#its all a little off even the gangs proportions

[howlinghound11]

Presenting:

My very first AU: Welcome Home Scooby AU

Lmao i already gushed about it on the original post but it's still so funny to me, imagining the neighbors in like classic scooby doo hijinks lol

I just had to draw the gang all together and make it all pretty!

Here's the original post btw! (I forgot to link it) also the full colors are in the notes of that post

[joannechocolat]

Burn the library, or walk inside. Either way, it's your choice.

Unless you've been living under a rock, you can't have missed the escalating riots all around the country - riots which the media keep referring to as "protests", in spite of the fact that no-one involved seems to agree on just what they are protesting against.

Dragging strangers out of cars, burning down public buildings, throwing stones at ambulancemen, setting fire to hotels in a deliberate attempt to burn the people inside alive - and maybe scoring a new phone or pair of trainers on the way home - has nothing to do with "protest."

It certainly has nothing to do with the brutal murder of three little girls, although that was used as a springboard by online agitators, claiming that the murderer was an immigrant (he wasn't, and even if he were, attacking other immigrants because of what he did makes about as much sense as torching a Wetherspoons in Manchester in protest against Myra Hindley.) Nor does it have anything to do with Asian grooming gangs in Rotherham, although that's the most recent excuse I've heard: those grooming gangs were dreadful, but these criminals do not represent the Asian community any more than do the white leaders of grooming gangs (which by far outnumber them).

So, what the fuck is this about?

Well, it's the illegal immigrants, they say. Coming into our country, taking our jobs, raping our girls, yadda, yadda, yadda. Except that it isn't. Brexit has made it increasingly difficult for foreigners to work here, which is why so many European doctors and nurses have already left the country, putting still yet more pressure onto our dying NHS. And refugees - let's call them that, given they're neither immigrants, nor here illegally - aren't allowed to work while their application is being processed. As for "immigrant crime", a phrase that these people have borrowed from Trump - it represents a tiny proportion of crime in the UK, which by the way has risen sharply as the riots have escalated, because the police just don't have the manpower to fight on two fronts at the same time.

And add to this the fact that the principal agitators - people like Yaxley-Lennon and Farage - don't even live in this country, I think it's pretty clear that whatever motivation these burners of libraries, looters of shops, and goose-stepping Nazi cosplayers claim, it has nothing to do with "British values" or "taking back the country", and everything to do with doing whatever the fuck they want and blaming it on someone else.

Why do I care? Because I was born in one of these communities. I still have family in Rotherham, in Barnsley. I live less than fifteen miles away from the heart of these riots. I've done events in the libraries and universities that have been attacked. And by the way, isn't it weird how thugs always target libraries and places of learning on their way to robbing their local Lush, or Greggs, or Shoezone?

It's almost as if the agitators know that education is the key. That reading brings us together; teaches us to question what we read on the internet; crosses cultural boundaries; reminds us we're all human. And in disaffected communities like Rotherham, with a high degree of poverty, access to these ideas is very dangerous in the eyes of a far-right movement that wants to take power.

Already, 14 years of austerity, cuts and corruption has brought the country to its knees. By cutting education and the arts, Tories have reduced the access of these underprivileged communities to critical thinking and new ideas. Brexit has done further damage, as well as cutting us off from our allies. After the event, it is now clear how much Russian misinformation played its part in that process, just as it's playing a part right now in spreading its racist rhetoric via supporters like Farage and the fake accounts that amplify him. Now they're no longer in power, the far-right is doing its best to do as much further damage as possible to our society, urging people to "take control" by destroying anything else that can help them out of poverty.

Why? Because poor people are easier for the far-right to control. Poverty and crime are linked; just as illiteracy and crime are linked. And both of those things are linked to hate; to racism and mistrust of anyone who seems different.

But here's the thing. There's always a choice. Not everyone who grows up poor becomes a criminal. Not everyone who missed out on a good education becomes a racist. I grew up in a poor neighbourhood. There were some racists there, and some thugs, but most people were decent and honest. Most people were happy to co-exist with people of different cultures. I was one of those people; my family was different. Sometimes people even told us to go back home where we belonged. Most didn't. But of course, were were white. We looked like them. There's an obvious reason why brown and Black people in particular are being dehumanized and blamed for what's wrong with the country now.

And it's ironic, how people react when someone calls them racist? "But we're just ordinary people, with ordinary concerns."

"I'm not racist, I'm just (insert your bullshit reason here)."

And yet, here we are. Racism is ordinary. And if you do racist things, if you blame all brown people for what one brown person did, if you judge people by the way they look, if you make assumptions about whole groups of people, then you're a racist. And if you spout Nazi slogans, do Nazi salutes, walk with Nazis, repeat Nazi propaganda, then you're a fucking Nazi, mate. Live with it, or change. Your choice.

Because the choices we make today affect what comes tomorrow. And although poverty isn't a choice, being a decent person is. Your choices can help your children break the cycle of despair. Or they can keep your kids stuck in the same rut. To put it another way, you can take your kids to the library and let them learn to think for themselves. Or you can burn the libraries down and take them to watch you and your mates trying to set fire to some terrified refugees in a hotel instead.

Either way, your kids get to live with the choices you make today.

Right now, you're deciding their future.

Your choice.

[fraterribilis]

The taxonomy of Sly Cooper: Part 1

In which I will be using my higher than average knowledge of zoology to attempt to accurately identify the specific animal species of various characters in the Sly Cooper franchise, sharing some interesting facts about them along the way.

I'll start with the four most prominent characters; Sly, Bentley, Murray and Carmelita. If people are interested I'll be making similar posts for the other characters.

WARNING: I will be unleashing my inner Animal Kid™ in this post. Verbose language and casual dropping of scientific names abound

Starting off with Sly himself, I like to believe that he is a crab-eating raccoon (Procyon cancrivorus). This quirky little carnivoran is found throughout South America and parts of Central America. Despite its name, it has a varied diet including crustaceans, fish, small turtles (watch out Bentley), fruits and nuts.

As opposed to the common raccoon (Procyon lotor), which can be a bit of a chubby little furball, the crab-eating raccoon has shorter and sleeker fur, and its slender proportions makes it an even better climber than its northern cousin. All of this makes it a perfect fit for Sly in my opinion. Also, its jaws are more defined and powerful than those of common raccoons, which i think is very appropriate for Sly's dashingly chiseled jawline.

Bentley was a little bit tricky to identify, as he seems to be a rather generic looking turtle. However, a closer inspection of his shell reveals his kinship.

This rather flat, ring-marked shell has led me to conclude that he must be a diamondback terrapin (Malaclemys terrapin).

Like Bentley, diamondback terrapins are very resourceful animals, being able to survive in both fresh and saltwater habitats, where they priamrily feed on insects, fish, crustaceans, and mollusks. They can be found in brackish marshes and mangrove forests thoughout the east coast of North America. The beautiful diamond-like markings on their shells are unique for every individual. Some people believe that the markings indicate the turtles age, like growth rings on a tree.

I have seen others identify Bentley as a box turtle, which I don't get at all. Box turtles are distinquished by their bulky BOX-shaped shells. The diamondback on the other hand has a flatter, more streamlined shell, which makes it very mobile in the water. Though, I guess this makes it all the more ironic that none of the core members of the Cooper gang know how to swim, despite all of them being based on semi-aquatic animals, but I digress.

Speaking of semi-aquatic, I firmly believe that Murray is a pygmy hippopotamus (Choeropsis liberiensis). Not just because I have an affinity for these animals, but I can back this up by examining Murray's design and characterization.

Murray has a very stocky and robust body (friend-shaped), with a relatively short compact snout, not unlike the pygmy hippo. This is in stark contrast to the common hippo (Hippopotamus amphibius) which has a very large ungainly (and less "cute"-looking) head in proportion to its body.

I think the main reason that Murray's design in the unfinished Sly-movie was so unappealing, is that they based his proportions too much on those of a "realistic" common hippo.

Anyways, pygmy hippos can be found in scattered populations across forests along the west coast of Africa, where they feed on broad-leafed plants and fallen fruits. They are extremely rare and endangered due to habitat loss and the bush-meat trade.

Unlike the infamously aggressive common hippo, the pygmy hippo is a rather docile and shy animal, whose first instinct when threatened will typically be to run away and hide (not unlike Murray in the first game) though it can defend itself with its powerful jaws. True to its name, the pygmy hippo is less than a quarter of the size of its larger relative, with the biggest specimens weighing in at about 600 pounds (which is lighter than some domestic pigs).

Moving on to Carmelita, there's no getting around the fact that she is supposed to be a red fox (Vulpes Vulpes), what with her strikingly orange fur colour and long bushy tail. The red fox needs no introduction, being one of the most succesful and abundant carnivorans on earth (besides domestic dogs and cats), with a range covering basically the entire northern hemisphere (aside from the Arctic), along with a worryingly invasive population in Australia.

Even though Carmelita is often characterized as a spicy latina, (being inspired by latina actresses such as Selma Hayek and Jessica Alba) Latin America is one of the few places on earth not inhabited by red foxes. These areas of course have their own native fox species. I considered the possibility that she could qualify for being a gray fox (Urocyon cinereoargenteus), a kit fox (Vulpes macrotis), or even a culpeo (Lycalopex culpaeus), but the thing that really cements her as being a red fox is her jumping ability.

