#interpretation is fine as long as it’s correct

[7roaches]

sorrry ppl who donr follow me for utmv dtuff & sorry canon-strict ppll but nm & killer r soo incredibly important to me can u imagine being the embodiment the literal proof that there is bad and pain in this world or being the loowest of the low & then you have a silly bestfriend who u loveclove love lovr love so mjch & ur so fucked up u dont know where u end & your reluctant life purpose begins but u have a silly bestrfriend who wraps your wounds and youure all he reallyneeds & hes all you really need do you get it. do you get it. do you get it.

[sonknuxadow]

so glad that rouge being shadows older sister has become a much more common headcanon recently because that is the only correct interpretation of their relationship and i will not be accepting criticisms at this time. or ever

[gibberishfangirl]

WIND BREAKER | my brother in christ, you are scaring the hoes

Synopsis ✰ head cannons of everyone confusing your friendship for a relationship

Characters ✰ Haruka Sakura, Hajime Umemiya, Hayato Suo, Jo Togame, Choji Tomiyama

Contains ✰ sfw! hardcore crushing, blushing, dramatic behavior, silly content of the boys having a crush on you and you being oblivious to what’s happening

Haruka Sakura ᡣ𐭩

✿ you both had no idea about the rumors, sakura only found out through his friends

✿ “wow sakura, why do you get so flustered around couples. don’t you and (y/n) do the same thing?” “WHAT?”

✿ he doesn’t tell you about it, his whole face burns up to a painful degree at the idea of you two being together

✿ hates how much he doesn’t mind the idea of you two being together

✿ he’s more nervous around you and you have no idea why

✿ unintentionally plays into the rumors by being more protective of you

✿ the whole experience opens his eyes to the fact that he sees you more than just a friend

✿ cannot stop thinking about how it’d be like to your boyfriend

✿ takes offense to anyone who tries to hit on you moving forward

✿ yeah you two aren’t actually together but everyone thinks you are. which means people think they’re hitting on his gf which isn’t cool with him at all

✿ doesn’t really understand where the interpretation came from (as if you two aren’t always on dates and hanging out alone)

Hajime Umemiya ᡣ𐭩

✿ he figured those kind of rumors would have spread around sooner or later

✿ isn’t too bothered by them and doesn’t correct or address them

✿ who cares if people think your dating? if it keeps you safer he’s fine with it

✿ you started to notice something was up when valentine’s day was coming up and no one had asked you out

✿ you always at least got a chocolate or something but this year, nothing. which made you feel bummed out

✿ he was actually really irritated by the fact that you were upset no one was trying to pursue you

✿ jealous jealous boy

✿ he’s well aware of his feelings towards you but underestimated how much he likes you

✿ definitely keeps every other guy away from you on purpose

✿ he will smile sweetly when your looking at him but as soon as you have your back turned and another man is looking at you, he’s glaring at them

✿ the rumors actually made you feel more flustered than him

✿ once you two got asked how long you’ve been going out you were the stuttering mess and he was calm and happy answering their question

✿ the rumors actually started to motivate him to making his feelings known to you

✿ slow burn but he doesn’t mind how long it’ll take for you two to be together

Hayato Suo ᡣ𐭩

✿ he’s flattered by the rumors and politely tells people you’re just friends

✿ lowkey proud that people believe he can get such a pretty girlfriend

✿ even though you both shut down the rumors quickly people still can’t help but think how cute you two would be together

✿ yeah you’re just officially known as that one couple that are dating but don’t know they’re dating yet

✿ at some point you two just gave up at correcting people and went with the flow

✿ you two seriously were dating but didn’t know it

✿ the realization hit him one night and he couldn’t sleep for the rest of the week

✿ you’re still unsure of what feelings you have towards him since he’s the only guy friend you’ve ever had

✿ he doesn’t mind waiting for you and is okay with taking things slow despite knowing his own feelings

✿ you’re painfully oblivious to your own feelings and his feelings

✿ worst case scenario of gaslighting yourself into thinking “no he doesn’t like me, he’s just being nice.”

✿ constant dates that aren’t official dates

✿ you both can’t help but think “this wouldn’t be so bad” during them

Jo Togame ᡣ𐭩

✿ of course he knows about the rumors, he’s the one who started them

✿ okay, he didn’t necessarily go around telling people you were together but he didn’t correct them

✿ he didn’t correct them on purpose

✿ doesn’t have much of an excuse, he just likes how nice it sounds for you to be called his

✿ no one ever bothered to ask you about it since Togame was always with you anyways

✿ you had some airhead moments whenever people flat out complimented you two as a couple

✿ “aw, you two look so cute and happy together.” “thank you!!” you’d smile in return and then look at Togame and say “did you hear that? she thinks we’re cute friends, how nice!”

✿ once you found out people thought you two were together you were super flustered and ran to go tell Togame the shocking news

✿ “JO- did you know people think we’re dating !???!!!” “no way.” “it’s crazy right? i had no idea!” “me neither.”

✿ anyone who had eyes could tell what was happening and knew Togame had a crush on you by just seeing the way he looks at you

✿ too bad you aren’t just anybody

✿ strangely enough, you didn’t mind being confused for a couple it made you happy in some way

✿ no confessions happened but this definitely opened your eyes to your own feelings about your friend

Choji Tomiyama ᡣ𐭩

✿ someone save this man, he’s hopeless in the cutest way possible

✿ he was also under the impression that you two were together

✿ sure neither one of you ever actually asked the other out or confessed but did that really matter?

✿ he was more surprised to find out you two weren’t together

✿ “what?! people think we’re dating? Choji’s just a friend.” you’d exclaimed to a friend who came up to you two and finally asked if you were official.

✿ “just a friend??? i thought we were doing so well together.” “what are you talking about?” you’d look at him with the most confused expression

✿ he was confused as to why you were confused

✿ you were left absolutely dumbfounded

✿ you were completely unaware to his feelings, you’d assume he was just being nice the entire time

✿ he practically treats you and Togame the same, how were you supposed to know it was more than a friendship

✿ his confession that wasn’t much of a confession had you blushing madly, how are you so bad at reading signals??

✿ no, you were not gaslighted into thinking you two were together this whole time

✿ “wait so let me get this clear… we aren’t dating?” he’d ask for what felt like the millionth time

✿ “no! you need to ask me out like an actual person, not just assume we’re dating because we hang out a lot.”

✿ it was definitely a longgg day for you

[fordaryl]

Breathe.

minors dni. spencer reid x fem!reader. angst (drowning). soft confessions. office sex.

after a brush with death, long pent-up feelings are released.

do not translate or repost.

The small disused space was busy with piled boxes, an archiving chore put aside for an unspecified future day. It made the forgotten room a perfect meeting place when the office had cleared out for the night.

You saved it only for the especially hard days.

The days you needed to see him alone.

He knocks softly, like you aren't the only two left on the floor of the building at this late hour – like he doesn't know you're waiting just for him.

You wring the hem of your cardigan in your hands as he enters, as he closes the door gently behind him and twists the small lock – just to be safe.

Then you're both still. Quiet. Waiting for the other to speak first.

Your lips part. You'd planned to be the first to speak, but instead you suck in an unsteady breath. You're not in control. Not at all.

"That bad?" he asks, taking one big but hesitant step towards you.

Bad? Bad wasn't the right word. He'd meant it like you'd had a rough day in the office. Like you could sleep it off. Like it was just another heavy case and you'd come out a little worn but soon ready for the next.

He'd died.

Your eyes burn with unshed tears.

"Hey," he soothes, closing the distance between you. "I'm fine, really. Coughed up a bit of pool water, that's all. I've got the all clear," he offers you a lopsided smirk, "despite how bacteria ridden the average chlorinated pool is. I don't recommend drinking the water. If you can help it."

You blink up at him as one tear breaks free, spilling over your lower lid and down your cheek.

A complete lack of any minds eye spared you from the image of him laid out on the cold tiles — soaking wet and completely still.

Aphantasia, he'd explained to you one day a few months earlier. A woefully understudied characteristic of some people that meant an inability to visualise.

You've never been more grateful for your deficiency. It was different for him; his memories. Spencer could see them all. You often wondered how he coped.

"You drowned," you whisper into the dark room. "You were dead."

"My heart never stopped, I–"

"Spencer," you interrupt, heart racing. "You weren't breathing. You were so still and I thought I wouldn't—"

"You saved me," he says softly. "I'm okay." He reaches up to your temple and ever so gently brushes some of your hair off your forehead. It's a completely pointless gesture, apart from being the final straw, that is.

The dam bursts as his finger brushes your skin, feather-light. "I can't do it," you gasp. "I can't. I can't do it."

"Please. Please, don't cry." He pulls you against him. "I hate when you cry."

You bury your face in his neck, wetting his warm skin with fresh tears.

"You won't have to do it ever again," he says, misunderstanding your meaning entirely. "No bodies of water for me, promise."

You shake your head, too busy choking on tears to verbally correct him.

"Everything's fine," he soothes. "Ple-ase." The last word comes out a little broken, a crack in his voice splintering the vowels in the middle.

You pull back from him, enough to look up into his sad eyes. "I didn't mean... I mean't..."

His thumbs wipe at your cheeks.

You suck in a shaky breath. "I mean't... I can't feel all this anymore. I'm so afraid." Another shaky inhale. "Every day. Anytime you aren't near me..."

His hands drop from your face. Confused. This was his confused face. He was attempting to interpret.

"I can't make it go away," you whisper. "I love- I love you and every day you might..." He's blinking at you, a lock of wavy hair falling over one of his eyes. You need him to speak now, take some of the weight off you. You're so tired. "I'm afraid," you confess again. "You can't do that again. Please. You can't–"

"You love me?"

You pause, processing his simple words. Then, "You didn't know?"

He blinks. Again, "You... You love me?"

"Yes," you breathe. A release. "Of course. I'm in love with you. I thought you... how could you not know? I—"

"You've never told me."

He says it simply. Like that's the only way he could possibly have known. You didn't tell him, therefore how could he ever interpret your blatant lovesick adoration as anything other than friendly consideration.

Everyone else knew. The entire team had known about your crush from the earliest days. Some of them had known before you had figured it out yourself.

But not him. Apparently.

"I'm sorry," is what you find yourself saying, eyes burning again. You drop your eyes to the floor. "I'd really.... I'd like to stay friends. Please." You pick at a loose thread in your cardigan, a consequence of your nervous habit. "I need you, I think. I think I need you."

Every move he makes after the last word of your confession leaves your lips is incredibly delicate; he's slow and almost cautious as he hooks his fingers under your chin.

He looks sad when your eyes meet his. He's doing that thing that always leave your chest aching. They're big and dark and so, so full of feeling. "Don't cry," he whispers again.

You nod, like you have any control at all. Anything to stop the sad eyes.

Then he's leaning down. His lips ghost against your cheek, just enough to collect a tear. Then the other cheek. Just a brush of soft lips to wet skin. Then he's ghosting over your lips. His final word is so quiet you almost miss it. It's so quiet you aren't entirely sure he meant it for your ears at all.

"Please."

His lips are wet against yours when he finally closes that tiny little gap. It's too much for your entirely overwhelmed and exhausted mind to process properly. Your fingers drop the hem of your cardigan, suddenly lax and completely free of any responsibility.

His hand rests at your lower back. You're grateful for the support, for the grounding. You're not entirely sure that you'd stay standing otherwise.

He's kissing you. Which means... something. It means something that you'll spend many hours thinking about... some other time. Some time when he's not kissing you. Right now, right now you think you'll just think about the way he feels. Or maybe the tiny sound he makes when he steps into you, like he can somehow get closer. Like you weren't sharing a single breath.

You're half convinced you might wake at any moment. Like this might be some fucked up dream your brain has concocted to contrast the cold kiss you'd been forced to share hours earlier as you'd forced oxygen into his lungs.

No.

No, he's too real; too warm and solid. He presses you against the edge of the desk. It cuts into the backs of your thighs.

You're awake.

He releases your lips only to pull you firmly against him, his arms wrapping around you tight. It's a desperate sort of hug. One you might give a loved one after a long separation... or a close call.

You lift your arms to join him, to add an extra layer of security to the embrace—lest someone try and pull you apart.

His lips press into your neck as he buries his face into you. Closer, the action screams. You understand the feeling entirely.

"You love me, too?" you mumble against his skin.

His head moves as he hums. Yes. He loves you.

He loves you.

You grasp at his shirt, the stiff fabric of the dress shirt crumpling in your fingers as you attempt to get a firm hold. You just think you've managed a secure grip when he's tugging you back and pressing his lips to yours again.

It's different this time. Desperate. You understand that, too. Desperate is disorganised. Desperate is irrational. Desperate is messy.

Messy is fine.

Messy is wet kisses and marks on your neck. Messy is the noise the lamp makes when it hits the floor. Messy is the way his hands tug at your cardigan and grip your thighs when he finally has them bare.

Messy is nice.

He's halfway over you eventually, using the desk to lay you out beneath him. "This okay?" he gasps between kisses. "You're okay?"

"Mm," you hum into his mouth. "Yeah. Yeah. I love you."

His lips leave yours in a lingering sort of way, like neither of you are willingly to release the other. But still, he manages it. "We shouldn't do this here," he says, a little breathless. His fingers press into your thighs as he says it.

"But I want to."

