#leaves my blorbos on the counter for you

[celestialtrolls]

<- this bitch long sighted

[purelyfiction]

Room for Dessert

Robert 'Bob' Floyd x F!Reader

Summary: it's date night for you and Bob and as always, he is the most doting gentleman you know. full of manners and always wanting to be up to expectations! after a gracious dinner, Bob reminds you there’s still a course you missed at the restaurant.

Word count: 1,658 words

Author notes: HIIIIIII i got this as a prompt from a prompt sheet ages ago and wanted to put this out for mr perfect in every way's birthday but i finished it maybe two hours after the day ended in EST time so!! a day late but, in honor of blorbo's birthday a very nice little birthday treat :)))) HEY THIS HAS SMUT SO IF YOU AREN'T 18+ GTFO || f receiving oral, maybe spanking? not sure it counts. some nsfw language for sure. Thank you @callsignthirsty for beta-ing the majority of this as always you are crucial for my writing :))))))

Your darling and sweet man had gone the extra mile for date night. A white tablecloth restaurant, reservations, bottle service to your table, and the whole nine yards. He’d gotten himself all dressed up just so you could do the same. He’d held doors, played your playlist the whole way in his beat-up classic truck – the perfect man. There was even a fresh set of flowers on the counter when you’d returned home. Amazed by all of this, you look back at him as you drift into the kitchen.

“You have really outdone yourself, Bo.” Your fingers caress the petals, looking over the roses with such delicate motions. You catch Bob’s reflection in the window as he comes up behind you.

“I wouldn’t call it outdoing myself if this is what I deem the standard.” Hands wrap so delicately around your waist, finding themselves at home as the two of you linger in the continued feel-good endorphins from the night.

You have work in the morning. He has training. Yet as his palms flatten against the elegant fabric of your dress, you hum with ease and let your head sink back to his shoulder. Bob takes this new spot as an invitation to pepper minute and delicate kisses up your neck, to your jawline. If this keeps going, the two of you might end up miserable and sleep-deprived. His hand grabbing the flesh of your thigh convinces you to ditch the bedtime.

“Your standard is far from the industry’s,” you tease, looking at how his blue eyes seem to shift in the low light of your kitchen.

“Guess you’ve got the top-of-the-line product then, now don’t you darlin’?” Hands travel from where they’d been innocently tracing little circles on your hip bones. Instead, slinking down to your thighs to toy with the hem of your skirt in this wonderful dress (which he’d bought you just for tonight).

“It would seem that way. And it’s still running like a dream three years later.” There’s an amused huff of air deposited onto your skin, hands busy entertaining the softness of your thighs, fingertips paving a path of goosebumps under them.

“You sure about that? No need for a diagnostics run? Make sure there aren’t any lingering bugs that might be screwing up the hardware?” There’s an easy giggle that leaves you while his hands busy themselves spinning you back around to face him, guiding you so you are flush against the counter of the island.

“I mean, everything seems to be in working order.” Your own arms wrap up around his neck as he gets impossibly closer, lips gluing themselves back to the skin of your neck, moving downward this time. One hand takes yours, holding onto it innocently as his tongue draws a hotspot to your skin. In one swift movement, he’s flattening your hand against his groin, smirking at the way your breath catches when you make contact.

“I think you’re right, baby.” He’s rock-hard. Instead of letting you linger in the sensation, Bob’s moving before you can even indulge in his previous action, hands gripping under your ass and carefully lifting you to rest on the counter. His lips meet yours for the first time since arriving home, his tongue pushing its way to its rightful place against yours. One hand continues to toy with anything he can find under your skirt, his fingers skating to the lace of your underwear, tugging at them with no real defined goal. You're like magnets, Bob's large hand hopelessly drawn to your waist, your chest, fingers desperately grasping at you through the padding of your bra. There’s a resistance as his lips pull back, moving back to the spot right under your ear. “You know, I just realized something.” The low baritone of his register vibrates the shell of your ear.

“Did you get a notification on your operating system?” The tease leaves him nipping at your ear.

“Something like that,” he huffs, hands still gripping onto you as if you will vanish if he lets you go. “We completely skipped over the dessert portion of dinner.”

“Was it on the agenda?” The response comes quick, but not nearly as instant as the following one. “Or is this fine-tuned machine starting to break down?” His hand is gripping your chest again, an almost punishing response to your question.

“This machine would like to self-correct if you’d just be patient enough.” He finally breaks the magnetic spell he’s under, blue eyes a heavy, royal color by this point. His hands easily glide back under your skirt, both of them working in tandem to tug the cotton from your hips. You shift to help him rid the fabric from your body, the cold granite of the countertop making you shiver on contact. With your panties on the floor, his hands drop to the counter, boxing you in as you rest on a makeshift pedestal to your most nerdy—yet flushed and intoxicating—boyfriend. The cocksure demeanor has begun to fade ever so slightly, uncertainty creeping in at the most inopportune time. “I- ugh-” his fingers are chilled from the stone when they return to your waist.

Your eyes meet with his, the softness of your boyfriend suddenly on full display as his hands make laps on your thighs, running up and down. A cautious hand comes up to his chin, forefinger and thumb gripping it. “Honey?”

This happens from time to time. He’ll be on such a roll, so easily matching the energy that you ignite in him, then suddenly shut down as if he’s rebooting. Once, he told you that he would get so overwhelmed with how many emotions he felt toward you—so turned on—that he would short-circuit and need a minute for all systems to come back online. Bob’s gaze returns to yours, no longer spaced out, hands pausing their continuous motion in favor of gripping at your thighs once more.

“Would it be too crass to say I want you to come on my glasses?” All systems go. Your hand shifts up to caress his jawline, carefully guiding his lips back to yours.

“No. It’s fucking hot-” Your answer evaporates into the air as you tug him close again, his hips slotting between your easily parted thighs.

“Should I–?” he gasps, eyes flicking toward the floor before they return to your mouth.

“If you want me to cum on your glasses, Bo?” You run your tongue over your kiss-stung lips. “Yeah.”

Bob surges forward, eager to lick into your mouth, claiming it before falling to his knees. You card your fingers through his hair and shift your legs further apart to give him more room to work with. “God, baby, you look so good like this,” he groans. The praise jolts you as large hands settle on the inside of your thighs, careful lips starting a trail of kisses from the top of one knee, up your leg, and right to your dripping center. His breath staccatos over your skin, hovering as a thumb carefully spreads you, basking in what he’s done to you. “Oh, this never gets old, angel, never, never.” The sound of his voice fades as his tongue expertly glides up your folds, making a lap or two at the top that sends your breathing pattern into a fit. You attempt to brace against the counter as he works, your hand gripping taut to the curls you adored.

You aren’t sure what code Bob has written in his brain that gives you the benefit of duality: the charming and beyond kind gentleman at dinner this evening and the absolutely rogue man between your legs.

“You taste so good, baby, so fucking amazing—fuck dessert,” it’s muttered against your cunt, eagerly lapped away to send your stomach spiraling. You have half a mind to let the counter behind you morph into a mattress as your eyes fall shut. You’re tempted to let the stone cool your skin from the burning sensation Bob is supplying you.

Instead, you jump, eyes shooting open when his hand comes to the outside of your thigh. Glancing down, blue eyes drill into yours, Bob pulling away with the hardest focus chiseled into his features. “Eyes on me.” Oh, fuck, he was taking it to the extremes. Bob’s ability to hyperfocus was an advantage and a disadvantage. Such as right now, when he is insistent on making you watch as he devours you, barely getting enough air as he fastens himself even more firmly against you.