Red foxes are able to jump up to 2 meters into the air, which is four times their shoulder height of about 50 cm. This would be the equivalent of a 6-foot person jumping 24 feet in the air, which feels appropriate given some of the insane feats of athleticism we've seen Carmelita pull off throughout the series.

[yorutsuki]

「 ✦ Artistic Notes ✦ 」

↳ It started with a small drawing and a compliment, which then grew into a anonymous friendship.

Michealangelo x Reader

Tags:

──────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──────

Adding the finishing touches, you sighed with relief as you stood up—some joints cracking from the sudden change in movement.

You looked down at your chalk-art masterpiece. It was probably one of the most detailed pieces you've done with the compressed powder. The lines were smooth and the shading was just the right color and opacity—the features were visible and at the right proportion and angles.

You grinned, satisfied with your work but frowned as you checked your clock. It was already around 1 am.

Quickly giving a small prayer to whoever rules over luck, to grant you the luck of it not raining before heading off the roof and to your apartment.

Yes, you lived in a small apartment fit for one, though you had got lucky as you managed to snag the penthouse room which granted you access to the roof where you could thus spread your amazing skills.

...

Unfortunately, the next morning you realized you had forgot to bring the chalk down with you before heading to bed.

Quickly you made a dash upstairs to make sure nobody stole it. Even though you were the only one who had access to the roof, there had been news of sightings about some gang named 'the foot', honestly, it was a stupid name.

Who'd wanna be referred to as a foot? That's one of the most sweaty and disgusting limbs on the body...—well for most.

Yeah, the clan could have better things to do than steal chalk, but you didn't want to take chances as chalk these days are expensive as shit—with inflation going on and all.

Finally making it up to the roof, you quickly spotted the box of 24 pieces, though you also spotted a colorful piece next to yours.

Quickly scanning the area for anyone, you made your way towards your supplies and the new addition.

It was a little drawing of a chibi turtle with a orange mask saying, 'That looks sick 10/10!' with a thumbs up.

Your heart warmed at the small message though you didn't know how to feel about it. How did someone manage to get on your roof?

....

I meannnn...Is it really that bad? They left you a cute message and they seemed to be quite the cute artist.

With a small smile, you took the box of chalk and went down to your room once more—waiting until the night falls once more.

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

With a giddy feeling, you quickly made your ways towards your roof (yes, you've claimed it as yours 😈) and starting drawing another piece under the old one, though this time with a small message.

'Thank you, thank you! I quite like it myself :)

U don't seem too bad either.'

You were contemplating if you shoudl change it or write something more. Not wanting to dote on it any longer, you ignored your overthinking before heading back down stairs—a excited smile plastering your face as you were eager for the next morning to come.

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

Your smile grew as you made your way towards your roof and saw that there was a new message.

':O

I tried it out, it may not be the best but its something? :')'

Right beside the messy writing, there was drawn the same orange-masked ninja-like turtle. The drawing was much more detailed though as it had more shading and colorful highlights. The chalk piece itself was a bit messy but it made it look like a fun collage piece.

...

Later in the evening, near the same time, you were on the roof top thinking of what to reply;

'Dang, you ever heard color theory? Also, you seem to really like turtles' You wrote, drawing a small chibi version of your oc—just a bit underneath the anon's chalk piece.

'now we wait.' You thought.

...

The exchange of notes between you and anon had been going on for days at this point, and soon a few days had turned into a few weeks.

The two of you had gotten closer and learnt more about each other; Anon liked the color orange, had three other brothers and a cat, loved dancing and skate boarding, etc. At this rate, it was safe to say you were like very good 'online' bestfriends.

It also seemed like luck was always by your side on the roof at night, as not once had it rained before either one of you got to see the others message.

Unfortunately, that would also be cut short as your luck ran out this night.

You waited on your couch, catching up on some good series that you procrastinated on for a good chunk. Finally, it came to quite a exciting scene, but thats when you heard small taps on your windows—it eventually growing from single small taps to multiple patters at a fast rate.

You decided not to pay mind to it as the rain never really bothered you. Well, until now.

Quickly realizing your naivity, you threw your blanket to the side and headed towards the roof—wanting to make sure your messages were preserved.

As you made it to the roof, you had a hard time navigating as the rain poured down harder by the second, though it didn't hinder your vision to the point where you couldn't see the dark silohuette on your roof.

You carefully grabbed anything within your reach before carefully making your way towards the said figure. With each step, the outlines became clearer until what you saw before you wasn't a human, but a mutant turtle.

You stood a bit aways, leaving space between the two of you, and fortunately, it didn't notice you yet. Though something about it made you feel..sad?

The mutant kneeled down to the ground, seeming to inspect the once beautiful chalk pictures before it sighed and got up.

You furrowed your brows, squinting your eyes to try getting a better view of it, though it seemed to beat you to it..

You froze in place, tightening your grip on your 'weapon' as the mutant's gaze stayed frozen onto you.

"Uhh...This is just a dream!" He said before slowly backing away.

You snapped out of your daze. For some reason your body inched closer towards him, something felt...familiar? And that's when it hit you,

"Mikey?" You spoke, dropping your weapon.

The turtle was taken aback before inching just a bit closer. "{Y/N}?"

.

.

.

A/N: UDVYUWBIUVUYAVD, I can't, it was sooo much better in my head. This fic was supposed to be short, concise and sweet but it wasn't. 😭, My boy doesn't deserve this.

I promise i'll make another one. Feel free to comment any character suggestions or scenerios, my inbox is always open!

[freakartack]

Got any HCs towards why half of the gang left WW Inc. during DIY? And what happned towards the brand new Micro game company?

I actually live for this workplace drama

Truly the short answer is "no" because I have no idea what he could have done to fuck up this bad. but if both mona and jimmy t jumped ship you KNOW it's bad.

These are all (in-universe) forum speculations so your salt grains may vary but something interesting about this is that one of them throws out that wario never did any work. Now wario is lazy and an asshole who never pays anyone but despite the fact that he's making money off of all his other friends' work, he HAS made his own microgames. In most games he's even made twice as many microgames as each of his friends (one set at the beginning and one set at the end). So what happened here? Was he refusing to make his own games this time? Did it come to light that he HADN'T actually made all those games? Did he plagiarize them? Did he outsource them? Are YOU, the player, partially responsible for this friend group schism? He certainly isn't above using his friends' assets after they left the company.

But you know who else isn't above profiting off of the demise of his social life?

DOCTOR CRYGOR!! Not only is he letting you, Wario's only employee prior to Showcase, use the makermatic engine, but he's ALSO supplying it to everyone in diamond software AND wario-man software. He's playing both sides for cash money!! No wonder wario is friends with him!

But crygor isn't even the only person who's profiting off of this. People in wario's life are quite literally coming out of the woodwork to make money off of this fiasco. I speak of none other than:

MASTER MANTIS!! Why is he here?? Smooth moves, the game he and cricket debut in, is a departure from the typical warioware storyline in that we're not even sure if anyone made any games. Rather than the typical "everyone pitches in to make this game for you" plot, there's all that jazz about ancient artifacts and allusions to people literally playing microgames in real life. (Or at the very least, having fun holding the wii remote in various positions. I don't judge.) Either way, there is no mention of either young cricket or master mantis being hired at warioware incorporated. So they would have had no horse in the race of its temporary dissolution.

UNTIL NOW!!!

MASTER MANTIS, YOU FUCKER!!

But not everyone is looking out for themselves in this game. SOME PEOPLE actually care about their friendships. SOME PEOPLE, whose friendships were unfortunately split up in a tragedy of indescribable proportions:

The fact that 9-volt left warioware inc is crazy in itself because he is easily in the top 2 wario fanboys. Equally crazy is the fact that he also broke up with his bestest buddy in the whole wide world. So what happened??

18-volt's post-boss break on diy showcase depicts 18-volt extending an olive branch of peace and being callously rejected by a devious-looking 9-volt. Of course, 18-volt made this cutscene. Despite this animation showing otherwise there is certainly enough to suggest that he's still at least somewhat bitter about whatever argument led to this:

So, what really happened? Obviously, wario committed a dick move of gargantuan proportions if 9-volt was mad enough to walk out. That being said, 9-volt has had ample opportunities to work with THE Wario. He worked on mega microgames, possibly mega party games depending on how you interpret it, twisted, touched...meanwhile, how many games did 18-volt make? It's not a stretch to imagine that a desperate wario went through his rolodex of "people he's heard of" and went to the guy that 9-volt talks about a lot, and 18-volt leapt at the opportunity to finally make a warioware game. Maybe he was also a little upset that 9-volt never tried to get him a job there to begin with. Meanwhile, 9-volt is probably pissed that 18-volt is doing the kiddie version of scabbing while he's still mad at wario. Truly painful stuff.

So how did they get back together?

Diamond software is run by Manager Joe. Manager Joe does not slack off. Manager Joe runs 5 businesses in one afternoon, and is so punctual that mona literally shoots at a fleet of police cars just to get to his workplace on time. You'll remember that wario, allegedly, never does any work. He slacks off. But you know who else loooooves slacking off?