He looks at you like he's calculating, interpreting. You know you must look a mess. Your lips feel a little tingly with the nips he's given you. That's something you didn't expect from him. You'd always imagined his kisses to be gentle—sweet and soft.

His eyes drop to your lips like he's heard your thoughts. "Yeah?" he breathes. "You really... you really want to?"

"Please."

His jaw clenches once before he's falling over you, his body weight pressing you into the wood beneath you.

His lips brush against your neck when he speaks next. "Anything you want," he mutters as his fingers trace up your inner thigh.

By the time he finally presses himself inside you, you're on the brink of tears again. You're lost, you realise as he whimpers into your neck. Everything depends on him. You may as well crawl into his chest and make a home there. You're reliant on his survival in the same way you're reliant on your own heart beating.

He whimpers again as you clench around him. "Please," he gasps on an uneven breath. You're not sure what he's asking for. You curl your fingers in his hair. He could be asking for anything at all and you're sure you'd give it to him. Anything at all.

[wlw-imagines]

Behind The Curtain - Amelia Shepherd/Reader (Grey’s Anatomy)

request: Could you do a oneshot with Amelia Shepard where they both work at the hospital and are secretly dating. One day Arizona or Meredith or somebody catches them making out and then teases them about it the rest of the day. You're writing is fantastic! Thanks for reading this :) - anon

a/n: these are from my old tumblr thefandomwritings from back in 2018 ! re-vamped and re-purposed!! hope u enjoy and forgive the 2018 me style writing

Keeping your relationship with Amelia secret had been pretty easy for the two of you.

Whilst you were rarely seen venturing further than paediatrics ward, Amelia was similarly tied down to Neuro, being a neurosurgeon, and to whatever various tasks kept her occupied elsewhere in the hospital. Therefore there was never any need to cover anything up about your long-term relationship.

It had begun as a late night fling, early on in your careers at Seattle Grace - you had both finished a shift at the same time and walked into each other as you were buying a coffee.

She smiled sleepily, her eyes bleary as she gripped the coffee cup, “Y/L/N, right?”

You nodded at the correct name, and also in recognition of the woman in front of you, “Amelia.”

“Coffee? At this late hour?” She smirked, a twinkle growing in her eyes.

You couldn’t help but let out a laugh, “I could say the same for you.”

Amelia shrugged and started walking at your side, “I won’t get any sleep any time soon anway, what’s your excuse?” She raised an eyebrow as the two of your left the cafeteria.

“Same.” You shrugged, before turning back to face her and fully reigstering the look in her eyes. You took a slight risk, hoping it was the correct one, “Want to come back to mine? We can talk about how shit life is and commiserate together?”

“I’m less of a talker, more of a do-er.” She caught your expression of a raised eyebrow and shook her head, “Not like that!”

“Hey, we can do whatever you want to do.” You laughed, “I can make us more coffee at home? Stronger coffee.”

“Okay. I’d like that.”

You were fortunate really because whenever you were around one another your love was probably too obvious and your relationship was something that you felt didn't need to be known by everyone yet. So, the longer it could be kept a secret, the better. There would be no complaints of favouritism in surgery and no teasing during late night shifts, it was just straight up easier.

And while normally the distance between your areas of expertise was in your favour, sometimes, on the rare occasion, the paediatrics and brain surgery teams would collaborate. It was at time like these that it was much more difficult to keep your hands off each other.

The day had started with Arizona rushing towards you, a stressed look on her face reserved for only the worst cases. "We have a nine year old girl coming in with serious unspecified head injuries. I've paged Lady Shepherd so she is on her way up, you'll be following the case with me." She rushed out, no time to pause.

"Wait, I... Lady Sheph- Amelia is being given the case?" You asked, your heart hammering slightly once you heard the name.

"She is our in-house neurosurgeon so, yes. She is. Do you have a problem with that Y/L/N?" The woman quirked an eyebrow up at you, giving you one of her looks that you could hardly ever interpret so you just stuttered away.

"N-no, not at all. That's fine, it's great. Good for her." You stumbled through some random words that didn't even really make sense in the situation before you were interrupted by your girlfriend walking through the doors.

There was just something about her in authority and her scrubs that turned you on and that was why you were better off separated. So you found yourself relatively lucky to not be included in the team that went into surgery.

You avoided the viewing platform. But even when you were stuck outside doing paperwork you still found yourself too distracted, your mind wandering off too many times, thinking of what you would do to the woman once you were in the safety of your own apartment. 

It was going to be a long day.

You had waited until the surgery was finished until you snuck into a call room. Amelia had been walking past when you attempted to (subtly) pull her into the  room with you. You immediately closed the door and pinned her up against it, making an attempt to lock the door before Amelia flipped the tables and pushed you against the wall. The look in her eyes immediately brought back memories of how your relationship had initially begun.

"What are you smiling about?" She asked, pulling back with a confused look on her face.

Leaning forward, you kissed her nose and hummed slightly, "I love you, is all." 

The smile remained on your face as you leant slowly in. Your lips connected and the kiss only became more passionate as the pent up frustration of long, hard days and not seeing each other as much as you needed to built up. You weren't even in there to hook up like you always used to, you just need to be close and be together.(Although, shirts were beginning to be unbuttoned...)

You were vaguely aware of footsteps approaching but you were too caught up with Amelia and had just assumed they had passed. That was until you heard a small gasp coming from the doorway.

Amelia and you pulled away from each other as quickly as you could, your girlfriend stumbling back and almost falling over had it not been for you grabbing her waist and wrapping your arms around her to prevent the fall.

Once she was secure you turned your head back to whoever had interrupted with a smile that was as innocent as you could make it before clearing your throat, "Arizona... Hey."

"Well, I was not expecting this...” A small grin spread across her lips and she let out a gleeful laugh, “Actually, you know what I kind of was. Y/N's been acting strange." Arizona smiled with an evil twinkle in her eye, "I can't believe you guys haven't told me!" You quickly shushed her before pulling her into the call room and closing the door behind her. "I love you guys but at least buy me dinner first..." She joked, earning a light slap on the arm from you.

"What are you doing?" You asked, running your hand through your hair and starting to fidget.

Arizona paused, "I was going to take a nap... in the call room. Because that's what-"

Your girlfriend looked at her watch and shrugged at you, "Look at the time, I've got to go." Amelia, spoke up from the corner, sliding out the door without another word.

You went to walk after her but turned to Arizona who was still standing there with a smile on her face, "You scared my girlfriend away." You pouted.

Arizona just wrapped her arms around you and rocked you side to side, "I'm so proud of you!"

"Shut up."

"But you're both so cute."

"Shut up!" You pushed her slightly, laughing.

"And you've finally found someo-"

You gave her one last look before opening the door, "Okay, I'm leaving now!" You said, walking out.

"Love you." She yelled after your disappearing body.

"Love you too." You yelled back before adding on, "And don't you dare tell anyone!”

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

"Y/N," You jokingly rolled your eyes when confronted with Arizona leaning on the nurse desk with a big smile on her face. You prepared yourself for the teasing that was inevitably about to come and pretended to be more interested in the paperwork in front of you. The teasing over the past week had been neverending, "Listen, I know I've been making fun of you and your girlfriend all day and I just wanted to let you know that I support you 100%. I promise that I won't let anyone know of your little secret, okay?" You visibly relaxed and looked back up at her.

You smiled, putting your hand over hers, "You know, you didn't need to tell me that. I trusted you from the beginning but thank you all the same."

She nodded and went to leave before turning back to you, "By the way, I've given your girlfriend a little gift - you may want to go up and say hi. She's in the nursery."

Confused, you frowned slightly but didn't question it as you nodded and made your way to the other side of the ward, where all the newborns are kept.

You stepped in front of the window looking into the nursery and felt your heart skip a beat to see Amelia cradling one of the babies. She caught your eye and her eyes twinkled slightly as she looked down at the baby in her arms. You sighed blissfully and stepped into the room.

"Are you terrorizing the children?" You asked, looking around at the other 3 cribs, each holding a tiny, delicate baby. You stepped closer to Amelia, putting an arm around her lower back and looking down at the baby.

"They're our kids without any home, or parents." Amelia whispered, rocking the baby slightly before shifting the pink blanket to cover her head and little waving hand that had fallen out when she was trying to reach up to your girlfriend. "I kind of thought you were just going to end the sentence at, 'they're our kids' and then you would have a lot of explaining to do."

"Surprise!" She sarcastically cheered before one last rock of the baby. Between the two of you, you managed to safely get her back into her cot and tucked up in her blanket before sneaking out the door.

You both stood in each other's embrace for a while, just soaking in each other's love and company.

"Y'know, maybe it's good that people know about us - especially Arizona." You mumble, longingly staring at the bundles left in the nursery, "if it gets us perks like getting to cuddle cute babies during work then I'm so up for coming out to everyone." You joked.

Amelia just nodded, "Me too." You looked up, slightly surprised as it hadn't really been something you had discussed yet. "Hey, you want to stay at mine and get chinese tonight?"

"Do you have the house to yourself?" You asked with surprise, since these are the only times you get to stay round and even then it is like a military mission. "No, it's a full house tonight. I'm introducing you to them."

"Babe, you realise I know your friends and they know me. We're part of the same friendship group."

"I know, but I get to introduce you as my girlfriend." She grinned and began walking back down the corridor, back to work before yelling over her shoulder, "Plus I get to show them pictures of our children!"

[cuubism]

I tried to be creative for a hurt/comfort thing but you know what, I'm a very predictable creature of habit who likes what I like lol

A go-to headcanon of mine for canon or human au is that Hob's love language is providing food just as like, a caretaking thing. But of course Dream interprets it as Hob thinking he's ugly for being so skinny. 🥺

🤘five-and-dimes

@five-and-dimes this slots in well with math au so it had to be math au ☺️

--

"Dream?"

Dream doesn't realize he's drifted off mentally until Hob calls his name. It's possible he's called it more than once and Dream didn't hear. It must be some special level of dysfunction to be able to get so distracted during sex. All week he has thought about Hob, watched the play of his hands on his keyboard and wished they were on his skin, watched the flex of his arms as he ties his hair back, studied his mouth as he chewed on the end of a pen. Now he is here, and yet he's not. Here.

"Are you alright?" Hob continues when Dream just kind of keeps staring at him. "You're like. Not with me at all. I don't know where you are."

Dream doesn't know where Dream is either. Technically he is lying in bed with Hob kneeling between his thighs, and they haven't even gotten fully undressed yet. Hob's hands are still resting lightly on his hips, thumbs hooked under the waistband of his jeans. Dream is suddenly aware of just how sharp his hipbones are when he lies like that, the jut of bone visible through his skin.

He pushes himself up to sitting, dislodging Hob's hands. "I am fine."

"Sure," Hob says, not wholly convinced. "Long day I guess?"

Dream hums noncommittally.

"Want to watch a movie instead?"

"Yes," Dream says, though still distracted, "very well."

Hob moves away to grab his shirt, and Dream watches the flex of his shoulders, the strength of his back and bend of his neck. And he wants, and for a moment he considers saying, no, come back, I want-- but when Hob turns back to him it dies in his throat.

He puts on his own shirt, and Hob pulls him close, lets him settle between his legs, his back to Hob's chest, as he takes his laptop from the nightstand. "I heard about this one, supposed to be using maths to solve time travel. Figured we could watch and you could tell me all the ways they're wrong and stupid."

Hob knows him too well. "You have no confidence that the maths could be correct?" he says.

"Do you?"

"...No," Dream admits, and Hob laughs.

"It'd be no fun if it was right, anyway. Your commentary makes it way more entertaining."

Dream leans back in his arms as Hob boots up the movie, and then it feels easy again, comfortable again, as they fall back into their familiar pattern.

He doesn't know what was wrong with him before.

--

Dream likes to steal Hob's sweatshirts. He runs cold, but often forgets to bring extra layers with him when he goes places. Or perhaps he is intentionally forgetting to bring his own, so he can steal Hob's. Hob never seems to mind, after all.

And Hob's clothes are not so different in size to his own, they are almost the same height. Hob has broader shoulders than he does, but Dream never feels like he is swimming in Hob's clothes.

Except for now.

He's studying the way the sleeves of Hob's sweatshirt lie on his wrists, comparing it to the way they had looked on Hob's wrists when he had worn the same sweatshirt just this morning, before Dream had stolen it. Have his wrists always been this narrow? The jut of the ulna so sharp where the hem of the sleeve hangs? Has he always looked this bony, when contrasted with soft fabric?

"Hey, love, you hungry? I made you something."

Hob is standing before him, holding a bowl. He places it down on the table before Dream.

"Made me something?" Dream echoes.

"Dinner," Hob says. "You didn't eat anything today."

Did he? Perhaps not. He often doesn't, at least not until Hob reminds him. Which he often does.

"It's green curry," Hob says, pushing the bowl closer to him as if trying to tempt him to take a treat. "One of your favorites?"

Dream does not know if he is really hungry, but Hob is a good cook and besides, it will make him happy if Dream eats it, so he takes it.

Seeming satisfied, Hob gets his own bowl and sits down across from him, tucking in as Dream starts delicately picking at pieces of green bean and pepper, small spoonfuls of rice soaked in curry. It is, in fact, very good. He is just. Out of sorts, perhaps.

