#it as much as I could if I played it first by myself and I didnt say that directly so no way they could know and I will finish it on my own

[dcxdpdabbles]

DCxDP fanfic idea: Danny's Did you know?

Danny is a contact creator.

He started off as a kid who wanted to dump info about space or other interests, making it more "Did you Know" as his theme, but his channel really took off the first time he invited a ghost to speak about the era that came before.

No one knows Sidney Poindexter is a ghost. Ghosts usually do not appear on camera; if they do, they are always a blur or barely visible outline. That doesn't come into play when the camera happens to belong to the Ghost King, who is unaware of the title.

Due to this, the ghosts, as his guest stars, turn out to look like normal human beings. There is no glow, no see-through effect, and the only odd thing about them is how they dress.

Even Poindexter's coloring could be explained with some well-done make-up.

They think he's just someone wearing a costume and pretending to be from the 1950s, using information Danny had researched. Danny's interview with Poindexter became an instant hit among those who applauded the genuine authenticity of what the 1950s actually were like.

Not only that, but Poindexter's reactions to modern terms and objects that Danny presents are hilarious to the viewers, as he never once broke character. There is even an entire section where both grumble about the bullying issue in their shared high school.

A particular scene becomes a trending meme.

"Did you know Dr. Seuss coined the word "Nerd" in 1950? He used it in the book If I Ran the Zoo," Danny tells Poindexter.

The other teenager rolls his eyes. "Of course, I knew. It was published in my first year of High school. I was one of the first to be called nerd, you know? It would have been more impressive if it didn't take the entire football team four days to read."

"Four days!?"

"Dr. Seuss's writing style saved the American reading levels back in my day."

"So we have always been stupid, huh?"

Danny's next guest is Johnny 13, a biker from the early 1980s who spends most of his time flirting with Danny—who doesn't acknowledge the attempts—and proudly tells the viewers he may have been there, but he was too poor to know much about the 1980s.

"What were the trends in that era?" Danny asks Johnny after considering his notes.

The biker shrugs. "I think cellphones? They were too expensive for me or my block. Never saw one in real life before I died."

"Well, one trend was waterbeds. Did you know that waterbeds were invented in the 60s? They were made by a design student but weren't popular until the 80s, making them popular for the sudden rise of sex appeal." Danny says with a cheerful grin.

Johnny 13 tilts his head, considering his words. "Radical. I couldn't afford a mattress, much less a waterbed, but I bet they were fun. If you can get your hands on one, I would happily show you how fun they can be."

Danny rolls his eyes and then considers something. "If you couldn't afford a mattress, how did you get your bike then?"

"I stole it. Car theft was effortless back then after hotwiring took off." Johnny's smirk turns dark. "I stole to keep myself fed. Bad luck followed you everywhere when you started at America's rock bottom. Only crime could get you out, and even then, life was shit."

Danny reaches out and pats his shoulder. "At least you got to live through one of the best eras in our history."

"Nah, I died in 1983. I missed it, but do you know who actually got to live it? Ember. She died in 1990."

Next week, Ember strikes an alarming resemblance to the one-hit-wonder singer Ember McLain, who had nearly made it big a few years ago.

"What were the 80s like?"

"Terrible, everyone hated me in school, and AIDS was killing all my friends."

Danny pauses for a long moment, looking horror-struck, until Ember shrugs, "But Glam rock was made popular, which was kind of cool."

"Glam?"

Ember smirked at the host, holding her guitar. "Want to hear some?"

By the end of her performance, everyone was losing their mind that Danny Fenton somehow knew a big name like Ember Mclain, and her music once again started to trend. So much so she released another song called "Lost," dedicated to all her fallen friends who died in the AIDS epidemic.

It goes on and on, with each new video showcasing different times and people from those backgrounds. Tim Drake never misses an episode as a dedicated follower of Danny's Did You Know?

He also thought it was a gimmick to make the show entertaining and thought nothing of the hilarious conversations—not when the host was such adorable eye candy.

Things are normal until Tim watches Danny interview Greta Hayes, who died in the late 90s. His very dead, very much a ghost teammate who happily tells the story of her life while looking like an ordinary girl for the first time.

It's not even someone dressed up as her. She makes an apparent reference to some slang Bart uses, and a few of the team's inside jokes are sprinkled into the conversation.

Tim feels a headache coming on. After watching the episode, he grinned darkly as he picked up his phone and called Bruce.

"So we may have a problem. Either a necromancer with an insane amount of skill or something similar. We need to go to Amity Park to investigate Danny Fenton."

Bruce sighs. "Tim, I am not helping you stalk your internet crush-"

"It's not stalking. It's detective work!"

[knife-eared-jan]

Ok, as much as I have been hyping and playing 12 hours a day since it got out (still in Act 1 though, bc I'm a slowass player and completionist), I feel like I have to say something that is getting hard to ignore at this point... and I wanna preface this by saying that I am loving a lot of aspects of the game and I adore the writing when it comes to the companions, who I am obsessed with.

And maybe this will get better yet, as I generally heard the writing picks up once the story progresses beyond picking up all companions..

But I'm starting to get quite upset at the way the writing just does NOT care about the established lore and the politics of Thedas like at all, when to me - and many others - that richness, nuance and depth of the world is what makes the games so special.

(Spoilers below)

I looked past the way the elves in Arlathan just seemed to know that their gods are evil and Solas is "kind of a dick" but was right about that. When, you know, that made him basically the Satan of their pantheon up to now.. It was after all the tutorial stage of the game and I understand that you wanna ease newcomers into the lore. I could also handwave it in-universe with Morrigan being there - she could have filled the Veiljumpers in on the discoveries of the Inquisition or even what the Well told her.

It felt a bit weird that our contacts in every other faction just accepted this huge revelation without a blink, but again it was the early stages and I also get that having a discussion about it 6 times with different faction leaders would have been incredibly tedious. So I ignored that. And yeah, at least the First Warden found it hard to swallow.

The fact that they brushed aside the gods finding elven subjects - many of whom after all still worship them - with one sentence from Solas was disappointing though. Instead they chose to ally them with the Venatori and the Antaam who are the pure evil factions with no nuance or motive to side with them besides a comic book level of hunger for power. They didn't even throw in a sentence about the gods maybe speaking to the Venatori through the Archdemons to get them on their side or how it's very ironic that the Venatori, who want to make Tevinter great again, stoop to working with the pantheon of the people they oppress because they see them as lesser and other. No political exploration of the massive lore implications at all.

It really hit me when I picked up Davrin and he commented how Elgar'nan and Ghilan'nain blighting the world would really endear us (elves) to the rest of Thedas - this was the first time anyone actually mentioned the political impact of the elven gods being real, freed, evil and blighted on modern day elves at all, when this should be HUGE. It should be ugly. It should be complex. It should be explored in as many examples as bloodmagic and the oppression of mages was in DA2. It should be a central point of Act 1. (This btw made me love Davrin so much in that moment because this was the first time in the game for me when I actually felt like talking to a Dragon Age elf and even just that one line felt like home.)

And now I just did Taash's first companion quest and it seems Qunari lore is also being ignored (except for the gender aspect of it, which I look forward to). Taash's mum was a scholar and had a baby and the only problem about that was that it could breathe fire and was special but otherwise all would have been dandy? Like she would have just been allowed to keep Taash long enough to find that out about her baby if she was living under the Qun? That directly contradicts everything we know about how the Qunari's culture around reproduction and childcare works.

Sorry to be negative and talking myself into a rage - I know it's not something people want to see rn. But like, I realise you have to brush over some lore intricacies for brevity and to make it digestible for new players. But this is a world initially inspired by Wheel of Time and ASOIAF, both of which are interesting because of the depth of ficitional cultures, lore and politics, and hence it's also what gives Dragon Age its appeal. And now they take us to the most politcally interesting areas on the world map and just get rid of all of political depth?

That's really disappointing. Imagine if Winds of Winter dropped all political themes just because there's several previous books and it's been some a lot of years.

Also, I managed to play DA2 before I ever played Origins and they could introduce me to a vast established background of lore just fine back then.

Sorry. Rant over. But I had to get that out of my system.

[mapis-putellas]

𝑭𝒐𝒐𝒕𝒃𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒈𝒂𝒎𝒆𝒔

Pairing: Katie McCabe x reader

Words: 750

Warnings: none

Summary: you meet Katie at a football game when you rescue her.

Notes: writing her accent was hard but I think it came out good 😭

You hadn’t been paying much attention to the match, honestly. It was a men’s game, and you were only there because a friend had insisted. The game itself was a draw so far, neither team bringing anything exceptional to the pitch. But then, during halftime, you’d spotted her.

Katie was standing off to the side, talking with someone who was clearly trying to pull her into conversation. She had her hair pulled back in a tight ponytail, dressed in jeans and an Arsenal jacket, hands tucked into her pockets as she politely nodded along. You didn’t know much about women’s football, but even you recognized her—Arsenal’s star player, the famous Irish one. You could see she was trying to inch away from the bloke, who seemed oblivious to the fact she wasn’t all that interested.

Not even thinking it through, you walked over, slipping into the conversation as if you knew her. “There you are! I’ve been looking everywhere,” you said, flashing her a wide grin as you sidled up beside her.

Katie looked at you, surprised but catching on quickly. “Oh! Aye, been lookin’ fer ya meself,” she replied smoothly, her thick Irish accent making you bite back a smile.

You hooked your arm through hers, giving her a wink. “Hope you don’t mind me stealing her for a bit,” you said to the bloke, who looked taken aback.

Katie turned her head slightly, hiding her grin. “Sorry, mate,” she added, a smirk tugging at her lips as the man awkwardly excused himself.

Once he was out of earshot, she raised an eyebrow at you, clearly amused. “An’ who’re ya then? Rescuin’ strangers in the middle o’ football matches?”

You shrugged, trying to play it cool even though you could feel your cheeks flushing. “Someone who can’t stand watching a decent person trapped in a dreadful conversation.”

Katie laughed, low and warm, her brown eyes studying you with interest. “Well, thank ya fer tha’, darlin’. Coulda been stuck all day wi’ tha’ one.”

Your heart stuttered a bit at the way she called you “darlin’” like she’d known you forever. “My pleasure,” you said, grinning. “So, what’s a famous Arsenal player doing at a men’s game anyway?”

She shrugged, tucking her hands back into her pockets. “Ah, just supportin’ the sport. Few mates o’ mine’re playin’. Thought I’d show me face.”

Her accent was thick, and you couldn’t help but smile every time she dropped a “ya” or softened a “t.” You decided to tease her just a little, grinning as you mimicked, “Ah, supportin’ the sport, are ya?”

She rolled her eyes but was smiling. “Aye, cheeky, aren’t ya? Gonna mock me accent now, are ya?”

You laughed. “Only a little. I think it’s cute.”

Her eyebrows lifted, and she gave you an amused look. “Cute, is it? Never heard tha’ one before.”

You shrugged. “First time for everything.”

Katie just looked at you, her gaze warm and a little curious. “So, are ya a fan o’ Arsenal then, or just here fer the thrill?”

You shrugged again. “A friend dragged me along. I don’t mind football, but I wouldn’t call myself a superfan or anything.”

“Well, tha’s a shame,” she said, her voice light but her gaze sharp. “We could always use more fans, y’know?”

You smirked, tilting your head at her. “Maybe I’ll make an exception. Just for the women’s team.”

“Oh, jus’ for us, aye?” She laughed, and the sound was infectious. You liked the way she looked at you, her eyes crinkling at the edges, like she was genuinely having a good time.

A little bravely, you asked, “So, you up for a drink after this? If you’re not too busy being famous?”

Katie chuckled, glancing around as if she had to make sure no one important was listening. “Yeah, I think I could spare a bit o’ time fer ya,” she said, her accent lilting in that endearing way.

You couldn’t hide the grin that stretched across your face. “Great. I’ll even promise not to mock your accent too much.”