As his tongue pushes into you, a shrill sound escapes you. You’re not going to be much longer, if he stays down this path. Bob just might get his wish. And he does, not even minutes later, your legs viscerally shaking, large hands clamping them to the counter to prevent you from locking your thighs around his head in an effort to stop. Gasping for air, slapping the palm of your hand against the countertop, your words are short off your lips, “Bob, baby, you can- shit- honey that’s enough,” however, he hasn’t powered down yet, with no intentions on stopping. When you try again, an arm crosses over your hips, pushing you down just enough to keep him centered right where he needed to be to tie the knot in your stomach again. You can’t help the way you squirm and writhe under him, strong arm gripping to your hips as he frantically swipes his tongue against you - until you break, nearly screaming under him, possibly - no, likely disturbing the neighbors.

You’ve laid fully back on the stone by this point, unable to will yourself to move after all Bob had put you through. There’s a pop of his knee when he stands up, hands coming to either side of your body, leaning onto the counter and over top of you. Glasses not only fogged up to no end, but in dire need of a cleaning.

[what-have-you-contained]

✦•┈๑⋅⋯ little sweet treats ⋯⋅๑┈•✦

🐇 || 🐈‍⬛

𖦹 pairing: (Netverse) Killer x Murder 🔪🧣

𖦹 summary: Murder learns to make a new treat for his friend (or maybe more?).

𖦹 word count: 1094 words

𖦹 a/n: Another short thing! Netverse belongs to my twinnie @what-have-i-unleashed. Since they're currently in blorbo crime jail, I can finally release this :D

Murder doesn't know what came over him. Maybe the sentimentality that Dream has also harped on and on about has finally taken over him, because why else would he be willingly walking down the streets to the Muffet's cafe of this universe, all for a dumb cat-shaped pudding in a video that Killer has sent to him? Murder might be gifted in the arts of culinary, but desserts are not exactly his forte. And there's only one person he knows who is a expert in their field.

Upon entering the garishly decorated cafe, Murder is greeted with the sight of its owner, the resident Muffet. The spider monster perks up from her counter. The place is empty except for a few seats out in the patio, as expected from a early weekend morning.

"Oh, hello dearie~" she giggles at him, leaning over the counter. "Aren't you a rare sight around here?"

Murder retreats further into his oversized puffer jacket as he strolls up to Muffet and wordlessly shows Muffet the cursed video that has led him up to this point.

"… Do you have these types of molds?" he mutters through his mask.

Muffet squints, one hand stroking her chin. "Maybe. I have to check my inventory. Although, what do I get out of this, Sansy~?"

"I'll make a video of your cafe."

"Deal!" Muffet grins with her fangs and disappears into the kitchen, leaving Murder standing awkwardly and wishing no one will recognize him.

After acquiring the silicone cat molds and putting them in a black bag, Murder treks back home, occasionally reading the multiple recipes on his phone just to make sure he's already got everything.

The recipe for the pudding isn't too difficult, Murder figures as he sits in the kitchen by the stove, waiting for the saucepan to heat up. After the mixture is hot enough, he takes the saucepan off the stove and stirs in the gelatin, absentmindedly looking at his phone which is displaying his messages with Killer. Seems like Killer is on a job right now, and he's coming over in the evening. That's enough time for Murder to take a short nap after pouring the pudding mixture in the molds and leaving them in the fridge to cool.

When he wakes up from the nap, Murder groggily looks at the clock. Five o'clock in the afternoon. That's good - he has enough time to clean his mess of a living room before Killer arrives then. He instinctively checks his phone. Killer is still online, but he hasn't sent any more message since the last one. The idiot is still alive at least.

At around seven, Murder hears a clicking noise and then a glass shattering sound from the bathroom. He doesn't need to run there when he hears the familiar yelping from Killer, who presumably has fallen over into the hard bathtub. He'll make Killer clean up that mess later.

"You're early," Murder muses aloud, wiping the floor table without looking up to see Killer walking towards him.

"Yeah, work ended quicker than I thought," Killer says, flopping on a floor cushion, folding his legs together. Murder glances at him - some singes here and there on his clothes, but no visible injuries at least.

"Shoes off," Murder says before returning to his task.

"Oof, sorry babe," Killer shrugs and takes his shoes off, going to the front door to drop them before walking back to the living room. "By the way, what are we having for today?"

Turns out, some tteokbokki that Murder has made yesterday already. Killer, the uncultured foodie that he is, happily gouges each piece with a fork while Murder only watches with chopticks in his hands and chews on his portion slowly. Killer, as always, starts prattling on and on about his recent job as some sort of bodyguard for someone that Murder couldn't bother to care. It seems the new gig makes Killer happier at least, so Murder can tolerate the unsolicited yapping while he stays silent, watching his occasional freeloader gesture animatedly the whole time.

"Let me get the dessert," Murder stands up after both of their bowls are clean. Killer also moves to stand up to bring his bowl to the sink like any good guest with manner would do, but Murder stops him. "No, you sit there. I can't trust you in my kitchen."

"Wow, ouch," Killer laments dramatically, one hand on his SOUL. "Right in the SOUL, babe."

Murder scoffs, amused. "Just stay here. I'll be back in a min or two."

With that, he collects all the dirty dishes to the sink and checks in on the puddings in the fridge. He hums, satisfied at their firmness. Now onto the good part, decoration. He rummages the cupboards and brings out his special plates he's impulsively bought some time ago - the ones with little cats on their rims. Gently, he removes the puddings from their molds, momentarily fascinated by the jiggles as they pop out of the molds and onto the plates. One brown cat and one white cat. After putting sesame seeds in place of their eyes and mouths, the jiggly cat puddings are complete and ready to serve.

As he brings the plates out to the living room, Murder sees Killer look up from his phone. The expression of Killer's face, Murder lets a small smile on his face - he thinks he would remember that reaction for days to come.

"Cat got your tongue, Killer?" Murder grins, putting down a plate in front of Killer, and the cat jiggles while Killer stares at it, entranced. "Happy one-year anniversary of the day we met."

"… Oh wow, this is embarrassing," Killer says, and he looks charmingly sheepish with his hands behind his neck. "And here I thought I would be the first to give the gift."

Now it's Murder's turn to be surprised. Killer pulls something from his inventory, a small white box. Gingerly, Murder accepts the gift and opens it. He stares for a moment before he pulls a pair of oven mitts shaped like rabbit paws from the box.

"Really?" Murder glances at Killer, who now sports a mischievous grin on his face.

"Well, they remind me of you. I mean," Killer crawls into Murder's space and whispers, "you can be the rabbit while I'll be your kitty."

"Oh stars," Murder covers his face as he feels a blush form on his face as Killer laughs out loud. Murder has to admit, their first anniversary is going better than he thought.

dividers here

[nothingbutnowhere]

Part 2 soft!Simon x hypervigilant!reader

Part 1

You don't absolutely need to read the last part to understand this, but it's in the same universe.

Edit for explanation in notes I forgot not everyone knows what a CPAP device is lol, someone tell my why I have sleep headcanons for all my blorbos

Notes: domestic as fuck, Simon snores & uses a CPAP (a device that helps with sleep apnea, looks like this, he definitely has to use a full mask there's no way that man's nose isn't broken to hell and back and has difficulty breathing, why do you think he wears a mask (so he can breathe warm, humid air which is much better for your lungs)) reader is referred to as 'girl' by Simon, referenced off screen sex, teasing and banter

...

The after-sex-cuddles-but-before-bed ritual is set in stone. You both get up, Simon folds up the sex blanket (second best purchase of your life) and cleans your vibrator (the best purchase of your life), while you prep a warm washcloth. He helps you wipe down, he calls you 'messy girl' each time like he didn't contribute half of it. You still blush.

Brushing your teeth together, it often hits you how domestic this all is. Some nights it's painful and Simon holds you until you stop shaking, other nights you're smiling so hard it's difficult to brush. Tonight is somewhere in the middle. Melancholic. Quiet. He shoos you into the bedroom after you're done, turning off the light and closing the door on the way out.