But he eats it, slowly, because he knows Hob will be happy. Hob is always happy when he manages to feed him. Perhaps Dream truly doesn't eat enough. Perhaps he is getting too bony.

He tries not to study his wrists as he holds the spoon.

--

Dream is... not having a good day. He doesn't fully know why. He often doesn't. Regardless, he's lying in bed, music blaring in his headphones, staring blankly at the wall, when Hob gets back from class in the evening.

He doesn't realize it's time for Hob to come back until Hob is creaking open the bedroom door, letting a sliver of light into the cocoon Dream's created. He says something, which Dream doesn't hear on account of the music he's blasting at maximum volume.

He takes out his earbuds as Hob repeats it. "Hey, love. You want some tea? A snack?"

Dream lifts his head to find that Hob's set down a cup of tea and a piece of toast with what looks like almond butter and honey on the nightstand.

"It's seven p.m.," Hob continues. Dream hadn't realized it was so late. He doesn't remember exactly when he laid down. "Have you eaten?"

He's sure Hob already knows the answer to that.

Dream sits up and takes the toast, as bidden. And then just. Stares at it.

Hob lays the back of his hand against Dream's forehead. "Are you feeling alright?"

"I don't know," Dream says. But he is not sick in the way that Hob means. He sets the toast back down and takes the tea instead, sipping it slowly.

"You don't feel warm." Hob lets his hand fall. "Should eat the toast, if you can. Do you want company, or should I leave you be?"

Dream swallows hard to clear the lump in his throat. Hob is... so tolerant of his oddities. "Company. If you can tolerate my silence."

"I can cope." Hob fetches his things, and soon enough he's sitting beside Dream in bed, laptop open. Dream leans against his shoulder. Hob's body is soft enough to be comfortable to lie against, while Dream's shoulder is... sharp. When Hob lies against him, are all of Dream's bones just jutting into him?

He sits up again, picks up the toast. If he ate enough almond butter toast he might not be so sharp-edged. But eating an amount of toast that hits even a baseline caloric requirement is already hard enough.

He eats it slowly and tries to pretend it doesn't stick on the way down.

--

When they were teenagers, Desire used to make fun of Dream for being too skinny. "It's all in the name of love," they'd sing, "just don't want you to end up alone, that's all." Then they'd poke him in the ribs--"You're so bony"--and start giggling.

It didn't help that Dream had jumped ahead two levels in school, and already felt gangly and awkward in comparison to everyone else in his year, who were invariably older. As years passed, he grew out of those awkward teenage proportions, but never lost his thin, angular frame.

Hob, for his part, still has a bit of youthful ranginess to him, but Dream thinks he will fill out wonderfully as he gets older. He does not know what will happen to himself.

What he does know is that Hob keeps trying to feed him.

He'll make breakfast for him, if he stays over. Even if Hob himself needs to run out the door to class with nothing more than a granola bar, he somehow manages to make sure there is something for Dream. He's always making Dream's favorite foods for dinner, more often than not foods Dream barely remembers ever mentioning. He brings him tea in a thermos when Dream is up late working in his favorite classroom.

Dream does not know what to do with this. He is finding it harder and harder to eat what Hob makes. He doesn't know what's wrong with him.

When he gets home from class, he finds that Hob is gone, but he's left an entire container of muffins on Dream's kitchen counter. Zucchini muffins!! the note taped to the lid reads. Very tasty and nutritious too!! ❤️

Dream stares at them for a long time, a lump in his throat. Then he closes the lid, carefully latches it so they won't go stale, and retreats to his bedroom.

--

Dream is straddling Hob's lap and he should be enjoying himself but he cannot. Stop. Thinking.

About how sharp his knees and ankles look. How Hob can definitely feel his ribs where his hands are laid on Dream's waist. About the deep cut of his collarbone, made more evident by the way he's wrapping his arms around Hob's shoulders as they kiss. Does Hob think about it? Does he look at Dream and wish there was softness to touch, instead of these hard edges?

"Dream," Hob says, still close enough that Dream feels his breath as he pulls away from the kiss. "Where are you, love? Because it's not with me."

It all feels so obvious when Dream thinks about it now. He got used to not thinking about his own body but it's impossible to ignore when he's pressed up against Hob, when he's only in his underwear. Hob has seen him, and touched him, and is always trying to feed him, and he would never say anything because he isn't mean but it must bother him, that Dream is so, is so--

"Do you think I am wrong?" he asks.

Hob just stares at him, thrown. "What?" he asks. "Wrong about what?"

"Wrong," Dream repeats. And suddenly he can't stand to be exposed like he is, and disentangles himself from Hob, reaching for the nearest article of clothing--which ends up being Hob's sweatshirt, the one he likes to steal. And so he ends up just holding it to his chest instead of putting it on, frozen.

Hob reaches for him, then lets his hands fall. "I don't understand."

"You want me to eat more," Dream says.

"I-- yeah? You barely eat one meal a day, of course I want you to eat more?"

Dream nods to himself, clutching Hob's sweatshirt closer. It all makes sense now. He doesn't know why he didn't understand it earlier. Or perhaps he did, subconsciously.

The wave of sadness that catches him under his lungs is more powerful than he anticipated. But at least now he understands.

"I don't know what conclusion you're making, but somehow I don't think it's right," Hob says. He reaches for Dream again, and this time wraps his hand around his wrist, slides down over the bones there until their fingers are tangled together. Their knuckles lock, bone to bone.

"I am hideous to you," he says, braced by Hob's touch enough to voice it.

"What?" Dream expects Hob to move away, but he doesn't, though he does sound... hurt. "How could you think that?"

"You think I should eat more," Dream says. Even as he says it, he feels himself curl inwards again, though it only makes the angles of his limbs more prominent.

"Yeah because you can't survive on one piece of toast every two days? I don't want you to starve yourself?" Hob sounds increasingly desperate as he says it. "Honestly you've been freaking me out, I feel like even when I make stuff you like you want to eat it even less."

"I... like what you make," Dream says quietly. He slowly thinks through what Hob's said. "I thought that... you felt I was too skinny. That you would be more attracted to me if I was not so... bony. And sharp."

He is very sharp-edged all around. And Hob already tolerates the sharp edges of his personality.

"Dream." Now Hob takes both of his hands. "Don't you know I was so attracted to you the moment I saw you? I wanted you so bad. And your attention. Your interest." He plays with Dream's fingers. "Look how beautiful your hands are." He cups Dream's face in his hand. "Your jawline is literally to die for. Modeling agencies would sign you."

Dream makes an expression of distaste at the thought, and Hob laughs.

"I know, you'd hate that." He kisses the tip of Dream's nose. "But the point stands. You're gorgeous." He runs his hand through Dream's hair, making it stick up all over the place. And the way Hob looks at him then makes any objection die in Dream's throat, makes him want to crawl into Hob's lap and press against Hob's body and let Hob do anything to him. "I mean, look at you."

A blush rises to Dream's cheeks. "So. You do not want me to eat so that I will gain weight."

"I want you to eat so you don't fucking die," Hob says, and something about the dramatic phrasing of it makes Dream laugh, and then Hob laughs, too, and pulls him close, pressing Dream's head into his shoulder.

"I am like a recalcitrant pet to you, then," Dream says, and Hob chuckles.

"Too right. You can lead a Dream to avocado toast..."

Perhaps... Dream might be better at being led. Now that he knows why Hob is doing the leading.

“I love you,” Hob says, kissing Dream’s temple. “And your ridiculous cheekbones, you angelic creature. You’re so incredibly beautiful.”

Dream’s blush only deepens, and he hides his face in Hob’s shoulder. Hob rubs a hand up and down his bare back, catching on the knobs of his spine. He holds Dream close until Dream’s embarrassment subsides and he feels able to lift his head again.

When their eyes meet again, Hob just smiles. “Can I show you?” He traces his thumb over Dream’s lower lip. “How much I want you?”

Dream nods, tongue dabbing at Hob's thumb. Yes, he wants. He wants Hob. And he wants Hob to want him, desperately he wants it, for Hob to think he is desirable, no matter how embarrassing it may be to feel that want.

Hob kisses him again, pulling him close so Dream is half in his lap, tangled up in him again. Dream chases his mouth. And each touch of Hob's hands over the hard bend of his hips or the sharp wings of his shoulder blades, just as passionate and determined as Dream could have ever hoped for, makes him feel better, until he's not thinking about the shape of himself at all, just the feeling of Hob's touch, and his own pleasure.

And, maybe, the tea Hob might make for him afterward.

[oh-saints]

Hi I don’t know if you’ll get this but I have an idea for Rúben Dias, he starrs crushing on the female photographer for Man City and his teammates start teasing him, he doesn’t want to admit his feelings because he thinks the photographer is dating someone ( but she’s actually single and is just introverted)

aaaaahh this feels close to home bcs i'd gotten mistaken so many times by men due to my introvert nature /sigh

silent

rúben should really stop interpreting things out of hand on his own and start asking the right questions instead.

rúben dias x photographer!you

wc: 2.7k

note: here's is my comback piece! (is that even a valid word?) i actually had this idea in mind for a while and i love writing this bcs i can see he could make this kind of cute mistake! this actually hits closer to home, too, considering that i'm an intovert as well LOL but as usual, I happen to write at dawn so this is not beta-read yet.

happy new year too, everyone! i wish you'll have a blessed year ahead <3

“cupcakes!”

you groaned inwardly, that must be jack grealish. only the 100-million man would call you with overly sweet pet names like that, and he did it so often no matter how many times you corrected him that you had a real name during the first month of your employment here. now entering your third month, you’ve long given up, but you’d renamed his contact to be jack greasy on your phone.

“come sit over with us!”

unlike your nickname, though, you hadn’t given up on his persistent request to sit amongst his set of friends because good lord could they be so boisterous their laughter sounded more like a boom in your ears sometimes. their energy simply went off the roof and your introvert self could never handle it well.

you’d have your time to photograph everyone in the bus later anyway, so you gave him a polite smile, without another word, and proceeded to sit down beside your fellow media team.

you could hear jack screaming protest “aw, come on, cupcakes!” as you took your seat. his friends were laughing on his face at your rejection.

if you have your way, though, you’d badly want to be assigned to the calmer tide of the bus. the likes of julian, kevin, bernardo were more suitable for your kind. but being the one responsible for the disposable camera and all of city’s short off-pitch videos, jack and his circus were more than a matchmade in heaven for a better result.

before you had more complaints to mull over, your colleagues turned to face you and started babbling about an upcoming short video the both of you would have to make. the plot, the script, down to deciding who’d be best to be asked for to star in the video.

“i think rúben dias would do just fine.”

being a newbie, you nodded along the names he mentioned because in all honesty, you didn’t exactly know who is who and which is which until now. two months splattered all over the men’s and the women’s team, as well as the academy, was pretty much a guarantee you’d missed out on someone.

but you always, no matter how busy you are, spared some time to browse on the player before you met them, in case it was someone you should be worried for, or someone you should be thankful of for their media-darling persona, or someone you should be working twice as hard because they didn’t know what to do. worse, someone you’d worked together before but you forgot.

for rúben dias, though… you didn’t know which one of the categories above fitted him best. you were rendered speechless at your search bar result. you could bet your entire month salary that he was someone you had yet the chance to create a content together because if he already did, you wouldn’t have that face of his wiped off your brain.

which was exactly why you should be worried.

you had never worked with someone that looks like adonis when he decides to ascend himself from olympus. or so you’d like to think rúben was what adonis would’ve looked like if greek mythology happens to be true.

sadly, nobody warned you that he was even more beautiful up close, as he strutted his way to your creator team, with a tousled hair he kept tussling against, as well as the bright smile and warm laugh he’d drop here as he went through pre-production brief. his voice was so melodic it soothed all the soreness to your eardrums—thanks to jack grealish—in one simple video production, and you mentally thought you could replay the edited video later whenever you needed to go to sleep, like an asmr or some sort, because it really felt like a blanket on a rainy day.

your heart ached at the sight because my goodness… he was simply too beautiful for your own good.

it shouldn’t be doing all that jumping and leaping and drumming, though, because those were the early signs of you getting biased.

and it could only mean one thing in every professional language possible: bad.

with your very generous pay check on the line, you couldn’t afford to fail. so that day, you made a promise to yourself to do what you had to do, and thankfully it was what your introvert self do best.

＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊

while you knew what to do, rúben—on the contrary—seemed lost.

no, the portugese was lost.

contrary to popular belief, footballers are actually smart. at least, if they are not book smart, they’re definitely street smart. rúben would like to think he’s got a bit of both worlds, so it could justify his own judgement of you.

his eyes were keen, as his job required him to do so, and he’s got an incredible sensing, enough to read a gigantic elephant in the room when there was one. the combination scanned your change in attitude on the day he first worked with you and the present time.

you were so friendly and eager to work with him, welcoming his extended hand as he introduced himself to you for the first time. he remembered your smile, blinding against the bleak manchester weather but instead of feeling cold, he only felt warmth and fuzzy all over his body.

but as the filming session went on, your smile was close to non-existent, just like the probability of the two of you running into each other again. he initially thought it was only because you got so many takes already and the job exhausted you, but he later realised you were avoiding him. as subtle as you could anyway.

at the beginning, he only thought you missed the way he waved at you. or the time when he thought you put his row of seat last for a mandatory picture in your disposable camera, for aesthetics’ sake.

the time when he offered you a ride home, though—that was the final confirmation. the weather had started snowing on some days, and you were certainly freezing by the look of your shivering shoulders and teetering teeth, so rúben offered you a ride home. but you turned down the offer, ever so politely like usual. yes, yes of course you had the rights but the most logical thing was to accept them instead of waiting for the next bus, no?

