critical rants) gets tagged, because it’s not being done to wantonly bully the actors or the show itself without analytical proof.

I kinda think that THK comment is hilarious, honestly, ha. I don’t think it was being done out of a mean spirit. It could be tagged — or it might not. Someone *was* speaking their truth, specifically about the show. And if another reading didn’t like reading that truth, then — they can block that blog, as I wrote in the Discourse, and curate their Tumblr experience.

Saying, say, that FirstKhao or JoongDunk simply suck, and just leaving that hanging out there like mistletoe, without analytical proof? Condescending to them meanly? Something like “idk I just don’t like his face?” I’d say don’t tag that. What is it meant to contribute to a larger conversation, which Tumblr itself is designed to foster? If a post is meant to simply bully, without context, I’d say, no tags (and reconsider why you’re on Tumblr).

Finally, as my homies and I were ruminating on, as mentioned above, readers have to exercise agency and personal responsibility on this site. Readers can’t expect any one blogger to fall in line with their demands. That’s a passive, Karen-esque demonstration of an attempt to steal power from another person. That fandom Karen isn’t taking responsibility for their own mind and body, and is expecting another person to do so on their behalf.

As a meta writer, I don’t think or write like anyone else, and it’s clear from the feedback I’ve received over the last two and a half years on this site that people have appreciated my writing and singular perspectives on shows. I also love the writing process. And part of being on Tumblr is sharing the joy of the love of whatever art we’re consuming (even if we’re critical of it), because Tumblr is about sharing and, hey — it’s a social media site. So I also think that that kind of sharing is important to consider when we use tags. As journalists know — writers write, in part, for the byline, and in part to share their work with readers. Tags help us disseminate our work and create a community of conversation around the art that’s worth pondering.

We *just* had this with Spare Me Your Mercy, with AWESOME dialogue among fans, stans, and critics of the shows that was diverse, considerate, enlightening, RESPECTFUL, and so much fun. People on all sides of the debate were reblogging each other and respecting our positions. I couldn’t have written my final assessment without tag diving, and I’m glad people weren’t afraid to praise or critique the show on the tag — because seeing that spectrum of reflection was, I think, a truthful assessment of how the show landed in community.

One last point. I think criticism itself is an art of writing to strive for doing well. (My 4M rant doesn’t count in this category, lol, but much of my writing does strive for this standard.) Many of my favorite writers are critics. My personal faves are some of the New Yorker stalwarts — Hilton Als on theater (if you consume Western queer media, I think Als’s writing is required reading), Anthony Lane on television, Pauline Kael on film. And Nat Hentoff, who wrote for the Village Voice, defined jazz criticism. I’ve written before about the importance of good criticism.

I don’t want to imagine a world where art critiques aren’t welcome. Criticism, as I wrote in the link above, so often lifts and celebrates art, even when that art is imperfect. (And it’s so rare when we get PERFECT art. Super rare.) If a piece of art fails on certain markers of success, like narrative coherence — is that not worth analyzing….because of another anonymous person’s rubric of arbitrary criteria?

I don’t buy it. That’s tone-policing censorship. The fandom Karens don’t own that turf. And I think that’s when using the tag is important.

It’s worth diversifying the global conversation on art. Tumblr is literally designed to do this via à vis tags. And Tumblr established the filter and block functions so that readers could protect themselves, with personal agency, and curate their own experiences. That agency doesn’t fall on anyone else but the individual reader. The writers can’t read the readers’ minds.

TL;DR no one owns tags! It ain’t a turf war.

[riongeee]

I lowk want to make a Sebek time travel fix-it fic but I don't know what to do with it :'^( Do you have any specific troupes/scenarios you would like to see?

Dhdidifjfjdjdj

Okay so, in this situation it's very dependant on where he time travels from. See most peoples immediate assumption would be after an overblot went wrong and he died or something or after the overblots in general.

But imagine this, things do go wrong in Malleus' or Grimms overblot, I'm thinking Yuu dies, maybe the first years. Regardless, Sebek doesn't. He lives on with the regrets of what he could have done differently and becomes a jaded old man. His relationship with Malleus is never the same, he just can't look at him the same way.

So when he finally passes on and wakes up as his younger self, he's: old, jaded and almost reminiscent of Baul-Sebek, not the loud Sebek of the past. Just think about it.

On the flip side, if you wanted to take the other approach of him going back while he's still young, it has so much angst potential. Because all the events will be fresh in his mind and he just can't quite look at anyone without getting sick.