Simon grabs you as soon as you sit on the bed and pulls you down into him, strong arms surrounding you, face nuzzling into your neck like a cat. But you see through the trick.

"Put your CPAP on before you fall asleep."

"Don' wanna," he says sleepily, "Can't do this w'the bloody thing on."

It's true, spooning with the CPAP sucks (unless he's the little spoon) but that's not what the current objective is.

"Simon," you warn.

You try to wriggle out of his arms to no avail.

"Simon Riley put it on right now or so help me god you'll be sleeping on the couch for the next week," your mock 'upset' tone is always only half serious, made even less so by the punctuating yawn.

For both your sake's you need the 'bloody thing'. For one, you'll sleep like shit if he's snoring in your ear and for two he's always in a much better state when sleeping with the CPAP. He's told you he sleeps like shit when he's gone and you tut that it's because he doesn't have access to it. He said it was 'cause he didn't have access to something else and that was the end of that conversation (he went to bend you over the kitchen counter but you slipped away giggling, only to end up tossed over his shoulder on the way to the bedroom).

"Simon."

When he doesn't move you jam your elbow back into him.

He doesn't so much as grunt at the attack, only grumbles and flips over, sitting up to flick on the lamp and mess with the machine.

You watch him as he does, muscular back on display and you resist the urge to run your hand over, lest you disrupt the process. 

He may tease you gently about your 'princess alarm clock' that wakes you up with light and birdsong, but you get him right back with references to his 'CPAP deluxe'. It's got the warm air humidifier for his 'delicate nose', all the bells and whistles.

He finishes and turns the lamp off, leaving the faint light of the street lamp to illuminate the room and him as he turns back around.

"There's my scuba diver," you giggle, tapping the mask softly.

He sighs, knowing he can't make a convincing comeback with the mask on- you'll only laugh at his attempts- and lays down on his back. You immediately snuggle up against his side, hugging his arm, leg thrown over his. His hand cradles your face for a moment, thumb sliding over your lips as a good night kiss before laying his hand over yours on his chest. 

It's peaceful like this. Before you needed silence to sleep but you've gotten used to the CPAP. Mostly because it means Simon's home. And now when he's gone you have to put on white noise to sleep. Nothing your princess alarm clock can't handle. There's been lots of big and small changes since Simon wedged in to your life with his puns and banter and menacing figure but it's been more than worth it.

"Love you," Simon mumbles through the mask.

"Love you too."

...

I do NOT consent for my works, part of my works, or my ideas to be used for ANY form of AI.

Part 1

A/N: I made this account to write smut and here I am with the softest slice of life blurb. Oh well. Maybe I'll write the bit after the 'access' comment, there's lots of fun places that could go.

[mykingdomforapen]

LC's Link Click fics that she holds close to her heart

So, during the SGDLR Gotcha for Gaza campaign that took place several months ago, I was so lucky to be gifted some INCREDIBLE fics. Like, INCREDIBLE. These generous writers took my silly little prompts and created masterpieces out of them and I want to shove them in the fandom's face and go LOOOK LOOOOOK they're just! So great! And I am on my hands and knees begging you to read and comment and kudos them because they deserve so much love.

Ling-jie by @bleppities

"One second, she's a sister without a brother, and the next, he's smiling at her through the lens, little fingers forming a V and reaching towards the sky." Or Qiao Ling has to make a difficult choice between the little brother forever gone, and the one left behind.

I reread this fic ENDLESSLY, especially when I need a good cry. Wowowow. This story is so moving, so tender in its raw and unflinching take on Qiao Ling's grief. This writer is so kind, so faithful, so loving of Qiao Ling and of her boys. It's so moving, and every time I think about it I get tight in the chest and throat. Oh, it is beautiful.

Porridge and Chicken Soup by kkomaism

Cheng Xiaoshi is sick. When he's sick, he's delirious, and when he's delirious, he thinks of his parents.

I am SUCH a sucker for sick fics for my blorbo, and this hit the spot so wonderfully. Cheng Xiaoshi wishing for his parents just gets me in the HEART, but I'm so so happy and touched by the way Lu Guang and Qiao Ling are at his side, showering him with tender and loving care. It's such a feel-good fic that scratches my itches, and I love it so!

hairball by Evyisevyl (00_EVY_00)

It didn't start with a hairball his cat coughed up nor did it start with his promise to buy cats. No, it started when Cheng Xiaoshi decided to get himself into an accident.

GAHHH THIS FIC IS SO GOOD!! It's such a quietly intimate portrayal of depression and post-trauma and grief as Lu Guang struggles to take care of cats while Cheng Xiaoshi is in a coma, and it is just so so gentle and tender. This fic feels like it gently picks Lu Guang and the reader up and cradles it and nuzzles it like a kitten. I want to cuddle this story.

His to Believe by @saelterlude

Lu Guang happens to visit the studio the one day Cheng Xiaoshi isn't around, thus what greeted him is Qiao Ling manning the counter. It naturally sparked a question in him.

“So where are his parents?”

Written by sael who likes to destroy me emotionally on a regular basis!!! I love this take on what was a rather vague prompt, which was simply, how did LG learn about CXS' parents, and they stayed so true to the characters and their natures. QL loves her brother so much and it exudes a deep closeness and dedication to him, which is such a moving portrayal of their relationship.

a bright sky, a place to stay by aaskew

The words ring in his mind nonstop, bringing together the need to puke. Cheng Xiaoshi’s inside curls into itself, something shy and wounded. Over the years, he’s fought trials against time and persevered amongst the most depressing circumstances ━ that moment, though? Nothing compares to how he was feeling right there.

Cheng Xiaoshi attends a party with a smile, but leaves with his heart aching.

Sometimes we gotta beat up Cheng Xiaoshi's emotions with a bat before we can shower him with love!!! This fic so firmly and intimately understands the value and strength of love and friendship, as it follows Cheng Xiaoshi navigating some deeply hurt feelings. It's so lovely and showers Cheng Xiaoshi with the love that he deserves (even if we gotta go through some heartache to get there!) and I feel like this fic is a big group hug.

swear you'll stay by Occasional Artist

Cheng Xiaoshi wants to make sure he can keep Lu Guang forever. What better way to do that than to swear brotherhood.

AUGHUGHGUHG THE DEDICATION THAT WENT INTO THIS FIC!! It delves into the culture, the history that I am so longing for, and portrays this beautiful and intimate relationship that is such a crux of ancient Chinese culture with our boys. Sworn brotherhood truly is the best way to describe CXS and LG, and this story honors that so, so much. It is earnest, it is joyful, it is so tender and sweet. AAHHHH!

[megs-98]

Petals and Poems

Ayyy, look who's back to writing ! :) only took me 6 weeks but that's okay coming back with a short fluff piece. it was originally my wip titled lounging about, but it kind of took a turn and the blorbos did what they wanted, hope yall enjoy <3

Pairings: Gale x f!reader

Summary: Gale is off to work after making you breakfast, so you decided to go shopping and leave some gifts for him to find once he arrives home. Also Tara is peak mom in this.

Tags: None, just two idiots in love :')

Word count: 1.9k

The breeze rustling the curtains and the smell of the salty sea air is what woke you this morning. The start of the spring season in Waterdeep. As you raised your arms over your head as you stretched you noticed that your love was not next to you in the bed. Sitting up on your elbows, you looked around the room, looking to see if he were out on the balcony or in the ensuite bathroom. You didn’t see him anywhere, but soon enough you realized where he was as you heard the clatter of pots and pans. Smiling to yourself, you finally removed your blankets as you walked over to the bathroom to freshen up for the day before bundling up in your robe and walking down the tower stairs.  

