#let's just say that we have many good ideas and if we put our brilliant brains together then we're gonna make something beautiful

[smileysuh]

dumb frat boy

🌙 starring. Lee Donghyuck x afab!Reader

🔮 preview. “I’d ask what you want me to do to you, but I did some research last night, watched some of that Hentaid shit you were talking about. It’s a lot of bondage, isn’t it, Angel? A lot of… creampies. You’ve got a thing for being held down and filled, huh? I guess…” he lets out a small laugh, “I guess I’m a little shocked, seeing as you’re so sassy with me. Guess you just want someone to put you in your place. What is it you called Johnny? A good daddy dom? I might not always be a dom, but for you, I can make it work.” 

tw/cw. yandere/stalker sub themes, ‘unknown’ caller, he’s horny, mentions of porn/masturbation, weed/alcohol use, unprotected sex, oral (m/f receiving), deep throating, face fucking, nipple pinching/nipple worship, fingering, dirty talk, praise, hyuck has a thick cock, cum/fullness kink, creampie, etc… I pet names: (hers) Angel (his) baby.

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 9.1k

🍭 aus. uni/frat au, yandere subthemes, Halloween, etc…

☀️ mlist + an.  We're back in the Ghostie au! I'm so happy to be able to put out a fic for Hyuck a year after the original story captivated so many of us <3

Prologue

“I’ve got the best idea ever,” Hyuck says the moment after he’s released his first breath from the bong.

Johnny lets out a sigh, leaning back in his recliner. “This better not be another themed wet tittie car wash fundraiser.”

“Excuse me, that idea was brilliant- pairing up with our sister sorority and being horny on cars while in costumes that somewhat resembled cars from the Disney movie Cars made us more cash for the Humane Society than we’ve ever raised, so dial it down on your tone there, Ghostie.” 

The elder frat boy rolls his eyes at the nickname. When word got out about how he wooed his girlfriend last Halloween, the term ‘Ghostie’ ended up sticking, and Johnny’s never been able to let down the sexy stalker angle, even this year's pledges know about it.

“As I was saying,” Hyuck continues, “I figure I’ll take a page out of your book, and do some weird phone call thing to woo my Angel.”

“Oh, so you’re finally gonna admit your feelings to your best friend?�� Johnny asks in shock, sitting up to take a better look at the younger frat boy.

“Yes, but after a week of toying with her,” Hyuck announces. “It will be fun. We all know she got her nickname Angel because she’s really more of a demon, she’s going to love this shit.”

“Well, I guess you know her better than I do,” Johnny muses. “So what’s the plan?”

“Basically, you took the best phone call stalker with Ghost Face, but I figure there are other options out there. Have you ever seen Black Christmas?” 

“Like… the one from the seventies?” Johnny’s apprehension is clear in his features, and he reaches for the bong to take another hit.

“Yeah, the one where the dude calls the sorority and is a horny fuck on the phone.”

“Isn’t there some weird incest plot and jaundice thing in the second movie though?”

“No one watches the second movie! We don’t claim the way they butchered the story with that!” Hyuck exclaims, feeling agitated already. 

“I feel like, if you called her, and did the whole Black Christmas thing, she wouldn’t know what the fuck movie you’re referencing.” 

“They did a remake in 2019,” Hyuck insists.

“Did anyone actually watch it though?” Johnny’s an avid horror film lover, and if he hasn’t seen the remakes, it’s not looking good for you to be able to pick up the references, a thought that throws Hyuck off.

However, even though he’s been swayed, Hyuck won’t give up on this idea. “Look, think of it as a Love is Blind sort of thing- I can make her fall in love with me over the phone, and then when I reveal myself as her best friend, she’ll be all ‘woah, we’re soulmates!’”

Johnny looks as skeptical as ever. “Are you sure that’s the way this is going to go?”

Hyuck scrunches his nose up in distaste at the lack of support. “Yes.” 

The elder frat boy takes in a deep breath, shaking his head. “If this is what you want to do, I won’t stop you. I just… I think your Angel would react better if you were just straight up with her. Maybe there’s a reason the two of you have never gone past the friend stage. I think the good thing about me doing this last year, was I was just acquaintances with Tiny, I made it clear off the bat that I just wanted to know her better. If she didn’t want me, then that would be fine. If you do this with Angel, and she finds out it’s you and doesn’t return your feelings, you’re going to ruin a friendship.”

Hyuck thinks about what Johnny’s just said as he watches the tall resident Ghostie take another bong hit. It’s true- In Hyuck’s heart of hearts, he knows that… there must be a reason the two of you have never hooked up, but it’s a reason he’s never been able to identify.

The cocky side of him refuses to believe it’s because you’re not attracted to him- there’s definitely sexual tension between the two of you, so it must be something else. 

He’s so tired of toeing the line, especially since you’ve always been kindred, mischievous, horny little souls.

You were with Hyuck when he pranked Sigma Veta Tau last Christmas and put glitter on their ceiling fans. You were with Hyuck when he put a rotisserie chicken in Alpha Tappa Zeta’s air vents. In fact, you’ve been present at almost all of Hyuck’s master plan shenanigans. 

There’s something going on between the two of you and he knows it. 

Last year, when Johnny had pulled his little semi-stalker Ghostie stunt, Hyuck had noted that whoever was behind the anonymous calls had some balls to hit on a girl that way, and he’ll be damned if he doesn’t live up to that.

“Listen,” Hyuck sighs. “This is between us. Angel is going to try to figure out who’s calling her, and I need you to keep your mouth shut, okay?”