(oh, believe him, he knew she was waiting. he managed to parked far away from your sight but close enough to see that you did indeed wait for the next bus to arrive and take you to the nearest station. he knew, and he remembered that day because it was the only day he had to fight himself from running down the street just to give you another layer of coat.)

his first instinct was to think that he’d wronged you somehow during the filming. was he demanding? was he not up to your par of filming standard? was he not good enough for your cameras?

but james, your fellow co-worker, the one who worked together with you for this project, gave him an utterly confused look. “have you seen how the videos turned out? you were brilliant, rúben. and no, i don’t think i’ve heard any concerns from her about your ethics.”

so what did he still not do right that could’ve upset you?

rúben didn’t like where this was going because you’ve kept him intrigued. you kept him on his toes, bouncing lightly like a child full of curiosity. you kept him thirsty for more information about you and what makes you tick, lowkey in hope to bring out the smile rúben himself didn’t know he had missed seeing.

and if he discovered that he did indeed upset you somehow, and was somehow responsible for the disappearance of your shy smile, then he’d like to right them right away. he has to.

with that mentality, rúben took the chance to clock out earlier—which was like the seventh wonder of the world around etihad academy—in order to catch a glimpse of you on your off-work routine. he’d set himself resolved to only ask necessary questions, not more nor less, without any hidden agenda. no wishy washy, unlike his previous trials.

rúben did actually catch you for a split second. his beak was already opening, he’d only needed his voice box to produce the sound to the question in his mind, but the scene unravelled before him halted everything in him. every particle of his body, every molecule of his brain.

a black car swerved into the lane to the lobby, a pretty prestigious car at that, and the way your face lit up so brightly reminded him of the day you first worked together. it was a sight that rúben missed, it was a sight that rúben longed to see again.

he was so blinded by the ethereal view that he completely forgot his own plan, and watched as the black car swallowed his portion of small happiness of the day.

was that your boyfriend? if yes, then did you take rúben’s friendliness as a romantical advance to you? if yes, then was that the reason why you immediately put up a china wall between you two? if yes, then was he that protective or was he simply possessive?

rúben couldn’t deny his own infatuation of you. maybe it was why he was adamant to right things good between the two of you. but if you did in fact have a boyfriend, then he should find a way to reduce and silence this growing feeling—be it really infatuation or merely curiosity.

“does she have a boyfriend?”

but desperate times need desperate measures, and rúben saw ‘the black car incident’ was his sign to speed things up in order to find a concrete answer. even if it included asking jack grealish about you.

jack snorted, rather snobby. “how would i know, mate?”

“i thought you guys are close.”

“your definition of close is concerning,” jack replied as he shut his locker. “why don’t you ask her yourself? aren’t you the type to just charge at it first, think later?”

“i would’ve if she didn’t give me a cold shoulder.”

“have you tried?”

rúben was the one who didn’t hold back his snort this time. “of course i did.”

“then maybe you were asking the wrong question, mate.”

＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊

as much as rúben hated to confess that jack actually had a point, he had to give hands down. he might be asking the wrong question, he might be asking too much question, he might be asking the right question with the wrong approach.

bottom line, he’d concluded himself that he had to try until he succeeded. each time in different approach, different variables. logically speaking, it should take him somewhere for a clue. if it didn’t, it should at least tire you enough to have you spell the answer to his queries.

rúben had gathered enough information that you and your team had wrapped up filming for christmas and new year’s content, complete with kids involved and all. you were supposed to stay in the editing room, and working late on it because there was a teaser—which fell into your line of work under “short videos”—to be uploaded tomorrow evening.

he purposefully slowed his pace for anything that did not require physical activities and trainings, resulting in him also staying late to finish some of his homework—his affectionate nickname for video trainings he’d like to execute at home, in the comfort of his abode and plush suede pillows—so he could match your pace of work. he planned to catch you off guard the same way as ‘the black car’ incident.

at 8, you finally went out of your cave, precisely like his little rat had informed him before. so of course, you were startled to find rúben already standing against the railing in front of your office.

“rúben,” your voice got stuck in your throat but rúben thought it was a cute squeak. it was also a better response, rúben thought, too. you could’ve spat at him or shooed him away immediately. “what are you doing here?”

“i’m—” rúben thought about lying for a second, but he decided it’d contribute nothing to a start of a friendship. yes, friendship, because it was the bare minimum, no? “i’m waiting for you.”

your eyes widened, and that was when rúben noticed the golden specks on the orbs of your eyes. heartbreakingly stunning, solely because rúben only noticed this now.

you shifted the weight of your body from your right leg to your left one, and rúben found it endearing because he noticed that was an early sign an introvert—you, in this case—was starting to get nervous or uncomfortable. rúben hoped it was the former because that’d put you as cute as an awkward lone penguin.

“is there anything i can help you with?”

“yes, i’ve been meaning to ask you something.”

with his devastatingly beautiful look, his velvet voice and his intensely deep brown eyes, your heart palpitated so fast and so irregular that you were afraid rúben could see them falling and getting back into its designated place like a bungee jumper.

or maybe the rope snapped on its way down and never found its way up again, depending on the question about to be fired at you. at this point, your mind went funnily white, and you were ready to succumb into either pressure or temptation, depending on the question he’d fire you with.

“do you hate me?”

you seemed perplexed at his blatant question, but he’d take that reaction over anything else because it was something, especially compared to the invisible wall you’d put up since the first time you both had worked together.

“do you?” rúben pressed his voice gently, while he took a step closer to you. slowly but assertively.

the movement snapped you back to reality. you should not heed into pressure, but there was no use in lying because in reality, you really had no reason to hate him. if you had your chance, you would’ve done things the other way around.

“no, i don’t.”

another step closer. “but have you ever hated me?”

realising the 6-feet centre back was doing, you involuntarily moved backwards in the same amount of steps that he did, albeit the distance reached was certainly and significantly a huge gap you could never keep. “no, rúben—”

before you could finish your sentence, he obliterated every single space left in between the two of you and cornered you to the nearest wall. “then do you like me?”

you should be running, you should be fleeing, you should be screaming down the hill. you should be anywhere but here, trapped in between the long, strong and sturdy pair of his arms, the very same one he used to defend himself and the ball from the opponent. the very same one your eyes couldn’t lie but appreciate its masculinity.

rúben noticed the miniscule movement of your eyes, despite your tightened body language, and it brought a little smile on the corner of his lips. maybe he had indeed asked all the wrong question in all the previous times he’d had the chance.

“tell me,” rúben then pronounced your name in the way no one else could, so soft and velvet like a fine cashmere being caressed against your eardrums, that shivers ran down your entire body as if you were struck by a lightning. “please tell me that, at least.”

so paradoxic, you thought inwardly at the sensation. and you supposedly hated the way he confused you, but you didn’t this time—you didn’t even detest the way he seemed enjoying this whole thing, by the way he pulled of a subtle smirk that busted your knees slowly but surely—and it made you even more crazy because what the hell was this?

you tried to mask it off by looking him straight in the eyes. well, tried to, at least, because the moment your eyes were connected with the milkiest brown orbs that reminded you of a hot chocolate on a wintry day, you couldn’t help but look away. “what do you want me to say?”

rúben didn’t fight a full smile from blooming on his face, as the tip of his finger aligned your face gently to face his. he really likes the fact you gave him a fair fight to remain indifferent still, even when everything else of your body failed to be your auxiliary. “do you like me?”

“i do—”

“then would you like to have a dinner with me tonight?”

[live-laugh-legolas]

Hey! I really enjoy your headcanons for LOTR and will always bring a smile to my face when a new one is written. I know you probably have quite a lot of requests, but I was wondering if the fellowship could react to their crush having an injury? It could be any injury, from getting a scrap from falling off a tree to a dangerous gash on their side. I don’t know how comfortable you are with blood, or gore?, so no worries if this is not your cup of tea! Just wanted to put my idea out there and say thanks for writing these lovely headcanons from my favorite books and movies! ☺️

Awe thank you! You are too sweet. I’m a huge sucker for hurt/comfort so I enjoyed writing these :)

I kinda strayed from strictly a “crush” and this can be interpreted as crush/friend/partner, however you wish

How the Fellowship reacts to you getting hurt

Aragorn:

-He received notice and he’s on the job

-Weewoo here he comes with his chewed up herbs!

-Ok that’s an exaggeration but he is quick to help

-However he doesn’t go overboard

-If you trip and scrape a knee he will help you up and check that you’re ok

-He knows you are fine, and makes sure you know that too

-I just imagine him having the mindset of how you deal with a little kid scraping a knee where as long as they can’t see the blood they are fine

-Deal with it quickly and they will forget it even happened

-If you are genuinely in pain he is super reassuring and constantly apologizing for the sting of cleaning the wound

-Very strict with recovery rules; won’t yell at you or anything but his look of disapproval is enough to keep you in bed

Legolas:

-He is no healer, but he knows how to take basic care of an injury

-He will tease you if the injury is from something silly or simple

-But he doesn’t mean anything by it

-However if it is a bad injury; let’s say for sake of setting a scene you are shot with an arrow

-He knows how to deal with this; he’s thousands of years old so this isn’t the first time seeing this

-However for you I think he panics and will call for help

-He knows there are more capable hands for healing and he couldn’t bear doing something wrong or making it worse

-He will take the arrow out if no one else is there but he would rather be comforting and distracting you; he doesn’t want to cause you anymore pain

-It’s kinda like how surgeons generally don’t operate on their own family; it’s just too emotional and stressful

Gimli:

-He talks so incessantly when he’s nervous

-Mostly mumbling to himself as he checks you over

-Might accidentally say to himself “this is bad” before correcting himself to talk to you directly

-“No not bad, you will be fine, you are in very capable hands”

-It’s just a little knife cut, doesn’t even need stitches

-But he bandages it like your arm was nearly taken off

-He will also tell you stories of injuries he’s gotten or has seen; real nasty stuff

-It’s not helpful or calming but he’s trying

Boromir:

-He wastes no time ripping his own clothes to make a bandage

-“Boromir we have bandages” “No time!”

-That is once again an exaggeration but seriously no one knows how he still has anything to wear with how much he rips them

-He is a captain of his guard so he has seen basically every injury there is

-So he actually is quite level headed

-Unlike Aragorn who will talk to you as he patches you up, Boromir is focused and has someone else talk to you if possible; he doesn’t really multitask well

-Will kiss it better (he still does this to Faramir too much to his embarrassment)

-He is kinda relaxed about recovery rules; like he will let you walk around a bit or whatever as long as you aren’t doing further damage

Frodo:

-For a little scrape he will calmly have you sit up on the counter by the sink and he will gently clean the abrasion

-Talks you through it and apologizes that it might sting

-He’s quite calm in general, and even if he wasn’t he wouldn’t show it because he wouldn’t want to stress you out

-A more serious injury, maybe a broken bone he is super pragmatic

-He is the person you want with you because he really does stay calm to help you through it

-Asks someone to go get help while he waits with you so you aren’t alone

-This isn’t necessarily on topic but he would accompany you to any doctors appointments if you ask

-I am a big pussy when it comes to shots, and I am known to faint from blood draws; I really don’t do needles

-He would never judge for something like that though and would happily hold your hand and let you hide your face in his shoulder

Sam:

-He goes a little overboard

-Even if you just tripped and didn’t even get hurt he is fussing

-He can’t help being attentive

-No one he loves will come to harm

-The most doting if you are put on bed rest, or simply have a hard time getting around at the moment

-Seriously, he will escort you everywhere; that is if you don’t let him just do it for you

-I love how he talks to Frodo about the trolls even though he knows his friend is more focused on not dying

-Like Gimli, he will also tell you stories, but his are less gory

Merry:

-“do you want me to hit you to distract from the pain?”

-He’s a little silly about it if it’s a little scrape; and this stems from using humor to distract Pippin when he was younger and would fall

-He is a gentle and thoughtful hobbit; something that you really get to see in the books

-He is super gentle when cleaning any cut; and he gets you to talk to him as a distraction

-If it is something major you know he will get you the best care possible

-He is rich; let’s not forget that

-Like Frodo he will accompany you to appointments; they all probably would, but these two will offer before you can even ask

-Actually, he probably makes your appointments too

Pippin:

-I’m sorry but no matter your relationship to him he will laugh at first (if it’s not obviously bad)

-People falling is funny and he can’t help it

-But he will help you brush off and if you are actually hurt he immediately goes to help

-Will do the half carry where he is supporting your weight as you walk

-Even if you are significantly taller and it would be faster if you walked normally

-He is kinda at a loss for what to do so he gets someone who knows more about healing to help

-While he kinda stands with you with thumbs up “you’re gonna be fine” while sweating profusely

Gandalf:

-To be completely honest, if it’s something small he doesn’t really do anything for it

-If you are upset he will comfort you, but he wants you to be able to handle yourself if need be

-He also has things to do ya know; he’s an important man

-This is not meant to make him sound mean or dismissive; he just won’t make a fuss if you aren’t and it’s nothing to fuss over anyway

-Unless it is serious; then he is using any healing knowledge he has to help you

-My dad always says jokingly “welp, unfortunately we will have to amputate” over paper cuts and such and Gandalf would absolutely do this too

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Riddle, Rook: By Order of the Queen

I wrote this one during a very busy time for me irl so I apologize if I didn’t end off the Platinum Jacket line of imagines strongly 🙇‍♀️

A Tale as Old as Time.

