#it's a TRASHFIRE and i am NOT SORRY

[bonesandpoemsandflowers]

if instead of a revival in a few years we get love never dies, I’m gonna fucking riot.

[plutoids-thoughts]

Am I listening to the age of extinction soundtrack for the fourth time this week? Unimportant.

What’s more important is WHO IS CUTTING ONIONS????

[fanfic-lover-girl]

The HP Epilogue: JKR's trashfire ending to a trash book series

I was reading snippets from the epilogue for the first time and everything about the epilogue is just frustrating. And I want to share things I found intolerable about it to let off steam. These are MY opinions so if you feel differently, I am happy for you. But here is a summary of my gripes.

The names of the Hinny Harry's kids

James Sirius. Albus Severus. Lily Luna. I can empathize with wanting to honour people you love by naming your kids after them...but this is just overkill. Not one of Harry's kids has an original name. Not one! And I said Harry's kids because it seems like Ginny had absolutely no input in the names. If I am being generous, maybe the Luna name was hers, but given the naming pattern of the kids, I am sure that Luna references Lupin and not Luna Lovegood. Sometimes I feel as if Harry has a domineering vibe in Hinny and the kids' names are not doing any favours to combat that. Not surprising as everything about the Hinny romance was dictated by Harry's wants. Who cares about Ginny?

Muggleborne discrimination is bad but pureblood discrimination is A-ok

‘You’re right, sorry,’ said Ron, but unable to help himself, he added, ‘don’t get too friendly with him, though, Rosie. Granddad Weasley would never forgive you if you married a pure-blood.’

I could not believe my eyes when I read this. It's like Ron forgot that HIS family is pureblood! It's the same vibe as a black parent telling their black or mixed kid not to marry another black person! Luna is pureblood! Neville is pureblood! Do the Weasleys have some kind of self-hatred?? Another point to purebloods slowly dying out but who cares? As far as JKR is concerned, the wizards should be aiming to all be mutts with mixed blood :)

BTW the Scorpius/Rose pairing fills me with revulsion. I like Albus and Scorp as friends though! But not so much as lovers.

Marriage is the only way to be truly part of a family

‘Oh, it would be lovely if they got married!’ whispered Lily ecstatically. ‘Teddy would really be part of the family then!’

Got some heavy Hinny vibes from this line of dialogue. Harry did not become a true Weasley until he got with Ginny after all :)

I know Lily is a kid and she means no malice, but I truly felt disgust towards this line. It just bothers me, especially in the context of Hinny and how Ginny functions as a way for Harry to become a Weasley member. Teddy is Harry's godson, he should be like a big brother to Lily. How does becoming a cousin-in-law make him more of a family member compared to being her surrogate big bro??

Do Hogwarts alumni swear an oath of secrecy?

‘And you don’t want to believe everything he tells you about Hogwarts,’ Harry put in.

He had never told any of his children that before, and he saw the wonder in Albus’s face when he said it.

So James Sirius is telling Albus Severus exaggerated tales about Hogwarts similar to what the Weasley twins did to Ron. But how is this possible? Do the parents not talk about Hogwarts to their kids? If my kid was going to my alma mater, I would tell him/her all about the school when I went there. I don't understand why it seems like parents don't talk about Hogwarts. At least Draco's parents seem to talk to him about the school at least.

Muggle abuse is still funny Ha. Ha.

‘As a matter of fact, I did Confund him,’ Ron whispered to Harry, as together they lifted Albus’s trunk and owl on to the train. ‘I only forgot to look in the wing mirror, and let’s face it, I can use a Supersensory Charm for that.’

Remember that Ron is an Auror! A wizarding cop! But nah muggles are still lesser than wizards so even a guy like Ron who's supposed to be a good hero character feels no shame in messing with their autonomy. Ron is literally so disgusting in the epilogue. Never thought I would end HP finding Ron the least tolerable of the trio when Ron is usually my fav of the 3. Not that the bar is very high for the other two.

JKR really does not like Draco

His hair was receding somewhat, which emphasised the pointed chin.

Of course, JKR can't end the series without throwing more shade at Draco. He's rocking the middle-aged man look, only has one kid and has a love interest that we know squat about. And then in CC, Draco's wife dies! Sigh, I really hate Drastoria...

All is not well

There is still house discrimination. Magical creatures likely still have fewer rights. Aurors like Ron and everyday wizards abuse their powers against muggles. Purebloods are dying out. Wizards like Albus act like they did not grow up in a magical world, aka wizards still have low brain cell counts. But sure, Harry's scar is fine so ALL IS WELL!

I can't believe there are people out here calling JKR a good writer! I see the vast potential of the book series and I feel so sad sometimes. I am so happy that HP never existed in my childhood.

[reptilian-angel]

The Cafe' Prince & The Killer Cook Pt. 1:

Chapter One - "Egg on your Face" Mega-Omelet

ME: Blitzø, having suffered a the worst day of his life, finds an unexpected silver lining when he awakens inside some random cafe hosted by a sweet (if oddly articulate) little girl, Via and her chef daddy, Stolas (Who looks like Hell on Wheels and cooks just as good, but who gave a shit.)

Later on after this chance encounter, a completely unanticipated offer might just be what Blitzø needs to turn his trashfire of an existence into a lifetime of amazing food, exciting moments and maybe even . . . Love?

Stolitz fluff, food chain puns, good food and healthy doses of angst await you at the Stars & Stir-Ups Cafe’!!! (Yet to be named)

Inspired by Pink Lomito’s ABSOLUTELY ADORABLE Stolitz Cafe’ AU fanart and written with their blessing, so I can only hope this will live up to the hype! (Displayed Below)

Full disclosure, I DO bake as a hobby, but I am NOT a career baker so most of descriptions of any foods mentioned, cooking and otherwise, will totally be written by an author completely in the dark, so please be gentle with any criticisms regarding any of the cooking displayed here. (Also see the end of the chapters for the recipes used, or at least the closest comparisions.)

Get Your knives and forks ready, you sinners & saints, and please enjoy!! I owe nothing!!!

Normal P.O.V.

When Blitzø woke up, he was automatically confused.

He had expected to be face flat, ass up on the shitty, grime covered flour of the bar he had trudged into last night like he had only hours to live. It had been a record-breaking shitty-ass day for him and he decided, like the many, many bitchy broke losers out there who had had their dreams squashed and trampled on like gnats in Hell, to drown his sorrows. Burning $ouls like tissue paper, he had began going for broke, mooching off other patrons and drunkards, earning petty shots in impromptu contests and maybe even performed a small strip tease for a gaggle of succubi and incubi.

He wasn’t a hundred percent sure how it ended, although he did have a vague recollection of plowing his dick into one of the incubi in one of the nasty as fuck bathroom stalls and wondering if the greasy pump soap could be used as lube before fading to black.

Christ on a Pogo stick he had REALLY gotten fucked up, didn’t he?

That said, he wouldn’t have been shocked in the slightest if he had found himself upside down, half- naked and definitely robbed of his wallet and phone in some shady alley at the crack of dawn. Yeah, that would have been normal for him.

Waking up in a plush, fancy-pants booth with a soft, comfortable quilt thrown on top of him was not.

He began leaning up to try and get some sense of where the fuck he was, but everything between his ears immediately started to bitch at him with an acute, relentless thrum that felt even worse than the headaches Moxxie gave him while bitching at him. On a good day.

He gave a low groan, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes in a sorry attempt to dull the throb. He swore everything was hurting, his horns were hurting, his scars were hurting, fuck, even his brand was hurting -

“Fudge.”

That innocent correction almost made him tumble out of the booth. He barely smacked his palms against the floor to keep him from actually falling face flat on its surface. Points for highly trained trapeze instincts. Centering himself, he found a pair of big, bright pink, and admittingly cute eyes of a little owl demon looking right at his.

Even with him being upside-down, he could tell they were a girl; maybe four or six, with a messy nest of long dark hair let loose save a small ponytail tied up on the side of her head with a scrunchie covered with moons and stars and a simple pink jumper with white stars of various sizes printed all over it.

It had taken a second for his hungover brain to figure out she was an owl, the white heart-shaped frame of her face like that of an owl’s a dead giveaway. The way she blinked at him only cemented that conclusion. She blinked calmly at him, despite how fucking weird he was sure he must’ve looked as a middle-aged, hungover, hot mess sleeping in what he just know fully realized was a restaurant booth.

Feeling caught off guard for a number of reasons, he could only respond with, “Sorry?”

The Little owl gave him a reproaching look, or at least as close to one as a toddler could manage. “‘Fudge’. You said it wrong.” She stated in all seriousness. “You’re supposed to say ‘fudge’ when you say the ‘F’ Word. Otherwise, it’s not polite.”

“Says who?” He asked.

“Says my daddy.” She said proudly as if she was referring to Lucifer himself. “He says ‘Politeness is the-” She paused, her face scrunching up in concentration, “- ‘Per-Ah-Get-Ive’ of sensible young demons’.”

He gave her a small smirk. “Oh yeah? And what is that?”

“What’s what?”

“Whatcha just said – Know what it means?”

He had expected her to respond with a "yes" as all little hellspawn do to prove they were just as smart as their parents who most of the time are dumber than the garbage man, and of course be all snooty and snobby about it too.

But, amazingly, she shook her head so much her hair flew in both directions. "Nope! But my daddy taught me that word. Which means it must be a smart grown-up thing to say. My daddy's all grown up and smart so it makes sense to try and apply it to my everyday 'Wing-guess-tics'."

"Uh, 'wing-guess-tics'?" He repeated with a smile.

The little owl nodded. "You know, the way you talk and how you sound to other people. Don't you ever take pride in how you sound towards others less proud of themselves?"

Blitzø sure as hell didn't. In fact, good mood or bad, he couldn't give two shits in a Gluttony Ring brand crapper what every other piece of shit thought about him or the way he talked. Which is exactly what he should tell to this innocent, sassy, too precious for words little oh satan's taint, he was too hungover for this.

Getting up at an old man's pace, he grunted, "I don't really have an answer to that, ow."

Okay, sitting up straight didn't quite stop the ache, but it wasn't harping so badly now.

The little owl made a sad sound. "That's too bad. Everything needs an answer."

"Does it?" He asked while once again pressing into his eyes to try and settle his headache. She gave an affirmative hum.

"They do. Sometimes."

Blitzø gave up trying to squeeze his eyeballs back into his brains and gave a slow roll of his neck, breathing with the small audible stream of cracks that followed. "Yeah, well, sometimes is better than no times I guess." Once his neck didn't feel so stiff, he looked down at the little owl who still was blinking up at him. "Hey kiddo?"

"Yes?"

"Can you, uh . . . Can you tell me where we are right now?" Geez, Blitzø, you need a little kid to tell your dumb, hungover ass where you crashed? Talk about hitting rock bottom.

She giggled like he had just told a funny joke. He admitted, even with a headache, the sound was nice to hear. "You're in our cafe, sir. Mine and Daddy's cafe. You've been here ever since last night."

He felt embarrassment collide with exasperation in a wave that only incensed the pounding in his skull. Grreeeaaat. Now he had to deal with a bitchy dad that could probably make a Karen more bearable. And considering his crappy luck, he could probably give Moxxie a run for his money when it came to whining and botching. Like he didn't have enough of a migraine already.

To distract himself from the imminent ass-chewing, Blitzø decided it was a good time as any to take a quick peek around. In case, things went tits up, he should know how much he could tag with horses and dongs later.

Look all over, he had to admit . . . He was pleasantly surprised.

The cafe was definitely a little ritzier than almost every other diner or bistro in Pride, at least the ones run by imps or sinners. It wasn't an 'in-your-face-so-suck-it-bitches' bourgeois nightmare that you found on the cover of rich people magazines, but it was still easy to smell the $oils that had been burned to buy the number of furniture and appliances that filled it. Pristine designer steel tables, floors tiles so clean you could eat off of them, cushy warm booths like the one he was sitting in that felt comfy enough to be small bed; yeah, this place made the local Hellbucks look like a gas station men's room (Which was also, coincidentally, one of the many places he would periodically wind up in after a bender).

He could probably make off with one of the tablecloths - Made with actual fucking linen, not rag or crappy burlap - And the money he would get for it would easily pay off his non-existent mortgage.

The walls, covered in perfectly intact, shiny wallpaper that was neither covered in mildew nor aged and peeling, colored the interior with a tasteful cream and vanilla striped pattern. Each dark strip of cream had subtle motifs of shooting stars, little crescent moons and cheery spiraling suns. The cushions seated on each chair and the fabrics of the booths were royal blue and spotted with muted violet stars, all differing sizes, each cleaner than the back seat of an Imp City taxi cab. Plus, no springs popping up to try and fuck him in his little red hole.

He then noticed the bar. A quaint but spacious counter as long as Blitzø's body and tail combined, a simple but pricey cash register at one end, with matching leather stools lined up perfectly beneath it. A large glass case half the size of his van sat at the other end, the inside holding shelves of numerous plates of decadent-looking desserts and pastries that drew an expectant grumble from his stomach.

It wasn't his fault, the last thing Blitzø remembered having that was even close to food was some outdated peanuts and the olives he wiped from some douche who had ordered nothing but martinis that were drier than Wraith in a heatwave.

And he normally hated olives, Christ, he must've been fucked up to devour those things, pit and all. Fuck, did I bang the guy who ordered then too?

Okay, not the priority right now, Blitzø. Especially with the cute little kid in front of you whose dad is definitely gonna throw you out on your ass the minute he sees you -

"Oh! Daddy's awake! Good morning, daddy!"

Fuck.

Blitzø jerked his head up at her cheerful greeting, opening his mouth if only to curse at how his head throbbed in response -

— Only for it to immediately die when he caught sight of "Daddy" coming into the cafe'.

Fuck him twice.

The demon that had stepped into his view was, hands down and pants down if his belt was loosened, one of the most gorgeous demons he had seen.

And the tallest, Jesus Christ.

The owl demon was as tall as a tree, with legs for days ending in jet black talons that clicked delicately against the immaculately clean tiles as he strode over. His body was much, much thinner than Blitzø had expected, delicate and lithe with sinfully svelte curves around his well-rounded hips that he felt an instant, barely concealed urge to wrap his legs around and squeeze. His upper body was just as long, lengthy frail arms that grew like willow branches from his shoulders with dainty but large hands and fingers that reminded him of spider legs as they moved and were just as dark as his feet. They were probably as soft as that little fluff of feathers that peeked out on his chest.