“Better not,” she teased, nudging your shoulder playfully. “Might have ta show ya a real Irish lesson if ya do.”

With that, she slipped her hand into yours, giving it a small squeeze before tugging you toward the exit. And just like that, you were off to drinks with Katie, your accidental rescue turning into the start of something that felt like it could be a lot more than just one night.

**

Tags:

@goldenempyrean @codiemarin @girlgenius1111 @ceesimz @marysfics @xxnaiaxx @liloandstitchstan @wileys-russo

[sanguineterrain]

Femjay you say 👀 how about the classic "you're alive?!" confrontation with a sprinkle of pining

sprinkle of pining you say-oh dear! i've dumped the whole bag in! along with a jar of erotic violence! whoopsies...

female!jason todd x afab!reader. violence, angy jay, reader being held down, crying, reunion. remember that girl best friend you had highkey lesbian tension with? yeah.

****

It's her eyes you recognize first, oddly enough, through her cracked helmet. You shouldn't recognize her at all, with how everything about her has changed. Even the way she looks at you is different. You've never seen Jay Todd so ferocious.

"You weren't supposed to be here!" she screams.

It's true, you weren't. You stumbled across your dead best friend by accident, found her hissing and vicious with a shattered helmet and a smoking gun. Four dead men surround her.

"Get out."

All you can do is stare. She's alive. She's back. She's yours.

"Jay..."

Okay, you lied. This wasn't an accident. This was fate that you played a hand in. This was what was bound to happen after Jay got too close, let herself get seen. You've had an itch for months, eyes on your back. You're a civilian now, sure, but you loved a bat once.

She pries off her helmet and your breath hitches. God, she's beautiful.

"What is wrong with you? You could've fuckin' gotten shot."

Your legs start moving. Your arms part. You expect the feel of a soft cape between your fingers, black curls to tickle your chin due to a height difference you never let her forget.

Jay drops her gun, grabs your wrists, and knocks the wind out of you in a graceful takedown. You can't even be mad.

"You're alive," you choke out.

When she was Robin, you had a slim chance of physically overtaking her. Now, double in size and muscle, Jay keeps you pushed to the ground with no chance of getting free. Her hands hold you by your wrists, body hovering close so you can't move much.

Her eyes are wild. A mix of blue and green. More green than you remember. Her irises have swallowed her pupils and her curls are knotted and frizzy. You feel inexplicably hunted.

"How dare you?" she spits. "How fuckin' dare you come here?"

"Jay," you say softly, unable to keep your eyes fixed on one part of her. You're afraid to blink and make her disappear.

"I could've shot you," she says. "You could be dead right now."

"You're a good shot."

You mean it as a compliment. Jay only seems to get angrier.

"I have to be. I'm the only one keeping myself alive," she says. You make a weak noise in your throat.

"I should've looked for you," you say.

She scoffs. "Don't say stupid shit. You're smarter than that."

"I should've," you insist. "I should've found you. I felt you."

"Yeah? Feel how I could tear you apart? It comes so easy now, you have no idea. 'M fuckin' soaked with blood."

You stay silent. Jay's eyes flash. She leans in, breath hot on your ear.

"Are you scared?" she asks like she knows the answer.

But she doesn't.

Your legs part further so she can kneel comfortably. You shake your head.

Jay snarls. "You should be. I've killed people. I'll keep killing."

"It's okay," you say. "You're angry. It's okay to be angry. I don't blame you. No one does."

"Stop talking like that!" she yells, tears in her eyes. "Stop talking like we're friends. We aren't friends. You don't know me!"

"But I do," you say, limp beneath her, like a lamb caught in a wolf's bite. "Jay, I do."

"No, you don't," she snaps. Her voice is mocking, brittle. "You know your fancy publishing job in a big shiny office, away from this shithole, and-and fuckin' Paul from Marketing who brings you banana pancakes from the diner."

Your breath comes out in a careful exhale. "You've been keeping tabs on me. How long have you been back?"

Jay's mouth quivers as she bares her teeth. "I took you to that diner. It was mine first."

"It never stopped being yours," you say quietly.

"You—" Jay growls in frustration. Her hands squeeze your wrists. "This isn't how it's s'posed to go. Hate me, hate me. I'm a monster."

"You're not."

"You're fuckin' deluded," she says, eyes glassy with tears. "Fuckin'—sleep so heavy, like I can't slip in and smother you. No one would know. Make tea in your-your robe, don't even pull the curtains shut. I can see you. Anyone can."

"I missed you, Jay," you say, a heart-shaped lump in your throat.

"And so what?" she asks, tears falling down her cheeks. "So fuckin' what if you missed me? You kept living."

You try to pull your hand free, and to your surprise, you do. Jay lets you slip out of her grip. You use your free hand to hold her scarred cheek, wipe her tears with your thumb.

Jay is perfectly still for several moments. Then she wraps two big hands around your ribs, pulls your shoulders forward like nothing, and rests her cheek on your chest. She shakes into your skin, kneeling between your legs.

You hug her head, smell her new-old smell, and let her curls tickle your chin once again.

[seancekitsch]

The Sword and the Quill: Chapter Two

Pairing: Gwayne Hightower x Reader

In the weeks leading up to little Daeron's departure to Oldtown, Queen Alicent finds herself trying to entertain the unmarried ladies of court. As one of her ladies in waiting, you agree to an anonymous penpal in one of the men at court, and end up spilling your heart to him. He is your perfect match, your equal. The only issue? The Queen's brother Gwayne Hightower will not stop teasing you as you try to uncover who responds to your letters.

My Darling Unfamiliar,

It does delight me to meet you this way, as often court can be all too serious and formal. The summer treats me well. I can tell you, without divulging too much, that the sun grants me her warmth daily, and the nights feel alive in their starlight. I am enjoying it, to say the least. However, I find the castle all too humid and stuffy despite its lofty peaks and open windows. Summers in my own home, though far, are much more favorable as far as comfort. 

I will try not to make it too easy for you to guess my identity, as I can tell you are as sharp as any blade and cunning too. Though I must agree, it is a thought that taunts me as well. I desire to know you immediately, to put a face to such lovely penmanship and words. I will be looking for your hand everywhere in the keep, I fear. In fact, I have already begun. By the end of this little experiment, you may even know me better than myself. 

I am a man of noble birth, and as you so desire, I have traveled a bit. Where would you wish to go first, my Unfamiliar? If I have been there, I can write to you of my time in that place, maybe even draw you a picture from memory. I appreciate that you wish to see the world for what it is, as most might not. The world is a dangerous and wild place, but are you ready to see it? 

I too enjoy the arts, as well as sport. Will you be at the upcoming tourney? If I am lucky, a boisterous young knight will not steal your favor. I will not say more, except that I have a wonderful tutor for the lute and I feel myself learning more as time goes on. I admit that I am only adequate at dancing, but if I had a tutor in the form of an adventurous woman, perhaps that could change. Might we hope for a feast soon, perhaps with the coming of the Princess’ babe? Maybe without knowing, we will speak to one another. If we are lucky, we may even share a dance. I will even promise not to step on your feet.

I am certain our letters will become tomes themselves, as I find myself already getting along with you. Even from one letter, I find you a breath of fresh air in a stuffy keep. 

I await your next letter eagerly,

Your Unfamiliar

You could kiss Alicent, you really could. How had you not known that there was such a man within these walls? Well truthfully, that was easy to miss with the way that you stick by the young queen and chase her children around when they’re playing. There are, however, only so many men it could be. Only a few men remain unmarried at court, and only so many do you think are capable of writing this way. They must be well educated, and not war-minded. This leads you to only four names.

“Lord Rowan, Lord Beesbury, Lord Darklyn, Ser Loras Florent, I don’t know,” you sigh as you sit back into the plush settee in Alicent’s apartments. Young Aegon throw’s down playing cards towards his sister Helaena, much to his mother’s dismay. Luckily though, neither child pays attention to your conversation.

“You’ve forgotten the Lannister Twins and my brother,” She offers, looking towards the list in the little book you’ve brought with you. You’ve started two lists. One of possible identities, one of the information you’ve learned about your unfamiliar. It’s a funny name you’ve come up with, you think. That someone will be so unfamiliar to you in person but so familiar on parchment. You did not dare tell Alicent of this, however. It feels that if you do, she will find something to admonish in it; or worse, speaking of it will mean that some of the magic will be gone. You were serious when you wrote the first letter, thinking that this person may end up knowing you even better than she does. She is your friend, but you do not for a moment forget that she is the most powerful woman in the realm.

You frown, forehead creasing into the pout.

“Do you really think the Lannisters are read enough to write like this? Do you think Jason plays the lute?” you don’t hide the humor in your tone, “Or Tyland being well traveled?”

Surprisingly, Alicent lets a chuckle escape her lips at your words.

“Suppose not,” she agrees, tearing her eyes from your list.

“But my brother still stands,” she punctuates her statement by tapping a finger on the list. Her nails are red, bitten and bloody in the cuticles. You grab her hand in yours, your thumb rubbing over her knuckles.

“Don’t you see, Alicent? Your idea is working,” you reassure her, and drop her hand to begrudgingly scrawl her brothers name onto the list.

The queen only offers you a weak smile, still so unsure of herself. You wish that she would just come into her power, that she would recognize her gentle strength. You suppose that this is unfortunately because she was raised here, as this castle could break anyone’s spirit. You wonder how the princess has lasted this long with her sunny disposition, but even that is starting to wane.

“Have you shown anyone your letter?” she asks, avoiding your praise.

“Only Lady Tarly, as she asked to compare letters.”

“And what of hers?”

“He called her ‘his hopeful betrothed’ and said he wished to know her waist size,” you scoff, infinitely pleased that he is not your partner in this scheme.

“I am only glad that man was not your letter receiver,” Alicent admits, “I think you would have eaten him.”

You laugh heartily. Alicent is rarely like this.

“As if his meat isn’t already spoiled. He would not be worth the roast or the wine uncorked for it.”

It’s then that Helaena speaks up, placing a card down on the rug between herself and her brother.

“The biggest smile will come from teeth stained by wine made from unfamiliar grapes.”

A shiver runs down your spine, as it often does when Helaena speaks. She seems to have riddles that only she understands, but her word choice cannot be coincidence.

“Princess, what do you mean?” you ask, and she only shrugs her shoulders and does not look towards you. She is focused instead on making patterns out of the cards before her, ruining Aegon’s game while he struggles to understand and add to the pattern she makes. She pushes his cards out of the way without explanation.

Later in the day, you find yourself heading towards the library, parchment portfolio and the letter tucked into a bag around your shoulder. You had tried desperately to write in the comfort of your rooms, but each time you went to put quill to parchment nothing came to you. You reread the letter from your unfamiliar nearly twenty times, wanting to say everything on your mind, yet none of it sounding right on paper. You had determined that it was a change of scenery that you needed to clear your mind.

Pushing open the large doors, you take in the familiar scent of the old books, the light of the windows streaming in on their spines. This is where you go to escape, to pour over texts and write notes and copy pictures from books about the old kingdoms and the far off reaches of the realm. And so far, it is only yours. Aemond will scurry in wither a maester from time to time, but mostly you have the vast collection to yourself. All of the books Viserys and Alicent read are delivered to them.

There is a table towards the back of the study, behind all of the shelves and next to a large window that you typically like to set yourself down at; you hide even within the hiding spot. As if compelled, your feet take you there immediately, only when you go to place your bag down, there is already a stack of books and someone else’s parchment there.

“Hello?” you call out, expecting a maester or even one of the servants that picks out Visery’s books. You do not expect a cropping of auburn hair to peek out from behind one of the rows of books.

“Ah, the outspoken pretty one,” Gwayne says, bowing slightly as he reveals himself to you. Already, you feel your blood boiling.

“Ah, the arrogant one,” you match his tone, sarcasm dripping, “I didn’t know you could read.”

“I must have you know I’m skilled at many things,” he replies.