“HONE–” You and Gale both rounded the bottom of the stairs at the same time as he was calling to you that breakfast was done, bumping into each other. You quickly grabbed his apron, a lovely gift from Astarion with embroidery reading “Kiss The Wizard”, and he grabbed your wrist, the two of you stabilizing each other. You heard a loud merow from Tara as she ran off after getting startled by the two of you. Between his fits of laughter, Gale gave you a kiss on the cheek and told you that he had prepared breakfast for the two of you. 

As you entered the kitchen your nose was hit with the sweetness of berries, the yeastness of fresh rolls, and the savory smell of eggs with a side of cheese. 

“This smells, and looks, delicious as usual, Gale. Thank you.” You said as you planted a kiss on his lips as he leaned against the counter. Gale hummed against you as he grabbed your waist deepening the kiss. You could feel his smug smile against you as you tried to pull away from him, laughing as you reached for his hands. 

“The breakfast you slaved over is going to get cold if you don’t stop it.” 

“As I’ve said before, my angel, you could sate me for a lifetime.” Gale responded as he winked at you before turning back to the counter to prepare the both of you a cup of tea. You rolled your eyes as you took a seat at the table to make yourself a plate. Soon enough, Gale joined you at the table with a steaming cup of tea as you both enjoyed breakfast, discussing the plans the two of you had for the day. Gale talking at length about the various meetings he had with other teachers at Blackstaff Academy and what he was needing to do to prepare for the upcoming term starting. You listened intently before explaining that you were just planning on going to the markets, specifically the flower market, to see what you could find then doing some light cleaning and reading upon your return to the tower. Gale excitedly asked that you show him whatever you buy when he gets home that evening. 

“You’ve brought a certain sense of peace to the tower with your taste in decor, I can’t wait to see what you find.” You couldn’t help but blush as he voiced his adoration for you. It was something that still caught you off guard even though the two of you had been together for some time already. 

You and Gale said your goodbyes to each other as he left the tower, sighing contentedly as you closed the door behind him. You made your way back upstairs with Tara to finish getting ready for the day. The two of you entered the shared bedroom and went straight to the closet as you discarded your robe. Browsing your options, you finally found some, hopefully, acceptable pieces. For being a tressym, Tara was quite the brutal fashion critic. You held two blouse options up for Tara after you chose what pants you were going to wear. 

“What do you think, Tara, the pink or the blue blouse with these brown trousers?”

Tara circled your legs as she looked up at the two blouses considering the options very carefully. 

She sighed a bit as she jumped on the bed. “My dear child, while you have improved in your fashion sense a bit since moving here, your choices are still abysmal. Trade the brown trousers for black and pair it with the pink blouse. The pink suits your features well.” 

You did your best not to be upset because a winged cat just insulted you but you also appreciated her advice. She was a bit right, after spending years adventuring and wearing almost only armor during that time, you really weren’t sure how to dress yourself and definitely realized that being in the City of Splendors with Gale. You silently nodded and did as Tara said, getting dressed as she left, leaving you alone in the room. You slid on your boots, grabbed your coin purse, and left the tower heading for the market center. 

You quite enjoyed walking through Waterdeep, it was so different to what you were used to, having only been in the Baldur’s Gate area before. Even your adventures didn’t take you far from home. The market center had been your favorite since Gale first took you there. All of the smells always hit you a few blocks before you reach your destination. The various spices, cinnamon, sage, rosemary, coriander, chilis, almost every spice you could think of. Be it sweet, savory, spicy, the vendors had it. There were also the fishmongers fileting their most recent catches of the morning. That wasn’t as nice of a smell, but the saltiness in the air from the ocean water helped get past the fishiness of it all. 

Your favorite spot in the entire market, though, are the flower vendors. All the flowers you could imagine, from common flowers found in almost every Waterhavian garden, to rare flowers found in the far reaches of Faerun. You could spend hours sitting in the midst of the fresh floral scents that came from the lilacs, roses, even the flowering herbs. You found it very calming, and as much as you wanted to stay, you were there for specific flowers to decorate the tower with. You bought 3 large bundles of lavender, baby’s breath, and an assorted mix of primrose, varying from pink to purple and to white. 

Happy with your purchase, you decided to make your way back to the tower. Humming as you walked along, you looked around and one of the various bookstores caught your eye. You decided it wouldn’t hurt to pop in and see if you could find anything for yourself and hopefully something for Gale. You were able to find a book that piqued your interest, a guide to the folklore surrounding The North and other areas throughout the Sword Coast. However, trying to find a book that you thought Gale might want was proving difficult. Every book you were finding you quickly realized that he either had a copy back home or read a similar book already. Accepting defeat you start putting back the books you had wanted for Gale, knowing that he would be happy that you found something for yourself. While putting the last book back, you see a small book that had been pushed behind other books on the shelf. Pulling it out, reading the title Whispers of the Muse: A Tale of Poetic Magic. A book detailing the story of a wizard, who turned his spells into beautiful poetry, and his journey finding love amidst an adventure. You couldn’t help but smile to yourself as the wizard in the book reminded you of your own wizard. You quickly went to the shopkeeper to pay for your finds and continued your return home. 

Gale announced his arrival back to the tower with a tired “I’m home, my love!”. He hung up his coat and set his bag down by the door, rubbing his neck as he made his way into the kitchen. With a wave of his hand, the candles came to life and he was surprised to see that he was greeted by Tara, sitting on the kitchen table, glaring at him.

“Mr. Dekarios! Have you any idea what time it is? The Mrs. waited for you as long as she could, the poor woman spent so long this afternoon cleaning the house and getting dinner ready for you.”

Gale looked around as he listened to Tara’s words and did notice that the tower was more organized and less dusty than he had previously left it this morning. He also noticed the bouquet sitting on the table next to Tara and a gift. He ran his fingers over the soft petals of the primrose and smiled as he saw his favorite flower, lavender, paired with your favorite flower, primrose, put together so beautifully. 

“Thank you for taking care of her, Tara. I do truly appreciate it. I will be sure to show her my thanks, and apologies for returning home late, in the most appropriate way I can. Also, my dear Tara, please remember not to eat the lavender, it gives you the most terrible stomach aches.” 

Tara gave Gale a low growl as she glared at him again, leaving for her spot on the couch with a harsh flick of her tail. Gale chuckled to himself as he reached for the gift that Tav also left for him, finding a note placed on the top. 

Gale, I’m sorry I’m not there to greet you when you get home. It’s getting late and our bed is calling my name with its siren song. There’s a plate of dinner saved for you. I hope you like the flowers and the book. I think you’ll find some similarities between you and the fictional wizard. I love you and I’ll see you soon.

Unwrapping the book, Gale read the title and was immediately intrigued. He skimmed through a bit of the book before deciding it could wait til morning. He had the love of his life in his bed and he needed her. 

Making his way up the stairs, he noticed more vases of flowers. The various bouquets adding fragrant pops of color all throughout the tower. Gale made his way to the bedroom and slowly opened the door. Slightly hoping you were still awake in bed, he peeked in, finding you sprawled out in bed, taking up as much space as your body would allow with a book laying open next to you. Admiring your sleeping form, Gale couldn’t help but thank the gods for you and him finding each other and falling in love. He didn’t know what to do without you and he didn’t want to go back to living without you.

Getting into his sleep clothes, he carefully got into bed, pushing your limbs back onto your side of the bed before pulling you into him for a cuddle. Gale was worried he had fully woken you up at first, as you had started to stir, but you sleepily pulled him in closer, placing a kiss on his chest where the orb was and went right back to sleep with a small smile on your face. Gale carded his hand through your hair as he kissed the top of your head, silently thanking you for everything you had done for him and saying I love you in every way he knew how.

[toxicanonymity]

Brothel - Dicks

The brothel, aka real housecreeps, is a meta reality show about the Joels and other blorbos. Normally everything is smooth sailing, but we mostly air the drama.