A young girl, an older man, and an odd hare shared the same table. The latter two were sitting upon it, propping their feet on the cloth.

Pots of tea—each of a different design—did not match the cups. A mouse poked its head out of one, curiously staring at the girl. Bent spoons sat beside the saucers, gigantic sugar cubes floating in pools of tea.

Riddle stared at the painting intensely, picking apart the details, the rules being skirted or blatantly violated. The man and the hare are not in chairs, there’s far too much sugar in their drinks, and is there even jam properly smeared on that dormouse?

“Roi des Roses, what about this painting has captured your gaze so?”

He startled at the deep timbre at his ear, jolting back. His shoulders relaxed when he met a familiar face. His heart, still racing, was unable to be wrested under control.

Devious, tumultuous thing, the heart.

Riddle cleared his throat. “A roundabout way of asking for my opinion on this work, Rook-senpai.”

The grin the Pomefiore student wore stretched, reminding Riddle of his childhood days. Cheshire smiles and sugar-coated memories, tasting far sweeter than the hours he toiled at a desk.

“Ah, do forgive me for the sudden request! As an avid fan of art, I love to hear different interpretations of the same piece,” Rook rambled excitedly. “A painting that invokes joy in myself, for example, may bring about despair for you, or vice versa! The wellspring of human emotion, expression, and experience is just that vast.”

With an exasperated expression, Riddle folded his arms. “… Well, I was just thinking that I would never allow for this sort of behavior at an unbirthday party. It would be an affront to the spirit of Heartslabyul.”

And yet…

His chest ached so longing when he looked at the illustration. A taste that remained long after he tried to wash it down. It drew a word out of him, pulled thin.

“However… I must admit, I feel a little envious of their quaint little tea party. It looks…” He grasped for the correct adjective. “… fun.”

Rook’s brows sprung up. “Fun!”

“You disagree? Or does it perhaps surprise you that the rose-red tyrant would make such a remark?”

I know what they say about me. The thought was tinged bitter like medicine as he swallowed.

“Non, non.” Rook wagged a finger, his eyes half-lidded. “You are correct in every way!”

“I beg your pardon?”

The Pomefiore vice dorm leader placed a hand on his chest. “My immediate family is quite large and likes to keep busy. Those few precious times when we are able to steal away and sit down for a meal with one another… Those are the most magical of all.”

“We each fall into our seats and—like a match struck, the moment comes alive. Words and laughter flow like fine wine, enhancing the flavor of the food that touches our lips. The weariness of study and work melts away in the dishes and drinks, replaced with good company in a safe, warm haven.

Riddle squinted at his senior. Suspicious. “… What is it that your family does for a living again?” When met with Rook’s still dubious smile, he sighed. “Well, I suppose it’s fine so long as you’re not hurting anyone.”

“Fufufu. Roi des Roses, I see that you’ve considerably lightened your evaluation of the rules.”

Riddle made a pensive sound, not confirming nor denying. “Mmm. Lately I’ve come to a realization.”

“And what might that be?”

He hesitated. “That perhaps the world as I saw it is not as it truly is.”

It feels like waking up from a dream. Tendrils of it still clinging to him as he made to rub them from his eyes.

Rook silently nodded, watching him. Not the huntsman stalking his mark, but a silent observer.

“I wonder for just how long I’ve been living in that false reality. Seeing the tea party and thinking it a disgrace…”

Something slovenly. In need of fixing. Out of line.

Wrong.

“Ah, but—” Rook raised a finger, “what matters now is that the veil has lifted. The line between truth and lies is that much clearer to you. That is the first step to any story: the beginning.”

Then his hand fell and grasped Riddle’s.

“R-Rook-senpai…?!”

The man practically glowed, his grip firm. “Now the decision to stay on the path or to stray from it is yours.”

To renounce the party or to join it, given the invitationz

Riddle pulled himself away with a frown. “Of course, within the limits of what is acceptable,” he lectured. “A minimum level of decorum is expected, even at the most ‘fun’ of festivities. Should anyone cause a disturbance in the peace—”

He raised his arm, slashing at the air once, delivering a strong blow to an invisible victim. Riddle, in his element, brimmed with smugness, arrogant as an unchallenged queen.

“—it will be off with their head!”

Without an ounce of fear, Rook laughed and bowed his head. “As the queen commands, so shall I heed her orders,” he drawled. A tilt of the head, then came a suggestion. “And if I were to drop by an unbirthday party to observe?”

“Because you asked politely, I may consider it—but see to it that you attend as your normal self,” Riddle warned. “That means I expect you to be on time, your behind planted in a seat at the table. There will be no hiding out in the bushes, no watching us from a distance. You are to stay and engage in all manner of merrymaking with us.”

“Oh la la!” Rook feigned surprise, throwing both hands up in an exaggerated act. “Is that a rule?”

“No, but they are orders,” Riddle clarified with an all-knowing smirk. “After all, it would be a shame if you disobeyed and missed out on all the fun we shall have.”

[malues]

HAIII!! I was super fixated on LOTS during my exams and it almost cost me. But it helped relieve stress at least :D ANYWAY. I got stuff I wanna say, and it’s nice to have a main creator’s opinion. But pls correct or change my headcannons or anything, I do like accuracy. :p Apologies if this is long (I literally hv no other ppl to talk ab LOTS stuff like this with)

I see Michael and CB always hv sharp teeth when rlly upset, and I interpret CB’s lil bump in his teeth as a fang. Is that a good interpretation to have? I like the idea of those two being an intimidating sharp teeth duo

Semi-related to above, I like to think operators and their patients are very super similar. Like they’re sort of fated to be that patients operator for a reason yk? Like Michael and CB mirror each other a lot in their own way, yet are so opposite. And it seemed that PB was clean and stuff, but his operator wasn’t (rlly cool mirroring). Crown and Sean just compliment each other and get along great. I’m also mostly fixated on Michael’s and CB’s dynamic, Michael and CB being a complete mental mess in their own rights, and little things like Michael likes rabbits and CB bunny ears jokes :> I also like the idea CB holds a form of resentment cuz his friends get chiller operators and he was instead locked up for months.

Also Michael seems like the type to get over-stimulated and lash out, or collapse onto herself. Would she pace around? (If so, I like to think she holds her pinwheel top still cuz it’ll spin from the air yk and it would be more over-stimulating) Does she pen click when frustrated? Does she chew? Or does she mess with her pinwheel pieces>

I also like the idea that CB throws tantrums and is prone to unintentionally lashing out, he’s over-energetic and he can’t help it. Like he lashes out at crown and his operator. Would his lashing out come from stress, fear or anxiety?

I think that’s mostly it. Uhhhh my only complaint is you should’ve made PB cry in episode 1c, I wanna see TEARS lol

Ok thank u! I’m excited for more episodes, livestreams, videos and whatever else u hv planned ^.^

I LOVE ALL UR THOUGHTS!!! ill try to answer these without giving too much away

the fangs/bumps in a characters teeth is less of an actual trait and more of a little thing i draw whenever i feel like itd be funny to show on screen, but more detailed interpretations of that are fine by me!

the relationship between operator and patient is really hard to explain, especially in a general sense. i wouldnt call it fate COMPLETELY but the patient that an operator is assigned isnt COMPLETELY random either if that makes any sense. im happy u noticed the similarities between cb and michael, and we'll get to see a lot more of their relationship as the episodes go on. both of them are very prone to lashing out if in the right context but for their own reasons. the lashouts originate from a lot of mixed emotions, but i think part of it comes from both of them thinking "Why am i stuck with this asshole?"

also i agree that i shouldve made pb cry in 1c. when faeb did those lines i was taken aback cause i didnt expect him to sound like hes on the verge of tears!!!! but i guess it makes sense

thank you for your kind words!! im excited for everyone to see whats next for the show

[hongluboobs]

ok i was cooking up another hong lu analysis thing bc i noticed SEVERAL things in his base id art the other day and wanted to share with the class but they just dropped a new one in the canto V trailer and i have some stuff i wanna talk about that one:)

My Hong Lu knowledge and interpretation is very heavily influenced by reading Dream of the Red Chamber, which may not be the best because I don’t know how much Limbus will pull from the book because it’s Long as fuck but I think it’s given me a deeper knowledge of Hong Lu.

Keep in mind this ego is NOT out yet so i could be totally off base depending on what the full animation/corrosion/sin affinities are like and this is totally theorizing but I wanted to have a go at anyway!! And this got totally out of hand so reading is appreciated :)

One of the first things I noticed here is this Hong Lu seems VERY Bao-yu. We still don’t know for sure what Hong Lu is within the context of Red Chamber (i don’t think it’ll be straightforward considering how that book works) but it’s important to note!

He has this little hat on (this is the best pic i can get atm to show it’s not a fancy hair tie, unfortunately the footage we have rn is a little scuffed)

and Bao-yu is ALWAYS depicted with a hat like this.

This could just be because that’s the appropriate outfit for Chinese nobility (I unfortunately have little to no reference point here, feel free to correct me, but from some quick searches hats aren’t ubiquitous and ESPECIALLY not ones of this style.) I think it’s worth noting because it comes up in nearly all modern depictions of Bao-yu.

There’s also the pearl Hong Lu is wearing on his neck/chest area, which is where Bao-yu wears the magic jade he was born with. His jade is translated into Limbus as Hong Lu’s jade eye, but this plus his hat and the abno’s themes REALLY makes me think we are dealing with some Bao-Yu stuff here.

Speaking of the Abno’s themes, now i can actually go over them! All we have for Walking Pearl right now is the MD event (as well as general observation), but there’s a few things that are relevant.

Just based off design, the abnormality seems to be mostly about the precious (the pearl) and the filth (the muck) intermixing. which makes sense with the EGO being named “Effervescent Corrosion” and our holders being Hong Lu and Rodya.

There’s some symbolism around greed/wealth (the offspring filled muck desiring the pearl and fighting for which one will earn it? the muck tarnishing the pearl? ) and I think we should read into that because it’s Hong Lu and Rodya who have this one and they’re both very tied to their financial status. Those two sharing an ego makes me insane for a bunch of reasons but that’s probably for another analysis piece! But duality is REALLY important for those guys and that’s a theme they’re emphasizing here with both the pearl and muck within the clam.

There’s also some elements of shelter/protection/potentially entrapment with the clam’s shell which are HUGE for Hong Lu, especially with his egos so I think those may come up.

But mostly it’s about the mixing of the precious (likely “wealth” here) and the unsavory, which works very well with what we know of the Jia family. The design likely referencing Bao-yu and thematically dealing with the Jia family makes me think each of those individual readings are more likely because they’re deeply tied together!

And now onto the MD event! I did not write this in order so I may repeat stuff here but. I realized I had to cover the design first so here we are!

First thing that stuck out of me is this portion when you choose to sample some of the clam’s slime.

Sibling/family infighting is very Jia family. It reminds me a lot of this line base Hong Lu says.

You could take this a step further because the clam is something that would typically offer shelter from the rest of the world, and even though it protects, its offspring continue to kill and eat each other.

It seems fine, the offspring have this lovely shell for protection, and they have the precious pearl held within, but even as they are sheltered and wealthy. They are still getting killed and eaten by one another! Reminds me of someone I know:)

It reminds me of some bits in the later half of Red Chamber, where family members more obviously start acting behind each other’s backs or turning on each other, some even killing other family members.

Another part of the MD event that I got something out of was the beginning portion.

using specifically jade as the color for the seawater is a Hong Lu thing. I may be reaching with this bc it’s more than likely just flavor text BUT when taking this color with the fact that there’s nothing in the water it makes me think of an important scene in Red Chamber where Bao-Yu is described as an empty shell, so I wanted to mention it. We know Hong Lu has TONS of water motifs, especially when relating to his family (see his base ego)

The main reason I brought up this section of the MD event is because of the question brought up by the last portion.

If you take one thing from Dream Of The Red Chamber into your perception of Hong Lu as a character, it should be the themes of ambiguity, duality, and being between binaries. Because he sure as hell does that a lot!!! (and i’m not just talking about his gender) He is both genuinely curious and sheltered with an urge to learn as much as he can, but he also plays dumb frequently, backpedals and asks a lot of stupid questions on purpose to maintain others’ perceptions of him. He is CONSTANTLY walking the line between truth and illusion and it can be hard to tell which is which and precisely how much is fake or real, which is why I find him such an interesting character to think about.

Tangent about Hong Lu's characterization aside, it's really easy to read this line as about his family's perceptions of him.

Hong Lu (or rather, Bao-yu) can be read as being the source of the contamination in that he is the heir of the Jia family who is just an absolute fucking failure of everything you’d want in an heir for that time period.

The clam containing the filth can be read as Hong Lu’s lies (whether conscious lies or otherwise) to himself and others about the true “filth” of his family. Really good example of this is with another bit of window dialogue, but these lies and half truths come up quite a bit if you know where to look. (what happened to cohort of kin looking to stab each other in the back at every turn???)