Looking at his face, he was slightly taken aback at the sight of not one but two pairs of eyes peering back, although the second pair were smaller and placed higher on his forehead, just as wide and bright as Via's, but instead of pink they shone with crimson and were as opaque as a ruby. It was obvious who this little girl got her looks from the most; the same dark spot at the tip of his beak, and the same shade of grey blue feathers, only his grew darker in hue as they climbed up his very lean throat, combed into a neat and very trim style that clearly was given a lot of attention. The only blemish to it would be the bold streak of grey that cut through the feathers which easily gave away his age, but somehow that had actually improved his looks as it contrasted the young (and pretty) features of his face.

His outfit wasn’t too extraordinary but still, Blitzø felt himself growing warm at the sight of the white button up dress shirt and the open cranberry pink waistcoat the owl was currently snapping shut dexterously and simple dark slacks that hugged his legs perfectly.

Fuck. I was once woken up with V wearing lingerie that was made pretty much just string but this guy is dressed like a fucking waiter and I wanna lay him flat on the counter.

Blitzø was suddenly that much more thankful for the blanket covering his lap, because he was sure feeling the telltale signs of a growing boner.

Oh well, he was sure it would go away once this guy started to whine about having to deal with a drunken piece of shit first thing in the morning -

The tall owl, even with the slightest of sleep still clinging to it, smiled warmly and brightly at his daughter. “Good morning, my Owlette.” Blitzø felt himself once again be knocked off guard by his chocolaty, silky tenor voice, the sound of it sending pleasant shivers down his spine.

Fuckhim three times, he sounded hot too. Satan, this sucked.

The owl’s pleasant chuckle only added to Blitzø;s horny chagrin. “I see you beat me down to the cafe’ today. I hope you slept well, my Starfire.”

The little “Starfire” nodded happily. “I slept good, Daddy! And so did our guest!” She gestured innocently at the imp, who then tensed at being put on the spot by a kid. “When I came down to check on him, he was snoozing like a kitten!”

Blitzø, of course, made a face. A kitten?

It went unnoticed by the little owl, but not by her father who gave her a stern, but still soft look. “Via,” He started. “You didn’t disturb our guest while he was sleeping, did you?”

“Via” quickly shook her head, he feathers swinging side to side in a flurry. “Mh-mm! No, Daddy, I promise I didn’t! I was real quiet until he woke up and said the bad thing wrong.”

He blinked at her. “The ‘bad’ word?”

“One of the words that Mummy used to -” He explanation was abruptly cut off by her father’s wincing and his hands waving the universal sign for stop. “O-oh, alright, alright, sweetie, I understand, no need to go further!”

Blitzø watched them quietly.

Huh. So pretty boy had post-marital troubles with the little former wifey, huh?

Yeah, that made sense. Aside from his friend’s, Blitzø had yet to see any marriage that wasn’t one step away to instating the “death do us part” vow.

This guy must have gotten out while the getting was still good. But not without a few licks dealt, judging by the signs of wariness on his face.

He mentally sighed. Alright the hottie daddy knows you’re here and first impression has clearly gone to shit so, get ready for take two, dumbass.

Blitzø, deciding that jokes was the way to go in a pinch, then said casually. “I guess ‘Mummy’ wasn’t a ‘fudge’ kinda girl.” He then put on his best smile as he looked straight on at the pretty owl. “Me, personally, always liked the mine with plenty of nuts.”

As smooth as it sounded, he still cringed on the inside. Oof, Blitzø, how lame do you sound right now?

However, to Blitzø’s surprise and relief, the innuendo did not go unnoticed by the only other adult in the cafe’. Both sets of eyes went wide and the haggardness on his face was instantly washed away with a swift, prominent pink flush that Blitzø definitely liked seeing. Next to Via, it was probably the cutest thing he saw this morning. It certainly took the edge off the ass-chewing he was sure to get.

Usually, anytime he cracked any sex jokes around others, he was almost immediately told off by whatever prude or asshole or Karen was in the vicinity (i.e. Moxxie) and who clearly had no sense of good humor. (Like they didn’t start humping on each other’s earlobes the second every one’s back was turned like the hypocrites they were.)

Anybody else who didn’t was either not giving two shits or just as eager to talk dirty after a line up of shots.

But this bird seem reasonably sober. But then again, judging by his frame, he was probably the type of demon to go for light drinks like martinis or cocktails rather than tequila or beezlejuice. Considering the little girl now running up to him and hugging his shins, it was more than likely. He had the bitter experience of always dealing with a parent more often found nursing a hangover rather than an infant and it was an all around shitty experience he had no wish to repeat.

However, right now, he wouldn’t mind getting another peek of that cute ass blush as the bird briefly ducked down to scoop up into his arms. “W-well,” He started, “It’s certainly good to see you awake, Mister . . . ?”

“Name’s Blitzø. The “O” is silent.” Blitzø stated without missing a beat.

The owl blinked. “What ‘o’?”

“Exactly.” Blitzø nodded without thinking and once again, groaned in pain as everything from the neck up throbbed.

“Oh dear, hangover not quite remedied yet?”

Blitzø hissed out a breath. “Yeah, that’s a big fat fff-fudgin’ no.” He smirked weakly at Via’s approving nod. “I feel like I decided to go dumpster-diving outside the nearest Sinnabon’s for a midnight snack-run.” His empty stomach than made itself known by giving an impatient grumble. “And it looks like I’m up for round two so I think it’s about time I get outta here.”

The owl blinked again. “I’m sorry?”

Blitzø carefully climbed out of his improvised bed and unsure of what to do, opted to take apart the bedding and fold it as neatly as he could. “Yeah, I know, I know, I should’ve been out of here hours ago, I get it. Satan knows no-one wants to deal with a hungover dumb-a first thing in the morning. I know I wouldn’t, plus you gotta kid here and I can’t imagine you want some strange weirdo around your baby-girl so I better clear out before -”

The quilt literally rising out of his hands cut him off like a record scratch. The fuck-?

He watched cow-eyed as some kind of blue sparkly whatsit energy surrounded the quilt and untangled the lump he had been making a mess out of. It than began folding itself in a much more professional fashion than his was and as soon as it finished, it levitated right over his head and towards the guys who, judging by the ethereal sheen wrapped around his talons, was making it.

“Mr. Blitzø,” He started calmly. “As the owner of a cafe’, I have often had ‘strange weirdos’ coming in and going out from here every day. Thankfully, most of them are courteous enough to show up around working hours, but I am no stranger to any who who wander in from the late-night crowd, which I’m assuming is where you come from.” His tone wasn’t accusing but Blitzø still frowned at the teasing lilt he definitely heard.

“As for my little Starfire,” The bird continued, nuzzling his daughter on the cheek which earned a giggle. “Via, I like to think at least, is an excellent judge of character, especially more so with strangers. So, if she thinks that you’re trustworthy then that’s more than enough reason to let you stay.” With a twirl of his talon, he sent the quilt through the door leading upstairs to, whatever the fuck it led to as he set Via down on one of the stools after a quick, dramatic spin that earned him another giggle. “At least, long enough for us to feed you a decent breakfast.”

That last bit was definitely NOT what Blitzø thought he’d hear. “Uh, excuse me?”

“Oh certainly, after you’ve been given food of actual substance to eat instead of the leftover, surely bacteria-ridden remains scrounged from a random dumpster.” The big bastard responded blithely as he made his way around the counter, to where Blitzø finally noticed the fancy-looking coffeemaker that made him feel more broke-ass than he already was. “But first, I believe refreshments are in order. Would you prefer coffee or tea?”

The asshole part of him wanted to deliver a pissy comeback at the offer. He was a grown-ass man, more than capable of getting his own food, fuck you very much and no trust-fund, (sexy) long-legged prick had the right to tell him what was okay for him to eat or not – Moxxie already got his ass enough about that, he didn’t need anyone else doing that shit.

Big bitch was probably trying to keep him here long enough to call the cops on him the minute his back was turned so he could stick him with some BS robbery charges just for shits and giggles. Which had happened to him before due to more than one nut-job Karen and/or Kevin.

And of course, since it was fucking Hell, there was only a certain amount of times that you could get arrested and get bailed out before the taxpayers think to simply say “Fuck it” and just take your money and never bother to find your cell keys.

That in mind, he was so not in the mood to bust out of prison again, that one stint in Greed was enough for the next five years.

Well, fuck this bird. The front door was right there and he was not gonna have to put up with whatever bullshit this guy was -

His stomach halted his would-be flipping-the-bird-at-the-bird-on-the-way-out escape with a rumble even louder and more impatient than before. The tell-tale smell of brewing coffee didn’t do anything to help quell it. And damn, did it smell good . . .

. . . . . . Oh, forget it, they dump that dumpster every other day and he was too hungover to spare the effort to drive. Or Look for his van. Or try to remember the name of the club he was at.

“. . . I usually have iced coffee. But right now, I’ll take a regular coffee, as black as blood.”

That request was responded to with a humored smile. “I myself usually take it black as sin, but I’m always up for a challenge.” Turning to the way too complicated than should be normal looking, coffee-making monstrosity, he also added, “Also, forgive me.”

“For what?” Blitzø asked as he came closer to the bar. This close, he could now spot a simplistic yet obviously custom-designed hotplate big enough to fit enough food for five people, flat black surface on one side and a classic stove-top on the other.

“For not introducing myself properly earlier.” A clean, see-through glass coffee pot that Blitzø didn’t even see him pull out appeared in his hand as he whipped out a coffee filter so finely made it looked more like a hankie, bypassing the coffee maker completely. “I’m Stolas, owner of this cafe’ as well as Chef and Barista. You’ve already had the pleasure of meeting my daughter, Octavia, my darling little helper.”

“Daddy says I’m his ‘Suzy Chef’!” Via, also now known as “Octavia”, chirped proudly. Before Blitzø took a seat on one of the stools, he moved as to help her up but she shook her head. Gripping the crank under the seat, she pulled it up and down like a desk chair’s until the seat was low enough for her to climb up. He watched in bemusement as she then adjusted the seat back up. Clearly, they were built with the varying heights of Hell’s diverse demographic in mind.

Not bad thinking, Blitzø had to admit.

“Indeed you are, my Owlette.” Stolas chuckled. Having placed the filter inside a clenex wrapped around a chic-looking coffee pot, he placed a silver carafe onto the stove-top side of the hotplate and flipping the switch. Taking out a bag of coffee grounds that smelled fucking fantastic. “She and I have been running this little cafe’ for about four months now. And if I may so, we’re doing rather well. Granted, we’re not millionaires but I’m certainly not complaining.”

In almost no time at all, the carafe’ started whistling sharply. Stolas took it off and replaced it with a small skillet that Blitzø didn’t see being pulled out either, only to stare unabashedly at the medley of cheeses, meats, veggies and eggs that literally flew in from the entry to what he guessed was the kitchen like it was something of out of a kid’s movie. He knew Via giggling at his face but he forgoed responding to that, as while Stolas attended to the coffee pot, a bottle of oil floated over to the skillet and poured a delicate amount inside with two slices of butter following suite. “. . . Uh, yeah, if you’re good at something, you should capitalize.”

“Perhaps, but it’s not really so much about the money as it is the business of cooking itself.” Stolas said earnestly as he dumped the grounds into the filter and sweeped up the carafe to pour in the hot water in one fluid motion. “I find that this line of work gives me much more gratification than that of my previous occupation.”

“Oh, what was that? Real estate spokesman? Attorney? Phone seee-” Blitzø was instantly reminded of Via’s presence as the little girl hummed happily while folding and unfolding a napkin she plucked from the napkin holder closest to them. “-eeecrecy operator?”

If Stolas noticed the near slip-up, he didn’t comment on it. “No, I’m afraid. Simply one of the cogs of the crumbling, over-heated machine that is known as Hell’s government.” While the skillet started to pop and sizzle, the owl than summoned a sizable knife to finely chop one onion to join the oil and butter. As the coffee grounds were left to bloom, Stolas made quite a show of crumbling up a thick sausage into bits with one hand while simultaneously conjuring an actual clutch of flames in the other hand, selecting a few strips of bacon to cook and crisp in a matter of seconds. Most likely to show off for Blitzø and his daughter who “oohed” at the sight.

Admittedly, Blitzø was a little impressed too, but he’d be fucked by a mime before he ever let on. “Geez, playin’ it up a bit, don’t ya think?”

“Perhaps a bit.” Stolas admitted, not so sorry in the slightest. “But compared to how stoic and quiet I had used to be, I relish any chance to ‘play it up’.” Having deemed the bacon thoroughly cooked, which it definitely was going by the smell, he extinguished the flames and set the crispy strips onto a cutting board for a magicked knife to chop up. Washing his hands in a small sink set by the hotplate, he gestured towards the enchanted parade of flying ingredients, allowing three eggs to gently land on the counter.

Blitzø, at this point, had taken his eyes away from the free magic show in front of him, cool as it was, to quietly observe Stolas’s shapely ass as he bent over to retrieve something from one of the lower cabinet.

Hmm. He could feel the tip of his tail flicking in appreciation. Guess the cake wasn’t only in good in the cases.

He tried to keep ogling as unnoticeable as possible as he asked. “Old job sucked that bad, huh?”

“Oh, abominably so.” Stolas groaned as he fished around in the cabinet obliviously. Eventually, he made a small sound of triumph as he located his prize; a small mixing bowl which he then set on the counter next to the eggs. A crooked finger brought a whisk right into his hand just as all three eggs were lifted and cracked into the bowl and the shells were tossed away. “And all I can say is that I’m bloody well glad that it’s behind me.”

“And now Daddy gets to be the bestest chef in all of Hell!” Via proclaimed, which was rewarded with a loving smile.

“Well, I certainly try my best.” He said cheerfully. He made sure to keep close attention to the carafe’ as it poured more water into the now ready coffee grounds as he beat the eggs thoroughly. As dark, fresh coffee began to drip into the pot, he set the bowl aside to neatly dish the sausage and bacon into the skillet. “I don’t know if anything I make will win any awards, but I wouldn’t mind if they didn’t. As long as I have my Via and this cafe’, I’ll be happy.”

Those words, despite himself, left a deep pit in Blitzø’s stomach.

He was all too familiar with the feeling to know that it wasn’t hunger.

And the cause of it was the warm translucent air wafting around in the little cafe’ that was more potent than the coffee.

And more pointedly, how out of place he felt to even be watching it.

He felt his claws clench the leather of his seat, the fabric creaking softly in response to his tightening grip. The pit felt like it was growing larger, making his shoulders tense. He found himself staring full-on at the clean surface of the bartop and tried to ignore the itch of his spines going erect. For the next few minutes, all that was heard was the sizzling and firecracker-like popping of the skillet as the eggs were poured in, the repetitive sound of coffee dripping and Via humming as she tried to fold her napkin into something other than a lopsided square.

Blitzø took a deep breath through his nose, his lips sputtering a bit like a horse’s (Didn’t he wish) as he exhaled.