Collect calls SPOILERS

brothel master list

Oh no, a producer leaked a copy of the dick HCs and raider Joel just sent me a dick pic with a ruler for scale, claiming I shorted him. I stared at it for a good 60 seconds, then left him on read. Now someone's knocking at my bedroom door. I ignore it and respond to the pic instead. "Sorry 😬"

Raider, muffled outside my door: Think ya might need a better look. (I don't answer) Can I at least talk to ya?

I put on my robe, begrudgingly let him in, and try not to look at the bulge in his tactical jeggings.

Raider: Production told me to take it up with you.

Me: Tell me you didn't send pictures to production. (Raider is silent.) That's sexual harassment. God damnit, in the middle of your PR tour?

Raider hangs his head and seems sorry until he unzips his tactical jeggings and that's the only reason he was looking down. I'm tempted to make him jack off just because, but I shake my head no.

Raider: Be a good girl for me and it'll be over quick.

Me: are you regressing back to March over this? Don't talk to me like a reader, and don't come in here taking your dick out.

Raider nods solemnly, and I sheepishly add under my breath, "unless I tell you to." The toilet flushes and I nervously look toward the bathroom.

Trouble walks out, fully dressed, buttoning his shirt.

Trouble, to Raider: Didn't I tell you to leave this shit alone, man?

Raider: Pool house, huh? You live in the pool house?

Raider sticks his head into the bathroom and sees there's a big, lavish bedroom connected on the other side and the bed is made. Trouble mouths to me, 'want him to leave?' and I shrug like Idk what to do.

Raider: Can you give us a minute, man?

Trouble: I think you should leave, Raid. I get you're upset but don't bust up in here at 6 in the morning.

Me: Neither of you are leaving.

I put Trouble in the cuck chair, Raider sits on the bed, and I sit down at the vanity to finish talking to him. His pants are still open but I'm not looking.

Me (attempting to be comforting) Hey, anything more than 7" is a waste anyway.

Trouble (7") nods.

Raider: this ain't about sweet pea.

Trouble: that's your issue, man.

Me, to Raider: You're the biggest one either way, why're you pitching a fit over less than a centimeter?

Raider and Trouble look at each other. Trouble shakes his head at Raider like, don't say it.

Raider: We know about him.

Oh, shit. Trouble sighs. I play stupid.

Me: you know about who?

Raider: Jojo.

Me: He doesnt have an HC.

Raider: He has a bulge.

Me: I haven't even seen his dick.

Raider: You've seen his dick print.

Me: How do you--

Raider: All I'm askin' for is accuracy, that's it. Ill do ya a dick print if ya want.

Me: Lemme talk to my dick consultant (@jazziepascal ).

Raider: What'd I do? I used to be your emotional support Joel. Your mental health Joel.

I realize maybe he could've helped me through this month if I spent more time with him.

Me: You still are, c'mere.

I open my arms for a hug. We embrace, but his dick is still hard so it's awkward. After the hug, Trouble is making a face like he wouldnt mind being cucked, but I clear my throat , adjust my robe, and dismiss both of them.

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

Later that day, the men gather in the kitchen. They're huddled around the table and you can't see Night Walks, but they're all talking to him. You can see balled up pieces of paper on the floor and and on the counter there's an open ream of printer paper and an open tub of vasoline.

Thighs Out: I think you've gotta really slap it down.

(loud smack)

Thighs Out: There ya go. Your turn, slasher.

[princeescaluswords]

Currently thinking of certain factions of fandom who tend to demonize Laura Hale. What exactly did she do that was so awful?

Leaving her injured and catatonic uncle in a care facility? Do they think he would've miraculously healed in New York if she brought him along (if that was even an option)? They seem to think she abandoned him or should've done more. What exactly, dear fandom?

Laura was a young woman who suffered a devastating loss and had to be the leader and look out for her younger brother and injured uncle. Cora was assumed dead too. Similar to Scott, she didn't ask to be alpha.

What did they expect her to do? Wage war against the perpetrators? She didn't know who was involved but she did return when Peter lured her. Fandom thinks she was unfit for the role of alpha because she wasn't ripping throats out and hunting down culprits, that she ~abandoned~ her uncle in a vulnerable state, blah blah.

The way they get angry at Scott disobeying Peter and Derek, you'd think they'd be livid over Peter killing his alpha who was also his niece who was the ~heir~ to Talia. Sacrilege!

Scott didn't ~trust~ Stiles? Well, Petey didn't trust his alpha! Why the secrecy? Why not report in immediately upon gaining consciousness?

*dons the stylish hat of Fandom Logic* Oh, oh Peter was involved in the Hale Fire! He always craved the mantle of alpha and needed Talia out of the way. But he got betrayed by Kate in the end and locked in with the rest of the family. That's why he insisted he's always been the alpha, he was promised the power if he helped destroy the pack. It's why he lured Laura back and killed her instead of communicating, he just wanted the power.

Your question puts me in mind of an argument both This Discontented Winter and Athena Dark have made to counter my indictments of fandoms worship of Peter Hale. To paraphrase TDW, "does all entertainment have to be a morality play?"

The simplistic answer to their bad faith riposte, is "No, it doesn't." You can watch two people sit in a room and not talk to each other. You can watch art hang motionless on a wall or paint dry, but these wouldn't be particularly popular forms of visual entertainment. What excites an audience is how the actors, the characters, the players treat each other, which is governed by principles concerning the distinction between right and wrong or good and bad behavior. In other words, morality.

People watch the Real Housewives franchise because they want to watch rich women behaving badly. People watch John Wick movies because they want to watch ultra violence performed without regard for human life and instead operate on a different code of behavior. Telenovelas, true crime documentaries, space operas, super hero movies -- all the pleasure their audiences gain from it revolve around decisions people make about how to treat each other. They watch it FOR the morality -- or the LACK of it.

The only forms of modern entertainment I can think of that don't focus on morality are professional sports and talent shows, and both of these take it as a given that neither side is cheating. Even Mutual of Omaha's Wild Kingdom proposed to show us the behavior of animals so we can recognize their beauty and right to exist. My apologies to the BNF, but that's morality, too.

When This Discontented Winter bemoans the idea of all entertainment as morality play and Athena Dark that storytelling doesn't have to have a message, what they are in fact arguing for is the ability to celebrate evil. To freely indulge in the type of moral equivocation that allows them to take pleasure in the triumph of a man murdering his niece for power. You know how I know this, because if they truly wanted to enjoy something without the moral dimension, they wouldn't go to such great lengths to protect their blorbos from any moral condemnation.

Thus, we get the idea that Laura deserved death because she abandoned Peter in the long-term care facility, in which he rested safely for six years without the Argents even being aware of his location. We get the idea that Laura deserved death because she didn't seek vengeance for her family, even though she was absolutely looking for the person responsible for the death of her family -- we saw actual physical evidence of it. Thus we get the idea that Peter had no idea what he was doing, that he was out of his mind, only to find out later -- when none of the other characters believe that anymore -- that he was aware of what he was doing all along.

Remember Master Plan (2x12):

Peter: No. It's a laptop. What century are you living in? A few days after I got out of the coma, I transferred everything that we had. Fortunately, the Argents aren't the only ones that keep records.

Wow, that's a remarkable amount of foresight for a person who was supposedly so out of his mind that he shouldn't be held responsible for what he did.

The true problem with BNF trying to argue that we don't have to approach the show with an eye toward morality is because the show absolutely did. It was baked into the substance of the show from the get go. The characters are formed to make choices about how they treat other people. To use their own words, we have to treat the entertainment that is called Teen Wolf as a morality play because it IS a morality play. Every story is.

And this is the problem with fandom, which I've noted again and again and again in regards to Star Wars, Shadow and Bone, and now Loki. They want to extract the characters from the moral schema in which they were situated and put them in a new situation, yet pretend that there isn't a moral dimension to this act. And there is, because this new situation is one where only certain considerations are treated as valid, mostly exploitation of the baser instincts of human nature for the benefit of a very small class of stand-ins, defined by race, class, and gender.