We already have Hong Lu’s assorted water motifs (his feet make ripples on the water in his base id, land of illusion has so much water theming and shows the Jia mansion is surrounded by water) so I think this is a reasonable analysis to make :)

There’s some other sections to the MD event, but there’s nothing of note that triggered the Hong Lu sleeper agent in my brain & also this has gone on long enough that I wanna talk about predicting some stuff for the ego!

I am manifesting Gluttony/Gloom/Wrath for this ego!!

Gluttony and gloom are in the MD event’s skill check already and I think tie in nicely with the themes. Gluttony works with the offspring in the muck killing and eating each other and themes of greed with the pearl (plus the ego is primarily green and that’s a pretty good clue) and then gloom comes up a LOT with Hong Lu’s family (Liu Hong Lu, the only one that remarks on his jade eye, is also the only Hong Lu with gloom. land of illusion requires 5 gloom resources and also relates a lot to red chamber/his family) Gloom’s also generally a stand-in for water which exists here.

Wrath in Hong Lu generally manifests in him going “yeah, maybe my family was a little fucked up actually” internally, instead of manifesting as taking direct action about the fucked up things like it works for most other sinners, and acknowledging that his family was at least partially filth and killing and eating eachother (metaphorically. maybe literally) works for that

i am not an expert on sin analysis but i wanted to take a prediction bc it’s fun :)

I have a couple of predictions for corrosion and i’ll be real they are the main reason i wrote this thing because i LOVE when bad things happen to Hong Lu!!

Since this ego seems to be referencing Bao-yu so much i can pull stuff from Red Chamber too which makes it more fun :)

First one I came up with is Hong Lu taking the place of the pearl within the clam and getting locked in there! A bunch of his egos have to do with being controlled/trapped so i think it works and it also can work as a parallel for Bao-yu’s treatment by his family. Bao-yu’s name means precious jade, and he’s often treated more like his namesake than a person, heavily controlled and never allowed to leave the Jia mansion (or, in this case, the clam.) I just think it’d be fun!

My other concept has to do with more Red Chamber stuff, notably what happens when Bao-yu loses his jade. I’m not quite there yet in the text, but from what i’ve heard he becomes incredibly unstable and essentially loses his mind. This sets the Jia family’s downfall into even faster motion and from that point things get REALLY fucked up. Since the pearl here parallels Bao-yu’s jade, I think having a reference to that part of the book would be really fucking crazy for all 5 people who have read 1800+ pages of red chanber to get to chapter 94 where he loses that thing. Also i just want to see Hong Lu lose his mind i KNOW it would be terrifying and chilling. but they may be saving that for his distortion (manifesting)

In my skimming Red Chamber table of contents to find when Bao-yu loses his jade i just found a chapter where Bao-yu’s father admires a pearl but we will just ignore that for now bc this has taken long enough to type already and that is several chapters off. but there may be more analysis when this thing actually comes out!

Thank you for reading this far!! I hope you enjoyed me looking far too deep into an unreleased ego we know next to nothing about for fun! this took WAY longer than expected to type out but i’m glad I did because I loveee telling people about Hong Lu!

There is a very real chance very little of my analysis and prediction is reflected in canon BUT please remember that truth becomes fiction when the fiction’s true and even if this doesn’t turn out to be correct now u know a little more about Hong Lu and the themes he plays with :)

[dootznbootz]

Odysseus was afraid the entire year on Aeaea in the Odyssey.

Content warnings: Rape, Sexual Coercion, Sexual assault, Sex Work, power dynamics, this will also be long as fuck as I talk too much. This is NOT a "Circe the Goddess Hate Post". I call her out but that's it. I tried to keep this neutral but still making a point (Let me know if I gotta put more)

Lots of lovely folks on here have written great essays on what Calypso did to Odysseus as it's soooo blatantly obvious there. It literally states how he cried every day and how he flinched from Calypso, very straightforward on how he was explicitly raped.

But I've noticed that a lot of people are always iffy about Circe's situation (understandably so, it's not so in your face.) She's usually always mentioned in the "Odysseus never cheated! He was raped!" posts but then the evidence is only ever given against Calypso, and then mentioning how you can't say no or disobey the orders of an immortal and how it was in exchange for freeing his men.

WHICH IS ALL CORRECT!!! But!!!

There ARE immortal/mortal couples who genuinely love each other. Dionysus and Ariadne, and Eros and Psyche are examples. Apollo and Hyacinthus. Psyche indeed becomes immortal eventually and in some versions, both Hyacinthus and Ariadne do too. But even while mortal themselves, their immortal lovers still remained respectful and loving towards them and definitely doted on them. There are definitely power dynamics at play here but there's some nuance.

Odysseus and Circe's relationship, however, is very different. We all know he slept with her at the very least once. And that was in exchange for his men being returned to humans. That was the only time it was explicitly stated. With Calypso, it tells you every night he was enchanted and slept beside her. It was the narrator speaking but Odysseus is the narrator now and it's his story. If you think he lied, this probably won't change your mind anyway.

But even if it was a one-time thing, (which isn't the only interpretation and I will have points that talk about others) then why did he stay a year? What was he doing?

I'm doing a deep dive into the year he spent on Aeaea based on evidence in Book 10 and then the beginning of Book 12. Step by step, and honestly I'm writing this for Tumblr, not as a thesis so I will be a bit more casual but still using sources. To me, it's very obvious that he was uncomfortable throughout the text simply based on the language that is used. But it's very subtle and not an outright statement of "He's been crying every day."

BTW, just so we're clear, this is not a "Circe is the root of all evil, etc." type of post.

This isn't meant to villainize her. She's an immortal being and in mythology that changes things. Everybody is morally gray. I genuinely think if we were to ask her feelings on it, she'd probably be like "Oh, yeah! Turned his men into pigs! Strange little man he was." I don't think she gave a flying fuck.

I just simply get pissed tf off when people think Odysseus was fine. It honestly disturbs me how often I'll go on other websites YouTube and see everyone call him a whore and a womanizer. It's sexism at its finest because 1.) "MaN AlwAyS wAnTs sEx" and 2.) women can't rape/coerce. THIS IS SIMPLY TO LOOK INTO HIS FEELINGS ABOUT IT.

This is also only for Homer's Odyssey, using different translations. If you want to discuss this, (I'd be happy to! Just be nice!) DON'T BRING UP ANY OTHER WORKS.

With all that out of the way, come yell with me 🤗

I've read multiple translations, as I know there's going to be bias depending on who's translating. And having done so, each one has basically the same situations described the same so that's nice for consistency. Also, there are some parts in the story that are vague and that we'll never have answers to.

Odysseus first simply sees the smoke from her chimney and then sends his men in, after drawing lots Eurylochus leads half of the men to check out the house. I mentioned here vaguely how the 2 immortals he sleeps with are both introduced while singing and weaving, which could be seen as an enchantment (which to me is most likely. They both possess magic and are goddesses). So I'm just gonna move past that. Just take a peek and come back or just know that enchantment was likely.

Next, I'll see people often joke on Tumblr about how

"Odysseus says that Polites is his best friend yet only mentions him once!"

I think Odysseus mentions his best friend, the one to jubilantly go in first, to show WHY he would go through with this. How much these comrades mean to him. That's his best friend, and there are approximately 20 others who are now pigs as well. Could you knowingly leave one of your best friends to live a life like that knowing you could've done something?

[...]Circe—and deep inside they heard her singing, lifting her spellbinding voice as she glided back and forth at her great immortal loom, her enchanting web a shimmering glory only goddesses can weave. Polites, captain of armies, took command, the closest, most devoted man I had: ‘Friends, there’s someone inside, plying a great loom, and how she sings—enthralling! The whole house is echoing to her song. Goddess or woman—let’s call out to her now!’ So he urged and the men called out and hailed her. She opened her gleaming doors at once and stepped forth, inviting them all in, and in they went, all innocence.

(Fagles, Book 10)

In the Odyssey, it's never mentioned why she turns people into animals. I think they were turned into pigs because, throughout the Iliad and Odyssey, Odysseus is often associated with boars. His men are associated with him, therefore: 🐖 Piggy. From what we know, the lads were just eating her food. With how much Xenia and hospitality are a large part of the story, they probably thought they were safe. They were GUESTS. This is especially welcome after the Cyclops and the Laestrygonians. And it literally says "All innocence". They were simply naive.

Then Eurylochus runs back, so terrified that he couldn't speak at first. He then begs Odysseus to just leave the men behind. Odysseus has shown that he does TRY to save his men when it is truly not reckless to do so.

But I shot back, ‘Eurylochus, stay right here, eating, drinking, safe by the black ship. I must be off. Necessity drives me on.’

(Fagles, Book 10)

Then the famous warning from Hermes. I've seen folks bring this up when talking about this. YES, he is literally commanded by Hermes to not refuse her if he wants his men back in basically every translation. It sounds like Circe was warned as well. When? We don't know, but it sounds like Hermes didn't pick "sides" here.

Strange that he was still like, "Sleep with each other" to both, because he could've been like, "Circe, there's this guy named Odysseus. When he comes to this island, change his men back." But who knows, maybe it was Circe's idea from the beginning and Hermes went along with it. Just food for thought.

Now here’s your plan of action, step by step. The moment Circe strikes with her long thin wand, you draw your sharp sword sheathed at your hip and rush her fast as if to run her through! She’ll cower in fear and coax you to her bed— but don’t refuse the goddess’ bed, not then, not if she’s to release your friends and treat you well yourself. But have her swear the binding oath of the blessed gods she’ll never plot some new intrigue to harm you, once you lie there naked— never unman you, strip away your courage!’

(Fagles, Book 10)

But that doesn't explain why he was there for a year afterward! Nor if he himself was okay with it, which is what I'm trying to delve into as he wasn't.

Also the knife thing? She's still immortal. It was meant to startle her. Her dad is Helios. Odysseus would've been toast, literally.

Also note this exchange wasn't a "Yippee! Hermes says I'm going to get laid!".

...just approaching the halls of Circe, my heart a heaving storm at every step, paused at her doors, the nymph with lovely braids— I stood and shouted to her there. She heard my voice, she opened the gleaming doors at once and stepped forth, inviting me in, and in I went, all anguish now …

(Fagles, Book 10)

Another translation by Ian Johnston, (they all say the same thing essentially but trying to make a point.)

I continued on to Circe’s home. As I moved on, my heart was turning over many gloomy thoughts. After I had walked up to the gateway                                                of fair-haired Circe’s house, I just stood there and gave a shout. The goddess heard my voice.                      She came out at once, opened her bright doors, and invited me inside. I entered, heart full of misgivings.

HE👏WAS👏SCARED! The tone is solemn and suspenseful. He was just told that without Hermes' help with the root, he wouldn't be able to survive and bring back his men. Circe was dangerous.

He made her swear not to harm him.

Straightaway she began to swear the oath that I required—never, she’d never do me harm—and when she’d finished, then, at last, I mounted Circe’s gorgeous bed …

(Fagles, Book 10)

Please note that she NEVER promised that to his men. His comrades did NOT have moli in their systems. He had no way of truly ensuring their safety in any way from Circe.

He then refuses to eat or speak, literally "lost in grim forebodings". If he "just got laid", then why isn't he happy? Not many men can say that a goddess CHOSE to have sex with them. He did it to get his men turned back. It was an exchange. I don't think Circe is "Evil" so maybe it slipped her mind. Or yes, she could've thought, "Hey, I got what I wanted. He's handsome enough. Homer never shuts up about how hot this guy is He hasn't brought up the pigs yet. I'll just let this play out. Maybe HE forgot. I don't have to do anything." We don't know. But Odysseus probably felt like he got deceived.

"Hey, I did my part of the deal. I slept with you. Now do yours."

She pressed me to eat. I had no taste for food. I just sat there, mind wandering, far away … lost in grim forebodings. As soon as Circe saw me, huddled, not touching my food, immersed in sorrow, she sidled near with a coaxing, winged word: ‘Odysseus, why just sit there, struck dumb, eating your heart out, not touching food or drink? Suspect me of still more treachery? Nothing to fear. Haven’t I just sworn my solemn, binding oath?’

So she asked, but I protested, ‘Circe— how could any man in his right mind endure the taste of food and drink before he’d freed his comrades-in-arms and looked them in the eyes? If you, you really want me to eat and drink, set them free, all my beloved comrades— let me feast my eyes.’ So I demanded.

(Fagles, Book 10)

He doesn't trust her despite what she had told him that he should when they sleep together. He has figured out that while she will not hurt him, his men were not a part of that oath, the men he was trying to protect in the first place.

She is then moved by how they rejoice when they see one another again. While turning people into animals for funsies isn't cool and coercion is fucked up, I think she comes to see this group as not quite friends but I think she did find them entertaining in a way.

This is very strange but I've seen some folks say that since Odysseus was pissed at Eurylochus for still not believing him about Circe is proof that "Oh he was trying to defend her!". Which??? Uh, Eurylochus was literally questioning his leadership as a whole. Calling him reckless and shit. He is captain and he's the King, he can't let that shit slide. The text literally says "Mutinous". Also if I had to sleep with someone I did not want to especially if it was to save my friends and I got called names afterward I'd get fucking pissed too.