I think that, unlike wario, manager joe actually tried to manage a game company. And NOBODY is used to that. Nobody is used to deadlines, or formal work meetings, or work emails (I said WORK emails, jimmy t), or anything that can't be accurately labeled as "hanging out with the boys". (Except for mona, who if you'll note in the last forum screenshot, has the best-loved games in diamond software. Mona's games are consistently really good anyways, but I wonder if in this case it's an indicator that she was more acclimated to the fast-paced work environments of manager joe.)

I think that's what made everyone come running back to wario. Manager joe is a nice guy, but despite everyone's qualms with wario they are all very wario-like themselves. They jump at the chance to make a profit and they'll jump even higher for a chance to just goof off. And it just isn't the same without the guy who is exploiting their labor all the time. Toxic workplaces FTW!

[zerogate]

An ant is born with all the genetic equipment it needs to take on any role in society. If it is fed one mixture of food by the colony’s nurses, it turns into a soldier—a powerful beast far larger than normal size, equipped with savage jaws, and designed to defend the colony against attack. If it is fed another mixture, it becomes a worker, a small but nimble creature capable of carrying loads many times its own weight. And if it is fed a rare potion reserved for the select few, it can blossom into a queen—the one central creature toward whose preservation all efforts are directed, the only ant who gets the privilege of having children.

Though an ant may have been hatched as a lowly worker, the blueprints for soldier and queen still lie dormant within her. In fact, if the colony’s ruler is killed by marauders or disease, a worker may suddenly blossom with the reproductive powers fate has denied her all her life. She will begin to lay eggs. Leaving her food gathering and housecleaning chores behind, she will exude a substance that instills in passing ants the urge to feed and serve her, for she has ascended to royalty.

In some ways, it is the social organism and its needs that determine the role each of us will play and the many more roles that each of us will never be given the power to act out. How the demands of the larger social beast determine our fate is hinted at by another aspect of the life of ants. Some of these Hymenoptera are lazy and sit around all day doing very little; others work their tails off in the interest of the community. But try separating the ne’er-do-wells from the industrious and setting them up as two new colonies—one composed exclusively of layabouts and the other made up entirely of nose-to-the-grindstone types.

A strange thing happens. In the community of laggards, a large proportion of the lazy little beasts suddenly become imbued with a furious sense of industry. They turn into workers. On the other hand, in the community composed completely of workers, a small portion of the formerly zealous toilers seem overcome with boredom and settle down to spend their days doing nothing. They become the new leisure lovers. Each new colony takes on the shape of the old one.

Human groups go through a similar process. Researcher Richard Savin-Williams spent a season watching summer campers interact. In June, the bunk-mates met for the first time. For roughly an hour, the campers felt each other out, probing each other’s strengths and weaknesses, deciding who would be friends with whom. Then they quickly sorted themselves into a superorganism with a head, limbs, and a tail. One camper became the “alpha male,” the dominant individual, the group leader. Another became the “bully,” a big, strong brute nobody particularly liked. A third became the “joker,” everybody’s good-natured sidekick. And one became the “nerd,” the unathletic, overly eager sort that everyone else felt free to kick around. Like the ants and the embryonic cells, each boy had taken his place in a kind of preordained social blueprint.

Just how preordained that blueprirt was and how much of his potential each boy had to sacrifice to assume his role became clear when another researcher tried an experiment. The scientist assembled a cabin composed entirely of “leaders,” boys who had been dominant, “alpha males” in their old groups. Very quickly, the new cluster sorted itself out according to the familiar pattern. One of the leaders took charge. Another became the bully. A third became the group joker. And one of the formerly commanding lads even became the new group’s nerd.

When the researchers went through the scientific literature to find other data related to their work, they discovered that studies of Chicago gangs in the 1920s had shown these long-gone groups arranging themselves according to an almost identical unconscious plan. The gang members of a bygone era also had their leaders, bullies, jokers, and nerds. Each individual had taken up a position in the superorganism’s unfolding structure. And each had shaped his personality to fit the spot in which he landed.

-- Howard Bloom, The Lucifer Principle: A Scientific Expedition into the Forces of History

[mothwingwritings]

I hope I’m not the only one here on your blog just for the Tokyo revengers content because I never watched Baki should i thought??

I have been very Baki focused as of late, huh? ^^; You are def not the only TokRev fan though, I assure you!  My first really sizable chunk of followers came from my Taiju fic, and though I have been slacking a bit on posting anything TokRev related, I promise you much more is planned/being written currentl. A large chunk of bigger fics I am working on are actually mostly TokRev, I just wanted a lil break and so I focused on smaller stuff for a bit, and pretty much all of that happened to be Baki.

Now, as for if you should watch Baki…

Short answer: Yes!  :D

Thoughtful answer: I think Baki is a very interesting take on the fighting genre, and I do highly recommend it. The saga of the Hanma family is as engrossing as it is entertaining, and there is a colorful cast of characters that support the series that you can’t help but love, hate, or love to hate. I have been kind of waiting for a Baki renaissance for a while now-I feel like other than in Japan, it really isn’t a super popular series and that’s a bit of a shame because it truly is an entertaining watch/read. The Netflix adaptation I think has helped the series a lot (and we are all grateful for it, to see our lovely boys animated so beautifully :)) and put it on the map for newer audiences to enjoy, but I definitely recommend the manga too. It’s a pretty fast read because a large chunk of it is action, but it’s pretty cool to see how Itagaki’s art has changed over the years and also how he has grown and changed as a story teller. Earlier Baki is much different than newer Baki, and some of the characters feel a bit foreign when you go back and reread some of the earlier stuff after being immersed in the newer content.

 Baki also has some very bizarre and downright comical aspects as well that kind of put it on par with JJBA  while making it very charming. The mangaka def adds some quirky flairs to his story telling, which while sometimes I can get a little annoyed/bored/confused with them, I feel like overall they make the experience of watching/reading the series its own unique and fun experience.

And if you love delinquents, Kaoru Hanayama is like… one of the best and coolest delinquents. If you put that man in Toman he would be running the whole gang within days and 90% of the bullshit everyone had to go through in Tokrev probs would have been resolved fairly quickly, if it even happened at all. This man would grind Kisaki to paste in the blink of an eye and I would pay to see it happen. :)

THAT ALL BEING SAID: Not everyone likes Baki, and that’s fine too. I know personally a lot of people are turned off by the art/how the characters look and honestly… That’s valid lol. I remember I once showed my friend a picture of Biscuit and her direct response was “Why does he look like he’s made out of balloons, like a clown constructed him?” LOOOL and often times if my friends mention weird body proportions in comics/manga someone inevitable asks when I am gonna chime in with a Baki manga panel. ^^;  Most of the rest of my friends don’t really have any desire to partake in it though, and a few that have just really weren’t in to it. It’s very heavy on fighting and martial arts, and though the fighting is rather fantastical in a lot of cases, it (usually) doesn’t have supernatural elements or magic involved. So if that seems kind of bleh to you, you may want to avoid it.

Horny answer: Incredibly sexy men who are at least half naked a large majority of the time beating the shit out of each other is very fun, nice, and fulfilling to watch. :)

So I say give it a try if you are interested at all. At the very least, some of the fics on here may make a little more sense.

REGARDLESS THANK YOU FOR BEING HERE!!! Please stay tuned for more TokRev in the future, I have at least one more alphabet ask that is for a Tokrev chara so that may be the first thing I post, but bigger stuff is coming soon too~ <3

[nicked-hatchet]

Transcript:

Never thought I'd read a story that so effectively captures why life in a broken system is worth living

I grew up in Iraq. When people hear this in the US, where I now live, they usually say: "Wow...that must have been hard."

I mean? I guess? I've been a couple hundred meters from ISIS bombings. The government is spectacularly dysfunctional. You never know when the electricity might be on. Most summer days are 50 C. The tap water is salty.

And I also love the wonky little generators people wire everywhere. I love the weird shark statue with Saddam torn off the top. I love the guys fishing in the river despite the fact that it's greenish black. I love how excited everyone gets about the government building one tiny new overpass. I also love the random overpass sitting in the desert connected to zero roads. I love hearing our friend giggle as my dad ribs him for driving a Toyota Hilux, a favorite of terrorists transporting weapons. I love stray cats that carefully pick their way over the barbed wire on our walls. I love the people who run towards a bombing instead of away because they want to help the survivors. I love the guy who fixed my glasses with a wrong-sized screw because he lived through sanctions and doesn't need dumb things like correctly-sized screws.

But its almost impossible to explain this to most Americans. They picture a normal Iraqi life and think it would be their worst nightmare. So I'm used to just not sharing that part of my life, or ever seeing it in media.

So this game totally caught me off guard. We're in a setting in between apocalypses, starring an alcoholic fuckup from a corrupt occupier-aligned police force, who at best might keep a couple people from dying in a gang war. It's pretty bleak. It's also incredibly fucking joyful.

Just the prose alone is so sincere. You can't write stuff this goofy, flowery, beautiful, dumb, and moving ironically. The writers clearly love words far out of proportion to how much they might be able to actually change fundamentally broken systems.

And all the characters, the worldbuilding details, the interruptions from Shivers and Esprit de Corps, hell, all the bits and pieces of your brain. There's so much attention and thus so much love in this game for humans and what humans do. Doesn't matter if they all might get shot, blown up, or wiped clean by pale in a couple of years. Doesn't matter if they brought it all on themselves. Right here, in this moment, they are human, and so they matter.