[ourflagmeansgayrights]

nobody thinks izzy is mean to ed “for no reason” btw. he’s got reasons! he’s got motivations! but izzy’s reasons don’t excuse him, and they’re not written to excuse him. izzy’s actions are justifiable from his perspective, but the show doesn’t agree with his perspective. yknow, because he’s an antagonist?

and an antagonist’s actions can be unjustified AND sympathetic, actually. i personally don’t find izzy to be sympathetic, but that’s just my taste in blorbos. just for an example tho: azula from avatar the last airbender is very sympathetic to me, but that doesn’t make her actions justified, yknow? she was helping her dad commit genocide. no amount of childhood trauma excuses that.

that’s where the “villain discourse” around izzy comes from. when there’s a post talking about how fucked up it was that izzy called ye olde SWAT team on the Revenge and someone argues “well, he just wanted his captain back! ed was changing and leaving izzy behind! he felt betrayed and heartbroken!” it’s like… yeah, we know??? that doesn’t make calling the navy not fucked up????

or a post about how cruel izzy’s being when he says “i should’ve let the english kill you. this… whatever it is you’ve become is a fate worse than death. edward better watch his fucking step” getting countered with “izzy thinks ed needs to be tough or else the crew is going to lose respect for ed and their respect for ed is the only reason izzy didn’t get thrown overboard” or “izzy doesn’t understand how ed is changing and he doesn’t like it” like yeah we all know that, the thing is that izzy is wrong and that’s the whole point.

idk. liking and sympathizing with izzy doesn’t have to mean misunderstanding his narrative role in season 1, y’all. he’s an antagonist, and his reasons are not meant to be excuses. if he gets a redemption arc, it’s going to be a redemption arc, not an “izzy-was-justified-the-whole-time” arc. and as long as the fandom understands that, then we’re all in agreement!

[mariequitecontrary]

Transformers: Tarot Readings (CLOSED)

A cool breeze sweeps past you, picking up fall leaves and taking them on a merry dance across the sidewalk before you. Festive lights are strung across the streets like a twinkling spiderweb draped across this unusual city.

You live in one of the only cities on earth where transformers and humans of all factions live in harmony. Chattering fills the streets as everyone admires the jack o lanterns, skeletons, and monster holograms that decorate the neighborhood. The atmosphere is relaxed and cheerful, transformers and humans alike enjoying the festive atmosphere as they head out to enjoy the celebrations.

A flickering blue light catches your eye as you walk past a dim alleyway. Curious, you step into the shadows to find a colorful shop of mystics and magics.

You walk inside to find the interior lit with wispy blue balls of light floating across the ceiling. Multi-tiered tables line the shop walls for easy access to both transformers and humans. Crystals and herbs from Earth and beyond are scattered across the surfaces, along with books, trinkets, and every other mystical tool one interested in the magical arts would need.

A bell sits on the counter with a sign that reads, ‘RING BELL FOR FREE TAROT READINGS’

What do you do?

✨

Happy Halloween! I thought it’d be fun to do some tarot readings for anyone interested!

You can request a tarot reading from me, my tfsona, or from a canon transformer of your choosing!

Feel free to rp with me or not at all! Whatever you’re comfortable with :)

You can either reblog, comment or send an ask to my inbox!

The Menu

Step One: Choose Your Reader!

Me! A little hooman!

My TFsona :)

A Transformer of Your Choosing (If I do not know your requested character well, all I’m gonna do is read the first few paragraphs of their tfwiki page and just go for it.)

Step Two: Who wants the reading?

You

A Transformer of Your Choosing (These will take longer for me to respond to since it’d probably end up being like a little Drabble on top of the reading)

Step Three: Choose Your Spread

1 Card Yes or No Question

1-3 Card Answer to a Question

1-3 Life Advice

1-3 Relationship Evaluation

1-3 A Message from Your Blorbos

1-3 Future Divination (THIS SPREAD IS SILLY AND FOR FUN ONLY LIKE A FORTUNE COOKIE!)

Disclaimers!

This is for fun only!! Take everything with a grain of salt! I am not a professional tarot reader I haven’t even memorized all the cards! I just think it’s fun!!!

I will be using my own physical deck and then sharing screenshots from the @tftarotproject! I bought both the digital and physical copies (can’t wait for the deck to come in!) and do NOT own any of the original art! If you’d like to know who the artist is, check out @tftarotproject and you’ll be able to find out who the artist is there!

Depending on the cards and the vibe of your message, my responses will range from kinda serious kinda heartfelt to SO SILLY AND SO UNSERIOUS AND CHAOTIC ENERGY! Seriously this is for fun only!

Responses will not be in depth (unless only one person wants a reading….) and will be given throughout the rest of this week.

All tarot readings that have already been sent in will be responded to! No more tarot readings will be accepted at this time :)

[vidra-comprehends]

Blorbo from my fanfics, a. k. a. the turian I have been painfully gay about for the past week or so.

Milo (pronounced 'me-lo') is my adaptation of Melenis, one of Garrus' team members in his Archangel days.

[ID: A scan of an A4 page filled with seven pencil and pen drawings of the same character. She is a light brown turian female from the Mass Effect universe with red facial markings. A downward-facing triangle covers the top of her nose, while two half-circles adorn her browplates, hinting at a full circle. Her eyes are yellow with green rims.

From the top, left to right:

A full-body drawing of Milo in an unusual red and white outfit. It looks like she wears it as casual clothing. The stretchy dark red and black fabric covering her arms hints at a large muscle mass. An independent text bubble next to her reads: 'That's our Milo.'

Milo from the waist up in custom-made Eclipse armour. She does not have any facial markings here. She is reading a datapad. She is asking someone: 'So, next meeting?' 'Ugh, do you not know how to read?' comes the answer. 'This is last week's schedule,' she explains in turn.

A child's drawing of Milo in her vigilante outfit, which is a set of dark blue armour with Archangel's sign on the front. The drawing itself shows exceptional understanding of dimension and form, but the writing next to it makes it clear that the author is still learning how to write. It takes them a few tries to spell 'vigilante' correctly, while the other side reads: 'I know she is a turian, but I want to be like her when I grow up.'

A full-body drawing of Milo looking back over her shoulder. She is wearing an unusual outfit, which uses dark blue, purple, green and yellow elements as well as various textures and patterns. A text bubble connected to her says: 'Is this comedy night? No? Then leave me alone.'

Another drawing from the waist up, but this one is more simple with only the red outlines of the person. It is clear that some areas of the body and the padded armour have blood smeared over them. Her eyes, her facial markings and the liquid oozing from her mouth are completely black. She is pointing towards the viewer. Over the apparition is black lettering that reads: 'What do I tell them, Shepard?'

A drawing showing Milo's upper body and part of her thighs. Her purple-red-black outfit is suitable for a night club's environment. Orange and blue lights shine on her from opposite sides. She rests an elbow on a counter or railing (which is not depicted), slightly leaning forward. Her expression is confident. A conversation between two unseen characters reads: 'I think I'm jealous…' 'She's working.' 'Still.'

In the last drawing, Milo is clothed in an outfit similar to the first one, but also covering her arms and using heavier fabrics. Her arms are raised in the process of some hand gesture. She looks up and to the side.]

[archive-of-fear]

Inspired by @bracketsoffear, I've finally gotten around to making this blog for my fellow terminal TMA categorisation sufferers to submit their favourite fictional blorbos and other things that absolutely definitely belong to a certain entity or two. While i'll certainly be contributing entries of my own, this will mainly be a submissions-based blog and i'm also looking for several mods to help me out managing said submissions so please message me to be added to the blog!

Submission format:

[Picture of submission*]

Name:

Source:

Entity: (or entities!)