Only Eurylochus tried to hold my shipmates back, his mutinous outburst aimed at one and all: ‘Poor fools, where are we running now? Why are we tempting fate?— why stumble blindly down to Circe’s halls? She’ll turn us all into pigs or wolves or lions made to guard that palace of hers—by force, I tell you— just as the Cyclops trapped our comrades in his lair with hotheaded Odysseus right beside them all— thanks to this man’s rashness they died too!

They stay a year. Again it's never stated that Odysseus slept with her that whole time. You could interpret that. (Honestly, I feel Circe would get bored with him? She's a goddess, she's got more important matters than mortal men. And she definitely doesn't love him.)

His men DO have to bring it up that "Odysseus has forgotten his native land." Maybe they thought they could sneak out without her knowing??? I am fucking REACHING but hold on as Telemachus did because he knew Nestor would well, be Nestor and try to coax him with "Have a meal with us! Let me tell you about how badass I used to be in my youth." But to sneak away from a goddess? Without her permission? That won't end too well. Aeolus in the beginning kicked out Odysseus when he tried to ask for another bag of wind. If she didn't want him around, she could literally boot him out. While she didn't force him to stay like Calypso did, she didn't "release" him either.

We don't know if they've been asking for a long time. Odysseus does say to Circe that they have been begging him nonstop, but he could also be saying that to try and convince her. He's good at persuasion. I think while he knew he could rely on her for food, shelter, and good advice, he still didn't feel...SAFE with her. I think he was possibly avoiding her personally.

I think HOW he asks her to leave is important to know as well.

...but I went up to that luxurious bed of Circe’s, hugged her by the knees and the goddess heard my winging supplication: ‘Circe, now make good a promise you gave me once— it’s time to help me home. My heart longs to be home, my comrades’ hearts as well. They wear me down, pleading with me whenever you’re away.’

(Fagles, Book 10)

Throughout all of Homer's works, the characters grasp another's knees when they are desperate and are literally at the other person's mercy. Priam did when begging Achilles for Hector's body back. The man who literally killed his son and was defiling his body by dragging it around. Leodes grabs Odysseus' knees to beg for his life before Ody kills him. If he saw her as a friend, and not a captor, WHY DID HE FEEL THE NEED TO BEG IN ORDER TO LEAVE?! No one, who is in a healthy relationship, has to BEG for permission to leave. Or to "Break up", if you interpret them as still sleeping together.

And even Circe acknowledges that he is there against his will!

‘Royal son of Laertes, Odysseus, old campaigner, stay on no more in my house against your will.

(Fagles, Book 10)

[...]Odysseus, man of many resources, scion of Zeus, son of Laertes, don’t stay here a moment longer against your will

(A.S. Kline, Book 10)

This is probably another reach that you can ignore but the whole "they wear me down", could be trying to appease her. "Look, you're REALLY cool, it's actually my crew that wants to leave hahahah please don't kill them"

I mentioned before how Telemachus snuck away from Nestor but that was simply out of necessity because he needed to go home now. Not rest for the night. NOW. Nestor is just everyone's grandpa. Menelaus kind of talked more but Telemachus is very straight up in "Please I have to go now" and Menelaus immediately got things ready for him. He never has to beg and clasp his knees. Telemachus was never afraid. Menelaus is a fun uncle and Helen is your cool auntie.

Back to Circe! She tells him instructions for the underworld, they were in her bedroom. But that might've been the only way to speak with her. As even Penelope is usually away from the suitors when they are in her halls, Circe may have done the same. The text never states she played hostess physically. If she was hosting in the halls during the day, why did Odysseus wait until night to talk to her? He could've just asked her while she was on her throne in front of everyone. (He did so with the Phaeacians)

Or maybe he went alone because she only swore an oath to not harm him and so he didn't want his men near if she decided she didn't want to let them go. I could be missing something here so feel free to say something. Idk if this was a pride thing on how "I don't want others to see me beg".

She has info he needs in order to go home as well. She tells him to go to the Underworld.

She gave him new fine clothes and put on pretty clothes herself but that doesn't mean they had sex. Nausicaa gave him nice clothes as well but he never slept with her.

Then he leaves. Immediately. Not even doing a headcount as he didn't realize one of his men had died. (That was negligence on his part but he wanted out) He booked it, to the UNDERWORLD BY THE WAY. Circe even had to sneak the animals he needed for the sacrifice. Odysseus even basically said "She's a goddess. She can do things mortals can't" at the end of the book. And it almost feels...Numb? Solemn? Neutral? Gives a "It is what it is" vibe.

But Circe got to the dark hull before us, tethered a ram and black ewe close by— slipping past unseen. Who can glimpse a god who wants to be invisible gliding here and there?

(Fagles, Book 10)

She’d slipped past us with ease, for who can see a god move back and forth, if she has no desire to be observed?

(Johnston, Book 10)

She's a goddess. She has magic. She can do whatever the fuck she wants.

NOW ON TO BOOK 12!!! That was long! GET A SNACK AND WATER! LUCKILY THIS'LL BE SHORTER!

In Book 11, Odysseus swears, upon all his loved ones in Ithaca, to Elpenor that he'd give him a proper burial as he's been "unwept, unburied". So in Book 12, he sails back to Aeaea to fulfill his promise.

But you know what's funny to me?

He didn't tell Circe he was there.

He didn't even go to greet Circe himself. He sent his men to go get Elpenor's body.

The biggest clue that he didn't love/trust her is that if she was his "Affair partner" then why not go see her for "one last night together"?

SHE came out herself and pulled him aside to know what happened and then gave more advice.

I dispatched some men to Circe’s halls to bring the dead Elpenor’s body. [...]

Nor did our coming back from Death escape Circe— she hurried toward us, decked in rich regalia, handmaids following close with trays of bread and meats galore and glinting ruddy wine. [...]

But Circe, taking me by the hand, drew me away from all my shipmates there and sat me down and lying beside me probed me for details

(Fagles, Book 12)

In every translation, it talks about how he sits, and she lounges/lies down. That's not sex 🙃 In some translations, it even says he tried to be with his shipmates but she pulled him away!

So we lay down and slept beside our ship’s stern cables. But Circe took me by the hand and led me away, some distance from the crew. She made me sit, while she stretched out beside me on the ground. 

(Johnston, Book 12)

Then, she gives advice about the sirens, Charybdis, Scylla, and her father's Cattle. He tries to ask if he could save all his men. She scolds him for even thinking he could try. He again books it out of there.

I think we all know it wasn't "love". But I think a lot of people think Odysseus was willing and happy with whatever this was. "Friends with Benefits", if you will. I guess you could see it that way but I will say that makes me feel itchy with the whole power dynamic and fear. I don't think folks who have that arrangement have to beg on their knees to ask if they can leave though.

I mean the entirety of Book 10 gives me the vibes of "Laughing uncomfortably because you don't want to upset the other person". To just grin and bear it.

A lot of this was just putting the text here and picking it apart step by step. What you do with this is up to you. It's rambling while banging pots and pans together.

Maybe you see him as drugged the entire year and still sleeping together, as the moli "wore off". Even then, just because her magic can't affect him, there are plenty of natural concoctions that can be created that can affect mortals.

Maybe you see the entire year as sex work in exchange for shelter and food.

Maybe he was just alongside his men the whole time under her roof and was avoiding her after the exchange. After he got asked by his men to finally leave, he would start to walk up to that room only to freeze and turn around, thinking "One more day won't hurt. Should wait until I know she's in a sympathetic mood".

I beg of you, however, PLEASE understand that there was fear and coercion throughout his entirety on Aeaea. He wasn't staying to get laid. While there is so much going on and too many things that are left vague to really know exactly what happened, it is consistent that he was scared/numb. Lots of people go through with things they don't really want to do just to appease others. There are plenty of situations of sexual trauma where one person goes through something and the other has no idea the other person isn't okay. ESPECIALLY WHEN SOMEONE CAN HARM THE PEOPLE YOU CARE ABOUT AT ANY MOMENT!

Sexual trauma is a very complicated thing and while he was scared, he definitely wasn't as traumatized by her as he was by Calypso. Calypso was a torturous hell while Circe was a year of walking on eggshells. Not comparable but I still think it should be acknowledged. It's wild because I read the Odyssey and kept thinking "Y'all are calling the sex slave a cheater? The guy who slept with a goddess to get his men back? The ultimate simp apparently doesn't love his wife??"

Things I'm adding that shouldn't affect the argument as it is not in the Odyssey but I want to mention as it's a "fun fact": Odysseus' dad was an Argonaut. Laertes probably met Circe as well, (or knew of her) with the whole purifying thing and maybe Odysseus heard his dad tell stories of her. Later myths also have Circe with the habit of turning her crushes (or their lovers) into something with Scylla and Picus.

In conclusion, Yeah, he was afraid of her. At least to an extent. And don't pull the whole "Ancient men didn't get raped". Male victims exist and deserve compassion for what was done to them and women are capable of sexual abuse. If you think otherwise, you are not a true feminist and Fuck you. I said in the beginning this'll be casual and I don't wanna write a fancy ending. You can still think Circe is neat but you have to know that this was fucked up.

If you think a lot of this is bullshit or wanna give more context or wish to yell with me but still know he wasn't alright on Aeaea, cool. If you want to point out mistakes or something I should keep in mind with interpretations then feel free to say so but give text evidence. If you try and bring up the Telegony and/or Madeline Miller's Circe, fuck clean off. This is Homer. If you call Odysseus a whore and not the malewife he canonically is I'll start biting. 😤

[brawlingdiscontent]

Something that I haven’t seen a lot of people commenting on but that I think is so brilliant is Interview with the Vampire’s conflation of vampirism and queerness in the first couple of episodes (related to a long history of art and literature connecting these concepts metaphorically).

In 1.1, we see Louis react to vampirism AS IF it is queerness. When Lestat first wields his vampiric powers Louis is surprisingly unphased, referring to them as “tricks” and persistently asking how he accomplishes them, with Lestat demurring. We can read this exchange as calling on a well-established trope of queerness being metaphorically tied to secrecy (including through being closeted). When Lestat whips out these powers during dinner (pun intended), Louis chides him, “Don’t do that shit here—not with my family,” in a way that feels like he's saying “it’s fine with me but don’t be queer in front of them.” Later, Lestat’s ‘petit coup’ counts as their first sexual encounter. They start making out, but the only climax that we see occur between the two of them is via the blood-drinking. And the way that Louis reacts afterwards, shying away from the intimacy of the act, feels much more accurate to internalized homophobia post-gay sex (which they arguably didn’t technically have), than being bitten on the neck and having one's blood sucked. This conflation carries into Louis’ confession that “the Devil is in New Orleans,” which we can read dually as Louis finally having suspicions about the killing-people part, and as referring to Lestat’s queerness—as seen particularly in the line “I laid down with a man. I laid down with the Devil.” 

We also see this play out in 1.2 in how Louis is shown to be newly a vampire AND newly queer/out as queer. Louis’ mother reads the signs of his vampirism as queerness, noting him “getting his nails done,” and the sunglasses to hide his vampiric eyes as, “some fashion men like him do.” We see this outward projection also with the tractor salesman. Upon first setting foot in the townhouse he says “just to be clear here, gents, we are here to talk about farm equipment” (i.e. 'no gay funny business'), and then, when Louis bites him, yells—’I knew it! I knew you—‘ even though biting someone’s neck to drink their blood is arguably not an ordinary part of queer courtship (someone correct me if I’m wrong here, small sample size).

The final piece of this delicious pie comes when the show explicitly addresses this conflation between vampirism and queerness in the conversation between Louis and Daniel in 1.2: Louis: …Death, rebirth, coming out, homicide… Daniel: …you robbed a daughter of her father… how’s sexuality play in that? Louis: It’s a complicated question, Daniel. 

I ADORE that show crosses over here from what is usually a metaphorical equivalence into the actual. Queerness isn’t just a metaphor for vampirism: they are ontologically indistinguishable! Which lends them both a refreshing kind of substance. It feels like such a fitting tribute to a long history of queer authors/artists who could only hint. And it’s not just speaking to vampirism specifically. The show takes in a whole tradition that configures queerness as monstrous and unnatural, including a homophobic/queerphobic norm/mainstream, and queer folks appropriating this metaphor in insider ways, and screams back, “YES, AND?” in full Romantic/gothic glory!

(It also creates this really interesting tension in the show going forwards in a number of ways, with Louis denying he’s a killer/his vampiric nature, Lestat interpreting Louis' rejection of vampirism as a rejection of him, etc.)

[lemotmo]

I am confused by people on the daily but sending it to you because I loved her response. She has to be exhausted by her inbox 😭. I don't know how you all handle this.

Q. I need a few things explained to me. I will say upfront I am camp Tommy. The article did not seem pro Tommy and Buck to me, but plenty of my Tommy peers were thrilled with it, but so were Buddie fans so there is a disconnect in someone's interpretation. It was unnecessary for Tim to have brought up Eddie there. They weren't talking about Eddie, it was inappropriate. It doesn't matter that Lou and Oliver never did a chemistry test, they're fine together. Why do people care? Lastly Oliver clearly has an agenda. It would not have killed him to hold that picture of Ryan for another day. He could have let us have our confirmation that Tommy is indeed back and maybe shared a pic of him instead of Ryan. Lou can have BTS stuff too.