You stand at an impasse, both awkwardly in the alcove at the back of the room at opposite sides of the table.

“What are you doing in my library?” the words come out without thinking.

“Oh, this is yours? I apologize, my lady, I did not know you owned the kingdoms books!”

“That is not— that’s not what I meant. This is where I go. Alone. When I must think or I must write.”

Any jibe to come from his mouth doesn’t land, instead:

“And I’ve taken your writing desk.”

“Yes!” you throw your hands up, exasperated by this back and forth with him.

He seems to ponder the situation, drawn out as his face scrunches in mock thinking.

“Tell you what, you can be of use to me.”

“I would rather be dismissed from court.”

Gwayne rolls his eyes, and you can tell whatever patience he has is wearing thin. That makes two of you.

“Must you always be this vexing? I need help finding a book. I will trade this spot for the book.”

Oh. Well why did he not just say that?

“Fine,” you sigh, but not before placing your bag down onto the chair to already stake your claim.

He leads you back towards the front of the library, where some of the tallest shelves held built in ladders and a large fireplace sat unused until the winter months.

“What subject entices you, Ser?” you ask, mock interest steeped into each word. You turn your back to him, gazing up at the shelf behind you. It contains books on the histories of all the great houses, and all of their vassals. You can see the burgundy and gold of your family’s history sitting far enough away that you’d need the ladder to reach it.

“Courtly Love,” he responds, his voice betraying hesitance. You spin back around towards him.

“And does a knight such as yourself not already know the rules of Courtly Love? Is that the cause of your irksome disposition?” you balk at him. Truly, you are only half joking. As a knight and highborn man, this is something he should know front to back.

Gwayne grimaces, his eyes downcast.

“Forget it. I will find it myself. Enjoy your writing desk,” he tells you, and starts to move away. For some reason, a pit begins to form in your stomach.

“Wait! I apologize, Ser Gwayne,” you say it, and you mean it, “I know where we can find a book that may help.”

“Lead the way.”

You find yourself then looking back as you urge him through the labyrinth of books, a glance over your shoulder here and there to make sure he is keeping up. ‘Just this way’ and ‘almost there’s peppering the experience; to which he sighs, but it’s not as exasperated as before. He seems almost amused at your knowledge of the vast collection around you.

You huff, almost out of breath as you stop before a certain shelf. Gwayne, distracted, accidentally runs into your back, pushing you to brace yourself on the ladder. His hands find purchase on your waist, where your satiny bodice meets your skirt, the sound of swishing fabric and clinking armor echoing.

“Ser Gwayne! Act like the gentleman you claim to be,” you chastise him, but the genuine anger of your bite from earlier is gone. What game is this that he’s playing? He removes his hands from you, steadying you both.

“Lady Y/N, the way you speak to me is unbecoming of your birth,” he retorts, his edge also gone. Are you joking with him right now? Is this not animosity?

“Do you still want this book?”

“Desperately.”

“I thought so,” you confirm, narrowing your eyes at him.

You grab the rungs of the ladder easily, this climb normal and easy to you. It is at least weekly you grab books from the tops of ladders, and at least monthly you help Alicent pick out books for her children though you suspect only one of them reads them all.

“It is here,” you call down to him, gesturing at the shelf nearest where the wall turns off to a balcony of sorts, a separate study. You grasp the book, pulling it gently from the other dust covered tomes and climb back down. 

“I did not take you for a climber,” Gwayne remarks, watching you carefully the entire time as if you might fall. You do not; you are good at this by now. 

“And again, I did not take you for a reader,” you retort, hopping down the last rung and returning to the floor on his level. 

“I appreciate this, and I’m sure my sister will be glad to hear that we did not kill each other.”

The corners of your lips fight to turn upwards, and you steel yourself against smiling. 

“What do you need this for?” you ask as you hand over the book, watching him press his lips together and blow excess dust off of the cover.

“I fear that you will be merciless if I tell you, but you’ve been helpful today.”

Right, the urge to smile dies as he throws that your way. 

“It’s about those letters my sweet sister has us writing. I find myself wanting to brush up on the practices of Courtly Love if my writer will have me.”

Your eyes widen, understanding what he’s saying. Gwayne Hightower is potentially looking for a wife. Maybe that will suit him, you think, maybe matrimony will quiet the boisterous personality and bold flirtatious streak within him that frustrates you about him. Maybe a wife will make sure Daeron does not grow up to be a spitting image of his uncle. 

“Well I do hope she understands the challenge ahead of her.”

His eyes narrow, taking the barb in stride. 

“And you? What are you here for, my lady?”

Your shoulders sag, the magic of an almost nice moment with him already gone. 

“If you must know, I am here to write my own response letter to my writer. Sometimes my quill seems to take a mind of its own in this room, and I can get the words on the page easier.”

“Is this where you normally go?”

“I have one other place, but I do hope you never find it.” 

And you do mean that, for multiple reasons. You do not want him knowing your location like this, nor do you want him or anyone discovering that you know about Maegor’s tunnels, though all they would have to do is find the same book you did to be able to discover the tunnels for yourself. Based on his inexperience in the library, however, you feel that secret will be safe. 

“Not to worry, I won’t go looking,” He assures as he holds up the book to you again, as a silent thank you before he turns to walk back towards the front of the library. As he turns, he mumbles just barely loud enough for you to hear, “I fear what might happen to me if I do.”

He leaves you again after giving the last word, though this time it does not leave the same bitter taste within your mouth. You sigh deeply, and decide to head back to your writing desk to finally sit down and pen this letter. 

You take out the parchment, your little pot of specifically blue ink, your quill, then finally you sit; this chair is old, and specifically needs to be reupholstered and stuffed, as now your bottom has created a noticeable dent within the failing down within it. However, you hesitate to notify any of the castle staff about this, as that could spell the end to the privacy of this location for you. 

You try to clear your mind, thinking of only your Unfamiliar. You read the letter again, and again; thinking of all the things you wanted to say, the urge to be an open book and practically reveal yourself to him almost too tempting, but you need to be clever. 

So you dip your quill in the ink, and begin. 

My Traveled Unfamiliar,

It is quite coy, the way you evade giving yourself away. I fear, for your sake, that it will be much harder to hide from me as you reveal more of yourself in these letters. If I may be so bold, I feel that I am glad and surprised that a man such as you is not betrothed, and that we may meet at all. How terrible would it be if an impending marriage would stop us from becoming friends? I feel I need more friends in this castle, and despite not knowing who you are, I feel a certain kinship. I agree with you that this place is far too humid, it makes my hair frizz and my temper fray. I find myself, despite a promise not to, trying to narrow down the list of eligible men that you could be. I will be comparing every answer of yours to my knowledge of these men, so your identity will not remain a secret for long. I apologize if that seems forward, but I have never been one to let a mystery sit. 

Have you ever been to Dorne? Or Lys? I have heard many a wild tale and adventure from their lands, and one day I’d like to see them for myself. Maybe one day, I will be traveled enough to write to you of where I have been. Or even closer, have you ever been to Oldtown? The Queen has mentioned its beauty before, I would love to know more.

You pause your writing, thinking for a moment about that question. You ask partially for yourself, partially for little Daeron. Of course Alicent says all good about Oldtown, but she is from there. Maybe, if there is some kind of flaw there, maybe you can keep little Daeron as your shadow for a little longer. Perhaps this will also prevent your quill mate from knowing who you are. Everyone here has spoken to the queen, and you did not reveal you know her well. 

I must disappoint you though, as I do not care much for tourneys. I find the boastfulness of the men distasteful. Though this time, perhaps it will not be so vexing. This tourney, I will be scanning the crowds in hope that I will find you. I have this hope that when our eyes meet I will just know that it is you. That there is something that I will recognize right away in you. Perhaps after this tourney, if I find you, I can persuade you to play me a song on your lute after the games conclude. 

I would very much like us to share a dance at the next feast, though you must be warned that I will dance circles around you. You will not be able to step on my feet because you will not keep up with them! 

I am very glad to have met you, even though I have not met you. Your letter has brightened my disposition within this castle, and I appreciate you. I hope we will write novels to one another. 

Hoping for a quick response,

Your Unfamiliar. 

You look over the letter, realizing that maybe it’s very forward, but the way that whoever on the other side wrote to you tells you that it won’t matter. You fan the parchment in the air, the corners of it shaking and making noise. Gwayne, from across the library, snaps his head up to look at you. But instead of any sneer, he simply just smiles at you and nods. He is already about halfway through the book you recommended, a parchment next to him and notes clearly taken from the content of the book. You pity whatever young woman he is trying to impress, you think. 

When the ink on your parchment is dry, you place it carefully into your portfolio, and pack up to leave so you can seal it in your room. 

You walk across the library, bag slung and rusting against the material of your skirts. Gwayne’s attention falls upon you again. 

“Thank you,” he calls to you, that soft smile on his face again. You only nod in response, an odd feeling settling in your chest as you put more distance between yourself and Gwayne Hightower. 

[miss-tc-nova]

Not Vil - Vil Schoenheit x Reader

Okay, listen. Listen Linda! I know this isn't great, even though this is kind of the concept you were thinking of. I hope you still find this one silly and somewhat entertaining, but just you wait. I had another idea too.

So stay tuned!

Premise: Vil is taking his character a bit too far

Words: 926

~~~~~

               I feel my lips purse, willing myself to keep my mouth shut. This is important to him. This is for a project—for his career. Plus, it would cause quite a bit of drama.

               But damn if I don’t slap Vil Schoenheit, I better get a Partner-of-the-Year award.

               For the past thirty days, the actor has been testing method acting—the kind people use in TV shows and movies, pretending that they truly are the character both on and off camera. I think part of the excitement comes from the fact that this is a main character role and he wants it to be his best yet. And it wouldn’t be bad, if Vil wasn’t playing such an eccentric, flirtatious, goofy character. It was kind of cute at first, and maybe I even enjoyed the extra flirting a little bit. But then it got old.

               Vil’s excessive monologuing on the beauty of every person he came across bordered on the realm of Rook. Everyone was lovingly compared to some beauty or another, which is very awkward for most of these self-conscious NRC boys. He began willing joining in on the antics of the first years, which was fun for a day, but became overbearing when he quickly began leading the group into even more shenanigans—several of which I became responsible for. And for all the poise and confidence that Vil exuded, this “character” was naïve with such childish notions of relationships. I did not need any more roses or for him to start fawning at the thought of a kiss. I didn’t even get the kiss in the end.

               Now, I’m sitting here, going over my homework, sitting alone in Ramshackle for some peace from that overbearing character.

               The foyer door opens. Ramshackle is still very much bare and under-furnished, leaving me fully exposed to whatever guest let themselves in.

               “There’s my beautiful muse.” The higher tone of his voice actually sends unpleasant shivers down my spine.

               “Oh. Hi sweetheart,” I greet, hoping my tone stays even.

               Hands cupping my face—a big Vil no-no—the young man squishes my face as he presses kisses all across my face. After at least a dozen, I shake him off.

               “I’ve been looking everywhere for you! How was your day, darling?”

               I drag a sleeve across my face. “It’s been alright. Trein gave an essay assignment and I’ve been working on it since class ended.”

               “Hm? Let me see.”

               Before I could say anything, the page disappears. I didn’t need help; I didn’t even ask. But here’s this wacky, flamboyant character waxing poetic about some treaty between humans and fae. Hell, I’m not even sure what he’s talking about and have long since tuned him out when, once again, his attention turns on me.

               Fingers tip my chin higher. With eyes clearly clouded with rose-tinted glasses, he coos at me.

               “What I wouldn’t do to place a tender kiss upon that beautiful face of yours.”

               The answer is obviously leaning in. I can’t even remember the last time Vil gave me an actual kiss or curled up with me for our weekly movie night. Hell, he won’t even hold my hand as we walk across campus anymore—too busy monologuing about some purity or other. I’m sick of this. This is not Vil and I’ve had enough.

               If he wants to be this character, then fine. He’s that character.

               “Mmm, I dunno. That sounds a bit too forward if you ask me.”

               A hand finds his chest. “Forward? I didn’t offend you, did I?”

               “No, by all means you flatter me, but such behavior would be improper, don’t you think?”

               The slightest twitch of his brows seems to say some signal has reached him.

               “Perhaps the impropriety lies with me. I would be honored if you would grace me with a kiss.”

               “Excuse me?”

               With pouting lips, Vil tilts his head. “Kiss me.”

               “Kiss you?”

               “Please?”

               I turn my head away, waving a hand dismissively. “Sorry, but I’m dating Vil Schoenheit.”

               The man freezes. Blinks.

               “But I’m…”

               I watch, waiting for the ball to drop.

               He sighs, shoulders relaxing with a hint of defeat on his face.

               “I’ve gone too far, haven’t I.”

               A smile tugs at my lips. “Maybe a little.”

               His head falls back, arms open to beckon me into his embrace which I gladly step into. Caressing hands rub at my back, his chin resting atop my head.

               “I’m sorry, my gem.”

               Giggling, I hold tightly. “If you don’t take this crappy methodism out of your acting techniques, I’m breaking up with you. I refuse to date all your characters.”

               “That’s a bit harsh.” Even his voice holds some laughter to it. “You could’ve said something sooner.”

               “Yeah right. You would’ve nearly burst into tears and begged me to tell you what you could change…in character.”

               He sighs. “Oh fine. I would have.” Leaning back, Vil gives me a smile—a true, gentle, sultry Vil smile. “So, how should I make it up to you?”

               I walk my fingers along his chest. “I think you owe me an extensive spa day for all the stress you’ve put me through.”

               Amethyst eyes take in my face. “Mmm, you may be right. You might be starting to develop frown lines.”

               I glare.

               “I’m kidding, my gem. I would be happy to spoil you. Are you going to pick the movie tonight?”

               “I’m going to pick the most childish, goofy, outlandish movie I can find.”

               Again, he sighs. “The price of acting is forever a steep one.”