I feel like this game gets why my life in Iraq was worth living. Even if a lot of my Americans think the world sure would be nicer and simpler if Iraqis just didn't exist.

I thought I had signed up for a fun 20-30 hour diversion, not the feeling of being loved?!

an Iraqi gamer's beautiful review of Disco Elysium

[josiebelladonna]

when i was in high school, i read this book called “the monkey wrench gang”. my brother read it when he was in high school and then both my parents read it, and then it was passed on to me, about these people who thwart urban development in the name of saving the earth, or more specifically, “throwing a monkey wrench into the works and grind the whole operation to a halt.” it’s about sabotaging and it was way ahead of its time, too (at this point, i’ll choose it over ~greta thunberg~ or any of you on here complaining about late-stage capitalism any day, mainly because the author edward abbey had more balls to say “don’t just fuck the system, burn it down” back in the 70s, and also because thunberg and most of tumblr is openly antisemitic now but i digress).

one of the characters, “seldom seen” smith, often said “time to get to work” when there was pollution of epic proportions, havoc on the environment, or what have you right before their eyes.

flaunting herself, polluting the system and what was otherwise a good but precarious cause all because some girl in california is flirting *hard* with her ~partner~ (i have a couple of friends who do rescue work and they don’t tout themselves like she does, which tells me everything i need to know; my dog was technically a rescue, too, i rescued her from my brother, someone who pushed her to the side).

so, yeah. it was never about the cats.

it’s because alex likes me and he’s always sweet to me, and i’m always going to be sweet to him even when he pisses me off because that’s just going to happen. it’s because i’m perceived as a threat (even though you’re an idiot if you think this because there’s nothing i can do outside of fantasy and the interwebs). it’s because you’re insecure and when i write this out, i actually feel a little better about my own insecurities because at least i won’t sink as low as you. it’s because you call yourself a very offensive term in hopes to “reclaim” it but you still look like a damn fool simply because of your level of privilege. it’s because you’re a fucking geek and believe me, that is not a compliment.

i’m already dedicating kinktober to jumblr but we have here another dimension to it.

so…

it’s time to get to work.

[allthemusic]

Week ending: 15th March

Back to multiple songs, one of which is a cover, and one of which I definitely know - in fact, one of the lines has become practically proverbial, which is how you know a song's made it into the collective consciousness. Or how many other songs do you know that have become a sort of call-and-response greeting?

Memories Are Made of This - Dave King (peaked at Number 5)

I didn't massively love this song in its original Dean Martin form, but I didn't hate it, and a speedy google tells me that Dave King was a British actor and comedian, who got his first ever break in a comedy group called Morton Fraser's Harmonica Gang, which means I'm already in his corner from the get-go. So we shall see!

I can tell already from the intro that the speed has been upped a bit, and a jolly trombone added, both of which are very welcome additions. It turns it from a bit of a lecture into a swinging song you could genuinely dance to. And the little changes continue as the song wears on, with the addition of some church bells after the wedding bells lyric, and a separate female set of backing singers who take over the more religious with His blessings from above section while Dave steps back and briefly takes over the backing singers' lines. It's an effective little swap, and all the more so for the way it avoids slowing the song, which I remember not appreciating when Dean did it.

These are all little things, but they're enough to massively improve the song, at least for me. I was ready for Dave to add some comedy beats or a sort of comic sensibility to this à la Max Bygraves, but it turns out he didn't even need to, which I respect. This is just a solid cover, no comedy needed.

I would also be remiss not to mention that Dave gives us what I think is our first (but surely not our last) overlap between the words of British popular music and British soaps, having played a character called Clifford Duckworth in Coronation Street. He also appeared on an episode of Heartbeat in the 1990s, which is notable only because it's a police procedural set in the 1950s and 1960s, and what song did they play over the top of his exit? If you guessed Memories Are Made of This, well done! It's the kind of twistiness I really like, so kudos to their casting department, I guess?

See You Later, Alligator - Bill Haley & His Comets (7)

Come on, you know this song. Just about everybody I know, even in 2024, even in the UK, could quote you the response when somebody says "see you later alligator", and I'm sure a good proportion of them could also hum you the tune of this song. It was a phrase that was apparently already in currency when the song came out, but the song popularised it internationally. And honestly, I can see why.

There's just such a sense of fun to the track, from the pitched-up See you later, alligator line at the start, to the silly playground rhyminess of it, to the relish with which Bill launches in with each wellllllll and the way that the saxophone echoes his lines. It's not a song that takes itself too seriously, and I love that playfulness.

With all this, it's easy enough to ignore the fact that that yes, that iconic line is a break-up line from a cheating lady! From the moment that Bill saw my baby walkin' with another man today, to her iconic brush-off, to the even more devastating line where she tells Bill Can't you see you're in my way now / Don't you know you cramp my style, this song pulls no punches whatsoever. This woman, whoever she is, is going straight for the jugular!

Which makes it all the more satisfying when she comes crawling back and apologising, and Bill, now recovered from his heartbreak, can turn her words back on her, calling her out for how she doesn't really mean it, and bidding her farewell in the same callous way. His glee at this reveral makes the whole enterprise worth it, honestly. I particularly love the wild energy of Bill's final so long, that's all, goodbye line! He's just so glad to be shot of this woman, and you know what, good for him. It's a good, satisfying story, one you could absolutely find in a pop song today - think Forget You by CeeLo Green, or something of that ilk.

It's also catchy as heck, which, as I've probably said before, is really the main thing that matters in these early rock and roll songs. They're music for dancing along to, not for listening too hard to, and this song is repetitive, silly and has a heck of a riff to build on, with the way that the melody bounces between Bill and the saxophone. Plus, we get that sax / drum / guitar break in the middle, where the sax in particular cuts loose. It rocks, and I can absolutely imagine the youth going wild when it comes it!

It's also a very intense, full sound. I've noticed that about these rock and roll numbers - there's no space around the vocals or quiet bits, like it's been engineered for maximum volume, even on tinny radio or a jukebox. We're a way away from Phil Spector and the Wall of Sound, but we're already gunning for maximum loudness, and I kind of love it?

Well, those were two quite different songs, and while I did enjoy both, I think the sheer volume and dancability has to take it this time. While the adults are getting maudlin about marriage and kids, the youths are having all the fun, it seems.

Favourite song of the bunch: See You Later Alligator

[amazildoessomethingstupid]

Chapter 84: Scenic Route

So with that out of the way ONTO THE NEXT CHAPTER: chapter 84 Scenic Route! Which if there was a runt of the litter for the Paulo Show, this would be it. Not to say that it’s bad or anything, it’s wonderful and really sweet, and much like all the other chapters it has a really strong and memorable character moment in it.  The problem is… this chapter has a certain heavy weight attached to it that… It just couldn’t shake off. Even back then when I read this chapter I couldn’t fully appreciate it, because of the unshakable knowledge that this… would be the last time Tess got to hang out with the gang. And worst of all, even here she wasn’t allowed to shine.

The chapter is centered around Tess inviting the gang (minus Sue) to a picnic to a familiar riverside park. With callbacks a plenty for old readers to enjoy! Look!

They’re gonna race along the trees, just like that one time when-

Oh… yeah… Well thankfully that doesn’t happen here! Instead we’re treated to some nice subtle nods to Abbey and Daisy’s relationship being a little shaky still with Abbey seeming to be absentminded throughout the chapter, if not a bit negligent towards Daisy.

Honestly a most of this chapter is just the kids goofing around and… well… acting like kids.  Which is refreshing! I really like it, the chapter serves as a sweet reprieve from the heavier chapters that we’ve had and it’s nice seeing the gang just have fun.  And yes, that does include you…

Mike… And before you ask, no I am not going to have a gush session over Mike.  He hasn’t EARNED it yet.  I may have accepted Mike’s failures as a decent human being, but that does not mean he is FORGIVEN! It is nice though, and I wish to reiterate that yes.  Inbetween all these skipped over pages, THERE IS GOLD HERE!

Oh that Paulo~ So the set up is paid off as Abbey’s negligence ends up getting him left behind, meanwhile Daisy does accidentally get hurt, which leading to her staying put with Paulo as company while the rest of the gang goes to get Abbey leading to the actual meat of the chapter as Paulo and Daisy sit and talk, thinking about where they are in life and what the future may hold. It’s a really nice and sweet scene… So nice they did it twice but we’re not talking about that. POSITIVITY! So overall this chapter is solid.  On its own, it serves as a great nothing chapter that shows that the kids are alright and looking to a brighter future, although for some it’s not so certain.  If this chapter came out now, one could argue that it’s shipbaiting for Paulo and Daisy, but to me their dialogue came across more as siblings that care about each other, with both seeing the best in the other with a bittersweet tinge of sorrow as they see how they’re both headed on different paths. It’s really nice, but

But I would be remised if I didn’t bring up the one gripe I do have about the Paulo show that this chapter just happened to fall in line with an anecdote I have.  Because, while I was going through my 2 years of illiteracy I did actually take a look at a page just because I heard grumblings over the art style.  And I figured I’d take a glance and see what all the hubbub was about, and it just so happened to be this page! I remember it because, my exact words were, “Wow! This is actually pretty neat!  Y’know the proportions did make the characters’ ages seem a bit older and ambiguous, but this is actually pretty cool!  These proportions, the washed out colors… This is a really good way of artistically showing a flashback without just blatantly using cloud panels!  This is great! Good job Taeshi!” and the old dogs I talked to at the time just went:

And sadly the chibification of characters was the one thing that actually did carry over from The Paulo Show. But… I’m forgetting something aren’t I?  Did you notice there was something missing from that summary?  Oh yeah, TESS!