If it's a young enough time travel (before Nrc) he stops hanging out with Silver and throws himself into training. Or he begins to hang out with Silver more but almost like a bodyguard, trying to see where he can change the future.

As for other people, like the first years, I'd just like to say. Imagine being friends with someone and then suddenly they don't know you, have no recollection of the memories you've made, the conversations you've had. It would sting.

For the overblot gang, it would be difficult, because Sebek want them to avoid overblot but the Riddle before overblot is so strict and how would he even go about talking to Leona or Jamil??? (Sebek taking over Yuus job as unpaid therapist arc?(making friends with the upper years and becoming their honorary sibling arc??? Idk just some food for thought))

Something else interesting to consider is whether Sebek would stay in the same dorm. Rook changed dorms after first year after all, what's to say that a Sebek that has gone through so much wouldn't change too(what potential dorm, I'll leave for you to think about).

Anyways this is just some ideas to play around with, main point is that you should definitely write the fic😼😼😼

Sebek needs more fics dedicated to him, he's not appreciated enough :'(

Dkjddjdjdj, anyways excited to see what you do with these (you don't have to use any of these just some fun ideas that have been swimming in my head, but I hope you like em<3)

[everythingblackblack]

Do you have any thoughts/headcanons about Kaito's phobia of fish? It's an interesting character trait considering Kaito's personality and the lack of backstory given to it.

i love the concept of Hakuba being great about it, him canonically being kind to people with irrational fears is wonderful for his relationship with Kaito. Hakuba the human shield against fish! He'd be capable of being subtle about helping Kaito and I can imagine him getting protective if anyone hurts Kaito with it.

How do you think Shinichi and Akako would handle it?

Actually, I do have several thoughts on that.

Have you seen movies like "The Little Mermaid", "PONYO" and "NEMO"?

Well, they are scary movies for Kaito. He must have seen Ponyo and Nemo at some point when he wasn't that aware of his phobia or didn't know what they were about, he definitely has never seen "The Little Mermaid", and the name terrifies him.

I feel like Hakuba would be more proactive in helping him with his phobia and would even encourage him to go to therapy to treat it professionally, because as we know Japan is surrounded by sea, and seafood is their main source of food, I imagine it must be hard for Kaito to have to see fish all the time.

I feel like with Akako, Kaito has a conversation like:

"If witches exist, does that mean mermaids do too?"

"Yes, they do, why? Do you want to see one?"

"Oh, no, not really!"

Akako raises an eyebrow and looks at Kaito, judging him, she knows there's something more to this, so she pressures him to confess and when he tells her, she would definitely tease him a little.

"I'm surprised that the great Kaitou Kid is afraid of something like that."

"Don't make fun of me, Akako!"

"No, calm down, even if I like to tease you, I wouldn't stoop that low, don't worry about the fish, or the mermaids, as long as I'm here, you just have to worry about being cute, I'll take care of the rest."

I like to think that even if she would tease him a little (because that's her personality), she wouldn't really expose him to that, in fact, I see her covering his eyes discreetly so he doesn't see them.

I think that Kaito seeing that Shinichi loves sharks wouldn't tell him, and he would end up finding out until it's too late.

Something like:

"I have tickets to the aquarium!"

Kaito forces himself to smile, even though inside he's screaming. Shinichi looks so happy that he can't bring himself to say anything about it.

When they enter the aquarium, Kaito drags him first to see any non-fish animals. Shinichi starts to get suspicious that something is up, but he ignores it because he thinks Kaito would tell him if it was important.

It's not until they move on to the fish section that he feels something is wrong. Kaito is clinging to him too tightly and has his eyes closed.

"Kaito, are you okay?" "Yeah, yeah, just, you know, I love you and all that." "You're being weird, and not your usual weird self." "Just ignore me, I promise I'm enjoying this." "It doesn't seem like it."

In a moment of bravery Kaito opens his eyes, but it's a grave mistake because he faints. Shinichi takes him to the infirmary and when Kaito wakes up he forces him to tell him what's wrong.

"I'm sorry, you seemed really excited." "No, it's okay, but I'd like you to tell me these things, trust me I don't want to bring you to basically your version of a house of terror." "You know, I don't really mind sharks, I just can't stand fish." "I hope you're being honest, I don't want you to suffer because of me."