~~~~~

Alternate Version (Coming Soon)

Nova’s Twisted Wonderland Masterlist

[herecirmsims]

Questions For Storytellers

I have (I think) finally caught up on my list of poses to make, so I wanted to do something a little fun (for me, not for anyone else LMAO) and entirely self-indulgent. I read stories and tell my own over on Instagram, but of course it's harder to post long-form text like this over there.

Special thanks to @freezerbnuuy as I'm copying their post. ❤️

What’s the last screenshot you’ve taken for your story?

This is from the middle of my last post, but it's the last screenshot I took because I went back and added this scene in after finally caving and making my own stupid poses for it hahah.

2. Describe your story in three words or less: Needlessly long tbh

3. Describe (insert character here) in three words or less: Uhhh I'll pick Saxen since he's my MC... wet cat energy (which I think is something @nefaricussims said actually??). Or "90s cocaine chic" as @southernsimmin so beautifully described him. 🤣

4. How did you choose the name of your story? It's called The Cottage because it's... based in and around a cottage. 🥲 I have a very imaginative mind!! 🤣 But also, the cottage plays an important role throughout the whole story and especially in the upcoming finale.

5. How do you choose your characters’ names? My Sim story is based on a novel I never had the confidence to finish - in that version, Sax is an ælf based on Anglo-Saxon belief. I made him a vampire in Sims because that was the only pack I owned at the time, besides base game, and for gameplay purposes I thought vamp put him close to how I imagined him. I now realise I could have easily used CC and my own damn imagination to make him an ælf but I didn't know much about CC at the time, either. 🤣 Because of this, the original story leant into fae lore and the stuff about never revealing your true name. Saxen isn't his real name anyway, but for an added layer it also isn't spelt how you might imagine if you heard it spoken. The same for Thom and Jac who are also characters who came over from the 'original'.

6. How long have you been working on your story for? A little over three years! I have learned soooo much in that time.

7. Whats the biggest risk you’ve taken with your story? Did it pay off? I dunno that I've taken any risks, other than putting it out there in the first place.

8. What about your story are you proud of? I think the fact it exists at all. I've been writing stories since I was a kid, but at some point I lost confidence in myself and have never finished anything/wanted to share it with people because I end up overthinking and deleting it. So I am proud of myself for having maintained a continuous story for three years, and for having other people read it. I think because there was no pressure with a Sims story - with a novel I kept thinking, this has to be perfect and polished so that I can publish it someday. With a Sims story, I'm free to just write the silly tropes I enjoy and allow myself to suck and learn and get better at it.

9. What about your story are you looking to improve on? I read a fantastic article about ma - including pauses in your visual storytelling, space for the characters to sit and breath and reflect. It's ma that makes Ghibli movies so wonderfully distinctive. Being able to make my own poses means that I can show a character's expression or body language in response to a situation, without the need for overlaying text. I'm trying really hard to move away from the "talking heads" style that reads more like a script, and letting the visuals tell the story for me instead. I'm not very good at it because I enjoy my blah blah, but it's fun to try!!

10. Is your story fully planned or are you still working things out? Is there a definitive end? I'm approaching the end of it now, which has been planned for the last three years, so yes - I know pretty much everything that's going to happen. Sometimes the characters still throw a little surprise for me though.

11. Why have you decided to tell this story? Are there any messages or meanings within it? When I got the Sims almost 4 years ago, I had absolutely no idea that there was a) a whole community around it or b) that people used it for storytelling. I'd already made Sax, Thom, and Jac in the game, because I'd wanted to see them come to life during gameplay. Then I discovered poses and started sharing random staged screenshots on Instagram, and became friends with the exceptionally talented TheSimmerKay (now making machinimas!) who showed interest in my silly little characters and suggested that I try telling a story too. I owe her a lot!! As for messages and meaning... I'm very interested in what makes people do the things they do, and how the hero of a story often depends on whose POV we're hearing the story from. There's a fine line between hero and villain sometimes, and a hero acting out of love can cross from protectiveness into control.

12. Do you actually play the game or do you just use it as a storytelling medium? Yep - I have a designated story save, which is the one I take all my screenshots in and which never has gameplay. Then I have a Happy Ever After save for Sax and Fen and another save for for my Globetrotter Challenge Sim, both of which are gameplay only. I think it's important to have that outlet; I can work on my story, make poses, or just play the game, depending on what I fancy.

13. From basic planning to a finished post, how long does that take you? 2-3 evenings. I tend to get everything laid out and text added, then let it sit for a day because I inevitably think of a way to do something better if I give it chance to breath. 🤣

14. Do you have any regrets about your story so far? If you could go back in time, how would you fix these? Not regrets, really, but there are some threads that I put in - fully intending to complete them later in the story - but never did, due to them just not fitting with the story or wanting to try and bring things to an end sooner. But similarly, there are times when I was going to put in a little hint or foreshadowing in and didn't, and then later in my story have wished I had! The tricky part of serialised storytelling is you have to just live with what you have (or don't have), you can't go back and remove or add scenes like you would with a drafted novel.

15. What have been the highlights of creating your story? I've met so many incredible people due to it, oh my goodness. Truly extraordinary Simmers who've shared their time and knowledge with me. We have a little mutual reading group on Insta where we all read and geek out over each other's stories and it's just wonderful. I was honestly shocked when i went to other platforms and realised how much drama there can be in the Sims community. 🤣

16. What about the process do you enjoy? Not that I don't enjoy the process... but I mostly love it when it's finished and I can share it, hahaha.

17. What about the process do you hate? I don't hate any of it... it's a hobby and I do it because I enjoy it. That being said, it does fuck me off when I have multiple Sims in a scene, everyone is in place and has poses queued, and then MCCC Dresser FREEZES MY GAME NOOOOOOOO WHY

18. Choose a song that reminds you of your story:

This is the unofficial theme... specifically this version in Old English, which is Saxen's first language. "It's our destiny then to find love again / Where we failed once before now we'll win"

19. Choose a song that reminds you of (insert character here):

Another one for Sax I guess because he's special. 😌🤣 "But you, a cinder of the fire that's yet to come / Will you just sit and mourn this fragile thing that you've become / Or instead will you consume the very things you can't outrun / Until you finally see all of the strength that you draw from?"

20. Choose your favourite shot from your story so far: Hmmm I think this one, which was me being lazy and reusing a screenshot from an older scene during a flashback-style narration. 🤣 I was trying to achieve something else with the editing but did this by accident and liked it.

21. Choose your least favourite shot so far: Too many to pick from LMAO

22. Choose a favourite character from your story so far: Sax, obviously, he's my lil chew toy/punching bag. But then there's also Idris, for whom I only wish the best. She's going through some trouble right now and I don't enjoy it. It's much more fun to bully Sax.

23. Choose your least favourite character so far: I don't have one! Although Vlad makes me deeply uncomfortable tbh. I find him to be a really creepy villain, and unlike any of my other villains, he's not in any way misrepresented or redeemable. I'm using a makeover version of him by WistfulCastle (I would link, but I don't think he's available anymore?)!

24. Are there any characters who remind you of yourself? No... well. Whenever baby El randomly info-dumps on a niche subject, that's mostly me taking advantage of a captive audience to tell them about karkadanns or medieval torture items or dead bodies on Everest. 🥲

25. What inspirations have you drawn on for your story? I honestly don't know - I can't name anything that I've consciously drawn on, though I know for sure I must have. Funnily enough people have told me things like "oh that's like in Vampire Diaries" or "that's like that part in the Harry Potter films" and I haven't watched either of those, so I think what's happening is we're all drawing from the same well of folklore and mythology and trope. There is occasional story drama about being copied and the thing is... unpopular opinion alert... many of us aren't as unique as we think we are. 😅 What we are unique at is taking a trope and telling it in our own distinctive way. No one else can tell your story quite like you can.

26. Have other sim stories inspired you? I have soooo many talented friends who inspire me to do better when it comes to visuals and storytelling!! @callmedomino is the queen of silent storytelling and a huge inspiration on my journey to discover ma. I really love how well she can tell a story with no words.

27. What genres would you describe your story as? I call it rural fantasy lmao

28. If you could reproduce your story in another medium (movie, novel, comic, etc.) what would you choose and why? I mean obviously I'd say movie because HOW COOL would that be?! Especially an animated one!

29. What would your story’s rating be? (G, PG, M etc.) Ummm probably M because there is the occasional spicy scene. Sometimes three a year LMAO.

30. If you were leaving simblr Simsta and had to choose another creator to continue the story for you, who would you ask? Well tbh I've given Sax and Fen to several good friends already; some of them have them in ongoing cameos in their own stories. I wouldn't ask anyone to continue mine, but I like to think that Sax and Fen could live on in my friend's stories and games if anything were to ever happen to me.

31. Drop some random trivia about your story: When I started I only meant to do short, random vignettes about daily life at the cottage. Somehow it snowballed into a three year epic. 🤣

32. Give a light spoiler: "This is who I am. If I was any other way, I would not be myself."

[rey-jake-therapist]

Haladriel : power play

I keep reading that Sauron didn't stop manipulate Galadriel for all season 1, that she's a poor victim, that she was abused by the big bad guy, yada yada.... It's false. Lol sorry but for most of season 1, it was Galadriel who pulled all the strings and Sauron, though reluctant at the beginning because he wanted to stay in Numenor and take the path of repentance, was happy to play along. "She wants me to be a king ? Alright, I'll be her king. Let it be my GIFT to her." The Lord of gifts is back, baby !

This dynamic changed during the finals though. I find Haladriel fascinating because there's always one who tops and the other who sorry, one who leads and the other who follows. In season 1, it was clearly Galadriel who was the leader in their dynamic. Can't escape the sexual metaphor I'm afraid 🤣, she was basically the dom. She gave orders, antagonized everyone starting with him, manipulated both him and Miriel, lied, gained time...