“. . . Look, I’m . . . ” He paused a moment to think his words over carefully. The last thing he felt like doing right now was to sound an utter dickhead to the guy who was making him a hot meal for a total stranger.

No telling if he was the type to spit in on the plates of assholes who deserved it.

“. . . I’m sorry for, uhm, for having you make deal with me first thing in the morning.” He managed to get out rather lamely.

He wasn’t sure if the bird heard him. But that didn’t stop him from continuing. “I . . . I had a really, really real sh- crappy day yesterday, and – And I just needed to blow off a little steam.”

Images started to flash unbidden in his head. Of zeroes, of bottles, of bitter looks and smashed frames only made everything in Blitzø had been able to blissfully ignore up until that moment, then chose to rear its ugly head making him let out a barely concealed grunt. “. . . Point is, I-I’m sorry for screwing up your day and -”

He was interrupted by a good-sized mug being set calmly before him. He started as the smell of the dark roast curling in soft puffs and into his nostrils, the scent heavenly and already mending the throb of his head – only to be taken aback at the feel of a large, plush-soft hand petting the space between his horns in a comforting rub.

It took every single inch of Blitzø not to either smack the hand away or bite it off on sheer impulse.

He looked up and instead of what he thought for damn sure was going to be a patronizing sneer, – Because how else would any prick look after patting an imp’s head like a puppy’s? - Stolas’s face was as soft and reassuring as the smile on his beak.

A smile filled with nothing but understanding and warmth.

Sweet Lucifer, when was the last tim anyone had smiled at him like that?

“No apologies are need here, Mister Blitzø.” Stolas said simply. No hint of bullshit. “Nothing’s been broken, nothing’s been ruined. So please, don’t worry. I’m not a demon so easily rattled. Especially by lovely surprises such as yourself.”

. . . . Blitzø blamed the warmth he felt tingling on his cheeks on the steam coming from the mug.

Stolas didn’t comment on it, but he was sure that he heard some not very subtle amusement in his voice as he turned back to his cooking. “Would you like for me to add some peppers to dish? They were freshly picked this morning and I’m sure that they’ll taste wonderfully with the eggs.”

“UH-” Blitzø grabbed the mug and pretended to study it to keep himself from doing anything else dumb. “Y-yeah, sure, whatever, go nuts. I’m good with whatever.”

“Marvelous! I’ll add some as soon as the eggs have cooked for a bit.” Stolas said cheerfully. Blitzø muttered a “yeah, whatever” to his back as the owl reached from some green and red peppers big enough for Via to hold in both of her hands. He then made a small hoot that Blitzø, even with how off-kilter he felt at the moment, found cute. “Oh, and let me know how the coffee is, please. I’m trying a new blend I finally managed to put together a few days ago and I’d love to hear your opinion.”

Blitzø blinked at that. “Wha-? You mean this isn’t instant?”

Stolas shook his head. “Oh no. I try my best to use fresh items whenever I cook. Not that I have anything against instant or frozen food, but, as a chef, I find it almost like cheating if I’m not as authentic for my customers. The last thing I want is to have our cafe’ be mistaken for another Twink Trip or Hexxan.”

Blitzø would have taken a shot at that remark. Namely how if you loaded up gas station coffee with a fuckton of sugar, cream, and booze, it didn’t matter about the quality ‘cause who would give that much of a damn about dirty bean water -

That is, had he not taken a sip out of his mug.

It took a moment of peering down at his “coffee” to think up a much more direct response. “. . . . This is the best damn cup of coffee I ever had.”

“Thank you!” Stolas accepted the compliment cheerily. I admit it took much longer to properly cultivate and grow the beans for it than I had originally anticipated. I mean, I already knew the process was intricate but it’s a whole other experience when you actually attempt it yourself.” Stolas gave a weak chuckle as he prodded at the eggs simmering in the skillet. “I’ve lost count of the amount of times I almost blew up my grinder or ruined my insides.”

Blitzø, taking a much larger sip of his coffee hummed appreciatively. “Yeah, bad coffee can f- trip you up.” He knew that to be true. He once had to get his stomach pumped from drinking brew made by some dumbshit in his RV. That experience wasn’t really as painful as the telling-off Moxxie gave him afterwards. Little bitch always had act like he was right.

He took another big gulp. “You did good, though. Five stars.”

It wasn’t blind praise. Blitzø never bullshitted how he felt about what he drank and ate, (Much to Moxxie’s, Fizz’s, his Sunday Barista or, really, anyone’s annoyance) and the coffee was no exception; heavy and crisp with a balanced pairing of earthy and floral notes, the acidity like berries that left plenty of room for flavor instead of just tang. And the aftertaste didn’t linger like secondhand smoke, it left gradually with a mellow sheen that he didn’t mind in the slightest. Even though he was more an iced coffee guy, this was a kind of coffee Blitzø could see himself drinking again. When he wasn’t hungover, that is.

“Well, I’m thrilled to hear that, Mister Blitzø. Thank you.” Stolas responded gratefully.

By now, he had placed a lid over the eggs to let them simmer which allowed him to focus on chopping up the peppers. The imp assumed that had all he had been cutting up before Stolas turned to delicately slide a plate baring an apple that had been sliced in a way that the core stood erect as a tower with the slices spread open like a flower bloom. Before he can ask how the hell he did that so fast, Via chirped happily before plucking one slice and biting into it with a thank you.

Blitzø found her delight over the piece of fruit adorable, which the baby owl took as an invitation to pluck another slice and offer it to him with a smile. Satan, could this kid get any cuter?

He took the offered slice with a cheeky grin. Only to quickly toss it in the air and catch it with his tongue like an iguana’s, adding a “Bleh!” just for laughs, for which he earned a round of giggles from Via. He had almost missed by being blindsided by the cinnamon and spice flavor that had been baked into it. It had to have been made that very morning if the warmth and freshness of the slice was anything to go by, allowing the fruit to melt orgasmically well into his taste-buds. Wow.

He and Via had had unanimously agreed to split the apple between them, with no objections from Stolas as he busied himself with divvying up the vegetables and summoning other ingredients from the kitchen to prepare accordingly. Via filled up most of the time with chattering on innocently about little things, how funny her dream was last night, how home-school was “five times better than private school as there were less big dummy poop-heads” - Blitzø almost choked on a slice while Stolas lightly admonished her about “language” - And how her daddy once made her the bestest cake ever in the in the whole wide world for her fifth birthday. Blitzø, for as sweet as he found her daughterly praise, had to swallow the gag when she started going on about the “tasty” mouse chunks Stolas had added.

Bird or no, eating mice for Blitzø was a flat out no.

A sudden, horrifying though than popped into his head. Was Stolas going to add mice to his food?

Like mouse sausage? Mice bacon? Rat peppers? Was that a thing?! Or was he just pulling a Moxxie and asking dumbass question?

. . . Probably just being a Moxxie.

His internal debate was cut short by something else being set before him. A damn good-looking something.

An omelet the size of Blitzø’s fist lay before him, hot and steaming and straight from the hot plate. Yellow as can be with spots of golden brown, there were no signs of tears of breakage, with a perfect fluffy layer peeking from the folds stuffed with meat, veggies and oozing cheeses. The artsy fucker had even gone the extra mile and draped the top of it with a thin sheet of mozzarella, some garnish and a couple slices of baby tomatoes. Talk about extra.

“There you are, this morning’s special - ‘Egg On Your Face’ Mega-Omelet, with all the fixings and extra cheese for those unwelcome aches and pains. If I’ve done my job right, it should fix you right up.”

“Like magic!” Via dded with a bright smile. Both men chuckled at her.

“Like magic, huh?” Blitzø smirked. Well, I’ll just have to see about that.

Sure, the eggs may have looked good, but Blitzø had learned all too well that food looking good and tasting good were two totally different things.

What looked like a pile of slop to the naked eye could taste just as good as a five morning star meal served Beelzebub herself. The same thing applied to a plate of fancy finger foods that cost the same as a house mortgage but tasted like cardboard in the end. And Blitzø certainly had more than enough exposure to lousy food like that, thank you and fuck you very much, with no wish to repeat it.

Which he hoped he wouldn’t with this monster-omelet before him.

Deciding not to put it off any longer, he picked up his fork and dug the prongs into the soft-cooked eggs, scooping up a decent-sized bite with plenty of pepper, meat and cheese. After a moment’s consideration, he also speared one of the baby tomato slices. He gave the loaded fork a few blows to cool it, because there was no way he was going to down a maybe-shitty breakfast with a burnt tongue.

He stuck the fork in his mouth -

And his mind was BLOWN.

If there was such a thing as a bit of paradise, than these eggs were the mother fucking proof in the pudding. Or omelet, in this case.

The eggs were cooked to perfection; nice and fluffy to where they melt on in his mouth like luscious chocolate from Lust’s first class bakeries. And the flavor was like a parade in his mouth, from the salty onions, the crisp tomato and the sweet peppers, the numerous flavors sucker-punched his sense of taste without overwhelming the presence of the eggs. The meat inside was spectacular too, the bacon was at the optimum point between chewy and crispy, and the sausage was deliciously flavorful and greasy. His kind of meat, with the right amount of salt and black pepper.

He could barely hold down the pleasurable moan, but did nothing to stop all the muscles in his body from going lax.

Man, fuck trying to go to heaven, the key to fucking Eden’s Gate was right in his head hole.

A bemused coo. “So I take it you like it?”

Blitzø taste-jizzed mind abruptly snapped back into focus. Stolas’s beak was curled into a big, smug-ass grin that made his own fault in to a frown. The owl simply looked at him expectant. Dammit, if the kid weren’t here, he would have gladly told the bird exactly where to shove that grin.

Instead, he gave a disgruntled growl. “Yea, it’s . . . okay.”

Most chefs would have promptly gotten offended by such a dry appraisal of their “masterpieces”, especially if it came from an “uncultured swine” such as him.

But once again, Stolas surprised him by delivering a pleased smile in lieu of a hissy fit. “Well, I’m glad you like it. Eat up now, or it’ll get cold.”

Blitzø chose not to shoot off a shitty comeback, despite being rankled by the “order”. He took out his bubbling frustrations out on his food, picking up the plate and bringing it close enough to begin shoveling the omelet into his mouth like a starving man.

The petty, spiteful gremlin that was roughly, meeeh, ninety percent of his overall personality hoped that such a messy personality hoped that such a messy display would earn at least, would earn a groan of disgust. Always did the trick when he wanted to annoy Moxxie.

However, much to Blitzø’s complete consternation, the owl just gave a small humored hoot and returned to the hotplate with a single crack or insult. Like he didn’t give two shits about his bad manners.

Blitzø internally growled. What an ASS.

. . . A pretty ass, but still.

“I’m glad you’re pleased by my cooking skills.” The big bastard (Yes, Blitzø was calling him that again, suck it.) said happily, busying by wiping down the skillet while beating a new batch of eggs and sliding two slices of bread into a small old-fashioned toaster. “I have to admit, my main specialty is baking and drinks, but I try my best to expand my range of cuisine when I can.”

Once the yolks and whites were thoroughly whipped, there were poured into the skillet and almost immediately they started to sizzle and bubble from the rewarmed metal. “Unfortunately, I can’t cook the kind of food necessary to run a full-fledged cafe’.”

Blitzø swallowed a sizable bite of egg and pepper before asking, “Can’t you just wiggle your fingers and hocus pocus a steak or something?”

Stolas shook his head. “Alas that’s more Lady Beelzebub’s forte than mine. Even my magic can only do so much. Now if this was a flower shop that would be another matter, but it is what it is.”

“I’m glad it isn’t.” Via piped up. “I love Daddy’s cafe’! And I love helping him cook!”

“And you do such a magnificent job, my Owlette.” Stolas’s praise was followed by a small plate of scrambled eggs encircled by toast cut into the shape of flowers and mice, covered in butter and jam. Via took it with a bright thanks, digging in right away with a sparkly pink fork also provided by Stolas. “But sadly, a cafe’ needs more than peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and milk to cater to wider clientele. Not that I’m downplaying your talent as a chef, darling.”

“I’s okay, Daddy.” Via said, crumbs dotted on her beak from biting into one of her toast flowers. “I know it’s only because I’m not big enough to use the stove yet.” Blitzø mirrored her smile as she beamed up at him. “Once I can do that, Daddy said I could make even better dishes just like him.”

“Indeed I will, Starfire.” Stolas affirmed. “But for now, I’ll have to settle for looking for another cook. Sadly though -” Stolas pulled a face. “- There hasn’t been one suitable enough to help me run things here.”

“Yeah, it’s hard running the show solo.” Blitzø agreed. “Sucks even more when you don’t have a good crew to back you up. Don’t know where I’d be with M&M.”

Stolas blinked. “Uhm, ‘M&M’?”

Via blinked too. “Like the candy?”

Blitzø snickered. “Nah, Moxxie and Millie, friends of mine and my emplo-” He cut himself off with a grimace. “Well. Who were supposed to be my employees.”

The sudden downtrodden shift that overcame the imp id not go unnoticed by Stolas. “‘Supposed to be?’ What does that -”

“Don’t ask.” Blitzø said curtly. After a second, he added a little less harshly. “I-I don’t really wanna get into it right now.”

Because if I do, I KNOW I’m just going to get pissed off and do something shitty all over again.

“. . . . Alright then.”

Blitzø could hear it clear as day that the bird bastard had more questions, and would more than likely prefer to bombard him with rapid-fire questions like Moxxie would when he wanted to be particularly annoying. But thank Satan, he looked put off enough to put him off.

Small blessings.

The next few minutes passed in silence. The lull of it broken only by the sounds of silverware hitting the plates as Blitzø and Via ate, the drip of coffee as more was brewed in the pot and the subdued sounds of crunching each time either a somewhat concerned Via offered Blitzø a bite of her toast or, returning the favor, when he offered her a bite of bacon or sausage – He learned quick that she didn’t like peppers so much so he did well to avoid giving her any filled-to-the-brim bites. He could only hoped that the reason she liked it wasn’t because the meat that was in it wasn’t made from rodent.

It probably was, though, because . . . Birds.

Eventually, Blitzø had cleaned his plate, a satisfying weight settling in his stomach, he let out a contented sigh, his headache feeling miles better than almost a half hour before. “Woo, that was good. A frickin’ plus.”

The owl’s smiled chased away some of the terseness from before. “Happy to hear it. It’s always good to get good reviews on new dishes.”

“Yeah, I’ll bet. Quick question, though.”

“Yes?”

Blitzø pointed at the now empty plate. “Level with me – Was there any mice in that? Because, I get it, you and Via are birds, but I kinda draw the line when it comes to eating plague-carrying little turds.”

Stolas tittered at that. “No, no, I assure you, no lovely vermin of any kind was served to you. Unfortunately, I’ve learned that mice are terrible cures for hangovers.”