[al-luviec]

juvie buddies

[idealism-world]

need y'all to realize tme doesn't mean transmasc. tme doesn't even mean afab (and the idea that tma people are attacking tme people for their agab is extremely transmisogynist) a cis man is tme. a cis woman is tme. transneutral people who are afab, amab, and intersex are mostly likely tme. intersex people can be tme or tma. tme just means Transmisogyny exempt. i'm tme. my parents are tme. You are just making it endlessly harder for tma people to talk about their oppression because you think every time they say tme they're attacking transmascs. maybe if you gave a fuck about tma people you wouldn't nitpick their language. just saying.

edit: i deleted my previous edit because i realized i was being stupid as hell.

[beautifel]

i. hate that i cant ignore any longer how fucked up i am

[harrowharkwife]

x

[hellfireeddiemunson]

i have bad melted soup brain today and i hate it

[jesskasb]

EXTREMELY LONG POST AHEAD YOUVE BEEN WARNED. DO YOU LOVE THE COLOR OF MY WORDS?

i've been so scared of posting my opinions about recent media because i want to maintain some kind of unproblematic agreeable image out here. i don't want to say i enjoyed something for fear that enjoying it means i am morally required to reblog or discuss every critique others have to make sure people know i am aware that it is not perfect. i suppose this comes from this increased ideology that people who like things need to do so critically at all times, and they need to demonstrate that or they're a bad person; which is stupid, obviously, but i have somehow internalized that because i wanted to make the small of audience of this blog to know im not stupid or "problematic" or whatever. which is another stupid thing to want because this blog is supposed to be for ME and not other people, and ive always tried to uphold that mentality by posting whatever i wanted and always saying my thoughts in the tags. but obviously, my feelings have had something else to say about it and ive been holding back opinions and expressing my enthusiasm for things because of how that enthusiasm may be perceived and misinterpreted, even though im aware that everything ever will be misinterpreted by somebody eventually and that is out of your control and its ok. this dissonance between what my logic tells me and how i actually feel has been bothering me a lot. even now im like oh i should put this under a read more so it doesnt bother people! while logically i know i want to post this as is because its some meaningful introspection for ME and thats what matters, truly. it's why i have this app in the first place. so i can express myself through text in eays i can't in real life for one reason or another.

either way it seems i've fallen into the social media trap of making everything content and palatable to as many people as possible, making things relatable and clever so others will enjoy it and i will be known as someone to be liked. all for the fleeting dopamine of a like and a reblog or a follow.

and then, because these feelings frustrate me and i have been in denial about them, i have also fallen into the trap of the "let people enjoy things" mentality. that scares me because it just goes to show how easy it is for someone to slowly get on the side of perpetuating a lack of media literacy or even shit like proshipping and stuff, when actually my feelings are not related to that at all but rather a dissonance between wanting to be palatable for everyone and wanting to talk about my interests when the reality is that there is not really anyone stopping me from saying whatever i want except for myself. im the only one who cares about this and the only one that is bothered. i've always looked down on a "what will they say" mentality and i hate that i've become so used to the way ive been thinking that i started ignoring the fact that i shared the mentality.

ok im just repeating myself now. point is. i want to work on getting back the mentality of posting for myself and being honest with my opinions not because i want to start discussions or get clout for being opinionated but rather because i truly enjoy analyzing things and expressing my thoughts. so. in an effort to do just so ive decided to unpack some of the media that have really reinforced the need to conform.

• let's start with the biggest elephant in the room: oppenheimer. i know! i know. no fucking wonder. "but hear me out!!!!" (headass need to justify everything i say and do so i wont be perceived incorrectly). i went to watch it with my stepdad at 11pm after the rest of our family went out to have boba tea without us bc we were resting, even though we LOVE boba and they couldve simply asked if we wanted to go. so the whole outing to the movies was spontaneous revenge and i loved that. it was a great bonding experience. in the parking lot we found two 20 dollar bills on the floor and the way we both dived to pick them up was hilarious. he was faster than me. we got some shitty churros and no popcorn and into the movie we went. now, the movie itself, i honestly did not like it and didnt have a good time, i was trying soo hard not to fall asleep. i was sleep deprived, tired, and honestly science and politics arent my thing at all. and that is obviously beside the fact that the whole plot was hard to follow because they tried so hard to make the audience sympathize with oppenheimer and frame it as if he really knew no better than to participate in the war and making the choice to kill thousands of japanese civilizatians. i was trying not to chew my arm off at the theater. ugh.

i will say i found the use of audiovisual distortion to represent dissociation and high stress brilliant. obviously its not the first media to do this but i think it made amazing use of the audio of a theater and the nature of film. i saw that post about how "if i cant see a movie in the comfort of my house and i have to go see it at the theater to get the full experience then its not very good" and i honestly think thats bogus. in fact im glad and i agree that something that can only be experienced in a theater full of people with good audio and a giant screen has value. chris nolan may be pretentious about it and fuck him but its like. the nature of a thater itself is not stupid and streaming it is different. theaters are about getting together with fellow humans and seeing something live and valuing the fleetingness of not being able to replicate that same exact experience again. whether its a musical or a play or a film youll never see the exact same thing with the exact same audience. and theres beauty in that.