And he just happily followed, basically, mostly amused by this little young Elf (yeah she was baby if you think of it, Sauron's ancient lol) who bossed everyone around and thought she knew everything. I don't think he expected her to use his own tricks on him, and he was pretty much upset first because she was tempting him into a path he didn't want to go back to (oh the irony of Sauron being tempted into doing something bad...), but I think he was also impressed. He had just told her a couple of hours before how to use people's greatest fears to control them, and here she was.... Just doing it. On him !! The temptation to give her a good spank while whispering congratulation words for being such a good listener must have been.... Very strong.

The dynamic started to change the day Galadriel suspected Halbrand was not who she thought he was. One thing I always wondered is : did Sauron hope that Celebrimbor would repeat these words, "power over flesh", in front of Galadriel, because he wanted to prepare her for the revelation he intended to make when the rings would be ready ?

Anyway, to me the dynamic changed at this very moment :

I wrote a meta dedicated to "Sauron, Galadriel and touching" here. At the risk of sounding like a pretentious person who loves to hear her own voice, I'll do something I never do, quote myself :

Now, back to Sauron. While during all season 1 he was never touchy with Galadriel, in episode 8, he suddenly is. Not only that but he's also very flirtatious, like... more than usual. Galadriel seems surprised with this unsolicited touching, and iffy, because she doesn't trust him anymore. She has just asked one of her fellow Elves to look in the catacombs of Eregion for everything they had about the Southlands and their royal lineage; after she heard Celebrimbor talk about "power over flesh" and seen Sauron enthusiastically offer his aid to the smith, she starts suspecting that Halbrand may be not who he claims to be. Coincidence ? I think not. Even if she remained discreet, Sauron probably felt that something was off. He's very observant, and he knows her mind. If she changed of attitude with him, if she seemed even a little bit wary of him, there's no doubt he noticed it. He certainly planned to tell her the truth about him very soon, at that point, but he also wants the rings to be forged so he could show her what they'd do with them. So this, imho, is Sauron buying time. He knows she's attracted to him, he may even know she's in love with him... I think he's trying to breach her defenses, here.

Like I said in my linked post, so far Sauron never touched Galadriel umprompted. It is a first. And he was flirtatious before, but the way he leans in to whisper in her ear... That's something else. It's Sauron turning the tables and taking control of their dynamic. After this scene, up until the fight, we only see Galadriel in a retreat position, literally sidelined while Sauron found himself a new playmate (Celebrimbor), and she can do nothing but observe what is happening; she can't reveal her doubts as long as she doesn't get the confirmation she asked for. Of course, she hates it.

Then the finals. Galadriel confronts Sauron, who not only doesn't deny anything, but makes fun of her previous claim that she's much older than he is, by revealing he's himself older than the world. Notice how their behavior has changed, compared to how they were during the previous episodes : he's the one being sure of himself and controlling the situation, while she's confused and has lost all her composure, as all her certainties fall into crumbles.

Then she tries to stab him, but he effortlessly parries her attack.

Then she loses consciousness as he takes literal control of her mind. Starting from here, and up until the one, he's the dom dominating the situation ! He masquerades as her brother to manipulate her feelings, then brings her back to the raft, appeals to her temptation for power, offers her the moon and more. Then when she refuses, he makes himself indispensable by reminding her that without him, her people are doomed, presses where it hurts ("they cast you out"), and appeals to her pride ("what will they do when you tell them that you were my ally ?").

NOW that's some manipulation. Only then, did we get a glimpse of the tactics he would use on Celebrimbor in season 2.

As for their dynamics in season 2 finals, do I really need to spell it out ?

Galadriel tries to reverse the dynamics when she kicks Sauron in the face and tells him "the door shut", but ultimate fails. Oh, wait, does she ?

Galadriel almost gives in to Sauron in this finals. I know it's a popular interpretation that she was totally faking it when she took off Nenya and handed it to him, but it simply doesn't make sense with the music and the atmosphere of this scene. And if the "new bond" theory is true, it makes it even more impossible because there's no way she could pretend anything while being newly bound to Sauron. She looks captivated and ready to give in because she is, imho. This is her "last temptation". And Sauron believes that as well, because he saw it in her mind. He believes he won her over, because he almost did, indeed.

He looks so happy, I could almost feel sorry for him... What Sauron wanted Galadriel to understand, was that he wanted to heal Middle-Earth, to let him do that by giving him Nenya. He looks so happy here because he believes he has achieved that, at last.

I think Galadriel is also convinced that he wants to heal Middle-Earth, but she can never approve his methods, so... She lets herself fall off the cliff to escape him and by doing so, reverses the dynamics and takes power again, even at the risk of losing her life in the process. Sacrificing yourself not to let your toxic ex win you over is the ultimate power move if you ask me.

I know there's a new popular theory that wants Nenya to be the one who made Galadriel snap out of it, but sorry, I strongly disagree with this idea. One, because it takes off Galadriel's agency : she was saved by Elrond, saved by Arondir, and now Nenya ? I can't deny it's a personal bias as I want Galadriel to save herself in this one, and I won't go and claim it as a fact.. but sorry, it's a no for me. I've been told about the "Nenya sound" playing during this scene. Well, precisely, this sound tells me exactly the opposite of this theory, because it is heard when Galadriel is handing Nenya to Sauron, and stops exactly when she snaps out of it to say "Heal yourself".

It seems to me that Nenya wanted to go to Sauron, and not the other way around. Sauron said, "the rings are mine". I thought for a while that he meant only the Nine, but no, he considers that all the rings, including the Elven ones, are his. He thinks of himself as "their master". But he also knows that Nenya picked Galadriel as her bearer (or was it him ?), so she's also Galadriel's ring. That's why he wants her to give Nenya to him, as a sign of submission to him. The way I see it, when he asked Galadriel to give him Nenya, he expected Nenya to push her in this direction, and I think that's what Nenya indeed did, hence the sound.

Except that Galadriel resisted. It left Sauron confused. Then he thought about the Dwarves rings, whose owners also refused to be controlled by him even though he had more input in the creation of their rings than he had in the Elven ones'. So he will forge the One Ring, that will allow him, he believes, to take such a tight control on his rings that their bearers will no longer be able to resist him. The Elves will realize that pretty fast and will reluctanctly take off their rings, for all the time that Sauron will wear the One Ring.

"But the Elves were not so lightly to be caught. As soon as Sauron set the One Ring upon his finger they were aware of him; and they knew him, and perceived that he would be master of them, and of all that they wrought. Then in anger and fear they took off their rings." [The Silmarillion].

Interesting fact : the One Ring never seeme to affect the Dwarves. Their rings made them more greedy than they already were, but forging the One Ring didn't allow Sauron to control them. It has been suggested that it could be because they weren't aware of its power/didn't understand it :

The Dwarves used their Seven Rings to establish their treasure hoards, but Sauron was unable to force the Dwarven bearers to submit. It is believed that the dwarves' natural hardiness, and the fact that it was only the more powerful dwarf lords who possessed them, made them resistant to Sauron's control, yet allowed them to accumulate treasure. The final ring to leave the possession of the dwarves occurred when Thráin II was captured. Source

If a Tolkien expert is in the room and can provide some context, it'd be very nice...

Funny how Galadriel's "I resisted" sounds delusional in retrospect. She really believes she did, doesn't she ? She believes that, because when Sauron offered her to be his queen (a fact which for *cough* some reasons *cough* she chose to hide from Elrond, Gil-Galad and of course, Adar himself...), she said 'no'.

The thing is, she indeed vocally resisted to the temptation of joining him, but everything she did afterwards showed Galadriel actually doing exactly what he wanted her to do.

I mean, who wanted rings ? Sauron. She knew that Sauron worked for Celebrimbor for weeks, knew he was the one who came up with the idea of a "power over flesh", knew it was his idea to tap into the unseen world, knew he had put his evil hands literally everywhere in the forge, including the mithril and her own dagger... And yet, she.... wait, she did exactly what Sauron disguised as Finrod told her to !

Sauron wanted these rings to be made, and she complied. To paraphrase Elrond, she gave him what he wanted and thanked him for that, I mean look at how happy she was to have a ring :

And if you're not convinced, there's the forewarning vision of Celebrimbor that Galadriel had in early S2, with Sauron calling her name and Celebrimbor asking her "are these not the seeds you planted ?", before being suffocated to death by roots looking like snakes :

There are no subtitles for what Celebrimbor said in black speech so here's the translation :

"Three Rings for the Elven-kings under the sky, Seven for the Dwarf-lords in their halls of stone, Nine for Mortal Men doomed to die"

This vision showed almost exactly what would happen: the rings that Sauron would forge, and Celebrimbor's death. Even the way he dies in the vision is identical to his actual death. Galadriel believes it's a warning sent by Nenya and that she has to go to Eregion to save Celebrimbor, but wasn't it another trick of Sauron, who as Elrond suggested, probably wanted her in Eregion ?

I was divided on this point until the finals really, where Sauron turned into Celebrimbor and repeated the exact same sentence she had heard in the vision: "Aren't they the seeds you planted ?".

How could Sauron know about that, if he wasn't the one who sent her the vision ? For the record, it wasn't a mind palace case like in season 1, where he invaded Galadriel's mind and used her memories of her brother. Halbrand's words, her own words, they all came from his memories. So in all logic, so did vision Celebrimbor's.

Sauron also wanted Galadriel not to reveal his identity : check.

Instead of telling Celebrimbor and Elrond the truth about Halbrand, she just inexplicably chose to keep her mouth shut, and left Eregion without informing Celebrimbor that the nice human he had worked with for weeks was actually Sauron, the Great Deceiver. She rather took the risk of letting Sauron come back in Eregion (I mean, telling Celebrimbor not to work with Halbrand again wasn't enough of a warning, be serious Gal !), than admit she had let a demon in his walls ; because of her pride, exactly as Sauron wanted. This bastard looked so smug about it when he realized she had done exactly what he expected her to :

If she had told Celebrimbor the truth, he would have never been allowed to even pass the door. This tolerance told him everything he needed to know.

But apart from that... She "resisted".

I'm very curious to see what will be the dynamics for season 3. Who will lead the dance this time ? My bet is on Galadriel.

[blueskittlesart]

Hello, I finished oot and loved it and so I started majora’s mask today, I’m not that far into it but I’m on the second day and it feels like I’m almost on the third but I don’t know and i feel like I wasted all my time wondering around getting myself acquainted with clock town and I am following a guide and it’s fun but I’m a little anxious about playing it since I’m bad at time management and hate being under a time limit, do you have any tips? And also if you fail to do something within 3 days in game, does your progress save or do you have to start all over again from scratch?

Also sorry for sending some of these, I know your not a guide and it may be a little weird, since your a art blog, sorry

hey! so first of all the point of the first 3-day cycle in majora's mask is that you can't really get anything done. you sort of need to "waste" that first cycle wandering around waiting for certain things to happen, so don't worry if you don't feel productive just yet!

in terms of being worried about the time limit, i understand it being anxiety-inducing but honestly in practice it's actually significantly MORE time than you need. also, after the first cycle you should be able to get a song (iirc it's from the scarecrow in the observatory? but i could be wrong) that will allow you to either slow down or speed up time, and slowing the timer every time you reset makes the rest of the game much easier! usually when I do that i end up with extra time at the end of my cycles.

as for what happens if you miss the time limit, yeah it's going to reset your progress. assume that basically anything you do in terms of dungeons or quests is going to be reset at the end of 3 days. Most of the dungeons are fairly easy to complete within the 3-day timer, but i recommend setting aside one full cycle for each dungeon and not trying to do anything else during that cycle, just in case. you also don't have to wait until the end of the 3 days to reset, you can play the song of time at any time, so if you mess up and feel like you'd rather just start over from the beginning of the cycle don't be afraid to do that! you also don't lose most of your inventory when you reset; you keep your masks and most other items, and you can keep your rupees if you use the bank.

[thecoolerliauditore]

Can i propose a wild thought to you that I'm rattling off as I just thought of it

Have you considered the lizzie-scott parallels/contrasts?