“What’s a hangover?” Via asked in that no-filter, childishly clueless way that all little hellspawn did.

Stolas, in a perfectly natural response to such a question, was freeze awkwardly. “O-oh, well, erm-”

Blitzø supplied the answer. “It’s like a really bad stomach bug, but for grown-ups.” Giving the little owl a conspiratorial grin, he added in a fake whisper, “Basically, if you eat too much green stuff, your poop comes out greener than Mammon’s butt.”

Via burst into a peal of little girl laughter that definitely brought an easy diffusion to Stolas’s unease, even earning a couple of barely smothered hoots that were poorly hidden by his hand.

Huh. That was twist.

Usually the parents were scolding him at this point, the usual uptight bullshit spiel about “using such vulgar language in front of their innocent little babies, you demented little firetoad!”

Not that he gave a shit because he was a comic genius, fuckyou, Moxxie.

After a bit, both birds managed to quell their laughter enough for Stolas to gently urge Via to head upstairs and get ready for the day. She agreed without protest, stopping only to allow Blitzø to ruffle her headfeathers as he added, “Gotta look cute for the suckers!” That earned him an admonishing look from Stolas that was weakened by his approving smile.

A smile that only grew bigger when Via caught the imp completely off-guard with an unexpected hug, her tiny arms wrapping swiftly and tightly around his waist, almost sending him falling off his stool. Before he could recover, Via was already heading up the staircase, humming cheerfully all the way.

Stolas’s soft chuckle drew Blitzø out of his shock. “Via has certainly taken a liking to you quickly.”

“Uh, yeah, I-I guess.” Blitzø rubbed at the back of his neck. “Last time I got hugged like that, some piece of shit nicked my wallet to buy thirty Bruiser King gift cards.”

“Oh, that’s a pity.”

“Joke was on him, though, he got food poisoning with the first card he used.”

Stolas hummed approvingly as he poured them both a fresh cup of coffee. “Well, I suppose there is such a thing as karma.”

Blitzø barked out a laugh. “Ha! Yeah, and maybe there’s a God.” He accepted the refilled mug, along with the offered sugar and creamers, and dumped almost each one in like an alcoholic adding liqueur. “Uh, speakin’ of, what do I owe ya?”

Stolas, who had added his own preferred condiments to his coffee in much more moderate manner, paused in his blowing at the steam rising from his mug. “Pardon?”

“What do I owe ya? For the food and coffee.” After a moment, he also added with only a tiny wince of guilt. “And whatever else my drunk ass did to your place before I blacked out.”

By emotionally-traumatized principle, he wouldn’t have asked outright. Often times, being the victim of a classist system that shat on those on the bottom rung, he had been subjected to grossly padded bills and unexpected expenses issued by a good percentage of the “well-to-do” owners of “upstanding establishments” where he wound up spending half the night washing up dishes. Once he got fast enough, and only if neither the food nor the service was worth the lightening of his wallet. Blitzø didn’t hesitate to pull a dine and dash; making escapes either through the bathroom window, the vent, or once through riding one of those fancy dining carts into the kitchen and out the employee entrance that admittingly had been fun to ride . . .

. . . Right up until he learned too late that the entrance opened right up to a three-story staircase with no handrail.

Needless to say, that had been one shitty ride to the hospital, Moxxie lecturing him the whole damn eight miles.

After everything – And he meant everything – in his lower body healed, he opted to hold out on anymore dashing. At least until the little baby-dick whineypuss would get off his fucking back about paying.

That aside, he saw no reason to be the deadbeat bun right now. Not when Stolas had been nothing but polite towards him. Even though he certainly didn’t deserve such kindness . . .

He braced himself for the amount as he took a long sip of his sweetened coffee -

“Oh, you needn’t worry – You don’t owe me a sint.”

Blitzø sputtered into his mug, nearly choking on the brew as he processed the owl’s words. “*Cough* *Cough* *Hack* Blegh! Excuse me?”

“You don’t need to pay me.” Stolas restated. “Like I said, you’ve done nothing wrong. You’ve been nothing but civil, you are obviously sorry for any offense you think you’ve given – Not that you have, don’t make that face – And more importantly, Via likes you. So I see no reason to change you.”

Blitzø frowned at him. “You’re screwing with me.” He stated flatly.

“I assure you, I am not. Honestly, your praise over your breakfast was payment enough. In all honesty, you were doing me a favor.”

“Meaning?”

“I don’t get a chance to try out new recipes on new faces very often, so any new opinions are always appreciated.” Blitzø felt his face fault at the slow, awfully sensual smile the owl sent him. “Especially ones as sublime as yours.”

Blitzø forgoed looking him in the eye, each cerise eye of his hooded and looking at him like he was going to be the next dish for him to devour, choosing instead to chug down half the contents of his mug. Gulping audibly, he mumbled back, “Glad I was such a good guinea pig for you.”

“I prefer the term ‘freelanced taste-taster’, personally.” Stolas retorted politely.

“I don’t want your charity.” Blitzø bit at him.

“Nor am I giving it to you. Like I said, you did me a favor.”

“How do you know I’m not some thieving bastard taking adventure of goody-two-shoes shop owners like you?”

“I have measures set to prevent such an occurrence.”

“I’m an undercover health inspector and you just failed.”

“Now you’re just grasping, dear.”

Blitzø rubbed a hand over his face. “You can’t just -” He let out a frustrated breath. “Look, I get you’re an . . . Okay guy and you are obviously trying to set a good example for your kid. I get that, but I don’t want to be the lasting impression of what to expect when giving out freebies to poor drunken bitches like me. No one should have to deal with that without getting paid, -”

“Mister Blitzø.”

Stolas’s firm tone stopped him with the sharpness of a smacked ruler. His face was stern, but not completely harsh as he eyes were looking at him with a softness that pricked at his chest.

“You. Do. Not. Me. Anything. And when I say something like that, it’s because I mean it with all the sincerity that is implied. It is not just for the sake of looking good in front of Via and certainly not some sort of dastardly ruse to get you to lower your guard. You’ve apologized and you meant it, you’ve been kind towards my daughter and enjoyed my cooking without bias or sarcasm. That said, believe me when I tell that is something I care for much more than any check or bill.”

Stolas sipped at his coffee calmly, making no comment about the for certain mollified expression on his face. “So, please, no more apologies. They are appreciated, but to be honest, after twenty-two of them, it just feels repetitive.”

Blitzø gave him a look. “Sorry what now?”

“Mister Blitzø -”

“Nah, nah, what you just said, the fuck you mean I said sorry twenty-two times?”

Stolas’s beak dropped into a thin line, taking a moment to maybe think his words over before formulating a response, “When Via and I found you last night, you were in a . . . A great deal of distress.” He was clearly trying to more emphatic than judgmental. “You were greatly intoxicated and horridly incoherent. Once I was close enough, all I could hear was you saying sorry over and over.”

Blitzø could feel himself growing hot from the neck up in embarrassment. The apprehensive caution in Stolas’s voice was doing fuck all to help the crashing wave of shame following up like a speeding train.

He didn’t need Stolas to tell him what he was bawling like a baby over.

But, ever the bottom bitch for punishment, asked anyway. “. . . I say what for?”

Stolas then turned sheepish. “O-Oh well, uh-uhm, I don’t quite recall -”

“Bird, I don’t do any of that hee-haw Shit, it’s too early and I’m still hungover and all I’m gonna do is get pissed off now WHAT did I SAY?”

With two sets of eyes, it was easy to see that Blitzø was not going to give up on getting an answer. Stolas sighed softly.

“You made a great deal of apologies to a great deal of people. I didn’t catch every name but, erm, you had quite the list.” He sipped at his mug, stalling for only a minute before continuing.

“You apologized to a miss Mistly for dinging her car door while trying parallel park by a Wacdonald’s, a miss Queen for breaking smashing her one of a kind pirate ship in a bottle instead of the pinata by accident on her birthday, a miss Millie for chipping her favorite ax, a mister Moxxie for making him run all the way to Greed for a single battery for your TV remote, dropping his guitar fourteen times, borrowing his wallet, or more accurately, pinching his wallet to pay for Voxflix twice, a miss Barbie for stealing one of her skirts and ripping it whilst performing a split, I couldn’t really make out what exactly you were apologizing to a “Vee” and a “Fizz” for -”

“Okay!” Blitzø blurted out. “Okay! I get it! I get it! I was a hot mess, no more shit needed, I got it!” He cringed at the indignant crack in his voice. Christ, like he didn’t look enough like a pathetic shit already. He might as well plan to fake his own death again.

You know what they say, fifth time’s the charm.

“It wasn’t that bad.” Stolas’s weak attempt to reassure him only bounced off of the imp like a ping-pong ball. “It really wasn’t. Really, you should have seen me afterwards when I was binge-drinking.”

Blitzø scoffed. “Yeah, yeah, I’m sure you got real frisky from all those white wine spritzers.”

“Actually, I tended to lean more towards absinthe.” Stolas retorted, with no little bit of sass, taking a small bit of gratification from Blitzø’s surprised. “Of course, with how I was knocking back each bottle, you’d almost believe they were Purgerade drinks.”

Blitzø lifted his head from where he had been pressing it into the bartop. “Damn, how many we talkin’?”

“At least two to three on a good night, or whatever was close to that.”

The imp gave a low whistle. “”Fuck me, bird. I get shit-faced after half a bottle, how the fuck are you still standing?”

“At this point, stubbornness and sheer dumb luck, I believe.” Stolas quipped.

That startled enough mirth in Blitzø to actually make him laugh. “Join the club, pal.”

“I fear I cannot, as I have cut back my vigorous drinking to properly attend to Octavia. Leaving my former occupation did wonders for helping me cub the habit.”

“Bosses sucked that bad, huh?”

“Doubly so, considering it was a family business, sort to speak, although, I can assure they were family in name only.”

“Ugh. Preachin’ to the fuckin’ choir – there’s only so much shitty family a bitch could take in one day.”

“That, Mister Blitzø, I can wholeheartedly agree on.”

There were getting off-track. Blitzø bit his lip. “. . . I’m sorry for my shit.”

“For the final time, no more apologizes are necessary.”

He angled his head towards the staircase door. “I probably scared your kid.”

“Via has seen far worse, I assure you. Even when off your cups, you weren’t untoward her in any way, so you can save any of the claims of indecency that you’ve half-heartedly concocted in that crafty little mind of yours.”

“Just let me fuckin’ pay you.”

“I neither require nor want your money and I promise you, should you try to force any $ouls on me, I will promptly set it to aflame.”

“Lilith’s titties, you’re a stubborn bitch.”

“And you are an equally stubborn spendthrift.”

“Fuck you.”

“Not without dinner, if you please.”

Blitzø groaned. “God, we’re gonna keep talking in circles if you don’t just charge me and get it over with. I’m not fucking broke, I have the $ouls, just let me pay you.”

Stolas’s counter remark definitely caught Blitzø unawares. “It’s been a long time since anyone’s done something genuinely kind for you, hasn’t it?”

Blitzø’s hackles rose instantly at the “innocent” statement. “You trying to say something?”

Stolas merely sipped at his coffee. “Just an assessment.”

“Or you being a dickhead.”

“I made you a free breakfast for which I expect nothing in return. I am being absolutely forthright whereas you are choosing not to believe that I have no ulterior motives. Who, might I ask, is being the dickhead here?”

Oh, this smug bitch.

He had wanted to let loose a snarl that would make the owl falter in his not requested charity streak. He felt the urge already rising in his throat, ready to finally tell off this prick who was seriously starting to piss him off . . .

. . . But could only let out a low whine at the exhaustion of prolonging the one-sided argument, the fatigue of a bad night, getting totally smashed and crashing just as hard setting in. Being still half hungover sure as shit was not helping to keep the spark of pride burning.

If anything, Blitzø felt even more tired.

He wanted nothing more than to lay everything out, pay whatever the fucking bird deserved and drag his broke-back ass back home and lick his wounds from last night. And the only thing that was stopping him was getting through to this royally stubborn and feathery (Not to mention pretty soft-looking) bastard of a demon.

“Alright, look – I want to pay you back, but for some weird ass reason, you won’t let me.”

“I think we have perfectly established that.”

“So we got a problem.”

“Which could be solved by you accepting my putting your breakfast on the house.”

“And it should be clear as fuck that ain’t happening.”

“So I’ve gathered.”

Blitzø blew a breath of air out of his nose. “I’m not just being an asshole here – I don’t like owing people anything. I’ve been dipping in and out of debts for years, financial and personal. And just that fucking recently I finally managed to pay off a good chunk of them only to literally be screwed over again almost the same fucking day. So now I’m once again edging too damn close to bankruptcy for my liking.”

He gave the owl a flat look. “Meaning I can’t take any chances, such as freebies or random handouts, cuz Charity was just as easily turn into high-interest loans with zero time frames for return payments, unless you want to set up an installment plan that involves cutting out pounds of flesh ever week. Obviously, a guy like me can’t afford to look any more fucked up than he is with a chunk of anything missing.

“All that said, do you see what I’m gettin’ at?”

“. . . . I’m starting to.” Stolas said with a considerate look.

“Satisfaction eased through Blitzø’s frame. “Great. Glad we finally got that -”

“All the same, you needn’t pay me.”

And just like that it was gone.

He growled so sharply it would have destroyed eardrums had he done it inside of headphone speakers. “You fuckin’-”

“But since you won’t accept the gesture,” Stolas interrupted calmly. “How about just doing me a special favor?”

“‘Special favor’?” Blitzø blinked. “What kinda -”

A sound not unlike a light bulb dinged in his thank full-no-longer-as-sore cranium.

Oh.

Oh okay.

He gave a resigned sigh. “Hooookay, look, tootsie hootsie, if you just wanted a quick shag in the back all you had to do was ask. But I gotta warn ya, the place I’ve fucked in was a public bathroom that probably wasn’t cleaned in the last year or two, so I’ll probably need to wipe down the goods with something. Baby wipes would be good if got’em -”

“NO!” A spluttered hoot brought his attention back to Stolas, whose heart-shaped features had turned an almost violent shade of crimson in the span of half a minute. “No! No, no! Not that kind of favor, no! I mean I need your mouth!”

Blitzø gave him a deadpan look. “Yeah, I got that much, relax.”

“No! No! I mean -” Stolas let out a shaky warble before planting his face into his hands while muttering to himself in fit of bashfulness.

Blitzø just sipped at his coffee, waiting for him to spit whatever he wanted to say out. To his credit, he didn’t stare, knowing from his own share of verbal vomiting moments that doing that would just make his embarrassment worse.

Even though he no clue what the fuck he was suddenly so damn worked up about.

I mean, fuck, if I had a sint for each time I said the “wrong” things, I’d be raking in more money more green than Mammon.