• barbie was fun. it was different and refreshing from the usual stuff in mainstream theaters and i can really respect it for that. i cant believe mattel allowed that depiction of their own company to be in there but yeah theyre winning in the end. really good marketing. when the girl called out barbie for doing irreparable damage to the feminist movement i thought that was very based... im really biased because when i was younger, as a little hispanic poc girl who was chubby and kind of weird, i was just so bitter about everything that barbie was. because she wasnt me. she wasnt like me. she was like everything everyone said was pretty and that idea of pretty wasnt me. and i hated it. i wouldnt play with my blonde white barbies and i was obsessed with the one tan barbie with curly haired i had. she was a ballerina in a blue leotard and a tutu. i took off the tutu because i thought it was too feminine and i wasnt too feminine and i wanted her to be like me. but i still knew i could never be a ballerina because i was chubby and not athletic. it was the closest a barbie doll would ever get to being me though, and i was satisfied. i ended up relating more to my entire collection of g3 ponies than barbies.

going back to the movie; i think the message is important even if it wasnt handled perfectly. its a step in the right direction. we've been talking about this for YEARS and it has finally made its way to be told directly in an extremely mainstream movie. thats good! im glad! and i had fun laughing my ass off at the funny parts with my friends. i was ready to watch it alone after a hangout with my friends but some of them decided to join me and i love it. im very happy ive found people who want to go out with me and include me and like being around me and respect me. its been a while. i coughed a lot during the movie and my friend said "...do you need a cough drop, alex" at the end of the movie and i was so embarrassed and it was funny. my car keys fell in between the seats and it was scary but the employees were really nice about it. when magic ring ken appeared i yelled COCKRING KEN! and it sent my friends and a stranger next to me into hysterics. i had a great time and i wont forget it.

• good omens. neil gaiman has been a figure of great dissonance for me. i genuinely like his books and posts but im also aware that saying you like his work comes with all this other stuff that people assume is true, especially on tumblr, because he can also be really annoying. i dont support EVERYTHING he does of course but i love good omens and at the same time i was scared of what people would assume about me for sharing posts of season 2 and being excited about it. loved the first season of good omens and i was criminally deranged about it back in 2019. i liked the new season a lot! (SPOIILERS AHEAD SKIP TO AFTER THE Picture IF YOU WANT TO AVOID THEM) i missed the characters a lot and michael sheen and david tennant are just such stellar actors and you can really tell how much they like aziraphale and crowley. and gosh i just love when everyone involved in a production is as passionate about it as fans are. i will say michael and beelzebubs thing felt really fanservicey and i wasnt the target audience for their relationship. heres some more thoughts i want to share

besides that i mean fuck i would watch aziraphale and crowley talk about the weather for an hour. their banter is amazing. i also love the final episode drama. i just love mythology and exploring how all the fantastic bullshit fits into the real world. its why i like percy jackson so much, and i think gaiman really succeeds at urban fantasies (or magical realism?? not sure) extremely well. im not familiar with the work of terry pratchett but someone whose opinion i value likes his books so i wanna check em out one day. i had a good time with good omens and im excited for season 3. got a lot of theories but im lucky i have a friend to talk that to about so i wont keep you here much longer.

• the witcher. im SO passionate about the witcher show you guys have no idea i got my entire family to watch it and im able to connect all the dots and shit i love the world building i love the characters i LOVE LOVE JASKIER. but i hate the writing. i hate that i havent read the books and im progressing incredibly slowly through wild hunt so i feel like a poser and not a true fan. i hate that its so mainstream and i hate the way that i hate that. my feelings about this are not as dissonant and strong as the past three media i listed but i feel like it was the first straw. i just have this need to justify liking it and saying oh its not a good show but i like it haha sorry. IM NOT SORRY! I ENJOY IT A LOT, FLAWS AND ALL! AND I THINK ITS GOOD BECAUSE I AM STILL WATCHING! but i will stop watching after this season i refuse . liam hemsworth makes me puke while henry cavill is not only attractive but he genuinely cares about geralt and the witcher series and i dont want to watch something where the lead is just a replacement for someone who wanted better conditions and treatment and didnt receive it. fuck

• young royals. i just shat on it heavily back when it started trending on tumblr bc i thought it was some stupid teen drug show that had some shallow romance but honestly i think it was the internalized homophobia talking idk i gave it a shot and im LIVING for the drama and the cringe that comes with being a teenager and i love the setting and i love that everyone is so flawed and human and real.