Category: avatar/artefact/leitner etc. (see below)

Description (optional): overview and reasoning for entity alignment/s aka go absolutely ham with your infodumping. If you want to reblog and add further reasoning or even disagree and provide a counter-argument to it then please feel free! Alternatively, if you don't have the spoons for it, you can leave it out if you want.

Tags: to help me tag the post with the most widely used media/character tags etc.

*If there isn't any official art of something/someone from a non-visual medium, then just submit the official art for for the media in general OR credited fan art with permission from the artist

Categories:

Artefacts

Avatars: beings that cause fear in others. May start off as victims but ultimately must also spread and/or feed on the fear of others.

Creatures: beings that are created/formed specifically to spread their particular fear. Often part of their nature as they have no choice in the matter, unlike avatars.

Leitners: Fictional books and other pieces of text that would probably align with a particular entity or two. Doesn't necessarily have to have supernatural qualities (e.g. manifesto of an Extinction Avatar and Organisation).

Organisations

Rituals

Songs: as it says on the tin. Songs that give you vibes about a particular entity/ies

Statements: any story (movie, episode, book etc) that you think would make a good statement. Can also be just a small storyline from a side character, not just the main narrative from the perspective of the protagonist. One piece of media could have multiple "statements", depending on which character's perspective you're writing it from etc.

Strongholds

Victims

[emblemxeno]

I've been playing Fates again (thanks gay fates mod ily kiss kiss) and after (re)reading through counter-critiques of its story and generally thinking about it again I'm kinda left with the following thoughts and wanted to share as you're our resident Fates Was Good, Actually blogger.

a) so much of Fates critique falls into cinemasins-level "this isn't explicitly stated therefore BAD" territory (or otherwise stuff that shouldn't be, and often isn't, a problem in other games in the series)

b) we wouldn't need to bring up the Japanese script in contrast with the localization in the first place if the fandom hadn't completely poisoned the well in regards to talking about Fates' story. I had no idea about any of the localization changes my first play-through and I still thought Fates' plot was fine. Good, even!

The fatescourse is what made me leave the fandom around the time 3H came out, and every time I take a peek back in the subreddit or other fandom spaces it still seems to be just as much of a toxic cesspool as ever. Which sucks because I want to talk about Blorbo from my Emblems again, but I really don't want to have to deal with The Discourse & general toxicity

Hope you don't mind me posting this!

I feel you 100% and the sentiments are very appreciated, thanks!

For your first point, yeah, that's what it feels like. Saying it's CinemaSins-esque feels like a low blow, but it honestly does remind me of those videos. And they aren't meant to be actual critique! They're sarcastic entertainment and little else! But so much of Fates criticism is "why doesn't X just do Y? never explained by in-game text, so therefore story bad" or "why isn't Z plot point expanded upon? game never tells me so story bad." It's cheap and shallow, above all else. It's reminiscent of the Blue Curtains literary discourse, in that people only go with what's written explicitly rather than connect the dots from plot point to plot point. You're supposed to connect Azura's pacifying song to Mikoto's pacifying magic to Valla's history of magical development due to being directly blessed by Anankos; same with the crystal ball, water motifs, and future sight, those are all Valla-centered traits. But because the game never says "oh this is because of Valla", people think the place is just a nameless evil nation with no history or unique aspects.

For your second point, god, yes. Soooo many take any localization criticism as either a) alignment with unsavory anti-censorship anti-sjw chuds who are mostly complaining about not getting to boink lolis or b) not worth the time because "it wasn't gonna make a bad story any better anyway" which is such a gutter thing to say because localizations have literally changed things and removed crucial information in the series before Fates. The big examples being stuff with the Black Knight in the Tellius games, the long script removal in Radiant Dawn, and lines relating to Nergal's backstory in FE7 being mistranslated. Awakening had its share of localization discourse and criticism due to characters like Henry being changed, as well.

And I'm not ashamed to admit that I'm a little resentful that 3H of all games is when people started giving a shit, cuz now that a "good game with a good story is being affected, it's now worth our time."

Plus this shit is still happening, considering that FEH consistently gets stuff wrong or mistranslated to this day.

[beevean]

addendum to the 'Hector is a misogynist' being a very weird read of his character because i don't really want to put that person on blast or derail the OP lol:

Hector being an out-and-out -ist of any flavour seems odd to me because he himself was shunned and hated by society for some perceived flaw he couldn't help - i think he'd be intelligent and sensitive enough to not want to perpetuate that same kind of mindless hatred, or he wouldn't have defected

you could argue being raised in a vampire's castle that is a hotbed of evil and godlessness might have put some funny ideas in his head, and, yes, the time period certainly doesn't help but if we're going with the idea that 'church bad' and is the sole cause of misogynistic thinking, then would't that same godless environment promote beliefs that's counter to any religious doctrine? isn't that cultish 'we're all equals here' part of the appeal that made Hector stay for so long?

plus, the way Hector displays having gentlemanly manners (apologizing and bowing to Julia before taking his leave) leads me to believe that he was expressly educated against that sort of thinking - maybe only because of his role as a servant, and possibly Lisa being the only woman he'd encounter up until meeting Rosaly, coupled with her role as Lady of the Castle, meaning Hector would have to act respectfully towards her at all times, so it sort of becomes his 'default' state when interacting with any women from that point on

the most misogynistic thing Hector's actually ever done is kill his own mother, but we both know that's because she was physically abusive towards him on whats implied to be a regular basis and not just because she's a woman lmao

like. i'm not trying to be 'my blorbo is more socially aware and morally cOrReCt compared to your blorbo' but this is just. not a facet of his character that exists in any way

Like. First of all, getting over your dead wife that quickly is certainly morally questionable, but it's not what I'd call toxic masculinity. Wikipedia gives this summary:

The concept of toxic masculinity is used in academic and media discussions to refer to those aspects of hegemonic masculinity that are socially destructive, such as misogyny, homophobia, and violent domination. These traits are considered "toxic" due in part to their promotion of violence, including sexual assault and domestic violence. Socialization of boys sometimes also normalizes violence, such as in the saying "boys will be boys" about bullying and aggression.

The topic of male hegemony doesn't belong in the series at all. The absolute worst you can say is that Hector reacted to his pain with violent rage, which is a stereotypically masculine response and yes, could lead to harm. But:

unlike Dracula, who spread his misery through all of Europe and involved innocents, Hector only targeted Isaac, the primary culprit of his loss. Aside from yelling at some people, he never harms anyone who isn't directly involved in his quest.

it's stated in the game itself that that rage was exacerbated by Dracula's Curse, and when Hector realized what was going on, he was horrified, and said textually that "this is not me". It's not the same as a man killing his gf in a fit of passionate rage, because that rage wasn't even his! He was being corrupted by the Curse!

he doesn't even end up killing Isaac directly. Death uses Isaac as a vessel, which kills him, and Hector understands that he can't fully blame Isaac for his evil actions, because both of them were victim of the same Curse and manipulations. Is that toxic to you?

Hector displays unmanly signs of grief as well. He's suicidal, cries when overcome by emotion, and thinks he has to pay for the right to be loved. This is the complete opposite of toxic masculinity, that teaches men that they are entitled to women's love and sexual favors.

fucking Isaac displays more toxic masculinity than Hector. My man killed Hector's new lover out of jealousy. Sure, he also did it out of revenge and to lure him for his plan, but let's be real here: he acts like a dumped boyfriend lmao.

I wouldn't even say that Hector killing his mother was misogynistic. Aside from the fact that he also killed his father, that murder had nothing to do with gender. There is a difference between, for example, a male robber killing a female cashier during a robbing, and a man killing his ex-girlfriend because she broke up with him: only the latter is considered a femicide and an expression of misogyny.