Despite her technically being in it the whole way through aside from the Paulo and Daisy scene, Tess really didn’t get to stand out here.  Sure, we get a nice heartfelt bit where she says how much she enjoyed just being there with the gang, but all it really does is remind us of the unfulfilled promise that this character gave.  And it makes my heart ache as I knew this was the end for The Rich Girl, the OG Golden Girl, my favorite lie… Tess. For context, Tess was a PIVOTAL supporting character in Volume 1 for BCB.  In fact, a number of great character moments, chapters, and arcs can be traced back to her involvement. From the Christmas Chapter

To setting up the Acapulco Arc!

Her purpose in the toolbox of characters in BCB, was very versatile.  Setting up adventures, new conflicts, and at times, serving as an audience surrogate to ask questions about the other characters’ history and allow exposition naturally.

 She had a spunk to her that made her likable, a complicated history that made her sympathetic, and a perspective on life and drama that set her apart from the rest of the pack. As the oldest member in the group she brought a more mature perspective to a lot of the drama and scenes that the kids would get into, but she also had this childish excitement and eagerness to be involved with the gang.  She wanted to see them grow and help them become better people.  And that falls right into the biggest involvement she had, when she had her relationship…

With Paulo! Serving as a positive force in his life, Tess dating Paulo was a perfect match as two punky kids trying to make it in this cruel world.  And with Tess’ maturity being a great opportunity for her to build him up to follow suit, it was perfect. Absolutely perfect!  Except for one liiiiiittle snag, a small chink in her immaculate armor, and no it wasn’t that she wanted more out of Paulo that he couldn’t understand. You see, Tess was afflicted with a terrible, debilitating disease when she was born into this world.  An awful condition that she had to deal with early in her life… She was a Fan Character.  A death sentence, for most cursed with such a cruel fate.  But she showed so much strength in what she was able to do in those early chapters, that we all hoped that maybe she could beat her condition maybe she had one last trick up her sleeve, one last hurrah, one last adventure, one last send off to carry us through and remember her by… But alas the damage was already done, and in this chapter we see her succumb to the bitter sudden end.

The promise of suspense in Volume 2.  Setting up Tess’ final year with the gang to be a senior year to remember would sadly only lead to her being muscled out in favor of more heavy drama.  Her presence becoming less and less, as she was forced into irrelevance.  From being a powerful force in moving these characters, with deep connections to all them, to being just a shadow of her former self as she would become nothing more than a side-note in Volume 2, and an occasional speedbump in Volume 3. The fact was the fireball, take charge, punk rock girl we all once knew and loved was dead.  She died years ago.  And this chapter just shows…

She was the last to know. 

9/10

Gone but not forgotten;

Replaced, but forever remains

[maelstrom-of-emotions]

I just made a post on this, and I agree with you OP. I don't mind fanon portrayals—do what you want, it's supposed to be fun—but it becomes off-putting because it gets so out of hand, that people actually start to consider it canon.

(I'm not even kidding, I have a friend who has read all the Harry Potter books multiple times, and she was like: ‘I wonder how they even passed school, it must have been due to favoritism.’

And I was like: ‘You did read the books, right?’)

I feel like this characterization is very, very outdated in its beliefs. Because it sort of insinuates that all smart people must be bookish nerds who have no idea how to have fun, something I feel like we've passed years ago. Now, I don't doubt that there are smart people who are always studying, and I've met my fair share of them as well, but it would be unfair to say that those are the only smart people to exist.

And speaking of which, we can't really classify intelligence and/or smartness as that's quite a broad topic, but in the ‘top of the class’ spectrum we're going with today, I've had classmates who were top of our class and were considered super-smart, topper children and they made marshmallow castles and debated on whether to dye someone's hair neon blue or sparkly pink — incredibly important discussions.

So, I think we need to let go of this idea that smart students are people who have their noses in books, no-nonsense, rule-abiding killjoys, the person who takes a light joke way too seriously and start explaining the science about it type of people. Because that's honestly stereotypical and a very narrow way of thinking.

Now, there comes the matter of : ‘That's all fine and dandy, but surely you're blowing this out of proportion? I mean, is there even any proof about this?’ And I see your point, after all, fanon becomes canon so much and so easily it's hard to tell what's real and what's not, and if one presents a case, it is required to bring proof, and so proof you shall have.

“It took them the best part of three years to work out how to do it. Your father and Sirius here were the cleverest students in the school, and lucky they were, because the Animagus transformation can go horribly wrong — one reason the Ministry keeps a close watch on those attempting to do it. Peter needed all the help he could get from James and Sirius.” 

Remus Lupin, Prisoner of Azkaban.

They managed to become Animagi, one of the most impressive bits of magic, considered so dangerous that the Ministry keeps tabs on it. And it took these teenagers, three years to do such a feat.

“Look, Harry, what you’ve got to understand is that your father and Sirius were the best in the school at whatever they did.” 

Remus Lupin, Order of the Phoenix.

“Black and Potter. Ringleaders of their little gang. Both very bright, of course — exceptionally bright, in fact — but I don't think we've ever had such a pair of troublemakers —”

Minerva McGonagall, Prisoner of Azkaban.

And some might consider this over-confidence but they were both calm as can be after the OWLS, and were confident that they'd do well.

Well, I thought that paper was a piece of cake,' he heard Sirius say. ‘I’ll be surprised if I don’t get “Outstanding” on it at least.

You might,' said Lupin darkly from behind his book. ‘We’ve still got Transfiguration, if you’re bored you could test me. Here ...' and he held out his book. But Sirius snorted. ‘I don’t need to look at that rubbish, I know it all.'

From Order of The Phoenix.

Not to mention these are the same people who created the Marauders Map which keeps tabs on everyone in Hogwarts, what they're doing, where they are, and even Polyjuice Potions and Invisibility Cloaks can't fool it — as seen by Barty Crouch Junior and Harry's wandering respectively. Quite some impressive bit of magic from children.

Now, they're not flawless characters, I've never claimed they are. In fact, as cliché as this sounds, it's their character traits that could be considered flaws are what make them interesting. But, it's not fair to just only consider those characteristics and write them off as stupid fools who have no clue what they're talking about and probably had to ask for other's students help.

I like to think—and this is a completely personal opinion—that it's their intellect that made them infuriating. Because, it's one thing to have a brainless prankster, but it's another thing to have someone who is smart and has fun. No wonder people had/have mixed opinions, it just feels very well-rounded. Something we're not used to seeing in characters. As they are usually very one-dimensional.

Sure, it's fun to pair the class clown with the nerd, as most characterizations of Jily do, and no shame if you do, I don't want to come off as though I'm bashing anyone's portrayals. But, explore other dynamics as well. It's quite fun, I've tried doing that for a couple of months, and my brother in christ I cannot tell you how more fun I'm having with fanfics.

James and Sirius's characterization in fanon remind me of how Harry and Ron are treated. How people think that they barely pass, when in the books, I'm pretty sure that it mentions that they “passed with flying colors” at some point. I suppose, in comparison to Hermione, Harry and Ron don't seem all that studious — but, remember what we just talked about? Don't stereotype. To quote what I said in another post: Just 'cause they don't study twenty-four/seven doesn't mean they're stupid, jeez.

Thank you for coming to my Ted-Talk. And if you have any other examples please let me know, I didn't have time to search for all of them.

James and Sirius aren't dumb, James and Sirius wouldn't be clueless in class, James and Sirius are smart and talented. Stop trying to make them dumb because what? They like pranks? Stop pushing the idiot James and Sirius agenda.

[feanorianethicsdepartment]

So obviously the entire Feanorian Host as a whole is a bit intense about the cause, but I feel like there’s different levels of devotion between their individual followers.