• alice oseman's work. i actually dont know much about her as a person and author but i also shat on heartstopper when it became mainstream because the tv show annoyed me. i tried it, but the first episode left me feeling uncomfortable and icked so i quit and have been hating on it since without even giving the graphic novels a glance. i read the synopsis of her novel solitaire and a review compared it to catcher in the rye and i thought that was so fucking stupid. catcher in the rye, really? the creator of HEARTSTOPPER, making something that can even be of the same tone as catcher in the rye? bah, impossible. when i picked up i was born for this, i thought itd be a shitty and fluffy fan/celebrity book but i was just so desperate for trans rep. and then i pulled an all nighter to read it and i realized it was GOOD and had a lot of layers that impressed me. i had underestimated alice oseman's writing skills by SO much and i dont like thar i was so cynical. i started reading solitaire and man. it is dark. and evidently inspired by catcher in the rye. i am not done with it yet but from what i read so far.... holden, you have some competition.

solitaire is told from the pov of the sister of one of the heartstopper voice. through this book i learned that actually the heartstopper boy has a LOT of serious issues. i wonder if the graphic novels handle it better than the tv show. i hope they do! if they dont, then , well, i can say with confidence that i enjoy her books even if heartstopper isnt my thing.

ok i think thats all. if you read all that, post picture of an animal. i dont know. like and subscribe! i am growing as a person and i think thats beautiful. whatever. rolls my eyes and walks away

[dear-ao3]

so. as you may know it’s christmas eve. as you probably don’t know i am eastern european. and probably the only real tradition anyone holds onto is christmas eve. normally my great aunt does all the food and very begrudgingly sometimes lets everyone help make like. one thing.

well.

this year. the year of our lord two thousand and twenty four. she decided she was done cooking and it was up to everyone else.

so i got a phone call from my mom a few weeks ago being like hey so. you’re making the cake. got it? good.

the cake in question is a walnut cake. i was entrusted with my great aunts recipe about seven years ago. i’ve made it twice. the first time i fucked up the frosting quantity. the second time i fucked up the eggs. both times were passable at best and notably! my great aunt did not taste either of them.

and i have to make this cake. on christmas eve. it is dessert. for everyone. my extended family will all be eating the cake. the walnut cake. on christmas eve. even my great aunt.

so yesterday, december 23 if you are counting, i went on the annual Last Minute Christmas Food Shopping Trip with my father, watched him climb into the case to get his half and half like he does every year, and stressed about my cake as i made sure i had all of the ingredients.

then. we went to my great aunts house. where i was met with Trial Number 1: The Cognac

this cake has cognac in the frosting. not a big deal really. except for the fact that my mom hates that there is cognac in the frosting. (my mom is hell bent on making christmas eve dinner vaguely healthier. no one else agrees.) and i was to be making the cake in my moms house.

also important to note: we (as in my parents) do not own cognac. mostly because none of us drink.

so my great aunt is like oh i have to give you the cognac. cause she knows. i am baking the cake. the walnut cake. (my dad told her. he is a traitor). and i say okay. sure. this won’t be a problem at all.

so she gives me. a shot of cognac. and when i say a shot. i mean an Entirely Full Shot Glass of Three Hundred Dollar Cognac. in a jar. for the cake. the walnut cake. that i have to make.

upon bringing the cognac home my mom says no we’re not putting that in. the cognac sits on the counter in its jar. no one touches it.

then i was met with Trial Number 2: The Frosting.

this recipe requires a pound of chopped walnuts. first. i couldn’t even find the walnuts. my sister and i searched high and low and in every cabinet we could find but no nuts. i called my mom. and said mom where are the walnuts? and she said. “they’re in the nut bag behind the basement door.”

oh of course. how could i have missed the nut bag? a holiday bag full of bags of nuts that was half hidden by wrapping paper and also behind a door?