A deep breath. “Forgive me, I’m doing this all wrong. I’m trying to offer you a deal. Something, I hope, will mutually beneficial to the both of us.”

The incredulous look on Blitzø’s face was quickly addressed. “Nothing vulgar or dramatic involved, you needn’t worry. Nothing of the sort.” He took another deep breath. “I would like for to come in again, and try my cooking.”

. . . . . . . . . . . . .

“Say what now?”

Stolas made a small noise of exasperation. “As I said, I’m still relatively new to running a business dealing with dining and catering and the like. I’m often pushed into having to spontaneously expand my range of techniques and specialties depending on my success. I know I’m capable, but I know that I can’t just rely on my own opinion and preferences alone. Even more so when I’m attempting new dishes. As such, I need an outside opinion.”

The imp blinked. “And yooouuu think that’s me?”

Stolas nodded. “Very much so.”

“Some fucking rando off the street who broke into your private property, was wasted out of his mind and could just as easily rob you blind despite these so-called ‘measures’ you said you have?”

“Not as ‘so-called’ as you say, but yes.”

“Rrrright.” Blitzø rolled his eyes. “Don’tcha have, I dunno other foodie friends, you can ask? Or maybe just wait for some famous food blogger critic douchebag to to come in and give you a rating?”

“None that would trust to be fair or take seriously, or assume my want for approval is really a want for cheap compliments – that I’m desperate enough to give someone license to either be obnoxiously petty or to deliver the best shallow review that procures them a not so low-key invitation to my bedroom.”

Blitzø grunted. “Asshats.”

“You should see how quickly they recoil as soon as they learn of Via.”

“Fuckin’ asshats.”

“Quite.” Stolas affirmed. “And to answer your other question, yes, I do have others whose say I do value, but I’ve heard relying on the biased does not help one’s credibility. I do appreciate the precious few whom I’m fortunate enough to have as friends, but I need a healthy dose of honesty from outside sources to provoke me to experiment and expand myself.”

“And you think that guy is me?” Blitzø repeated, gesturing to himself crudely.

“Of course.”

“Bullshit.”

“Good gracious, and you call me stubborn.”

“It’s not -” He let out a small snarl.

Seriously? He was still keeping this up? Enough was enough.

“Look, I get you’re trying to be nice, I get that. But, trust me, I’m the last fucking guy you want to be nice to let alone have around. Seriously, ask fucking anyone in hearing distance – I’m a right bastard on a good day and a pushy dickhead on a bad one, I’ve fucked up more people than I’ve actually helped and you would have more sense to shoot me rather than invite me over again. I mean, you gotta kid to think about, and -”

Blitzø shook his head. “And you don’t want me messin’ with your business. The one I tried starting flopped before I even got my feet off the ground. Pretty sure that speaks a fuckton for how helpful I can be towards you.”

He could barely ignore the burning sting of truth in that statement.

Saying all the shit that was a constant boiling inside him all out loud sucked.

It sucked balls.

He knew it was better than letting it all rot and fester like he let everything else – But it still sucked.

Fuck what his therapist said about it being being cathartic. He should quit that bitch.

It’s not like he would be able to pay them for much longer anyway.

Blitzø knew he was not the kind of person to be asked to come back. Even the scraps of friends he had managed to hang on to could barely wait for him to leave as soon as he said hello.

Moxxie was the leading example of proving him right. Even when Blitzø actually adhered to his demands of privacy and properly asking for invites to visit, (That Blitzø still found completely anal of him although he bit his lip) Moxxie was adamant to get him out the door before he could even get two fucks in.

Even Millie, Moxxie’s blast and a half of a wife, who was far more accommodating than her whore-back husband, drew the line when it came to his company being longer than necessary.

That was to say fucking nothing about his own flesh and blood.

Barbie Wire, his twin sister, his other half, would sooner see him six feet under before seeing him again.

Cash Buckzo, his father, never asked for him, never wanted him, and made it a point of telling him so straight to his face more than once.

His mother, . . . . . . . . . . . . . . She sure as fuck would have been better off without him.

And his exes? Those who he didn’t remember or couldn’t care to remember, those he never took a chance on because of him being too much of a pussy to try?”

Verosika? It was pretty fucking clear on how that went.

Fizz?

He was never wanted.

He was never missed.

He was never asked to come back.

Not for a visit.

Not for a drink.

Never just to hang and shoot the shit.

He was always tossed away as soon as necessary.

He was always left behind, pushed aside, shoved into the background.

Forgotten.

Dead for all those concerned.

Dead, except in the way he wanted when he was at the lowest he could be.

No one ever missed him.

No one ever wanted him back.

Nobody.

“. . . . I fuck things up more often than I get them right. There’s a pretty good chance if you get involved with me, shit’s gonna go sideways for you too.”

He wasn’t sure if he had muttered that part aloud or not. Not that he gave a shit.

He halfway expected to be asked to repeat himself.

Or maybe Stolas would curse him under his breath for being such a dramatic bitch.

Maybe he would finally cut the bullshit and be real about what the fuck that he really wanted from him.

However, all Blitzø got in response, was a soft touch at his wrist, soft as silk and just as gentle.

Along with two sets of big cerise rose eyes that crinkled gently at the corners as they held his gaze with calmness and sympathy.

And maybe something else, but that could’ve been that whiny, fractured part of himself making up what wasn’t actually there.

“I’ve taken far riskier gambles than trusting a stranger out of the blue, Mister Blitzø.” Stolas spoke in such a comforting voice. “And I have yet to lose from any of them. Perhaps it’s rather cocky to say so, but since my winning streak has yet to be broken, I think you’re a rather good bet to take a chance on.”

The tender smile, that was nothing short of dazzling, he gave Blitzø at the end such a declaration was a damn good seller.

Satan forbid this man ever works for Vox – cause with that smile, he could sell gas station keys like they were the keys to gates of Eden itself. I mean, if his touch alone could send sparks up my arm like he was doing right now. . .

Fuck him if he knew.

The hand causing such a feeling than gave two soft pats to his wrist before lifting away to grab the coffee pot once more, refilling Blitzø’s mug with still steaming java and the exact number of sugars and creams he had diluted it with before.

“So, how does coming in twice, three times a week sound? I usually close the cafe’ around seven since I try to get Octavia in bed by eight thirty on weeknights. If you like to come by over the weekend, I close around six thirty to seven o’clock depending on how busy I get. Except any catering orders or special events, I’m not fussy over whenever you come over. All I ask is that you let me know when you’re coming by in advance so I can have something ready for you. A day or two ahead would be just fine.”

Blitzø, this time, could not find in him to groan loudly in protest to the blatant hardheaded dismissal of the what seemed like hours long argument. The argument he bitterly realized that he couldn’t fight against.

That did nothing to stop him from throwing his head back and scowling at the annoying as shit clean ceiling tiles above them.

“. . . . . . . You really aren’t gonna give this up, are you?” He said after a while.

“I suppose I’m about as bull-headed as you are.”

Blitzø gave a chuffing laugh at that.

Well, fuck.

What was he supposed to do with that?

What could he do with that?

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Fuck it, if the worst happened, he could just disappear again, right?

Not likely Stolas would look for him just for a review, right?

. . . . Right.

“. . . . . . . . . . The peppers and onions were both sweet.”

Stolas blinked at him like the owl he was.

Heh. Cute.

“The omelet was good, but it was kinda over-sweetened; I don’t know what kinda onions you added but personally I would use a more subtle kind of onion to help round out the sweetness of the peppers.”

He let this sink in for a moment before continuing, “I remember seeing you add a green pepper so next time I would recommend using a shallot, maybe about half a tablespoon’s worth should be right. A regular tablespoon’s good too if you don’t use too much of the peppers.”

He sipped at his refreshed coffee. “I personally, like some spice in my eggs to help me wake up, so don’t be afraid to throw some in the mix in the future. Like oregano or basil. You don’t have to go crazy with the amount, though, - just about when you’re making the bowl and a few dashes of it on top when ya put it on the plate. It’ll pair well with the tomatoes and not distract you too much from the rest of the food.”

He took a breath. “Coffee’s good, strong enough to double as a chemical peel, everything any caffeine addict is looking for. The aftertaste doesn’t turn me off from drinking the rest and from how it feels going down I am a hundred and fifteen percent sure you’re a nit-pick bitch cuz I taste how finely you ground the beans without turning them to powder. It’s good ya didn’t because that shit’s only good foe about half hour before fighting to keep your eyes open by either shooting up some dope or knocking back enough 66-Hour-Energy drinks to give the Big B a heart attack.”

Shouldn’t he stop? Maybe he was saying too much. Stolas had asked for honesty and Blitzø was doing his best to deliver it with as little jackassery as possible.

Problem was, for Blitzø, jackassery was his default language, according to practically everyone and their fat mom’s. And, most of the time, he didn’t even realize how much he let slip out before he got a sharp crack across the face. Or a knee to the balls.

He chanced a look at Stolas. If he looked upset, he could take it all back. It wasn’t too late, he could still backtrack -

Tiny stars sparked in Stolas’s wide eyes. Small and bright and beautiful, looking every bit like the twinkling little lights his mom would tell stories to him and Barbie back in their childhood. After the circus ring was cleared of trash and the last Hellhorse was tucked in their stall. Back when, even thought hings weren’t easy, everything was okay.

Before everything suddenly wasn’t.

Stolas, upon noticing Blitzø looking at him, instantly grew more flustered in some odd cacophony of joy and mortification, his plumage fluffing up from the top of his crown to the little floof of feathers on his chest. His hands belated came up to smooth them back into place, unfortunately they did little to quell them along with the rosy blush that tinted his face plate into an eye-catching pink.

Damn, this bird was so cute it was unfair.

The anxious itch in his chest was put to ease right there and then.

This couldn’t actually work, could it?

. . . Could it?

. . . . . . Maybe. Just maybe.

Emboldened, Blitzø sent the owl a lazy smile that easily darkened the pink on his face, matching the warmth the imp felt on his own face. “The apple was like a fucking angel feather, so soft and tasty. You have got to show me how the ever-loving fuck you made it turning to to applesauce ‘cause that shit was better than fuckin’ crack.”

Stolas looked like he couldn’t decide whether to be elated or overwhelmed.

After an awkwardly long amount of time, he clearly had settled on elation. His upper set of eyes turned upward in little crescents as his beak returned the smile with a brightness that Blitzø felt proud of bring out.

“I’d be happy to, darling.”

To be continued . . .

ME: Hey all you sinners & saints! Who’s excited for HAZBIN HOTEL coming out this friday?!?!?!? (Or Thursday if you actually watch it at it’s appointed time) I know I am!

I am SO EXCITED AND DESPERATELY TRYING TO IGNORE THE FACT THIS STORY IS LITTERALLY GOING TO LOST IN HAZBIN HIGH THAT I KNOW IS COMING FOR THE PAST WEEK. AND THE WEEK AFTER THAT. And the week after that . . .

ANYWAYSO, here is the recipe for the Mega-Omelet, which let me tell, just reading the ingredients alone mad me feel full! Also, what do you do for your respective hangovers? Let me know in the comments!

I’ll have the next (& FINAL chapter of this installment) written and posted as soon as I can, so until then, eat hearty, everyone!

Oh, and enjoy your stay at the Hazbin Hotel . . .

[spop-romanticizes-abuse]

Meaningless Suffering ≠ Consequences: An SPOP Rant Analysis

so one huge argument i've seen from SPOP fans, when it comes to Catra's redemption is that “she got tortured and mind controlled by Horde Prime. she almost died at his hands. therefore, she faced the consequences of her actions.”

now.. could this be considered a consequence of her actions? the important question here is: why did Catra get punished by Prime? for going against his rules and freeing Glimmer. she got punished for doing one good thing. this was the consequence of her doing something right. if anything, she would be more discouraged to do good in the future, because the first time she does something good, she almost gets murdered for it.

but i digress. i've seen this trope be used with quite a few characters in media. the other example of this i want to talk about is Marcy from Amphibia. (spoilers for Amphibia below)

in the s2 finale, Marcy is revealed to have stranded her friends Anne and Sasha on Amphibia on purpose, because she didn't want to be alone. while this wasn't as bad as any of the shit that Catra pulled, it was still a fucked up thing to do. Marcy deliberately took Anne and Sasha away from their home and their parents, for her own selfish reasons.

like Catra, Marcy also has abandonment issues. her parents had informed her that they had to move and Marcy was terrified at the idea of having to leave Anne and Sasha behind. but that was still not an excuse for what she did.

not long after her secret was exposed, Marcy gets stabbed by King Andrias while trying to escape Amphibia. she doesn't die, of course, it's still a kid's show.

but to make things worse, she gets possessed by the Core later on, which is shown to be an extremely painful and traumatizing process (which they barely touch upon later). and then they show in a flashback that Anne and Sasha used to ignore Marcy and make her feel lonely, when this was not touched upon earlier in the series. in fact, Anne was shown to be very caring and attentive to Marcy up until this episode.

at this point, it's clear that the writers are trying to make the viewers feel sorry for Marcy. if they keep adding reasons why she's so miserable and traumatized, maybe the viewers would forget what she did to Anne and Sasha. right?

there is a small scene in s3 where Sasha questions why she should forgive Marcy, but it is quickly fixed by Anne telling Sasha that she should forgive Marcy. there's also a moment of realization for Marcy but even that is done in such a cliché and lighthearted manner, where the severity of her actions aren't addressed. and that's it. Marcy is rescued, she apologizes, and is immediately forgiven.

but then again, like SPOP, the last season of Amphibia was trashfire. i refuse to believe that people genuinely liked that season, it was so badly written and ruined everything that was set up prior to it.

anyway, let's come back to SPOP. it's clear that the writers of SPOP were also trying to do the same thing. put poor catgirl through the wringer, have her almost die and come back to life and voila! she is absolved of all her crimes.

for those of you who are still not convinced, let me try to make a real world comparison. let's just say i'm someone who bullies or abuses people. one day while getting home from school/work, i get hit by a car. i get grievously injured and go through a lot of pain. heck, maybe it even leaves some kind of permanent disability or injury.

is that a punishment for my actions? you can call it karma, but let's be real, karma doesn't exist. it's just a coincidence. and you bet i'm not going to wake up in the hospital thinking “this must be my punishment for abusing people”. if i really am an abuser who has no remorse for my actions, a random accident isn't going to change my mind.

and that's what happened with Catra too. she didn't consider Horde Prime's torture as a consequence of her actions. if anything, she used that as an excuse to mistreat Adora and the others even more. it's clear that she pitied herself for what happened. and everyone else pitied her, including the audience.

imagine if the good redemption arcs were written this way. imagine if, instead of working through his issues and facing actual consequences of his actions, Zuko was just tortured and traumatized even more by Ozai, and the Gaang just forgave him because they felt bad for him. yeah, people wouldn't be praising his arc anymore. or they would, who knows. i know i wouldn't be praising his arc.

because this is not the way to redeem a villain. the only way to redeem a villain is to have them face consequences of their actions and work for forgiveness. to show them consistently trying to make up for what they did and trying to be a better person, not because they want to be forgiven or accepted by the heroes, but because it's the right thing to do.