Hector displays a chivalrous attitude towards Rosaly and Julia. He helps the former even when he didn't know how, and is almost impeccably polite towards the latter (he yells at her when he suspects she's Isaac's ally, but when she explains herself he's quick to apologize). If you want to see this as benevolent sexism, be my guest, but it is not, in any stretch of the word, toxic masculinity. It's just, well, politeness and respect.

And no, even assuming that he and Julia do end up together post game, that's not toxic masculinity either. Disrespectful towards Rosaly? Sadly yes. Disrespectful towards Julia if the main reason Hector grew attracted to her was her resemblance with Rosaly? Also sadly yes. But it is not toxic masculinity, it's not about male hegemony, it's not about normalizing male violence.

Anyway, going into headcanon territory: while Dracula isn't certainly jugging Respect Women Juice lmao, he's not an outright sexist (especially not pre-Lisa's death), so he might have taught Hector and Isaac to respect Lisa and by extention the women in the castle (except succubi, no one likes succubi lol). And yes, it could be precisely to fight back the Church-influenced sexism of the time. I can imagine Hector seeing a bit of Lisa into Rosaly too, which might have influenced him to be more respectful than he would have been at that point in time.

i also find the idea of dracula teaching his boys to not be homophobic with the exact same logic hilarious. i mean the logic flows :P

[hostilecandle]

🍏 and 🍈 for the writer asks pls!

God I'm so sorry for this ramble 🙏😅

🍏 Is there something you overuse, whether it’s a certain phrase, trope, or piece of punctuation-

Religious Imagery 😅 lmaoooo. I overuse that shit SOOO much. It's in every single fic I've ever written. Doesn't matter fluff or smut or what fandom, I always find a way to work it into the main themes. Literally writing a long af Price x Reader and its title is taken from Psalms 😅😅 I grew up a gay man in a Catholic military family in the Midwest of the United States. Gotta funnel that experience somewhere, so fics it is :D

🍈 Who’s your blorbo and what are some of your favorite headcanons/ideas about them that repeatedly show up in your fics-

Okay this said free pass to ramble about blorbo so I will be taking that opportunity here lol, so my apologies i have many thoughts about this man. I'll use CoD bc it's the fandom I'm in rn so I gotta say John Price (Both the og and reboot though I'm just gonna refer to the reboot Price for this). This man does things to my brain that need to be studied under a microscope I swear 😵‍💫😵‍💫 I have a whole ass character study of him written that's several pages long and I'm still not done.

Headcannons for him (some I've written, some just vibes):

-This man SCREAMS a good ol future midwestern dad type in the making to me. He loves to hunt and fish. He loves the solitude and quiet of both activities, even if he doesn't get anything. Its just peaceful. There is always a beer in the fridge for when the game is on. When he's got a family/partner/retired (whatever you'd prefer), he's a yard guy (yall know the type). I just feel like he cannot sit still when he's home. He's gotta be doing something with himself after years of keeping busy. He's got all the fun toys like a riding mower that is so unnecessary for the yard size but makes him happy. He's always outside in the spring/summer doing something to the yard and god forbid the grass get too tall. He's also not big on socializing with neighbors, a very much a keep to himself and/or his family kinda guy, but he's always SO polite and the ladies in his neighborhood love him.

-From my own homelife experience but it just feels so Price, when he's home he's AWFUL about just leaving his firearm on the counter or coffee table or bed side. Just wherever he remembered to take it off and set down and it's just another thing to forget where he set it like his phone and wallet. Speaking of, he's terrible about losing his phone/keys/wallet/etc. He has a little dish by the entry that he swears he puts it all into but they're never there when he goes to leave and he has to scramble to find them every time

-He's a coffee drinker (black with just a little sugar) and unironically loves to read the paper whenever he gets the chance. He's a small talker and enjoys it, he talks about the weather, gas prices, taxes, and match scores. He gets bored easily when just waiting around and will chat with just about anyone

-He has horrific night terrors and carries a lot of guilt for things he's done in his job. He firmly believes it was all necessary and worth it for the greater good but he wrestles with himself a lot. I personally like to think when Gaz pushes him on it after the interrogation in MW, it actually rattled him a bit. Not because he felt any guilt necessarily for what had just happened (I don't think he felt any in that instance), but because that's one of the first times someone else has pressed him on his moral convictions. "You draw the line where you need it" is not a belief that comes from nowhere or from a man who hasn't wrestled with himself and asked himself the very same questions Gaz was throwing at him. He meant every word he said though and while I feel guilt will catch up to him in the late hours of the night some nights after years of living like this, he fully believes he's justified in everything he does and it's integral to his character and who John Price is as a person

-He's a staunch atheist. Baptized but never believed in a God really anyways but after the things he's seen, he can't find it in himself to even entertain the thought. That being said, in the bottom of his desk is one of those old fashioned crosses that's hollow that holds holy water and one's last will and testament. Obviously being in the military there's already the records of his will but keeps that in his desk regardless because on the off chance he's wrong about there not being a God, it doesn't hurt to be safe.

He's SUCH a Girl Dad™ in the making. He would THRIVE with having a daughter. I'm talking the tea parties, tiaras, letting her put makeup on him, his nails, all of it. He'd support her in any endeavors growing up and would do his damndest to be in the crowd any chance he can get. He'd be her biggest fan. Pictures of her on his desk, in his wallet. Always bragging about his daughter when he gets the chance because he'd be so proud of her

He's a salt of the earth kinda guy. Just has very classic masculinity. Like he's a Man™ and takes pride in it. But its in the, "I'm gonna take care of everything because this is how I care for what's important to me" way. He enjoys being the handyman around the house and who people come to because they respect him. He has a Project Car in the garage that he swears he'll get to and the back is littered with power tools and lumber

(Okay this parts not headcannon because he not old, he's only 37!!) He's actually very tech savvy and likes things to be as up to date as he can get so everything runs smooth.

He feels personally responsible for the wellbeing of the other main 3 of 141 but not in a fatherly way like people think, but these men are his brothers and he hand picked them, he has so much faith in their abilities. (However he unwittingly becomes a mentor figure to Soap very much against his knowledge and will lol)

He had to shave once for an Op and the boys ragged him so hard he refuses to ever shave again. Genuinely fucked him up a bit lol

He has a temper. He's got a good lid on it 99% of the time but its always simmering underneath

Has a wicked sense of humor. Most people don't know or recognize it but he's actually the funniest person in the 141. He's always cracking jokes to break the tension but he says it with such a straight face before breaking into smile to let you know he's joking.

[insomnikat-mused]

I'd like to see you do Tsunade and Ino for the blorbo bingo :)

And, I have a question.

What Naruto characters do you dislike?

Hi, friend! Using this blorbo bingo template:

Did I absolutely dislike everything she represented as a shounen character design when she was first introduced? Yes. Did I associate the negative context of breasting boobily for the longest time to her and hold resentment that she was in a series that consistently introduced super-interesting badass women only to ignore their accomplishments in favor of framing their (solely romantic) role in the male counterpart's development and story arc? Yes.

And I'm not taking evidence-based counter arguments. I'm purely talking about the generally canonical feeling that she was designed for boys (men) to 'safely' oggle at while pretty much every other female character was underage pre-Shippuden.

I like Ino because she is the only "main" female character to overcome the kunoichi curse of being loyal to that one guy she had a crush on from childhood and actually grow up and move on to a much healthier relationship with a GOOD family dynamic in which she's clearly established and respected as the clan leader. My headcanons of her are mostly how she'd look around at every other kunoichi (mainly Sakura) and go "giiiiirl, that ain't normal. You can't possibly be happy. Leave his ass!"

As for a Naruto character I dislike, it's Iruka. I never understood why so much of fandom believed he was a good, better sensei than Kakashi. And due to the combination of TWO bad beta experiences and just overall bad awful OOC vibes with the Iruka-stans part of fandom, I am DNI with people who post about Iruka and ship him in any way (but especially KakaIru).