So my question to you is, from least to most intense, which Feanorions followers are the most cult-like and why?

the cultishness absolutely varies by region! i'm being a little facetious when i call them an out-and-out cult, but fëanorian minion culture certainly has... tendencies. the isolationism, the way loyalty to the group supersedes absolutely everything, what they do to those who 'betray the cause,' not to mention how absolutely psyched they get at the opportunity to do murder. still, the precise way that manifests, as well as how intense they are about, does change a lot depending on where you are in east beleriand. surprisingly it doesn't track that much with how tolerant of outsiders each subdivision is, which is most evidenced by:

the gap: maglor and his cronies are easily the most xenophobic part of the host, which is both a cause and a consequence of them having probably the least regular contact with non-fëanorians out of all the armies of east beleriand. paradoxically, this gives them very little incentive to go full cultist; much of the deliberately off-putting stuff the rest of the host does is partially to distinguish them from the outgroup, which isn't something you need to do when everyone you deal with is either part of the gang or an obvious enemy. they still do the elaborate facial deformations, they still have a bit of a Thing about fire, but the thing that's holding them together is much less utter devotion to the cause and much more the organic friendships and kinship bonds between riders

there's a few other reasons why the folk of the gap are relatively less culty. the gap is sparsely populated to begin with, and most of its population is at least semi-nomadic; it's a lot harder to cultivate that kind of obsession when everyone's off doing their own thing most of the time. while the gap doesn't have the highest headcount of mithrim sindar - as stated above, its population is tiny even by east beleriand's low standards - it has more mithrim sindar as a proportion of the population than anywhere else in east beleriand, and the culture of the gap has this big mithrim sindarin focus on community and clan to counteract the noldorin tendency to sacrifice everything for grand ideals. the general lack of new recruits from outside the host only serves to intensify all of this; the riders of the gap fight together because of the spiderweb of social and personal obligations that link them all together, not necessarily because of the cause (though that is still a factor, i want to be clear.) this fairly isolated society held together by individual and familial bonds stands in stark contrast to:

himlad: the thing about celegorm and curufin's people is that they're up against the fuzzy border between east and west beleriand, between maedhros' definitely-not-a-kingdom and the finarfinians' section of fingolfin's defensive line. as such, they're more or less constantly in contact with the outside world, coordinating troop movements, sharing information and resources, recruiting from the same sindarin populations. there's still a clear delineation between the fëanorians and the fingolfinians, partially because there's a lot of mountains between their major centres and partially because this lot actually do have an other to define themselves against and thus a reason to emphasise their own identity, but there's a lot of chatter and petty squabbling and philosophical discussion and a steady regular connection to the outside world counteracting the worst of the cultishness. unlike pretty much any other part of the host, the himlad minions never really lose the sense that they belong to a greater community of elves

which explains what they do in nargothrond. i don't believe that literally every single one of their followers abandoned celegorm and curufin, but i'd buy it was a lot of them, maybe even most of them. it helps that it's specifically the finarfinians their lords are betraying, the people they've - perhaps not fought side by side with, but who definitely always had their backs. even without that, though, the very existence of that relationship means they're used to working with people from outside the host, getting to know them, empathising with them, which is a pretty hefty counterbalance to the specific the-whole-world's-out-to-get-us undercurrent of internal propaganda. by no means was it an instant switch, or an easy one; after finrod got ousted there was a ton of interhost politicking and debate and the occasional brawl as everyone tried to figure out what to do. but the fact that the question was even open says a lot, i think. that probably wouldn't have been the case even in:

thargelion: caranthir’s domain is the most heavily populated part of east beleriand, and the settlement at lake helevorn is the closest thing it has to a city. a significant portion of that population aren’t fëanorians by even the loosest definition; they’re dwarven traders or miscellaneous humans or sindar far enough from the front line of the siege they can just keep on with their lives the way they always have. the fëanorians (and here, more than anywhere else, that’s a fuzzy category; this is the easiest part of the host to join, and the easiest to leave) are mixed in with all these groups, negotiating supplies, managing tribal levies, patrolling the roads, state stuff. out of all the subdivisions of the host, the thargelion minions are the hardest to distinguish from outsiders.

to keep their ingroup coherent, then, they actively mark themselves out. the minions in thargelion are probably the loudest about their collective identity and the cause and the joy of bathing in your enemies’ blood and all that. they have weird midnight rituals and purpose-built meeting halls and elaborate coded language, and while being overly tyrannical about it would be bad for business there’s definitely a sense that they form a tightly knit core which looks after its own above all else. that image is somewhat complicated by the aforementioned blurry edges of the thargelion host - is the sindarin bureaucrat who’s never touched a weapon in her life but plays a vital role in the military administration a fëanorian? is the noldorin freeholder who pays very little attention to the day-to-day minutia of the war but keeps his sword sharp for the hour it is needed? - but the alliance of old soldiers at its heart is a clear and palpable thing, especially when you can feel its eyes. when their hackles aren’t up the minions are perfectly happy to mingle socially with the other peoples of thargelion, though, which sets them apart from:

himring: on the frontlines of the siege of angband, with all the nightmares of the north pressing directly on their spirits, maedhros’ followers stoke the flames of their devotion high. the warriors of the cold fortress are less showy about their fervor than their counterparts in thargelion or even himlad, but the ardour underlying it is markedly more intense; they don’t have much in the way of over-the-top rituals, but they have vast amounts of ironclad unspoken rules they follow unwaveringly. they’re polite to outsiders, sometimes even welcoming, but you never forget that you are, in fact, an outsider, and that himring and its satellite forts form an internal world others can never quite see. even to other fëanorians, they come across as aloof

their fervour also tends to manifest as a deep personal loyalty that borders on reverence towards maedhros himself. all the brothers command respect, of course, they’re all magnetic personalities who draw people in and bind them together, but maedhros’ minions are on a whole other level. they mythologise him, tell stories of his deeds like he personally holds the line against morgoth, treasure the slightest contact with him, hold being called to his direct service as the highest honour of all. most of the new recruits to the himring host are brought in by the vast pull of maedhros’ reputation, from all across beleriand and even from the north. but no matter where they came from, they all understand that they will fight and live and die together beneath the banner of their lord. which is a bit weird, even by fëanorian standards, but they’re nowhere near as bad as:

ossiriand: amrod and amras’ henchelves are considered by the rest of the host to be notably psychotic, which is saying a lot. the minions of ossiriand are utterly terrifying, absolutely fanatical about the cause, the most bloodthirsty murder cult in east beleriand. you’d think the green-elves they share their territory with would act as a calming influence, but in practice the two groups mostly avoid each other, because the green-elves naturally prefer to stay away from these nutbags. you’d think being away from the front lines would lessen the need to solidify their identity through cult nonsense, but in practice it gives them the free time to go full gonzo. most of the horrible rumours you hear about the fëanorians in the rest of beleriand are either specific quirks of the ossiriand minions, or most egregrious in the ossiriand minions. they have an orc pit

or so they’d have you believe. the fëanorians in ossiriand effectively serve as the host’s intelligence division, scouts and spies and saboteurs. a lot of their work is clandestine by its very nature, and they tend to be pretty secretive about what they actually do. half the things you hear about them are probably disinformation, lies they’re deliberately spreading to make themselves sound scarier. hopefully, at least. as anyone who’s chatted with an ossiriand minion knows, they are both eagerly awaiting the fulfilment of the oath, and already preparing for what will come after

(this paradigm does break down after the siege is broken and the union of maedhros fails and the dregs of the armies of east beleriand wind up stuck in the same ever-shrinking territory. still, i think the origins of the survivors are... interesting. the people of the gap were almost completely wiped out in the bragollach, the people of himlad mostly jumped ship with celebrimbor, even the people of thargelion took heavy losses in the nirnaeth. but the people of himring stood firm around their lord, and the people of ossiriand were never really frontline fighters in the first place. minions from the more cultish parts of the host tend to survive longer, and in greater numbers. i feel this could have... consequences)

[parkerslatte]

Years Passed [Chapter One]

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1.6k

Part Summary: After a decade of living in England, Y/N finally moves back to America to be closer to her family.

prologue / next chapter

Years Passed Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Taglist

***

CHAPTER ONE: FAMILIAR FACES

Y/N was always one to follow her dreams. Originally her dream was to become an astronaut but she soon found that she wasn’t smart enough for that. That’s when she found herself falling down the route of art. Y/N had always been a gifted artist since she was a child. While everyone in her class was drawing stick figures and calling it a day, Y/N would take time to get the proportions of the body right. People would always say she was trying too hard or just trying to get attention. Y/N didn’t care - she was doing what she loved.

It wasn’t until high school where she began to take art more seriously, people would come to her to do art commissions. At first Y/N refused, she didn’t want to charge people for her art but once she realised how much she could make from it, doing art commissions became her job. Throughout high school it was her main source of income. However, it wasn’t until the end of high school where Y/N decided that art was the thing she definitely wanted to go down. 

Opening up her own gallery became her dream. A couple of years after breaking up with Spencer Reid, Y/N moved to England. She didn’t exactly know why, all she knew was that she wanted a fresh start. Y/N moved into a small flat in Cornwall. It was perfect for what Y/N needed. She spent just over ten years of her life living in Cornwall and Y/N couldn’t be happier, however there were many instances where she missed her family. Y/N could never afford to constantly go between England and America and neither could her family. A lot of her time was spent on phone calls and video calls with her family. 

It was only recently that Y/N moved back to America. Six months to be exact. After nearly eleven years of being away from her family constantly, Y/N decided to move back to America. She didn’t make the decision lightly, it took her many months to come to the conclusion. Y/N had many friends in England. She had her small art gallery. Most importantly, her daughter had her friends in England and her school - everything she had ever known. 

Y/N’s daughter, Harper, was seven and she was the light of Y/N’s life. Everything she did was for Harper. Y/N didn’t want to pry Harper away from her home, but she wanted her to get to know her family. When Y/N told Harper the news, Harper was excited, she had always been a curious girl and moving to a new country was exciting for her. 

“Mummy!” Harper yelled, running out of her room to Y/N who was sitting on the couch. Her daughter’s accent was a little messed up. Some words would come out in an American accent and some in a British accent - more specifically the Cornish dialect. 

Y/N smiled upon seeing her daughter. As she ran, the wild curls on top of her head bounced up and down. Harper approached Y/N and climbed onto the couch next to her. Y/N wrapped her arm around her daughter and pulled her in close to her side.