A. The article speaks for itself. It doesn't require interpretation. Tim mentioned Eddie because they're all part of the same storyline. Period. People can choose to ignore that fact if they want but it won't change the storyline. Eddie is the point. Eddie has been the point. That theme is carrying over into this season. Buck's relationship with Tommy is going to play some part in whatever Eddie's self discovery is going to be. Tim wouldn't have mentioned Eddie in relation to the pair otherwise. Someone can correct me if I'm wrong but I don't think TV shows do chemistry reads unless it's a long term thing. If it is just for a particular plot or storyline they will cast the actor that best fits the plot purpose. The chemistry is secondary to the overall plot so I'm not at all surprised that they didn't do a chemistry read. Their chemistry isn't the point. The storyline he was cast for is the point. In this case the plot purpose is Buck and Eddie. Eddie told Buck him being bi wouldn't change anything between the two of them when in reality everything is going to change. That is the point. Oliver's chemistry with Lou isn't relevant in any way.

I would not look too hard for him in any BTS. And I know you won't believe this but I think that is for your benefit. Why give you anything that may lead you to believe he's anything other than a plot point? They shouldn't include him. It's not realistic. And feeds into something that has already been taken way out of context. Lastly, Oliver does have an agenda. He always has. He always offers counter programming to the canon. It will not change unless the canon becomes Buddie. He has been this way from the beginning. And he doesn't owe anyone an apology for that.

Thank you so much Nonny. As always, much appreciated.

*sigh*

I really feel like everyone should just give Ali a break here. She has explained this over a 1000 times already. How many times does she need to repeat it?

I agree with all of this.

Also, that article was blunt and in your face. Tim brought up Eddie when talking about BT, which is something the show has done since day one by the way. Eddie has ALWAYS been involved in this storyline and he will continue to become even more important in this storyline, because the whole purpose of BT was always Buddie.

IMPORTANT! Please don't repost this ask and/or a link that leads straight to my Tumblr account on Twitter or any other social media. Thank you!

Heads up! For anyone who is giving me the shifty eyes for reposting Ali's updates instead of reblogging. Read this.

Remember, no hate in comments, reblogs or inboxes. Let's keep it civil and respectful. Thank you.

If you are interested in more of Ali’s posts, you can find all of her posts so far under the tag: anonymous blog I love.

[oleanderscorner]

I offer you, the highest of my ideas

Yandere Twst X Overblot Yuu.

Vibes? IMMACULATE

Everyone’s like “oooh overblot twst so hooot” NO! I WANT THEM TO DO THAT. FOR ME. IN THE WORST WAYS POSSIBLE.

fuck the calculation n’ clever shit. I want them to run onto scene and go 👀👀

(Specifically if you wanna: Dorm leaders + Leech twins + Ace + Deuce.)

I think I can do this in more of a series—but I’ll do this in this more analysis-like format…let’s start with Vil because I think he would be the most fun.

Yandere!Vil x OB!Yuu

TW: manipulative behavior, obsessing, toxic and abusive themes, self harm—YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.

Vil Schoenheit

I think everyone can agree that Vil is often an incredibly misrepresented character—whether or not they know or believe their own interpretation to be completely correct. There’s a lot to his character that doesn’t get represented because it’s hard to represent all of him when he’s incredibly adaptable to his surroundings…

But before we get to him any more—let’s look at Yuu.

Yuu can’t OB in canon but without magic, but a personal theory I’ve had for a long time is that Yuu will gain magic somehow—because like everything else they’re now a part of this world, and while they don’t belong “currently” after saving so many people they’re bound to become part of the world they’re living in, and gain some level of magic or be someone part of the universe who has no magic—which is a little less likely considering where Yuu is placed within this universe.

Yuu’s UM is likely to be more similar to Ruggie’s in that they likely will have some level of control over people and surroundings, however, with the ghost theme of the dorm—it’s better to assume that Yuu’s UM may be to become invisible like a ghost to help in battle same way they always kind of had in game.

An OB would likely be quick as Yuu begins to miss home and just wants to disappear and have everyone forget them—have the world forget them—so that maybe they can go home as they no longer have any remnant of themselves in the universe. Homesickness is a real thing, and if we look at some of the manga Yuus we do know that there is families back home for Yuu to go to, and possibly friends too. It can hit hard after awhile, especially if we go by the year and we don’t know how time there works—which can host so many accidents where Yuu won’t see their family again and as much as Yuu would miss their friends here—home could hit a lot worse.

When not invisible, I’d imagine them covered in cloth similar to a sheet ghost and with ink between the folds and sheets, and nearly translucent—just for the fun of a design.

Now onto the actual OB!YuuxVil

(Might switch Yuu and you because Yuu is the reader, if I say they know that means reader/Yuu)

Vil is observant—he may send Rook or Epel to spy on you or make judgements of character—but he is observant of Yuu and their actions leading up to the overblot. He wanted to prepare for it himself—and hopefully actually stop it. In most instances he would—he knows how to take preventive measures—but…this time he didn’t.

As we know from chapter 5 and his vignettes, Vil is one to get back up again after every failed attempt—and is by far the most adaptable character when it comes to needing to work with a loss. He couldn’t prevent it? Fine—it’s not like anyone else was truly helping (they were), he’ll just have to take extreme measures instead.

He locks you up so you cannot be a danger to yourself and others—likely using something to get you to a secure location (his home if he could help it—it’s incredibly reinforced, his dad and he have crazy fans I’m sure) since Ramshackle would definitely be destroyed and Pomefiore has a ridiculous amount of glass to get you hurt. He normally isn’t the kidnapping type but this situation is incredibly dire, so he has to live up to that role.

Vil struggles with identity and selfishness—he is strict and wants to keep everyone in line, and knows how to battle each person who comes his way with tact and grace to keep people in line. However this is for the betterment of others more than for simple order. This is one of the things where he has to come off as the bad guy in order for people to be better versions of themselves and be better people. He is incredibly used to this role even if he hates it and loathes everything. It’s an identity he doesn’t want but it’s one he’s always going to be stuck with, making it hard to do truly selfish things unless it contributes to his image—something he cares way more about than himself.

All of this is to say that he is certain to try and manage your overblot—and to get you out of it—even if it means he has to be the bad guy and keep you away from things. Even if it means having to use magic spray you can’t hurt yourself and others. Even if it means afterwards you hate him.

Yet there will be times where he calls you beautiful, times where he tells you that you look lovely this way—times where he just praises you. Some of it he believes, but some of it is out of what little selfishness he can manage for himself to not completely be the villain in your eyes. It’s ever so slightly manipulative, but telling him that will only make things worse.

He tries to get you to eat so at least there’s things feeding this magical energy. Some of it is laced with potions to help do just that—because he is incredibly scared that stunting it will kill you or harm you. So he wants to just make sure you don’t completely use it all up.

Vil is determined—but if anything Yuu is the best at breaking his resolve.

Constant egging on about him keeping you here, about him using his magic against you—trying to hurt him for so long. Eventually it can get to be too much—but if Yuu mixes it in with any knowledge they knew of his previous obsession for them. How he wished so dearly to make them the best version of themselves and how he wishes to be a part of the life they had here. How he kept worried eyes on them and made sure more money was slipped into their account for food. Even the jealousy he had to hide constantly around those who also showed interest, and his own plans to outdo them that he constantly overthought and looked over. Or especially how Vil had failed to prevent this overblot? Well, that might just break it.

He’d use his own curses against him to make himself better. Give himself timeframes yo complete things or if there was a certain amount of insults or hits a day something would happen. Pain in his legs—turning old for a few days—a nasty illness—whatever worked to force him to get through to the real you.

Even if he overblot once—he can overblot again—and trust me, it’ll be far worse than it ever was before.

This is a quick take! I’d love to do a full in depth analysis of Vil and how I perceive him, and what I think so many people shove onto him that’s completely unfair of them to do—but I truly hope this does him justice. I’ll probably get to the other dorm leaders and maybe more soon depending on how I feel about an OB Yuu.

Thank you for reading!!

[vickyvicarious]

i'm catching up on my dracula daily and... wtf is up with that letter from Whitby Lucy wrote saying how much better she is doing? is she just lying to mina to not concern her during her honeymoon? because it goes against her last journal entry (where she says she's still feeling bad) and against arthur's letter from the following day asking for jack's help. like, what's up with that bit? do you think this entry was misplaced somewhere along the editing process?

Yeah, you've found the same thing that's had all the Daily readers scratching their heads. I've debated about it myself in the past, but I've landed pretty firmly on my interpretation. Short answer: it's probably just a timeline error on Stoker's part.

Long answer: As you say, it contradicts both Lucy's diary entry, and Arthur's letter on either side of this entry. For this to be the correct timing of the letter, she would have to be lying to Mina very blatantly and deliberately. While hiding her own distress so as not to worry others is very characteristic of Lucy, such blatant and extreme lying (sleeping super well! big appetite! and all those sports!) is not. It would be more typical of her to just not mention much about her own health, if it had worsened again.

Characterization aside, the letter being a lie goes against the theme throughout the book of the characters being emotionally honest with one another in the writing they share. Sure, they keep secrets and communication problems are a big theme as well (as we've already seen) but the documents themselves being trustworthy is a major element. I won't get into spoilers, but think about what we've already seen with Jonathan: he himself is uncertain about whether he was mad or not, but his journal holds the truth. Both we the audience, and the characters believe that. Jonathan tells Mina that "The secret is here, and I do not want to know it." Mina seals it shut because she chooses not to know with him on his request. But if she were to read it, she would know. Because his diary is true. As are all the other documents. They might not show a whole picture individually, but they aren't lies. That would go against the themes of the novel.

A final reason I don't think Lucy is lying here is logistical. The letter is postmarked from Whitby. But both her journal entry before it and Arthur's letter after it are from London (she's writing from her family home, Hillingham, and his letter is from Albemarle hotel in Piccadilly). So, in order for this to work, she would have to engage in much more intentional/difficult subterfuge. She'd have to either a) have someone take the letter to Whitby and mail it from there (unlikely; she doesn't seem to trust her vulnerabilities to her servants, and she doesn't like to make big asks, for just two reasons) b) write that it's from Whitby inside the letter and then send it from London and possibly expose the lie or bring up questions of why she waited until she left Whitby to send this letter without at least adding a postscript to that effect, or c) go to London, get ill, go back to Whitby, lie about being fine, then go back to London again the next day and continue being ill. Obviously that's massively unlikely. And there's no reason to even pretend to be in Whitby instead of London in the first place. Their trip wasn't ended because of Lucy's health (in fact, Dracula left Whitby on the 17th of August, and she was already doing better by the 18th/19th). It probably was the time they had planned to come back all along, and if she were lying to Mina she could just as easily lie about being happy and healthy in London as elsewhere.

I've seen it suggested that Lucy wrote the letter in Whitby but just held onto it and didn't send it until later, but that doesn't resolve the postmark. Also, her letter is a response to Mina's, with direct references to things like Mina and Jonathan being married now, and Jonathan being ill. I suppose one could argue that she was just anticipating they would be married/Jonathan would need to recover based on things Mina said before leaving Whitby, but it still feels odd.

So, with all of those reasons why Lucy can't be lying... I've got to conclude it's a simple timeline error, much like Seward's missing week (and/or three days) between 19/20 August. In fact, both of these errors being near the end of August suggests that Stoker may have had an idea of a more extended timeline around these events at first, and some lines/dates just never got edited to match the more condensed timeline we see in the book.

Lucy's letter appears as a response to Mina's (it's placed right after her wedding letter in the original book format) and while the experience in Dracula Daily is a stinging ominous contrast of Mina's joy and Lucy's alarming first diary entry which is very reminiscent to the early experience of Jonathan suffering/the ladies happily talking about summer plans... I don't think it's intended to be so direct a contrast in this case. Rather, we should be getting the brief lull on both fronts. Jonathan is alive! Mina has happily married him! Lucy is all better! Arthur has rejoined her! We get a brief moment of reunion and happiness for both couples, a small moment of relief before the pain comes rushing back in. But both of these come right after Seward's entry which ends with Renfield warning "It is coming—coming—coming!" so we know that the reprieve will be short. It's just slightly different pacing than what the daily format gives us.

(Also, the letter being true means Lucy and Arthur get to be happy together for a while before being separated again. Lucy gets to be healthy for a while before her 'mystery illness' returns. And I'm happy to let her have those things.)

In fact, speaking of original layout... Chapter 8 ends with Seward's August 19 entry. Then Chapter 9 begins like this: Mina's letter (August 24), Lucy's letter (August 30), Seward's diary (August 20), Lucy's diary (August 24), Arthur's letter (August 31). Once again we have some timeline confusion, and while the book as a whole is much less linear with the events it shows us, and definitely jumps back and forth a few days on more than one occasion, that still looks odd to me. My book has a footnote which suggests that Lucy's letter was meant to be send on the 20th instead, but of course that would mean she was writing before the letter she's ostensibly replying to. This could cause a minor cascade of other adjustments needing to be made. I've also seen it suggested here on tumblr (in this post by @thegoatsongs) that maybe Lucy's letter was received on the 30th, not sent. Her first letter (the one sent in emails on May 11) isn't actually dated, so this wouldn't be the first time dating oddness happened around her letters.

So... yeah, those are pretty much the reasons why Lucy probably is telling the truth, and Stoker/an editor who should've caught this kind of thing just messed up!