One of my favourite things about Lizzie is her perpetual "i meant to do that!" attitude she approaches everything with. She thinks herself the leader of sorts and the only compitent bamboozler but my girl is just as big of a loser and klutz, she's just gotten slightly luckier so far. Its why I love her and Jimmy, they both think they're the responsible one when really they play hot potato with the braincell except neither noticed the braincell was replaced with an actual hot potato. She's better at certain things (remembering things and deduction in particular) but none of those things are surviving and its completely negated by her curiosity.

But anyways my point is that like Scott she tries to pretend she's competent and the smart one who is babysitting her teammates, keeping them under control, when she isn't any of those things and actually she cares a lot and is internally screaming all the time.

She's just capable of dropping the mask to be vulnerable. Or, yknow, aware it is in fact a mask in the first place. At the end of the day Lizzie can open up and apologize when she does something silly or says something a bit too mean. She'll just find something new to puff up her chest about.

She's also a sweat, she's just really bad at it.

(Sorry I could probably compare seablings vs fh more to emphasise my point but im trying really hard to keep to the point of this ask without going on tangents and I don't trust myself to not spend 3 hours writing about seablings and forgetting the whole point if I do (also you could also probably compare joel/lizzie to your scott/pearl stuff but 1) i think that probably works better comparing joel and scott more than lizzie and scott and 2) i think comparing their relationship with the same person even if its a different type of relationship might be more revealing and 3) i'm bias))

I ACTUALLY HAVE PONDERED SCOTT AND LIZZIE BEFORE. Not to any level that I feel is worth its own post or anything but they definitely do have a handful of common points that have sent me spiraling in the past (<- guy who really, really likes death games in general and totally didn't try to map out a full hunger games AU at one point. and put scott and lizzie in district 1 together because it just makes sense and has horrifying implications for both of them).

Anyway this is all very true, I hadn't even considered it in the context of their relationships with Jimmy but it makes a lot of sense with the whole. Awhhh I have to Keep Him Alive oop there he goes I guess he'll be die next session 🙄🙄 sort of energy they both try to embody. And how it's kind of performative for both of them, but I think I'll have to let the season play out a bit more before I form any sort of opinion on Lizzie's treatment of Jimmy. (I'm forever sad that Lizzie missed out on three seasons I feel like she might've been a smajor level blorbo to me if she was just there more)

This is a little on the meta side but from what I understand Scott pretty much started off his youtube career with Lizzie's guidance post-WoW-party so I suppose it makes enough sense that he takes after her so much on a persona level as well. Except he's a lot worse at embracing the tongue-in-cheek insincerity. That thing you said about the mask.

I do think Scott is at least acutely aware of his performative nature too, just less willing to acknowledge it for what it is. Lizzie is lying to you, Scott is lying to you but more importantly lying to himself. And that's the difference that I think makes Scott so much more. Dangerous? I suppose would be the word to use. Other than the fact that he is just overall a lot better at being a sweat in general but I'd argue even that could be seen as part of his constant need to keep up his perfect image.

Anyway I'm very unfamiliar with Lizzie and Jimmy's dynamic so I'm excited to see how it goes and even moreso with the comparison to my guy now planted i n my mind. Cheers I loveee stuff like this.

Also sidenote I do find it very entertaining that I'm as predictable as I am <-- has thought about scott/pearl and joel/lizzie as foils alot especially in LL

[arsonistbunny]

Ok so first of all - this is crazy that it was about 50/50 all the time. Sadly it shows how much Security Breach fucked up (I have watched the interview with Dawko - it's still sad that they don't do something to fix it (the story) up still). Like, I'm not gonna make a pool about it but there are probably as many people who think Vanessa has a twin when to me it's just when Glitchtrap takes control?

Now, what do I think about it? To me, he's not William.

From the beginning (Help Wanted), it's been intentionally unclear: is he William? It's a trickster, a malware for sure. But then somehow it seems that a lot of people missed that his keysmash talking is actually copying the tape girl's voice (thanks to an-archaic-archivist for showing me this video???). Which is the first hint that he is the mimic. But then from Dawko's interview, Scott speaks as if Glitchtrap & The Mimic are two different characters - which I really don't like the idea of because they have the exact same motives and capacities. Putting two different villains one after the other with the exact same characterization is.....not a good horse to bet on? It's confusing and unnecessary. (DISCLAIMER. When I talk FNAF, unless specified I'm only talking from a game point of view I am never talking about the books and I will not.)

But anyways!!! Here's my theory from when I tried to crack Glitchtrap!! :)

If you know me, you know I love Princess Quest Glitchtrap. It is a very particular form to give to a character that is a malware mimicking, isn't it? The Princess Quest games all depict floating rabbit heads as enemies, and in the end, you meet an amalgamation of them, with one head that is more aware and in control—Glitchtrap.

And, you know, to find answers you're just gonna go looking at the stuff you've already seen, already know, that might be similar in one way or another. I don't remember what exactly made me think about the Funtime Animatronics but that's where I went. The question of why Circus Baby is also Elizabeth but the others aren't.

When you get under the desk on Night 3, you hear Circus Baby talking and not Elizabeth. You can notice they're not always speaking as one. Circus Baby telling you how Elizabeth died: "I would always count the children– I’m not sure why. I was always acutely aware of how many there were in the room with me. [...] A little girl, standing by herself. I was no longer... myself, and I stopped singing. My stomach opened, and there was ice cream. I couldn’t move—at least, not until she stepped closer. There was screaming for a moment, but only for a moment. Then other children rushed in again, but they couldn’t hear her over the sounds of their own excitement. I still hear her sometimes. Why did that happen?"

Elizabeth as Baby in Pizza Sim: "You played right into our hands, did you really think that this job just fell out of the sky for you? No. This was a gift, for us. You gathered them all together in one place, just like he asked you to. All of those little souls, in one place, just for us, a gift. Now we can do what we were created to do, and be complete! I will make you proud daddy! Watch, listen, and be full."

But Funtime Freddy and the others don't do that. You know, it almost feels like... they're alive. Well that was the point, wasn't it? They're alive but stuck under their coding. Just like when Baby could not disobey the rule of counting the children. From Pizza Simulator we find out what exactly the SCOOPER is and with that, that the Funtimes were all brought to life with remnant, some sort of amalgamation of children's souls, to snap more children's souls.

In Circus Baby's case, 1. she was brought to life by remnant and with this many souls it seems that they all lose their consciousness to one the robot's coding, adopting the robot's coding as their personality. But then 2. when, she killed Elizabeth, this one went to haunt the robot creating a """two people one body kind of situation""", they're both aware as Circus Baby and Elizabeth.

And yeah, this makes me think a lot of Glitchtrap in that case. Because Glitchtrap might be just that. Remnant. An amalgamation of souls. But this one didn't get a robot to 'get their personality' so to speak. So they're dormant. Until they get awakened by being accidentally put into a VR game. They don't know who they are, or what they are. Their whole world is literally just FNAF games at this point. So they get to choose. They don't have a sense of right and wrong. They're choosing the most powerful figure in there: William. They mimic him. They don't realize what is wrong, they're proudly guiding the player on their own level (Pizza Party) to show them their crimes (William's crimes that they reclaimed as part of the mimicking).

They're in a game. When you die, you restart the level. Until Jeremy. They realize the beta testers can actually 'log out' and they have a way bigger world. So they want out. But those beta players get away and never come back (because he's dead). So they gotta step up the tricking game. So they mimic a voice.

And then it works! So they pretend to be Vanessa. They get to be Vanny. They order Vanessa around. And it fails! They get trapped and need to attract someone from the outside - they mimic Gregory. The plan almost succeeds. They mimic Roxy.

When I posted this piece, I saw some people with DID thought this was about DID, and I was not thinking of it, I was thinking of my theory - and I did say (afterwards or before can't find the post) that I'm honored my art gets interpreted in some ways I didn't think of it before. It's actually very nice but most importantly good for you. You deserve to feel linked to characters you like.

Anyways..Scott hit me up I have ideas I can share if you ever feel like you're stuck.

im curious, actually

(rb for a better reach pls)

[theothin]

I wasn't old enough to vote in 2008, but I paid a lot of attention to the election regardless. I was excited to see Obama elected, and hopeful for how much he would change things.

By 2012, that excitement had faded. After a couple of years of his presidency, my enthusiasm gave way to frustration with ways he and other Democrats didn't feel like enough of an improvement over the Republicans. Rather than voting for him for re-election, I cast my first vote for president for Jill Stein, hoping that others would take care of re-electing him but that my own vote would play a role in paving the way to something better.

Obama succeeded in winning re-election, but the votes for Stein didn't show any sign of accomplishing anything. Still, in 2016, an alternative emerged: Bernie Sanders.

I supported Sanders in the primary, and was disappointed when he lost to Clinton. I felt tempted to repeat the same thing I had done in 2012, but as the election loomed closer, I realized that the prospect of a Trump presidency was too dangerous to risk in the name of sending a message. I concluded that Clinton needed all the support she could get, and voted for her as well as encouraging others to do the same.

It turned out that the support Clinton needed was even more than what she got. Trump won that election, and the consequences were catastrophic.

In the 2020 primaries, I voted for Elizabeth Warren, but recognized that Biden's lead was insurmountable. This time, I went in prepared to adapt. I knew that there were things I didn't like about Biden and that more would turn up in the future, especially if he became president. I also knew that his opposition would still be far worse, and promised myself that none of that would change my support for Biden in the general elections. I voted for him, and thankfully, he won.

Over the years since then, Biden faced accusations of not being progressive enough, just like Obama had. This time, I held to my commitment not to let those accusations sway me again. If he had continued to run, I would have gladly voted for him again. But he didn't, and so the same reasoning passed to Kamala Harris.

I voted for Harris this morning, and I hope the support she's gathered is enough.

[ladykailitha]

Around the World Part 6

Hello! And welcome to another chapter of this very underrated fic. Thank you to everyone who has given it love in the way of comments, reblogs/tags, and likes.

It's London calling! And we meet a Murray Bauman in the wild. Eddie and Steve get a little introspective and Steve does something rash.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

~

Their trip through the haunting and beautiful Ireland was amazing. So many tales and history. This is why Steve wanted to do more than just America like Eddie had originally wanted, because America just didn’t have the history Europe and other places did. Not unless you wanted to disturb actual First Nation people and that was something he wanted to avoid at all cost, thank you.

They were on the ferry from Northern Ireland to Scotland and Steve was looking out over his shoulder at the water as he leaned against the guardrail. He tilted his head back and closed his eyes, allowing the wind to blow through his hair.

Eddie slid his arm around him and Steve laid his head on his shoulder.

Today Eddie had his beard and faux-dreadlocks in a light blue button up shirt and cream colored wide-legged pants. His chunky sunglasses covered the his face.

“You know,” Eddie murmured, “until we reached this leg of our journey and you started to disguise me, I didn’t realize how much I missed just being Eddie Munson, regular guy. I can really see the appeal of you and friends’ way of doing it.”

“Yeah,” Steve said softly. “Of course it means that we can’t go all out and buy everything we want, stay in fancy hotels, show up at restaurants without a reservation and get in. But I can go into my local grocery store and buy two tubs of mint ice cream because I felt like it.” He lifted his head to look Eddie in the eye. “Like some Karen would judge me, but it’s not going to go up on TMZ that I’m letting myself go.”

God, Eddie had had that happen more times than he cared to count. Like once Chrissy was on her period and he went to go get her chocolate, Ben and Jerry’s, and pads. Before he even got to his car it was all over the internet that he was letting himself go, just because it was 2am and his best friend needed something to help her feel better.

“You think you’ll ever come out?” he asked, pulling Steve in closer.

It was a familiar and well-worn topic of theirs; whether or not Steve would ever come out as bisexual at least.

He ducked his head and looked away. He didn’t know. He didn’t like hiding parts of himself for those he loved. He would like to tell people this is the love of my life.