“What’s got you so energetic?” Y/N questioned. 

“Can we go to the park?” Harper asked, “You said that we could go today.”

Y/N checked the time on the clock on the wall, “You really want to go at ten in the morning? You don’t want to wait until midday then we can go out for lunch?”

“Can we go now? I’m bored.” Harper draped herself over Y/N’s lap dramatically.

Y/N shook her head, a smile on her face. Harper was definitely one for dramatics, something she inherited from her father.

“Okay, how about this?” Y/N started, “We wait until eleven and we can invite Melanie and Toby and we can go and get lunch with them?”

Harper nodded her head vigorously causing Y/N to chuckle slightly. The only reason as to why Y/N wanted to wait longer to go out was because she was waiting for Harper’s birthday present to turn up. It wasn’t her birthday for another three weeks but Y/N always wanted to leave time in case the package never turned up in case she needed to buy something else. 

“Why don’t you go and play in your room and I’ll come and get you when it’s time to go?”

Harper nodded before running off to her bedroom down the hall. Checking the clock again, Y/N realised the package wouldn’t be here for another half hour. Deciding she had time to kill, Y/N made her way to her bedroom to get changed. If she was going to be out for most of the day, she decided that being in sweatpants and an old shirt wasn’t going to look so good. 

Picking out a simple sundress, Y/N got changed in a flash before she found herself seated on the couch again. Over the last few days, Y/N had found herself being more tired than usual. Everything she did drained the life out of her, obviously she wanted to run around and play with Harper but she would tire out quickly. Harper would try not to get sad about it as she understood why Y/N got like this once a year. Y/N wasn’t going to explain it until Harper got a little older but she understood perfectly. 

Grabbing her phone off of the coffee table, Y/N pressed on Melanie’s contact. Melanie had been Y/N’s friend for a while. They met a year before Y/N had moved to England, due to their long distance friendship, Y/N had expected that they would fall out of contact but they never did. Melanie was godmother to Harper and Y/N was godmother to Melanie’s son Toby. 

The phone rang a few times before Melanie picked up. 

“Hello?” Melanie’s voice came through the phone.

“Hey Mel!” Y/N greeted.

“Hey, what’s up?”

“Well Harper and I are going to the park in an hour and I was wondering if you and Toby would like to join us?” 

“We’d love to,” Melanie answered, “Toby’s been pulling my leg asking when he would see Harper next.”

Y/N chuckled, “We’ll meet you at the park if that’s alright.”

“That’s more than fine, we’ll see you then.” Melanie responded before hanging up the phone. 

Y/N tossed her phone back on the couch and slumped back down. She could easily turn on the television and watch something but she didn’t feel up to it. Getting back up from the couch, Y/N headed over to Harper’s room and pushed it open. Her daughter was hunched over her small desk, scribbling away on a piece of paper. Y/N smiled at the sight. Her daughter had taken after her in artistic skill, always having the dream that one day she would be as good as her mother. 

“Hey Harp.” Y/N said, entering her room. 

“Mummy, look I’ve done a drawing!” Harper said excitedly holding up the picture, “It’s the same one you painted.”

Y/N took the drawing out of Harper’s hands and held it up. Y/N had painted a landscape of a forest a few weeks ago and Harper had copied it almost exactly. Every time Y/N would do a commission or a painting for fun, there would always be smaller versions of the same painting but made with colour pencil. Sometimes Harper would sit next to Y/N while she was painting and they would do it together. 

Y/N always enjoyed doing art with Harper by her side. She would constantly ask questions about it and Y/N was always more than happy to answer. From sitting next to her and watching her paint, Harper had been teaching herself how to paint. Y/N would always offer to help her but Harper always refused the help, letting Y/N only watch from a distance. Their whole house was filled with paintings from both Y/N and Harper. 

“It’s incredible, Harp.” Y/N said crouching down, “Even better than mine.”

“No it isn't, your one is better.” Harper said, “Yours are always better. I want to be like you when I grow up.”

Y/N pressed a kiss to the side of Harper’s head, “I don’t want you to be like me, I want you to be like you. You are going to grow up and be an extraordinary person, like you already are.”

Harper hugged Y/N tightly, “I love you mummy.”

“I love you too, sweet girl.” Y/N pressed a kiss to the side of her head once more before she heard the doorbell ring. 

“Is that Melanie and Toby?” Harper questioned.

“No, it’s someone else, Mel and Toby are meeting us at the park,” Y/N explained, “Now why don’t you clean up in here before we head out.”

Harper nodded before she began clearing everything away. Y/N headed out of her room and opened the front door. Y/N expected it to be Harper’s present however she was greeted by two people - more specifically FBI agents. Y/N looked between the two, very obviously confused. 

When Y/N looked up at the male agent, her eyes widened the slightest amount. His hair was curlier and he had a slight stubble. He looked as if he filled out his clothes more as well. Even if it had been more than a decade, she could recognise him anywhere. 

Spencer Reid.

PERMANENT SPENCER REID TAGLIST

@spenxerslut  @averyhotchner @drayshadow @moviequeen51 @spencer-reid-am-i-right @ssavanessa22 @amurderofcrowsinatrenchcoat @mbjackie @jklemps @reformedmoneyshovel @nomajdetective @jesuisbenny @jooniehomie @spencerreid-187 @onyourfingertips @uhuhuh @rubyhi208-42 @archer561 @c0rpsecore @sweetandsunny @zoeygraygubler @algonsa @jswessie187 @shemarmooresfedora @kaz-2y567 @alfonsais @aikrus @nani-2305 @death-becomes-her @sarejane @isabelle-558 @measure-in-pain @the-nerd-gang @manuosorioh @luredwithpretzels @ceeellewrites @totallyclearwitch @jekkles @this-is-doctor-and-its-calm @sarahpaulsonlov3r @periwinklemax @kuolonsyoja @heartmira @hoodpankow @parahmur

SERIES TAGLIST

​@its-9pm @nani-2305 @reidsfish @mochionly @spencerswildestdreams1 @magnetas @matthewscumslut @madsgraygubler @bakugouswh0r3 @rexit-mo @shinshankai

[zeta-in-de-walls]

What's the most common misconception you hear about c!tommy?

Hey! Really interesting question, cheers. I’d say that there’s quite a few misconceptions floating around: that he never apologises, that he hasn’t developed, that his exile was his fault, that he’s the main source of conflict on the server, that all he does is steal, and plenty of other stuff.

But the one I probably hear most is how Tommy supposedly values music discs over people.

This one is such a mess of misconceptions. I’ve even heard it said that Doomsday happened because Tommy cared about his discs too much and he was wrong because you shouldn’t value items over human lives. I hate this one because it misunderstands Tommy enough so you can dismiss him because its such a weak position. 

Anyway, I understand why its so messy. Tommy throughout season 2 is frequently in a state of uncertainty and is being driven by emotions and isn’t thinking clearly after so much suffering. He says a lot of stuff he doesn’t mean and is very suggestible. Most of his talking about the discs is done when he’s lonely and thinks his friends don’t care for him anymore, that they’re better off without him.

Now, let’s be clear: music discs are something Tommy’s character loves. His happiness every time he listens to one feels very genuine. He’s had so many emotional moments listening to his discs with others and even considers his bench his happy space. He likes them and invites others to listen with him. These items hold no intrinsic value, they’re of no worth to anyone else besides how much they mean to Tommy. The only reason to take them is to try to control him specifically. That’s the original reason Dream took them in the original disc war - to punish Tommy after he caused some trouble. 

And the original disc war was fun for Tommy. He found the battle to be exciting and enjoyed trying to outplay Dream with his best friend Tubbo and anyone he could get on his side. It was like a fun game to him. One that, while chaotic, no one really got hurt from at all - the only one who really suffered was Tommy himself, who put stuff on the line for it and had his whole base dug up. (And Tubbo who got dragged in and lost items, but he was initially a very willing partner who found the conflict fun too.) 

And then we have Dream, who traded away L’Manburg’s independence for Tommy’s discs, an interesting decision which meant only Tommy really paid the price that day. Everyone remarked on how unusually selfless it was of Tommy. That day was a victory for everyone else, but bittersweet for him. Wilbur consoled him, saying they could get them back and then they’d have even more history and sentimental value attached to them, having been what paid for L’Manburg’s freedom. Tommy was encouraged and so the game continued.

Dream over this time became not just Tommy’s enemy, but his friend. They had fights and conflicts but it was more like a fun game. As they also did stuff like make a church together. Eventually Tommy managed to steal Mellohi back from Dream while Skeppy acquired Cat. At the elections, Tommy gives Mellohi to Wilbur who gives it back again when they’re banished. Months pass and they finally win back L’Manberg and its a wonderful day (until it goes wrong) but Tommy’s not done with his disc war. 

This disc war was always a personal thing for Tommy, he’s never wanted others to be dragged in and hurt by it. He kind of takes Tubbo for granted, but Tubbo’s also always been his partner in crime and Tommy enjoys having a war he can fight alongside his best friend - he and Tubbo against Dream. Dream at this point is still seen as a friendly enemy, in spite of choosing Schlatt and helping Wilbur blow up L’Manberg. Anyway, he rejects Presidency, giving it to Wilbur because he trusts him and also wants to focus on his personal battles after so long ignoring it. He doesn’t want others to be dragged in or for his interests to be divided. He’s leaving L’Manburg in safe hands he can trust. That’s season 1 of the SMP, but season 2 is where things get messier.