[jessaerys]

your fav mello/near fics??? thank yeww (also love your drawings!)

oohh this reminds me i should pick up my ff.net archival reclist project up again...

it is of note that it's been a looooong while since i've combed the archives and there's a couple of common tropes i don't usually read due to personal taste, so i'm sure there's a lot of good fic i'm unaware of and/or forgetting about! this has totally renewed my interest in making a comprehensive personal reclist >:) perhaps i'll come back and edit this post every now and then.

i owe comments to nearly everyone mentioned here i am SO sorry. it's a lost skill that i am working on developing again. at the very least i've got everyone in one place so i can go down the list this year. i encourage everyone reading from this reclist to leave a comment too!

i wrote "off the top of my head" but this got VERY long so under the readmore it goes

obligatory classics

• the famous @tierfal 's sidetracked (2010) and full of surprises (2009). rated e and m respectively. these are like the allegorical little black dress in the wardrobe of the platonic ideal of the mellonear oneshot. seem to be pretty well known across the ship fandom • stripped (2009) by blueberryash/@tka-trashfire on tumblr. explicit. i haven't read this in a while but i remember it capturing the delicate gossamer tension of the ship in a way that was sooo bittersweet and nostalgic. • to speak of rules and privilege (2008) also by blueberryash/@tka-trashfire, gen, a manifesto on tenderness, soooooooooo soft, changed the game, near being afraid of thunderstorms was immediately adopted into personal canon. big time influence for the way i write near and mello's pre-canon relationship re: big brother, little brother. • an understanding (2008) by blueberryash/@tka-trashfire, rated T, short and sweet, razor sharp prose, the aesthetics of the little piece live rent free in my head. • dual(2011) by ramasi, @ramasi here i believe. rated m. historians say this might be one of the first examples of mellonear choking kink ever recorded,

•scarification (2012) by gacrux11 on fanfiction.net, rated m, big time dead dove do not eat. sorry this one leans early 2010s era grimdark melodrama but i love it sjkdfkjfd. not enough dead dove fics about the boys if u ask me. • salt in the wound (2007) •tempus fugit (2007), and • white out (2006) by vaudevillain king on fanfiction. net. a beloved rare find. all of them are rather grimdark edgy products of their era, but some of the best the era had to offer. they make me so nostalgic for my teenagehood on fanfiction.net. i get the impression these might've been written even before death note was finished? • birthday smut (2009) by kleine_aster on livejournal. explicit. this one is SO funny to me because it is both really, really good, very in character, but unfortunately it suffers from almost satirical misogyny that afflicted fujoshis back in the day. near literally is like oh that bitch... like. he would not fucking think that but i can edit quickly in my brain as i read. bisexual mello rights! otherwise really sexy imo. i might be writing something that's kind of in conversation with this fic.

RARE finds

(please tell me if you enjoy any of these, i want to feel like an explorer that's brought back treasures from far away lands)

contemporary favorites:

• you've heard about it before and you will hear about it again: the archer ensnared (2023) by jabbernatty, rated e. a jessaerys obligatory syllabus read, the fic that made me go fulltime yaoi disease. i owe so much to jabbernatty they are my white whale my friend my enemy the writer i've psychically imprinted on from the beginning. honestly too scared to even leave a comment given the jessarys archer ensnared lore. may one day may contact and pray i don't come across as insane • postmortem (2023) by the_hemlock true gen, a favorite of ALL time. it's only tangentially mn really, it is 99% about near trying to piece together the mystery of lawlight post-canon, but the characterization and prose are some of if not the best i've ever come across. reads like it could be a piece of canon material. if you only read one fic on this list i'd pick postmortem. • it's friday i'm in love by neallo/@neallo rated m. possibly my all time fave in the neallo cinematic universe. something about the after-hours longing and the standing in the kitchen by the refrigerator lights, as the poets say. i love when stories feel like you're cutting out a window to peer into a larger universe that is just out of reach. perfectly captures what it is like to have a maddening crush • i want to hold you (hostage)(2023) by neallo/@neallo rated e. thee defining fic of this current modern mellonear era. manages to walk the line of kinky/sexy/sweet/fluffy all at once. plot twist of the century in the last chapter. near is properly as bananas insane as mello is in this fic, which is the marker of a good mellonear dynamic. really everything by morgan neallo is a safe bet for a great read • there's nothing i want but you (2023) by neallo/@neallo rated t. wammy's era mellonear obsessiveness that is soooo teenagery and yet a portent of just how codependent they might one day get. cute and ominous. • armageddon/kill game (2024) by bolide/@bolide-archive came out of nowhere a couple of months ago and ascended to the top of the game like a dark horse. rated m, chess au. one of my favorite interior mello narrations and one of the most similar to my own interpretation. such naturally talented prose. i rotate lines from this in my head all the time. still in progress but i have faith that it will be completed :') • how to burn down the sacred loom (2023) by dornishviper/@vriskarlmarx a contemporary CLASSIC. the less you know going in the better. beautiful prose, beautiful structure. they don't make fic like this anymore • the house always wins (2023) by mer_curia/@vivi-scera. screaming with my mouth closed. holds a special place in my heart given that it is my posting that convinced vi to give the ship a try, and i was rewarded with a fic that is so catered to my tastes i honestly had to read it through my fingers. SO good, the manifesto on wammyscest, so rather controversial. heed the warnings. • moonlight (2023) by tsukinousagi/@quicktimeeventfull rated t. an austere, cold little glimpse into a vampire au. it's giving let the right one in. so melancholic. one of the saddest near examinations out there. •proximity tells (2018) by abysmallypresent, rated m. truly lives up to death note's second-by-second minutia while managing to keep up the tension the entire time. great characterization. •silhouettes (2015) by bad blood/eroticcodependence, @wxmmyshouse on tumblr. unrated, post-canon compliant. made me CRY! elegantly short and simple, bittersweet and so so wistful. •arsonist's lullabye (2023) by tzviaariella/@tzviaariella. rated t. this one has a heart-wrenching air of realism to it that exists outside the chaotic universe of death note, one of those examinations of picking up the pieces after the titans have all gone away. very bittersweet.

honorary mentions

• let's die somewhere prettier (2020) by firesafinething also one of my absolute favorites, unfortunately it is discontinued and it is likely it will never be completed. sad! the premise seemed SO promising. in my mind i file it right next to postmortem mentioned above. the exploration of the tragedy of 27 year old near we could have had in a better timeline. one day i will leave a comment so good maybe it will bring back the fic from the land of the dead • august underground by me & @firebuggg rated e, in progress. >:) (shamless self promo)

[anti-spop]

i just saw this while scrolling and i'd love to know your thoughts on it.

Adora only broke a rule because Catra guilt tripped her, but fans are acting like it's a good thing?? not to mention, Catra crashed the skiff which could have led to a bigger accident if they weren't lucky. she also blamed that on Adora later.

but ofc SPOP stans always find a way to make any scene between these two romantic.

(sorry if my asks are getting too frequent and annoying! also thank you so much for this blog, you're helping a lot of people realize what an absolute trashfire this series is)

(No need to apologize! I like getting asks. Feel free to send more. And you're welcome!!)

do not harass the OP if you find this post.

Adora almost died and yet Catra didn't apologize, she just blamed Adora for crashing the skiff, like you said, she kept calling Adora "brain damaged" or saying she's having a "weird identity crisis" later on (right after tasing her). Yeah, she sure cares about Adora's well-being. /sarcasm

And Catra wanted Adora to stay in the Horde and not care about the world the Horde was hurting. The world they were hurting. And besides, Catra just wanted Adora to break the rules for her own selfish needs.

The people who actually inspired Adora to rebel were Glimmer, Bow and the whole of Etheria. Not Catra. I am literally sick of stans giving Catra this much credit. That is very disrespectful to Adora as a character, too.

[memberment]

Genesis

Goooooooooodmorning.

Idk why I'm making a post yet I really don't feel like writing. ANYWAYS. Updates may come today. They also may not. Idk yet.

6:51 Hello from beyond. A new playlist is being born as I write through chapter 30. Also, I think I finished my chapter 7 art. It's Craig carrying Tweek home after they first met. They were so cute 😭 Idk what the message is gonna be in that one yet though. I know what the response is, but not the og message. And I am realizing as I type that that I was not supposed to reveal that but fuck it we ball there's like six people on here it's okay.

ANYWAYS. IF I CAN FINISH 30 AND ACTUALLY WRITE 27 (due to a restructure, I skipped over it entirely and have to go back and rewrite it.) AND MAYBE, JUST MAYBE, CIRCLE BACK AND FINISH 22, I will be soooooooo happy. I got like 12 hours til sleep time and I prob will not be working on chapter 8 art. Because I do NOT wanna draw Kenny and Clyde just yet. (I'm afraid. I wanna put them in their magical girl uniforms and ACTUALLY SHOW THEIR UNIFORMS bc they do change eventually and I feel like the contrast goes INSANE.)

9:19: Hello friends totally didn't get distracted<3 ANYWAYS. Back to this hell chapter of everyone having a bad time.

1:38: I got so distracted Desolation was late and I didn't write anything. I have literally written under 1k today which is fucking insane to me. I write more when I'm "on breaks"

But I have come here to yap about something. While I'm "on break" I think I'm going to rework The End Is Near AND New Beginnings. Meaning they might get deleted for a bit. Because I kinda wanna redo them both because let's be so real here. My writing was not shit, but I feel like they are both gems that need a bit of love. I don't know if I'm gonna commit to the bit but I really fucking might LMFAOO.

But I do really want to redo New Beginnings because that was the whole reason I started writing fanfic and people are still looking at it and I feel like it pales in comparison to what I write now.

And reworking those two will be much more lax while I suffer through 15 weeks of physics hell. SOOO.

Whatever. Gonna try and get through chapter 30. and maybe 27 BECAUSE I STILL HAVE TO WRITE IT WHAT THE FUCK‼️‼️

I lied I'm yapping for all of five more seconds because I need to complain and refuse to get a diary.

I am actually really sad that I'm not gonna have every day posts anymore. Like I am trying so hard to cope with it but y'all.

Desolation has 4 chapters left. Tweek's Guide has 7 chapters left. Eclipse has 4 (technically five but epilogue's short so it's gonna get posted same day) chapters left. Craig's Guide has like 10 chapters left. Dandelion has 8 (technically 9) chapters left. and Leap year has 8 chapters left. (Genesis doesn't count because that just started. ) LIKE HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO COPE. I HAVE FOUR FICS AND THERE ARE SEVEN DAYS OF THE WEEK. AND I CAN'T POST MY ONE REALLY FUNNY TRASHFIRE FIC BC PART OF IT IS SO GOOD I KINDA WANNA SPLIT THE CONCEPTS UP AND I REFUSE TO FINISH IT TIL I GET MY SHIT TOGETHER. Like y'all do not understand daily posts are like embedded in my brain. I love it. HOW DO I FIX THIS WITHOUT ACTIVELY WRITING. I hate it here. Oh also when Eclipse or Desolation get finished Dandelion is moving to Monday/Wednesdays because Freedom Pal Fridays are being a thing. Because I have. So. Many. Goddamn. Freedom. Pals. Fics. Sitting. There. ScREAMING. For. Me. To. Write. So An Answers getting thrown on Fridays. But how do I space this out? (I am so sorry for this unnecessary lengthiness I am officially just gaming this out as I type because my brother is sleeping and I can't call him to yap.) Like- I wanted to do Sunday for Genesis but I feel like Sundays kinda suck as post days, lowk. So what then? Monday Wednesday Friday Saturday???? I can't just do Tuesday and not Thursday. AH. I hate it here. I need more time and we are constantly running out of time.

Life is fleeting, and I simply hate it.

2:39: JUST HIT 90K. This has been cut down to 38 chapters. I have 1k ish left of 30. 27 is still undone. 22 needs its angel fight. So approximately 29k-36k ish left. I'm losing my mind. I can't believe I am speedballing through this like that. WHICH MEANS IF GOD SHINES DOWN UPON ME I CAN FINISH BOUND IN PEACE.

Then what?

Do I start my break early?

I don't wanna do that? What the fuck would I even work on then though??????

LMFAO about to pray for clarity.

3:44: Creative freedom is fucking crazy because Wendy's having a heart to heart with Brimmy right now.

4:14: I keep cutting chapters and part of me is starting to worry that this is too short but in the same breath like I'm combining them because drawing them out feels kinda lazy and rude. But we are now down to 36/37 chapters. I can't be too mad about it. But part two might be like, way longer. Also we're at 92.3k. SO I DID SOMETHING TODAY.

I lowk wanna work on bound for a bit but that means committing myself to an entire chapter because I can't just write part of a chapter and go back to it for that one and kinda I wanna reread the whole thing before I work on it more. UGH.

I might. I honestly fucking love Bound, like that was my baby when I was concepting it. I literally wrote so much of it while I was on vacation. Like stats on that one suck bc it's so niche but I do not even care. One of my favorite fics that I've written, easy. I'm not even a K2 girlie. I just wanted to write one because it was gonna annoy me if I didn't throw my hat in the ring at least once. I might write background K2 though for something unimportant bc I kinda like how I write them ngl. OKAY GOODBYE FOR NOW I'VE CONVINCED MYSELF TO MAYBE WRITE ANOTHER BOUND CHAPTER.

[ratwars]

Who do you think is the deepest character in diabolik lovers and whyyyyyy :3 (sorry if this is weird btw :,))

Tomà out here activating my dialovers derangement syndrome 🥲 ty ty ty also sry sry sry in advance 🙏💜

Minors dni with this post

This is not weird omg no one ever asks me about dialovers you need to understand I was into VNs including otome before I was into any anime (including bsd) and diabolik lovers is my longest term obsession that isn't music 💜🙏 This is mostly going to involve things from the games (because the anime was basically silly fanservice that barely scratches the surface for anyone) but I'll leave out drama cd stuff because I would actually need to go refresh myself on those.

Absolute novel under the cut sorry. also cw noncon, cw dubcon, cw abuse, cw csa, cw suicide, cw matricide

Anyone not familiar with the series who decides to continue pls be aware of these warnings and take care of yourself. Also pls understand everything I say is in terms of the series and setting. Absolutely nothing that happens in these games would make any of these characters redeemable irl. This is fiction and a trashfire Do-S fetish franchise. Trauma doesn't excuse abuse. I don't condone any of the bad behavior from this series irl. (Sorry since this isn't my sideblog I feel I need to explain this so ppl don't come at me thinking I'm excusing stuff for reals with this little analysis)

Also this is probably going to have spelling mistakes and horrific formatting because I wrote it on mobile so my bad on that too.