“Would you leave me if I said no?” he mumbled, not daring to look up.

Eddie placed his finger under Steve’s chin and lifted his head gently. “Of course not, Stevie. There are literal actors who have been married for years and no one knows. It’s just between them. We could do that too. Just a quiet ceremony, Robin and Chrissy as the witnesses, and a justice of the peace.”

Steve let out a weak sort of watery laugh and shook his head. “I want all our friends there, famous and otherwise. I want a full tilt party with music playing into the early hours of the morning. I want fancy tuxes and flowers galore. I know I might not get that, the absolute coward that I am. But if I marry you, it be to scream from the rooftops that I love you.”

Eddie bumped their shoulders together. “Softy.” Steve blushed. “Besides there is nothing in the world that says we can’t have it both ways. Have a quiet little ‘just us’ and then go full tilt when you come out. You don’t even have to tell anyone. Just a little comfort that I’m not going anywhere.”

Steve pressed a gentle kiss to Eddie’s cheek. “I’ll think about it.”

Eddie kissed him deeply and then tucked his head under his chin and they stayed like that until the ferry docked in Scotland.

~

God, Scotland and England were beautiful countries Eddie decided as he watched the rolling green hills from his train window. That was another thing he really liked about Europe in general, just all the different ways to travel that weren’t a car.

He looked over at Steve who had his glasses on and reading a book. He smiled at the title. His boyfriend wasn’t a fantasy fan or science fiction either, really, but put a clever mystery in his hands and you would have to pry to the book from his cold, dead fingers.

He glanced over at Chrissy and Robin who were playing Go Fish! They had asked him if he wanted to join them, but he passed. He rarely got time to just relax and watch the scenery go by when he was on tour. He was always doing something related to the band. Writing music, practicing, talking about the next venue, interview, or TV spot.

Him and his friends had fun, because of course they did. But it was nice to just let his mind wander. Currently he was sad that they were going to have to miss Wales this time. He really wanted to buy some Welsh gold jewelry. It’s super rare and absolutely gorgeous.

Maybe he would have to come back later and get something special for Steve. Just something simple like matching bands even if it wasn’t on the left hand. Or necklaces. Just something simple to prove they were it for each other.

“I made an appointment with a well-known tattoo artist in London,” Steve said nonchalant, but like he was reading Eddie’s thoughts.

Everyone stopped what they were doing and turned to Steve. Robin nearly giving herself whiplash in her speed.

“As your friend, manager, and platonic soulmate,” she said darkly, “I advise against that. You can cover it up but someone, somewhere will see it.”

Steve looked up from his book and leveled her with his best bitchy glare. “Not if it’s on my ass.”

Chrissy and Eddie’s eyebrows shot up and they shared a shocked glance. Eddie always loved tattoos, he had a couple of stick and poke style ones from when he was young and stupid and couldn’t afford to pay for an artist to do the job, but there was one place, well technically two if you included his dick, which he absolutely did, that he refused to get a tattoo on and that was his ass. Not being able to sit down properly for what would probably be weeks was not his idea of a good time.

“Not really, though, right?” Chrissy asked with a grimace.

Steve took off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Of course not really. Sheesh, you guys. But I hid fucking hickies from the both of you for a year and you never noticed, so I’m pretty sure I can hide one fucking tattoo.”

Robin and Chrissy shared their little ‘manager’ glance and Chrissy folded first.

“You’re right, Steve,” she said calmly. “Not once did you forget or slip up and you should be applauded for that. But is there a reason you’re deciding to get a tattoo now instead of waiting until we’re back in the States and you can use Eddie’s personal artist?”

He looked over at Robin and their little telepathy thing went off again and this time Robin folded first.

“It’s for Eddie,” she murmured. “They can’t be out as a couple and with Steve being the romantic that he is, wouldn’t want to get married without all his friends there, so this is his way of telling Eddie he isn’t going anywhere either.”

Eddie blinked for a moment. “Do you think they take walk-ins?”

“I booked it for both of us.” Steve smiled at him and took his hand. Eddie beamed back at him.

“They are so disgustingly cute,” Robin huffed, crossing her arms. “I bet Steve has this really sweet idea for a tattoo that even if people do notice it they won’t be able to tell the meaning but he and Eddie will know and be so sickeningly precious about it.”

Eddie gave him a huge kiss on the cheek. “I love my super clever boyfriend and can’t wait to see what this brilliant plan is.”

~

Steve’s brilliant plan was half of a white mask on Eddie’s inner wrist and half of guitar on Steve’s and when they held hands it formed almost heart.

The tattoo artist was really impressed with the idea and was more than happy to implement it. Steve walked out of there, completely smug as Chrissy pointed out. Deservedly so.

They were to stay in London for three days because of all the haunted places in London alone, there were so many worth visiting. They were going to start at Jack the Ripper tour and move onto the tour of London.

The tour they learned with deep dismay had accidentally been scheduled at 2pm and not 2am like Eddie had thought it said. It was so boring and their tour guide so dull, Eddie accidentally tripped of one of those concrete pillars they had in the middle of the sidewalk to prevent cars from driving up on it.

“Oof!” Eddie wheezed as he straightened up. “Why do they even put those things here?”

“Chrissy Cunningham,” a nasally voice said from behind them. “What are you doing in my neck of the woods?”

They all turned slowly to see a weaselly little bald man with thick horn-rimmed glass.

“Holy shit,” Chrissy said slowly. “Murray Bauman, as I live and breath. What the hell are you doing in London?”

He shrugged. “Eking out a living doing tours for bored tourists. When the biggest metal band in the world drops you, so does everyone else.”

Chrissy and Eddie shared a grimace. Corroded Coffin had deliberately did that to Nancy after the shit she pulled with Steve and trying to be The Fallen’s agent. But this one was a complete accident.

“Oh fuck off,” Robin said with a grin. “You love it. I can tell. You have actual notes written down, you have a map marked with all the spots the murders take place. I bet you have all the great stories.”

Murray flushed and cocked his head to the side. “I mean I didn’t want to brag. But yeah, certainly better than Molly over there.” He jutted his thumb at their tour guide. “Most of the good ones are from tour companies and then you get people like Molly who make it look legit online and trick people into taking day tours.”

“God, I was so bored,” Eddie huffed, shoving his hands into his pockets, “I felt jet lagged.”

Murray’s eyes instantly narrowed and cocked his head to the side and instantly everyone else tensed up. He took in their reactions and mimed zipping his mouth shut.

“I’ll tell you what,” he said, “if you’re still in town tomorrow, meet me here at 9pm and I’ll give you a proper tour.”

Chrissy licked her lips slowly. “Or what?”

“Huh?” He was confused for a moment before he smacked his forehead. “Oh! No, no. I’m not going to blackmail you. Holy shit. If people want to enjoy a vacation without all the publicity, good on them.” He looked Eddie up and down. “Looks good on you kid.”

Eddie was suddenly glad for the large sunglasses and beard because it hid the blush on his cheeks.

“No, I’m just saying,” Murray continued, “that if you wanted to experience a proper Jack the Ripper tour, I’m willing to do it. I don’t have a tour currently booked and beside I like her.” He pointed at Robin, who grinned back him.

The four them all shared glances at each other.

“I’m down,” Steve said with a shrug. “If you’re as good as you say you are and aren’t trying to actively ‘get back’ at Chrissy for taking your job, I know I’d be interested in seeing what Whitechapel has to offer after dark.”

“I like him too,” Murray said brightly, rubbing his hands together. “So what do the rest of you say?”

“Aye, aye, Captain!” Steve’s three menaces said together.

He just smiled fondly and shook his head.

~

Tag List: CLOSED

1- @mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog

2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @val-from-lawrence

3- @goodolefashionedloverboi @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog @irregular-child @blondie1006

4- @yikes-a-bee @bookworm0690 @anne-bennett-cosplayer @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten

5- @genderless-spoon @y4r3luv @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt

6- @disrespectedgoatman @dawners @thespaceantwhowrites @tinyplanet95 @garden-of-gay

7- @iamthehybrid @croatoan-like-its-hot @papergrenade @cryptid-system @counting-dollars-counting-stars

8- @ravenfrog @w1ll0wtr33 @child-of-cthulhu @kultiras @dreamercec

9- @machete-inventory-manager @useless-nb-bisexual @stripey82 @dotdot-wierdlife @kal-ology

10- @sadisticaltarts @urkadop @chameleonhair @clockworkballerina

[sysmedsaresexist]

Hello. I know I've sent in messages before but very very rarely. But recent events have caused us to have a question. Just this week, we got officially diagnosed with D.I.D and recommended the idea of getting a psychologist for the first time in my life, besides a psychiatrist. Two of my alts say they can't be serious but the other three think they are bout the psychologist and we are nervous. I saw you talking about disorganized attachment in your latest posts and was wondering if you could tell me more bout what that is because it sounds like I may have experienced that and I'm trying to understand myself and us more from others with experience with D.I.D and similar disorders. We hope that makes sense! We are still very new to all of this. Thank you so much for your time. - Us

First, congrats!!! Try to come back and tell us what therapy and the interviews are like! I'm certain my followers would love to hear about it. It's scary, I'm so proud of you ❤️

Disorganized attachment is both very complicated, and quite easy to understand. I just reblogged a couple old posts about it, but this will be shorter :)

This is my favorite image to describe it!

Note that disorganized attachment (DA, from here on) is linked to low trust in self AND others. All of these types of attachment have shown strong links to different types of disorders, but DA is most associated with dissociative disorders.

The most important thing I've learned is

Even well-meaning, well-intentioned, loving parents can cause DA

DA can be hidden trauma, its relation to neglect is much stronger than originally thought, and neglect is a lot harder to spot and understand than straight up abuse.

A quick note here: DO NOT play trauma Olympics-- with yourselves, with others, on this post, nothing. Trauma is a personal reaction to events, abuse, or neglect and can occur in response to literally anything. When it comes to CDDs, we're looking at cumulative responses resulting in psychopathology, and you don't get to decide what was enough for other people.

It's their reactions.

Mind your own business.

So, all that said, DA is about the child being both fearful and reliant on caregivers. They want to both flee to and flee from caregivers. When a caregiver is unpredictable, the child has a difficult time establishing a consistent view of the caregiver, and of themselves. In other words, the caregiver is both needed, and someone to be avoided, and the child may not understand what makes them a “good” or “bad” child, as the caregiver’s behavior is often confusing and unpredictable.

I'm going to throw out a couple examples here:

Parent A has yelled at you, and you're scared to go to parent B and talk about it - neither parent feels safe but they're your only source of comfort

You're hungry, but parents scold you for eating too much - you're both scared to ask for your needs and yet reliant on their abilities to meet them

Sometimes parent is attentive and kind, and sometimes very dismissive - you never know what you're going to get, but when they're dismissive, it kills your drive for things you thought you enjoyed - sometimes parent puts your art on the fridge and sometimes they throw it in the trash, and maybe that particular piece was important and you'd expected better reception

Parent gets physical when they drink but at school, parent is a model citizen and teachers and other students always tell you how lucky you are

Parents are openly homophobic and you think you might be a little gay - they're good people otherwise (you think), and maybe if you just keep that part of you down...

Parent struggles with their own mental illness and you never know what kind of reaction they'll have, but you treasure the good memories and hold out hope you'll see that side of them again, despite the many letdowns

Parent doesn't let you keep anything to yourself, it's to the point you want to avoid them as much possible, only seeing them for meals

Parent is... mean. Just flat out mean, and they'll tell you no one will listen to you. There's no point is trying to find help with other caregivers-- teachers, babysitters, friends. It's just you and them, against the world.

The start of DA is typically formed in infancy when a parent doesn't respond properly to their child. Missed feedings, not enough skin time, mixing "cry it out" with giving in, ignoring cries for food or changing. These first attachments in infancy set the tone for all your attachments going forward. Meeting needs and milestones help the brain develop in a healthy way. If some of these milestones are missed or slowed, you tend to see psychopathology of some kind as a result. Various future relationships are likely to be affected, and more often than not, you respond to your own children the same way-- a type of intergenerational trauma.