in any case. could i have used a food processor? absolutely. did i? no. half because i forgot and half because i didn’t want to accidentally grind the walnuts into a paste. so i enlisted the help of my younger sister to chop the walnuts By Hand while i embarked on the real devil: the frosting.

which remember. is supposed to have cognac.

so i cream my butter. i add my sugar. i’m careful not to over sugar. i taste it a million times. i add my coffee and my vanilla extract (instead of cognac. which is still sitting on the counter) and it was all going so well until. the butter rebelled.

now remember. one time when i made this. seven years ago. i made too little frosting. so i made more this time. and i thought i had all my conversions right but evidently i did not because suddenly there was too much liquid in my frosting and it split.

the frosting for the walnut cake that everyone was going to eat. on christmas eve. the very next day.

i felt like a contestant on great british bake-off getting smited by the tent.

so i did the logical thing and shoved the whole mess into the fridge hoping that it would sort itself out overnight.

then it was time to face Trial Number Three: The Cake Itself.

as i have said this cake is a walnut cake. the christmas eve walnut cake that has been at christmas eve longer than i have been alive. and it requires no less than ten egg whites. which i whipped and i added to my walnuts and shoved the whole thing into the oven in my two baking dishes.

only to discover no less than 40 minutes later that the batter in the pans was Not Even (despite my best efforts). so i cooked one longer than the other and hoped that i hadn’t monumentally fucked up the walnut cake. like i had the frosting. which was in the fridge. and i was ignoring.

which leads to Trial Number Four: The Egg Yolk Cake

see i had ten egg yolks. i didn’t know what to do with them. my mom said flush them. my dad said make a custard. i proposed making egg nog. my mom said she didn’t want it in the house cause it was too fattening (a blatantly incorrect statement. please, if you are reading this, go drink a glass of eggnog. or some other fun festive drink. food is for the soul.) so i produced a recipe for an egg yolk pound cake. i made it. i still don’t know if it came out good cause i haven’t tasted it. i hope it did. but that was not the point. the point is the walnut cake. the christmas eve walnut cake.

and the following morning i was met with Trial Number Five: The Frosting Part 2

first i threw my failed frosting back in the mixer and it immediately secreted a brackish combination of vanilla extract and coffee so i did the only thing i could. facetimed my dad and said “father there are problems abound.” and he gave me the fatherly advice of “make it again.”

and so i did.

with more correct measurements. still scared it would split at any second.

though it didn’t.

and i didn’t add the cognac.

maybe no one will be able to tell???

my mom said that if anyone asks the first batch of frosting failed and i had to toss it. this is technically true.

but i had frosting. i had two uneven cakes. and it was time for Trial Number Six: Decorating

decorating cakes is easily in my top ten least favorite activities. decorating the christmas eve walnut cake is easily in my top three least favorite activities. because i am terrible at decorating cakes. and also because it has a filling.

the filling is jam. and i once again made the wrong choice because i put the jam on first before the frosting. which to be fair is what the directions say. but as everyone knows, the directions in recipes you get from your eastern european great aunt are not the real directions. so now i had to smear butter cream. on top of jam. for the filling of the walnut cake. for christmas eve. that we would be eating in a few hours.

and we didn’t have a cake plate. we had a large dish.

i had to use my fingers. i had to use three spatulas. i got jam everywhere. but i did it. and as soon as i set the top cake on top of the filling i realized my monumental mistake: i was supposed to trim down the cakes.

so now they were uneven. and lopsided. and there was nothing i, a mere mortal tasked with the impossible task of making christmas eve walnut cake, could do about it.

so i continued to spread my frosting. which i had enough of. and tried and failed to not get jam everywhere.

in the end it was almost presentable. not great. slightly lopsided. and definitely not as nice as any of my great aunts cakes.

which left me with Trial Number 7: Chilling It

our fridge was being taken up by other important christmas eve things (though not as important as my cake. the walnut cake) so i had to put it in the car. which was fine because there is snow on the ground.

i covered my cake. the walnut cake. in tin foil and hoped i wouldn’t accidentally squish it. and then i went outside. i tried to steal my moms shoes to walk outside. she was not impressed.

“you know, saph,” she said. “some of the time you’re pretty great. the other half of the time you’re really weird.”

i could not agree more.

i put my cake on the trunk. prayed to the cake gods and went inside.

on the one hand if the cake is good, i will be stuck making walnut cake for christmas eve for the rest of my life. on the other hand, if it sucks i will never have to make another one.

Trial Number Eight: The Tasting still waits.