This was so hard to answer because so many of them have serious trauma, maladaptive coping mechanisms, and large amounts of growth throughout the various sequels. I think you could make the logical argument of depth for every single character. The Sakamaki triplets are def the most tragic of the first two games in this regard though (maybe only rivaled by the Tsukinami brothers once we get to Dark Fate because of the whole being the sole survivors of genocide thing)

But as a whole I think Carla and Shin deal with their predicaments in a more outwardly focused manner (which makes sense given their stories and roles as antagonists in their debut game) so I don't think I could objectively call them the deepest esp Carla even though he is my fave.

So out of the Sakamaki triplets I am going to go with Laito. Shocking I know because I have said before he is the one I am the most terrified of. But hear me out.

(I'm using HBD (haunted dark bridal) to refer to the first game, and MB (more blood) to refer to the second game going forward)

His first route in hdb is a stomach twisting mess of isolation, noncon, gaslighting and victim blaming. It is also the only route in that game where Yui tries to kill herself, which imo is really notable. Tbh the first time I played it I was so deeply uncomfortable I didn't really give his character a lot of thought. During replays and some of his drama cds though it def changed my perspective of him (in terms of the deepness of his character, not my dislike of him)

Here are my arguments in topical format because I don't really want to go through and do the research needed to refresh myself and make this chronological. Also if I am mistaken with anything I've paraphrased my bad it's because this isn't a real essay more of a rant that you might regret reading lol.

- Cordelia

We can't go into the rest of my arguments without the facts. He was groomed by his mother and experienced a childhood of CSA at her hands. And he is absolutely confused and suffering when he has his flashbacks. Yes he kills her with the other two triplets, but that didn't actually solve anything for him internally, and I think it is a pretty clear-cut argument that his negative traits and behaviors can be linked back to his unresolved trauma from this. He even says it himself too when he tries to project onto Yui and claim her hatred for him must be the same as his for Cordelia (though unnamed in his quote im pretty sure) that a hatred can run so deep that even killing the person won't relieve the burning. The other ironic part of this is that in the dialovers universe it is explained multiple times that the highest act of love for a vampire is murder. So. Every LI (Reiji, Laito, Ayato, Kanato) that committed matricide out of their hatred probably has some deeper more complex feelings going on than that. (You could also argue maybe a similar thing about Carla and patricide as well though he is Founder/First Blood not vampire. But he is more open about his reasoning and feelings around his parents and why he did what he did imo)

- His disdain of purity (plot twist. It's jealousy).

We repeatedly see him mock both Yui's purity and religiosity. He is arguably the worst out of all of the LIs when it comes to this topic, and hits this point right out the gate when he assaults her in the abandoned church. It is simultaneously a logical and also weird choice on his part to continue on with when you realize how unwavering her faith actually is, and if you do other routes before this one you are already coming in realizing no matter how much she "breaks", "changes", or "gives in" in other ways, she never actually abandons her faith completely even in future games when she is living quite literally in the demon world. Even in routes where she becomes a vampire she doesn't eschew God. However it is canon that she is a devout Catholic and that she originally wanted to be a nun (before the events of the game screw that up for her), so it is still relevant.

While it may have started as a way to try and break her down, it really becomes more and more clear through his routes that like a bunch of his other behaviors, he is projecting his own struggles onto Yui.

He is jealous of her purity, so he attacks it. He is jealous of her faith, so he attacks it. He is jealous of her unwavering belief in goodness and in humanity, so he just. keeps. attacking. it. Because seeing it exist in front of him hurts, but especially early on he isn't aware of his own emotions or why he acts the way he does. So many things in his routes and his monologues highlight the fact that Laito views himself as permanently dirtied by his past, and this behavior is tied to that.

- His inability to identify his feelings from his fake front and his use of sex to maladaptively deal with his trauma.

** I wrote way too much on this and decide nvm I think even if someone has only seen the anime his hypersexuality probably speaks for itself. Plus this is getting so long 😔**

-His lack of control in MB and "forced" behavior. His confusion over his own tears near the end of HDB.

There are various instances (esp in MB where his characterization is wildly different and desperate compared to HDB) where we see his mask start to crack, or realize that his mask wasn't actually very good to begin with and the exhaustion from the continous abuse in his routes has caused both Yui (and us as the reader) to fall for his bullshit more easily. He plays the part of a pervert, but Shu (who arguably is a massive pervert) calls him out in MB for being a phony. His behavior in MB makes him come across as desperate and out of control, as opposed to his calculated sadism in HDB. This all comes back to his inner turmoil, unresolved feelings, and trauma and we slowly unpeal those layers through the rest of the series.

I think at baseline it is really easy to dismiss Laito. I did from the beginning too. Plus he never stops calling Yui Bitch-chan no matter how many sequels he gets 🤦‍♂️ But that is just falling for his fake front, exactly what he wants you to do because then he can just keep carrying on without dealing with his bs and let off steam temporarily in the process. But under the surface there is a lot more going on. And he definitely is a character that has an insane amount of depth.

Sorry for the multi part novel. I don't even like him as an LI even in this series. But for a series with so many inconsistencies, retcons across games, and questionable writing choices, they did a good job with his character. I just need him to stay far away from both me and Yui 🥲 Imagine if you had asked me something that prompted me to talk about my faves 💀💀💀

[voxofthevoid]

hi Vox!! Hope you're feeling well

The way it follows you home lives in my head rent free since I've first read it and I've been thinking about the fix-it parts of it the whole time, sorry in advance for all the questions:

- How does the stat plasma incident differs from the canon one? I imagine Toji wouldn't get involved because of Gojou and Yuuji

- And Megumi, does he stay with the Zenins or does Gojou make a deal with them the same as canon?

- Does Yuuji get to kill his mom again? Matricide part two? I can see Kenjaku feeling satisfied this time too because their plan succeeded in a way and they got something more than them

- On the topic of Sukuna, on the scale of one to ten how big of a hissy fit this timeline's Sukuna throws when he realises how much stronger Yuuji is?

- Does Suguru still defect? I am of the opinion that he would, even if the HI arc never happened but I do wonder how Gojou and Yuuji would deal with it if/when he does defect. And all the ways they console Satoru-kun after that 🤭

Hope I am not being too much of a bother 😅

You're not a bother at all, hon 💗

Before tackling the individual questions, a generally applicable answer is that there's a lot of plot fixing happening in the background in the way it follows you home that the main narrative either mentions in passing or doesn't touch on at all, since its focus is on Satoru's Very Unusual Teen Romance. Gojou and Yuuji come equipped with a fair amount of foreknowledge, though Yuuji has forgotten a lot more than he remembers. It's also an open fact that they're time travelers, which also affects the way they go about things.

In order—

The PV mission straight-up doesn't happen. One conversation with Tengen would make sure of that, since she seemed already pretty content to continue her evolution at that point. In canon, Riko's death cemented that choice, and in this fic, there would be more active intervention and, hopefully, communication. The time travelers would be rather familiar with the consequences of the safety of their society hinging on the prowess of one or two individuals.

If Gojou doesn't nab him, Yuuji would 😂. Neither of them would let Megumi fall into the Zenin's clutches, and that's without taking into account the intended dismantling of that whole system.

Yes, always. Kenjaku can see what they created, and Yuuji can do some cathartic mother murderin'. The dream.

Roughly a 100. He will not go quietly, that's for sure. Tough shit.

As for Getou, in general, I'm also of the opinion that the PV mission was only a catalyst for Getou's defection and that his base ideology would have led him to that path eventually even otherwise. In this particular verse though, I don't think it'll happen because saving/keeping Getou is Gojou's primary priority (aside from his *gestures* unhinged reason for time-traveling in the first place), and he'll be working on that. Whether that involves talking the guy into a saner worldview or locking him in a basement at the first sign of violent bigotry is another question. If Getou does somehow defect despite the two Gojous' best efforts, it'll be far messier than canon precisely because of Yuuji's involvement. Gojou was canonically content to let Getou run around building a cult and killing non-sorcerers; Gojou's morality is heavily based on his personal feelings—that's how I interpret him, at least. Yuuji is a different case, and the past 1000 years of fuckery haven't killed his respect for the intrinsic value of human life. He wouldn't abide the extreme side of Getou's ideology. You can imagine the hot interpersonal trashfire that would be.

[randomite]

People on Tumblr are always hyping these news articles about some rich wanker out there, buying up single family homes.

It sucks. Rich wankers are terrible yadda-yadda. Not the point of this conversation. (Burn them)

The thing is that you have some of the worst ideas on how to fix the housing crisis!

Simply because most people aren't super educated on why the housing market is this way.

Ironically, and this might tick a lot of you off. One of the causes of the housing crisis is likely you, or your co-workers, parents, siblings ect...ect.

https://www.investopedia.com/articles/credit-loans-mortgages/090116/what-do-pension-funds-typically-invest.asp

Are you saving money! (I am!)

Do you have a 401K/Pension/Superannuation? (I Do)

Are you invested in a Real Estate Investment Trust?!

Probably.

Most funds have a little bit of REIT in them. The S&P500 is 2.8% REIT,

These mega trusts own vast amounts of American housing.

https://www.reit.com/research/nareit-research/170-million-americans-own-reit-stocks

Yay. Look at this happy graphic that came from a site really stocked about the great returns on real estate investment.

Now. It should be clear REIT actually own a very small portion of American housing, around 1%. Individual owners make up a far larger portion of the housing market.

REIT live in the happy red space.

The problem with REIT is that they are often terrible.

They are bastions of widespread community gentrification. Sweeping into minority communities like Herongate in Canada and bulldozing the lot. All to make way for shinny condos they can turn a profit on.

https://acorncanada.org/news/leveller-rein-reits-tenants-demand-action-against-real-estate-investment-trusts/

REITs have been accused of slumlord like behaviour. Letting houses decay with mold and refusing repair ect. Ect.

https://www.cbc.ca/news/canada/tenants-lose-as-landlord-transglobe-racks-up-charges-1.1246084

https://doctorow.medium.com/wall-streets-landlord-business-is-turning-every-rental-into-a-slum-b15b81f18612

Essentially my point is....

You could be invested in the very Real Estate Investment Trust that acts as your landlord. You could be invested in the source of your own suffering and gentrification.

The pension investment in REITs for domestic housing is growing. It is too profitable. It is an easy source of growth.

If you are in a bad situation, you should want your pension invested in an REIT. It will help grow your savings (whatever they be). But, that very same REIT might own your home and be the very evil trying to wring cash out of you.

This isn't a call to action. This is more an observation about the neoliberal shit oroborus we are stuck in. You can choose not to invest in REITs, or try and find a good one.

But in doing so, you are worsening the housing crisis. REITs are sophisticated. They use rent increase software and have quantitative analysis of the market used to drive prices up.

If the housing market ever tanks, a good portion of your savings might tank with it.

Now. You might have no savings. You might not have elderly relying on social security. You might be fine.

But. Society is run by trashfire electoralism. If people don't see their investments going up they freak out and vote for the other party.

The pension investment into real estate, allowed in 2001 (thanks Bush), has created people whose retirements and future are dependent on housing prices always going up. Around 51% of Americans are invested in REITs. It is essentially a nightmare that will never be fixed unless people who are smarter than anyone on Tumblr actually put an effort in.

Thanks for reading my depressing rant.

(Also. Sorry if you are in Canada. It is bad in AUS but it seems like REITs can steal newborns over there. Like some articles are like wtf.)

https://www.reit.com/news/blog/market-commentary/reit-allocations-pension-funds-increase

https://www.spglobal.com/marketintelligence/en/news-insights/latest-news-headlines/us-pension-funds-up-real-estate-exposure-to-offset-rising-risks-71610560

https://www.benefitsandpensionsmonitor.com/investments/alternative-investments/real-estate-has-become-a-cornerstone-asset-class-for-pension-fund-investors/383790

[vergess]

you seem like a good person with genuinely nice intentions- i also find it really awful when people go "dont bully people because they COULD be autistic" instead of just saying "don't bully people." the idea that someone hates me, or thinks im cringe, but chooses not to be rude to me because i seem autistic to them is way more hurtful than them just bullying me... (obviously the ideal is for them to never bully anyone) and the argument that we shouldn't bully individuals with "childlike/cringe" interests because they might be autistic is really infantalizing, because it assumes that autism and having "childlike/cringe" interests are interlinked when i don't really think that's the case. (using childlike/cringe in quotes because i don't really believe any interests are childlike or cringe, just those are common descriptors used by people). again, you seem like you have really nice intentions, and i'm pretty sure we all agree, bullying is bad, it should never happen, but the idea of not bullying someone because they could be autistic is just harmful to the autistic community + doesn't stop bullying. have a wonderful night, im sorry for sending you an ask <3 im sure you'll get some hate so i wish you the best

Look, you also seem nice. You're the last ask that slid in under the wire before I turned them off completely due to the mass harassment.

That means you sent this before all the submissions and DMs once I turned asks off, where people started getting really fucking nasty. I am trying very hard not to hold those people against you, but it has been a long fucking day.

So, I'm trying my best here to be patient and kind when I write this essay, instead of just blocking or reporting you. You seem like you might be willing to listen. Even if you're not, your message makes a good starting point for me.

Because I have two major problems here.

1: Autism absolutely correlates with preferring media aimed at younger audiences.

This is not universal, and it's not because we're ~stupid~. It's nothing to do with """"mental age"""" or whatever trashfire talking points you've heard. You may recognize the more clinical terminology from diagnostics, even. It's a major identifiable symptom called "age-inappropriate interests and behaviours." (I personally prefer age-atypical; the current technical language is still, unfortunately, age-inappropriate.)

These age-atypical interests are caused by combinations of disability related factors including but not limited to:

Children's media has cleaner sound balancing with stronger dialogue tracks that make following the language easier. There also tend to be clearer pauses and tonal cues.

Children's media is often safely predictable in its outcome. Someone may die, but probably not the main hero, for example. This predictability is desirable for many autistic people in a hobby, as it limits distressors.

Language used tends to be plainer, with less reliance on quick flying quips that are hard to hear/read fast enough, or clever implications in screenplay. Many other autistic people love complex "adult" film specifically because they are fluent in screenwriting and enjoy exercising that fluency. Many more autistic people never learned screenplay fluently. Pretending that all autistic people have the same level of fluency in screenplay is not conducive to having a genuine conversation on this subject. All of this information and more is available to you it you associate yourself with non-verbal, less verbal, and intellectually disabled autistic people right here on tumblr.