And this is only the grey areas. We haven't touched full and proper abuse and how that can affect someone.

The result of DA is that a child will try to push memories and feelings about their caregivers down so that they're not bothered-- they can interact with their caregiver, whatever mood they're in or whatever happened yesterday.

If you just kill your feelings, parent's outbursts don't hurt as much. If you just don't think about what they did to you, you can put on a smile and get through dinner.

This is, in and of itself, dissociation. A rejection of feelings or memories. DA on its own isn't very likely to cause a CDD, but with additional trauma, it's... oof.

Children with DA and suffering from abuse “are likely to generate two or more dissociated self states, with contradictory working models of attachment,” in order to handle their confusing relationship with the caregiver. This can go in several directions, not necessarily a CDD, but it becomes much more likely.

So, the child needs to maintain a relationship with the caregiver– they have no one else to turn to, so the child can develop dissociation as a way to make sense of themselves, and to maintain a child-caregiver relationship. They may “forget” the abuse, or deny it. “It is an adaptive and defensive strategy that enables the child to function within the relationship, but it often leads to the development of a fragmented sense of self.” This fragmented sense of self may or may not develop into something worse– namely, BPD and DID based on severity, frequency, and whether there was any sense of reprieve (i.e. a child can avoid the worst of dissociative symptoms if one of their parents was more supportive, because it helps them build some positive attachments).

I really hope this helps!

Good luck, come back soon!

[beauty-is-terrror]

I know your planning to be angsty and hurt my feelings with your Henry/reader, but I'd love to hear about how the relationship began, all the soft moments, etc. Even if it is just in dot-point form

Thank you very much for your lovely ask. This is the VERY beginning. I have more parts planned so y'all can see how their relationship started and grow, the butterflies rising and first confessions of attraction and love.

____________________________________________________________

please keep in mind that i am not an english literature student, i do not have any literature degrees. therefor i have no idea if this even makes sense, BUT i did read a paper on the symbolism of weather in Wuthering Heights.

english is not my first language

____________________________________________________________

THE FIRST MEETING: Henry Winter x Reader

The wind was rattling on the windows of the Lyceum and on the first floor a group of eager students was waiting for their professor to finally bless them with his presents. Henry was sitting quietly, reading his book, not paying attention to the talking around him.

Richard sitting opposite of him, just stared out the window and played with the pen in his hand.

While Camilla and Francis talked quietly between each other trying to make up their minds about where to have lunch today and what they should have for dinner on Sunday.

On the other side of the table Bunny was trying to explain to Charles why he should come with him to this party tonight, because according to Bunny it would do Charles good to interact with someone outside of their class.

Time passed. The wind was getting stronger.

Suddenly there was movement outside the classroom, a pair of feet moving up the stairs. But it was too loud for just one pair of feet and two voices were starting to get louder as they moved up to the first floor, echoing in the nearly empty building.

Richard, Camilla, Francis, Charles and Bunny moved their eyes toward the door.

Henry still focused on the book in front of him.

The voices grow louder, and it feel like minutes had passed before the door finally opened and Julian walked through it followed by a head of chocolate brown hair.

“Good morning, everybody.” Julian said while looking at each of his students.

I am stepping beside him to look at who he has been greeting, just to be met with stares from five pairs of eyes.

Silence.

Julian moves his face slightly towards me and says low “Usually they are quite the opposite, and I have problems making them stop talking.” I smile at him and look at the faces who are still looking at me like I am some Victorian ghost from a different century.

“Hello. I am Y/N” I try to introduce myself before the silence grows into awkwardness. My name leaves my mouth, and I am being met with a pair of dark brown eyes sitting behind a pair of glasses. He didn’t look up when Julian and I walked in. He didn’t look up when Julian greeted them just moments ago. But he looks up when he hears me saying my name. My eyes stay on his, my hands start sweating and for a moment I am not sure who I am nor where I am. His eyes seem so familiar. We only look at each other in the eyes for a handful of seconds but I could look at them for hours.

My eyes break away, a slight flush rises in my cheeks, and I smile at all the other faces. A muffle of Hellos is moving through the room.

“Well, this is Y/N and she will be with us for about two lessons each week this semester. One of her literature professors is a good friend of mine and asked if I would be having her for some of my lectures. Y/N has a special interest in Greek literature from the ancient world and it’s influences on Victorian and modern literature.” Julian finally giving his students some context on why I was standing there. Why I am intruding their closed off club. Julian moved aside and gestures for me to sit down.

The only empty seat is next to Richard and so I sit down carefully while still being stared at. They have not taken their eyes off me, as if they can’t believe I am not just a hallucination. I swallow and look at the faces around the table, I am being met with smiles from Richard and Francis.

“I am Richard, nice to meet.” He says shy next to me. “Hey.” I say with a low voice.

“Ehm.” Richard’s eyes move towards Henry who has been starring down on his book since our eye contact broke. “Well, this is Camilla and Francis.” Richards nods towards the girl and boy opposite of me. “It is nice to meet you.” I lock eyes with Camilla for a second, but I am not sure what to make of her facial expression, while Francis just smiles, takes my hand and places a kiss on top of it “It is a pleasure to meet you.” Francis’s eyes move from mine to Charles and Bunny. “These two are Charles and Edmund, well Bunny. And they also have no manners as it seems.” They both say hello but are not able to say more as Julian sits down at the head of the table and all eyes are on him, well not all of them. I can feel one pair of brown eyes staring at me from the other end of the table.

“Good. Now that everyone has been introduced, I suggest we start today lesson …” Julian is a marvelous speaker and I can barely keep up with taking notes as he speaks, pens are moving across endless pages, as if any word not written down would be crime. Even though I try to focus on the words coming from Julian’s mouth, I can still feel a pair of dark brown eyes staring at me from the other end of the table. He has not introduced himself to me. He is not writing down a single word. He just looks at me.

As the lesson goes on Julian makes a few references to Victorian literature and we start to discuss Emily Bronte, while the others look between us as if we are speaking a language, they are not familiar with. I am surprised, has no one here ever read anything from one of the Bronte sisters or anything that isn’t a thousand-year-old poem? Suddenly I hear a little giggle from the end of the table, where he has been sitting all this time, staring at me. All eyes move to him. I look him straight in the eyes and say “Is there something you want to add?” and my hands are starting to sweat again.

He opens his mouth and for the first time I get to hear his voice, a voice which would grow familiar to me like my own. “I was just wondering if you could elaborate on the last point you made, about the symbolism of weather in Wuthering Heights.”

His comment surprises me, I look down for a second to break our eye contact, just to collect myself and my thoughts before I look into these dark brown eyes again. “Of course … “ and for the next couple of minutes all I see is him. His eyes. His lips. His sharp jaw line. Everyone and everything around me fads into nothingness. I can see how his eyes move between my lips and my eyes as the corners of his mouth move up so slightly. Till we sit there, smiling at each other in silence and only having eyes for one another.

Richard looks at Francis and Camilla just to find them starring at Henry, just like he has been. Is Henry really smiling? And has he really read Wuthering Heights? Even Julian seems to be surprised. And we all sit there in silence. Charles and Bunny exchanging looks, Camilla looks at Francis. Richard stares at Y/N. Something has happened, something has shifted. The atmosphere is not the same anymore and it feels like they have been witnessing an intimate moment, a private moment.

Julians sighs “We should have students from other departments join us more often. It can lead to such interesting conversations. Oh well, now let us talk about your homework for our next lesson.” The word homework echoing through the room makes most of his students stop starring at Henry and Y/N. But not the two of you. He presses his lips together and lets his eyes leave my face, just to glare down my upper body instead. I can feel my hands sweating and my cheeks blushing. Again.

At some point Julian closes the lesson for today and everybody is eager to get out. Camilla throws her notebook and pen into her bag and grabs Francis upper arm. Bunny is basically pushing Charles down the stairs, while explaining to him, again, that he must go to that party with him tonight. Julians steps next to Richards and asks him if has time for a little chat, as he has been impressed with his recent improvement in Latin.

And so, it just him and me in the room. Alone. I still don’t know his name.

I carefully put pen and notebook into my bag, while pretending to look for something inside of it, for some reason I want to be in his presence just a little bit longer, alone. Even though looking at him seems impossible right now, my cheeks are already red and hot. He pushes his chair back, grabs his notebook, book and fountain pen before moving around the table so he must walk right behind me. I am about to get up myself when he stops behind my back. We both stand still for a second and I can hear him breathing behind me. His face moves next to my ear “It seems like I have to read Wuthering Heights again and look for some of the motives you have mentioned.” His voice is low, he nearly whispers as if trying to make sure that only I can hear these words which sound so thoughtful. My head moves slightly, and we are so close, our noses are nearly touching. “I would love to hear your thoughts …” I want to address him by his name, but I don’t know it and he can see the slight confusion in my face. His eyes move to my lips again before looking into my eyes again and then there is something soft in them as he says, “My name is Henry.” Only a low “Hello.” is able to leave my mouth. He gets moving to leave the classroom, just to stop at the door and look back at me “I am looking forward to see you again.” And without me being able to reply anything he is off and I can only hear his steps down the stairs.

[stereopticons]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

Thanks for the tags (and the distraction), @kiwiana-writes and @filet-o-feelings!

1. How many works do you have an AO3? 96!

2. What's your total AO3 word count? 358,657

3. What fandoms do you write for? Primarily Schitt’s Creek and RWRB. I have 2 911 WIPs that I’ll probably never finish and one 911/SC crossover threesome fic that I do kinda want to finish but I don’t see myself writing for that fandom regularly.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

the lie between your teeth (Schitt’s Creek)

if i’m not beyond repair (Schitt’s Creek)

never knew a home until I found your hands (RWRB)

love you in moderation (do I look moderate to you?) (Schitt’s Creek)

so bitter and so sweet (Schitt’s Creek)

So basically, angst, angst, smut, smut, and a coffeeshop au

5. Do you respond to comments? Always, eventually! I’m just really, really slow.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? Probably the SC MCD fic lol

(we’ll always long for) one more song

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Basically all the others? Obviously there are some that are just tooth-rotting fluff the whole way through but I kind of feel like the lie between your teeth feels like the happiest payoff

8. Do you get hate on fics? Not lately. It could be that I haven’t been writing much though.

9. Do you write smut? I have been told that filth and feelings is my trademark (also btw I have not given up on kinktober, it’s just slow going)

10. Do you write crossovers? I have! I wrote a pre-canon SC/Crazy Ex-Girlfriend crossover (twist yourself around me) and there’s the above mentioned threesome fic that maybe I’ll get around to finishing.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? Not a whole fic, no.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? I haven’t, but might be open to it if someone asked.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? Yes! (B)13 Reasons Why with @blackandwhiteandrose and parallax with @indestructibleheart. Always open to more collabs!

(What happened to 14? Why is there no question? This is only 19 questions!)

15. What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? Well, you see, I’m very stubborn and mostly refuse to give up on any of the wips even though realistically I know they won’t all get finished. I don’t think I will finish the 911 wips I mentioned before but that’s more because I don’t want to anymore.

16. What are your writing strengths? Idk man, I guess I’m pretty good at feelings? I am really struggling with writing lately so I don’t know how to answer this.

17. What are your writing weaknesses? Getting words on the page? Having any original takes? I guess plot and the interstitial stuff like dialogue tags and transitions?

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic? If the character speaks a language other than English, I think it’s fine but definitely run it by a speaker of that language if you don’t know jt.

19. First fandom you wrote for? Rent

20. Favourite fics you've written? This is so hard to answer but I think today it’s shine like silver, the David was a talented pianist as a child canon divergence.

Tagging @hippolotamus @blackandwhiteandrose @indestructibleheart @rosedavid @blueeyedgrlwrites and anyone else who wants to play