After the war, Tommy hears that Tubbo had been suspicious that Tommy might’ve been the traitor. In order to show that he trusts him, Tommy gives Tubbo Mellohi. It’s not just a disc now, its a sign of trust, a sign of their bond - at least in Tommy’s eyes.

Then Dream builds obsidian walls around L’Manburg and we first see Tommy showing that bit of selfishness. He states that he’d wanted to step away, that L’Manburg wasn’t his priority anymore. That he’d left it in safe hands so he could focus on the discs. But it doesn’t matter what Tommy intended. Dream is targeting him and is dragging the rest of L’Manburg into it by threatening to seal them in obsidian forever if they don’t comply. Tommy and Tubbo do have a disagreement here, but its not actually so much about the discs. 

-Tommy believes that fighting Dream is the superior option, if they ask for help from others in the server - because what he’s doing isn’t right - then they could defeat him, show him that he couldn’t just push them around. 

-Tubbo feels like that would get them killed and he doesn’t want to risk their lives. It would be better to appease Dream for now and secretly plot how to take him down later but Tommy’s being too hotheaded. 

Tommy brings up the disc to state how he trusts Tubbo and would consider being exiled a betrayal but Tubbo reminds him that they’re just discs and there’s more on the line and Tommy needs to be more cooperative. Anyway, Tommy’s hurt by Tubbo exiling him and think its a sign that he doesn’t care about him anymore. Tubbo meanwhile found it difficult to do but felt like there was no other option but did still care about Tommy. Tubbo would later come to regret doing it while Tommy would later say that it was the right choice when they finally actually talk. 

The discs here are kind of a symbol but Tommy doesn’t really value them over others, he’s being a little selfish for sure but that is mostly a result of being treated unfairly by Dream and feeling attacked and ganged up on by his friends, not seeing how they were trying to help him. Dream’s the one to blame here. At worst, Tommy’s being irresponsible in thinking he can just step away from L’Manburg - he didn’t value the discs over it, he just wanted to fight a personal battle without L’Manburg being involved for once. But too many things do matter to him and Dream realised he could attack Tommy through his friends. Its also why Tommy says he didn’t want Tubbo to be President, because he wanted him to be free to help him in his personal war too. There were some issues in their friendship that for sure got exploited and blown out of proportion.

So post-exile. Tommy is rather confused. He’s decided he doesn’t want to die and that Dream wasn’t really his friend, but he still feels abandoned by all his other friends. He still believes they didn’t really care about him after his failed beach party and everything else. And his feelings on Dream are mixed because he knows logically he should hate him but emotionally he still feels like he’s his friend.

Tommy at this point, begins clinging to the discs as some sort of tangible goal while feeling so lonely and abandoned. He has no real sense of agency and really wants Technoblade to give him guidance. Technoblade however wants to destroy L’Manburg and reaffirms his thoughts that Tubbo doesnt really care about him. Tommy is still...kinda(?) clear that he doesn’t want L’Manburg to be destroyed but is willing to compromise on minor terrorism. His remaining belief in L’Manburg is being eroded. You can see in his trips into L’Manburg he is rather unaware of the extent of his actions. He’s suffered and now feels right in lashing out. It seems to be the start of a villain arc even. Right at this point, the discs make more sense than people so they are his goal. And yet even in the midst of his uncertainty, he says the one Tubbo has is safe, he wants to get the one Dream has. 

The discs are Tommy’s way of saying he wants to fight Dream. It’s not really about the discs anymore, Dream went way too far with the exile and now Tommy wants to stop him and find it easiest to frame it as going after his music disc.

Then the festival. Tommy finally confronts Tubbo and sees him about to give his disc to Dream. It’s his worst fears confirmed, that Tubbo doesn’t really care about him and that he’s on Dream’s side. They fight and Tommy finally says the line ‘the discs were worth more than you ever were!’

And he regrets it immediately. The statement rang false. They were just discs and Tubbo was his best friend. He immediately tells Tubbo to give up the disc and changes sides then and there. The discs were not more important than people. He was being selfish. And he also remembered how much he cared about L’Manburg and didn’t want it to be blown up no matter what he’d agreed to the day before. He wants to fight for it, choosing his friends once and for all. 

In his argument with Techno on Doomsday, he does bring up his discs and words it kind of awkwardly. He tries to explain that ‘nothing had been taken from you, while the discs were stolen from me’ Tommy believes that Techno is destroying something people loved when he could’ve just walked away, he wasn’t fighting for something he loved like Tommy in his wars. That’s what he’s trying to get at, not that music discs are more important than people. Tommy doesn’t actually believe that and prefers wars that don’t hurt others, as the disc wars was once supposed to be before Dream brought in everyone else. Even saying that, Tommy admits he’d messed up so many times in chasing the discs. That he was wrong.

Tommy talks about going after the discs again but at this point it really means taking down Dream. Dream had expressed that he would not stop, he enjoyed their ‘game’ too much. Tommy has nothing left to lose as far as he’s concerned and needs to take down Dream for everything he’d done. 

During the disc saga finale, again Tommy always chooses Tubbo first. There’s this one moment where he has Mellohi and could run away forever but he stops and gives it up along with all their items before their taken to the vault and almost forced to watch Tubbo die while he gets thrown in prison forever. But he chooses Tubbo. He always does. 

Okay, summary over. I hope that better explains why I dislike the misconception that Tommy chooses his discs over people. He doesn’t really. It’s used to discredit him way too much, I feel. It’s only at his lowest, after being tormented in exile that he even gets close to that position and that’s when he’s on the bring of choosing a dark path and becoming what he hates. At the festival, he rejects that path.

Now that he has his discs, he hasn’t started trouble with them once. They’re safe and he can bring them out to listen to when he’s feeling low, not hurting anyone. They’re just something he loves and its okay to have attachments. 

[koi-bysunset]

trans!quest

quest has many scars, and most of them he's ashamed of. they bear the heavy reminder of his past, flashes his mind back to bruised knuckles and knives that don't stop digging into him even after the moment it breaks the skin.

it isn't unusual to find him standing in front of the mirror stark naked, taking in all the ways time has been cruel to him--all the ways he has been cruel to himself. a jagged line tearing through his feet up to the muscles of his calf, a hulking keloid scar that almost occupies the entirety of his right knee, ugly slashes on his arms that rise above his skin, and the ugly pockmarks on the back of his hands that involved an ugly encounter with cigarettes and an angry gang member. 

all of these scars he touches as lightly as he could, fingers feathering over the braille of his healed injuries. one by one he remembers--forces to remember--because it is his penance and firm promise not to allow himself to walk that path again. not when he has everyone on the server to take care of now. not when he has you to take care of now.

his hands ghost over the scar on his jaw, down to the mended gunshot wound that shattered his collarbone to pieces. he feels the difference in texture between his skin and the stab wound he's sewn shut in wide-eyed adrenaline-and-whiskey-filled delirium. touches the mangled tissue on his arm from a bad fall. he focuses he focuses he focuses, eyes closed in pained memory as he runs them all through his mind in fast forward and slow motion simultaneously, again and again in vicious loops.

his hand stills once it hovers on the scars directly under his chest. he takes a deep breath then opens his eyes, centers his vision on them until all of the other scars fade away.

deliberate. that's what the voice in his head whispers to him. these are different from all the others. these are intentional, done with the nonchalant precision of a doctor who has already done the procedure multiple times, and yet--and yet. it grounds quest with its gravity. they are a jagged reminder of change, a jagged reminder that he is who he is now, and that he has come far despite everything.

he feels himself smile when he remembers the first time he showed them to you. he had made sure that the lighting was just right: bright enough so you could tell they were there, but dark enough so it would be easy for you to miss them if you weren't paying attention. "quest, are these--"

"yes." he could feel his heart race, and he tensed up to the point where his muscles ached. you said nothing, just touched his scars with all the gentleness of the quiet night. he watched your fingers as they traced the half-moons on his torso. he was terrified, and rightfully so. he had never loved anyone as much as he loves you, and everything--the past, the future, the present--hinged on this moment.

he forced himself not to cry the moment he saw you smile in understanding-- 

and love. god, there was so much love in your eyes. he reveled in it, basked in it, wanted to drown himself in it. he felt a weight lifted off his shoulders, and he decided that all of the hurt he had gone through, all of the pain and suffering and loss was worth it when you pulled him close to give him a kiss.

you said so little and yet he could write volumes and shelves and libraries worth of books of what you made him feel at that moment. i will make up a word that means greater than love, quest thinks. i will make up a word that means 'i choose to love you and will choose to love you to the point where it consumes me'. 

i will make up a word that means 'what i feel for you is of biblical proportions because it is worthy to be told and retold until the seed blossoms into gospel'. 

i will make up a word that means 'this is me, beaten and broken and gnarled and so easy to be thought of as unredeemable, so easily thrown away, and yet here you are, giving me the softness i don't deserve'.

quest thinks of these things, and when he can't come up with a new word, he finally settles on a kiss on the lips, deep and passionate and longing, and hopes that it makes up for that.