Children's media is often translated into more languages than adult media, especially with dubbing. Being able to hear and read the dialogue simultaneously is a super basic access issue that autistic people are stuck fighting all the damned time, and kid's shows are some of the very few types of mass accessible pop art that actively enable that.

Speaking of mass access: children's media is often very easy to access, with a tendency towards being hosted on multiple stream sites, broadcasting in syndication, etc. This means more autistic people have access to it, and thus by simple numbers, more of them will enjoy it than niche artforms we are rarely allowed to interact with freely.

Media consumption more broadly is a desirable hobby for many autistic people because it can be done alone or with friends, as one's energy levels allow, and both forms can be similarly gratifying. This is a level of control over socialization that is very rare for most autistic people.

You'll also find trends of autistic people gathering around other subjects that have these qualities, not just children's media. Just off the top of my head, both kink and train collecting meet these standards, particularly as regards control, stressors, and access; both are also famous for being disproportionately autistic.

Indeed, this tendency to gather around accessible, controllable hobbies that can be engaged with alone or in small groups creates the very notion of "cringe."

People don't think watching kid's shows is bad in a vacuum: they think that autistic people are shameful, and thus anything we congregate around is shameful too. Including watching kid's shows.

Pretending that autistic people don't have an above average level of interest in media made for kids is nonsense. It's nonsense. It actively worsens everyone's perception of both the diversity of autistic experiences. You can claim that anti-bullying campaigns are bad for autistic people all you like, but no amount of research has ever or will ever back up that claim.

Either you are lying, or you have been lied to.

Autistic people are so well known for this that it's literally how we are identified socially AND diagnosed medically.

That's the reality.

No matter how much you hate it: other autistic people are still going to be drawn to hobbies you don't share, and they are still going to be abused for it. Including so-called """baby movies."""

Enjoying media you don't is not grounds to say that actually the abuse other people face is made up and doesn't need to be addressed.

Liking kid's shows is morally neutral.

You must acknowledge it as a morally neutral statement of fact, not an accusation of personal failing. Liking kid's shows is no better, no worse, no different from liking mid-16th century tapestry, or artsy experimental music from cities I've never heard of in countries I've never visited.

If you cannot even admit that all non-violent hobbies are equally legitimate, then we have no common ground upon which to continue a discussion.

As long as you operate under the presumption that any autistic who is less complex in their interests than you is not worth acknowledging, then you are not worth this discussion. You can try again when you've learned not to be pro-bullying.

Which brings me to

2: You are still, right now, loudly and proudly insisting that being anti-bullying is Bad Actually.

Once you've accepted the fundamentally morally neutral nature of being into something kinda "cringe," ask yourself why your reaction to anti-bullying campaigns rooted in that neutrality is to separate yourself from the other autistic people demanding to be treated with the basest level of human respect.

To then pass on blatant lies about those people (whether knowingly or by mistake), and claim that they are hurting themselves. To demand that those people "stop hurting themselves" by obeying your rules. Rules that, whether you wish to admit it or not, were very obviously made out of ignorance and will very obviously cause great harm.

Those lies are now fueling hatred of a damn anti bullying campaign. The single most milquetoast conceivable.

Furthermore, this is an anti bullying campaign modeled off some of the most successful abuse interventions for autistic people that have been studied to date. It is a campaign started by other autistic people to protect ourselves from the heaps of ableist abuse we receive daily.

And you loathe it enough to join this cavalcade.

But see: the anti bullying campaigns work. They save lives. They improve quality of life in every measurable field. And they have done for literally decades. This is a closed matter. A proven fact.

Whereas spreading misinformation about the diversity of autistic experiences actively worsens that quality of life. Another proven fact, actually.

Your choice is between a proven benefit to autistic people started by and for us. Or a proven detriment that causes huge amount of death in our community.

And right now, with all your genteel kindness, silk gloves and sweet honey? You've chosen "do the thing that makes autistic people suicidal". Worse, you've convinced yourself that this is a good thing. That increased suicidality and abuse benefits all autistic people because the method thereof happens to benefit you.

I don't know how you think it benefits you. Maybe it makes you feel safer in allistic society. Maybe it just boosts your ego with a rush of vicious justice serving glee. Probably it's something else entirely.

Whatever the reason, you've nevertheless chosen the second most common cause of death among autistic people ages 10-35 as the thing you want to support.

See, telling people not to be abusive shitheads because like 70% of their abuse is rooted in an unexamined hatred of disabled people is not """"shoving politics where it doesn't belong"""" or whatever else. It's identifying and acknowledging the root issue, and attempting to actively address it.

So, with all that out of the way:

WHY did you think sending me this misinformation would make me more sympathetic to the literally dozens of people who have done nothing but harass me for 13 fucking hours now?

[thelediz]

Sonic Underground Episode 15: Artifact

I’m watching Sonic Underground in search of inspiration to finish a fic I’ve been writing forever. It’s a sad state of affairs. See the recap of the first three episodes here, if you're interested!

Translation thing here: in my dialect, ‘artifact’ is spelt ‘artefact’. I am absolutely going to switch between the two without meaning to. Sorry.

The plot (for want of a better word): Robotnik claims to have uncovered the spoils of the Mobius spiritual ground Mobo-Pinchu! He tries to sell them off to the aristocrats, but the Sonic Underground have discovered they’re actually old weapons! Can they save the aristocrats and put a stop to Robotnik’s dangerous exploits?

Okay. The last two episodes have been incredibly demotivating. We’re going in with positivity and hope for a proper trashfire, okay? Okay.

“We like to believe the past doesn’t have any effect on us”. WOW. That is not the case anymore and I can’t even blame the writers now I think about it. Things have CHANGED, my friends.

World building, hooray! They’re undercover at a high society party and Sonia is panicking because she knows literally everyone here and isn’t even trying to hide her face. But as Sonic points out, no one even looks at the waitstaff.

I have terrible facial recognition, for the record, so although I do look at waitstaff, I wouldn’t recognise her either. Context matters.

Sonia’s in love with Bartleby +1

Mobo-Pinchu… SIGH. I love it, but SIGH. For the record, Machu-Picchu was an incan settlement with multiple temples, and current theory says it was an emperor’s estate. In Sonic Underground, it’s a lost spiritual centre.

So it’s kind of extremely funny in hindsight that the whole point of this episode is that the Mobo-pinchu artefacts are actually old weapons. It’s probably pretty true to life!

So this whole event is a fundraising event for Robotnik’s SWATbots. “For everyone’s peace of mind and security”. And everyone who doesn’t bid is suspect. Have I mentioned the worldbuilding? Because THIS WORLDBUILDING.

So Sonia apparently attended Mobo University. I remind you, she’s either twelve or sixteen. And she attended university. We smile and nod.

Manic’s black market tendencies Thievery Is A Problem +1

So the artefact is actually a weapon from the ‘last Mobian war’ about 500 years ago. Meanwhile, the other artefact is a still-live bomb that Manic’s contact has just set off. Round of applause for old Mobian tech, still running digital timers after five hundred years.

So the black market contact not only sells to Bartleby (pointing out that Bartleby 100% deals in crime, just quietly), but sells out the triplets because Sonic roughs him up. And he is almost immediately robotocised for it. HAVE I MENTIONED THE WORLDBUILDING.

I love that Bartleby asks Sonia when she’s going to grow up and stop fighting Robotnik. Like this is all teenage rebellion. It’s so perfect on so many levels.

Poor Bartleby’s home… completely trashed by both the Hedgehogs and Sleet. The show implies he deserves it, but I mean… honestly. Poor idiot.

Also, Robotnik threatens Bartleby for going to the black market, not with robotocisation, but telling the other aristocrats he cheated them out of SWATbot protection. The show makes out that this is just Bartleby not being able to go to cool parties, but for an aristocrat who deals in power, this is a HUGE threat. Bartleby is quite rightly horrified at the idea and immediately focusses on going against the Sonic Underground for at least this episode.

Have. I. Mentioned. I. Love. This. Unspoken. Series’. Worldbuilding.

A last minute song to save the day: You Can’t Own Everything. The singing leaves a lot to be desired but the instrumental is a bop! The lyrics themselves are very 80s environmentalism, so we smile and nod.

And… randomly, while escaping, the triplets find the real Mobo-Pinchu. It, unlike the real one, actually is a secret underground temple filled with gold, which the triplets say belongs to the People Of Mobius (and not the Resistance). The implication that I, problem that I am, take away being that they would only claim this treasure once they’re proper royalty again and can use it in actual service of Mobius.

You know, like Robotnik claimed to be doing.

Heheheheh

Anyway. Yes. Thank you, trashfire, I desperately needed this episode after the last couple.

The counters:

Sonic implying less than 100% American heterosexuality: 4

Sonia in love with Bartleby: 4/37

Sonia in love with someone who is not Bartleby: 1/37

Sonia’s got super strength: 3

Manic’s thieving Is A Problem: 3

On to the next.

[tcfactory]

UPDATE ON MY EXPERIENCE WITH FFXIV. MY FRIENDS ARE EVIL AND HAVE BETRAYED ME. during the character creator i was like "haha i might as well make a guy who looks like me, they have my haircut!" and when we got to names, my friends said that it would be fun for me to take on a more final fantasy name, cause i love sorta lowkey roleplaying. they insisted i should stay myself though, so i figured it was cool. well. guess who apparently has being RPing 'Fandaniel Amon' this whole time. i am so mad.

kjdfhaslkfjsdhlfa

I'm sorry, but that's both incredibly funny and kind of a dick move, ngl. You either have the best or worst friends. Possibly both.

Just between the two of us, I'm very much in favor of roleplaying - RPing canon characters too, I have a bunch of alts I keep around for that. Not Funny Daniel, but I have a somewhat related trashfire gremlin gay disaster angry little pursedog over on the Crystal DC who I plan to take through the current expansion next.

But baiting someone new to the game into picking the name of a character they don't know yet because he only shows up 4 expansions in is...

No, thank you. That feels a bit mean. On some servers people can be pretty rude to roleplayers and I'm not sure how far into MSQ you are, but Fandaniel is a character a lot of people have very strong feelings about, for good or ill.

Anyway, I hope you are having a great time. 💕

[lumeha]

For the series questions... Fire Emblem?

Fire Emblem, my Forever Fandom TM !

... I'm excited about doing that one. It's large but. Heyyy !!

Favorite character

According to my poll (checks notes) it's Rhea :D

Considering where I started with her (not liking her at all), it feels quite strange to now sit here, with an ita bag dedicated to her that features art I got made specifically for it (tiny crochet Rhea !), and a tattoo with her sword and shield and flowers. But Rhea is such a fucking fantastic character. She is what people say they want when they want a morally grey character. She's stuck between a rock and a hard place, she takes decisions that aren't clean cut, and yet.

I adore her. I adore the layers to her character, with grief and revenge and the care and softness and she's so so so good ;; she deserves so much more love than she gets

Honourable mention to Arvis in particular, who had my heart for years and years, and he is still one of my absolute favourite trashfire, but. Yes.

Second favorite character

Just because I did shout out Arvis in the last one, I'm going to avoid him. And without making a joke about the current poll about people deciding my favourite FE character...

There are a lot of candidates.

But right now, I'm feeling it, I'm going to pick Knoll. Knoll is, in the grand scheme of things, a character that means a lot more to the world of FE8 than it looks like, I feel. He was the one working with Lyon. He has knowledge of what happened behind the scene. He's a tired, depressed man who thinks about killing himself and awaited for his execution with the serenity of someone who had accepted his fate. Knoll knows the shit that Ephraim and Eirika don't, about Lyon, Vigarde, and what happens with Grado.

And I love that all of this comes in the form of a quiet, depressed man who does want to find some spark back because maybe there's a hope to let Grado live on and survive in the way Lyon wanted it to.

It's so fucking nice.

Least favorite character

It's a large franchise. There are many characters that someone might not like (that someone being me).

...

But maaannnnnn fuck Clive. I really don't like him. He's just a bit annoying to me, it's not the biggest crime, but actually, yes it is. He's annoying. He's just not doing it for me. I really don't like Clive. /o\

The character I’m most like

... I'll be honest. Luthier. Well. I'm not as much of a hard worker as Luthier. But I do feel like I am quite like him. Certainly not confident and quite awkward and making friends with cat better than with other people.

Some might say I'm endearing and I think he is in his own ways but I'm probably endearing in a similar way to him : awkward and just very, very nerdy.

Favorite pairing

I think this one is going to be coming out of left field for some people because I have not written NOR drawn them. But it's Ephinnes. Been a ship since I was a teen ! I love them ! the energy ! it's so perfect !! They have a dynamic that is just so good, without even having a damn support !!!! I Love Them !!

I have complicated feelings with some of my favourite pairings for FE, like, (carries fraldarddyd) I have Opinions on how they are depicted in general and it makes it a little weird to interact with people about the ship

Shout out to Duessel / Knoll, though, my absolute rarest of rarepair, they are so good and I love them :>

Least favorite pairing

Edel///eth (sorry it looks a bit ridic but look we don't want this brick of a post in the search for people who like the ship)

Favorite moment

Most recent is probably Rhea turning into a dragon to protect Garreg Mach when the Empire walks over to it. It means so much for her character and for the game. Like you know the gloves are coming of.

... But I do need to shout out a very specific moment of FE7. And that is when Ninian and Nils are talking about Elbert to Eliwood, telling him how he died, but actually mostly telling him how this man who didn't know them helped them so, so much, telling them stories of his home and his family, and helping them escape, and. idk. it has stuck with me all this time. Like that fucking tiny ass GBA art ?

That one ??? I still think about it

Rating out of 10

Look. I adore Fire Emblem in general. I think it's a franchise that has many, many cool moments, some really good gameplay, and often stories and characters whom I love very much.

But Fire Emblem can only be rated on a scale from 5.5 to 9 out of 10 as a rating. Because it varies between games. And some of the highs are high and some of the lows are very low.

[agentrouka-blog]

Are you watching HotD and if yes who are you enjoying as characters? If no then I am sorry for throwing this into your inbox in the first place.

I am not actively watching it yet. :)

It's been a busy couple of weeks and I haven't found the time yet to watch it with my husband. (He usually watches sports or cooking shows, two things I am not that passionate about, so this is me enforcing a tv bonding moment. It is going to happen.)

I am passively consuming it through what passes over my dash and at this point I am the most invested in Alicent and Helaena. Aemond seems to be a fun character, but they'll have to work hard to make Jace as compelling as he actually should be.

Basically, it appears to be a fun trashfire that is much more emotionally compelling than I expected it to be, so I'm looking forward to watching it. I won't truly care about it until they introduce the North properly, though, and then I'll decide if I can actually take it seriously.