“Fine,” Johnny agrees, shaking his head. “Hyuck, I love you, but sometimes I forget how much of a dumb frat boy you are.” 

“You know what?” Hyuck grabs at the bong. “I’ll take that as a fucking compliment.” 

Sunday

You’re in the middle of a much-needed nap. Curled up on your fuzzy blankets, your textbook long since discarded while your mood lighting twinkles through the space, it’s the most comfortable you’ve been all term. It’s late October, the nights come early, and you’re starting to not mind the cool air that seeps through the crack in your window.

It’s because you’re dead asleep, that when your phone rings, you don’t even check who’s calling. You simply bolt up, dazed and confused, reaching to pull your cell to your ear. 

“Hello?”

At first, all you hear is breathing on the other end of the line, and you roll your eyes. You’re no stranger to dumb calls, spam calls, and the like- but then, “Angel?”

Well, this is definitely not a spam caller, they wouldn’t know your nickname if it was.

“Who’s this?” you ask, pulling your phone away from your ear to look down at your screen. It’s a ‘No Caller ID,’ and you let out another exasperated sound.  

“A friend,” the person on the other end of the line tells you. 

“A friend I don’t have in my contacts?” you scoff.

“Burner phone, baby.”

“And what would be the point of getting a burner phone just to call little ol’ me?” you sigh, relaxing against your pillows and pinching the bridge of your nose in annoyance. 

“Why so serious, Angel?”

“Jeeze, dude, if you’re going to do the whole creepy caller before Halloween cliche, at least stick to your character.” You can’t believe he’s quoting Health Ledger’s Joker at you now. “Who are you even trying to be? Ghost Face is so last Halloween, we all know Johnny knocked that shit out of the park. A copycat sequel is just… early 2000’s.”

“Okay, let me drop character for just a second,” the man on the other end of the line sighs, and you giggle at how his voice modulator emphasizes his own exasperation. “Think, horny telephone guy.”

“I wouldn’t call Ghost Face particularly horny, he was just a nerd.”

“I’m not Ghost Face!” he insists. “Scream came out in the mid-nineties, think earlier than that.” 

“What, am I supposed to be some kind of horror movie expert?” you scoff. 

“Fine, I’ll just tell you,” the guy sighs. “Have you seen Black Christmas?”

“Never even heard of it.”

“Fuck,” he curses. “Well, don’t go watch it, it has some cult following but it’s not even one of my favourites- the reason I chose the dude from that movie is because he’s a horny little fuck and calls a sorority house and some shit- and also, don’t look up the second movie, I don’t claim the sequel.” 

“Wow, I love that you chose a character based purely on horniness and not if the movie is even good,” you giggle.

“Well, Johnny took the best slasher caller! What was I supposed to do? Go all ghost child from The Black Phone movie?”

“What’s The Black Phone movie?”

“Ethan Hawke? Horror veteran, who plays the hero author in Sinister, turned bad guy in the 2021 film by the same director?” 

You let out a whistle. “TBH, dude, it sucks Johnny got to Ghostie first last year, because I’d bet money you know more about horror movies than he does.”

“I one hundred percent do!” 

“Okay, so back to the point,” you laugh. “You’re calling me as this horny dude from some Halloween Christmas movie- for what?”

“To talk to you?” he suggests. “To uh… be horny… at you?” 

“And what does this accomplish? I mean- we all know Johnny’s Ghostie story from last year, he called a girl every day, told her to come to his frat party, and revealed himself there. Is that your game plan?”

“I was thinking about it, but it sounds kind of lackluster now.”

“That’s because it’s not an original idea at all,” you point out.

“Sequels aren’t always original,” the man counters. “Lots of movies have the same plot just different characters, some recurring- look, it doesn’t have to be original. The original angle to this Halloween movie is that I’m going to be way more horny than Johnny probably ever was last year.” 

“And I’m just going to allow that?” you grin. 

“Yeah, because we both know why you have your nickname, don’t we, Angel? You’re a dirty little minx, and you’re going to love this.”

“Except, what if, Halloween comes, and you’re a frat guy that I think is ugly?” you ask. “If you know me, you know I have very specific tastes. There’s only a handful of guys I’d actually be interested in, what makes you think you’re one of them?”

The line is dead for a few stagnant seconds, then, “I just am, okay?”

“Cocky little fucker,” you giggle.

“Don’t be rude.” 

At this point, you’re pretty sure you know who’s on the other end of the line. 

There’s been a few tells from your best friend, Donghyuck. For example, he’s the biggest actual horror buff in the NCT frat. He idolizes Johnny, and was always salty that Mark got the Chicago man as a Big and not himself, so he had a close eye on the events that took place last year in NCT’s ‘Ghostie’ Saga. On top of all of this, there’s an extreme familiarity in the way he’s talking to you, a preexisting natural tint to his diction. Lastly, Hyuck’s the cockiest little dumb frat boy of them all, and it’s one of the reasons you’ve always loved him… one of the reasons you’ve also always kept a bit of distance from your best friend whenever situations have had the option of turning romantic.

Well, if this is how he wants to make his move at you, so be it.

Maybe he’ll convince you that he can be more than a good fuck- you’d never risk your friendship for a one-night stand, no, he’ll have to prove that he could go all in, that he deserves you.

And if all else is just extra, you can at least have some fun toying with Hyuck while he thinks he’s the one toying with you. 

“Okay,” you sigh, stretching. “Let's do this, but we can start tomorrow, you woke me up from a nap, and I’d very much like to get back to it.” 

Monday

“I’m not waking you up from a nap, am I, Angel?” 

“Nope,” you grin, mischief working its way through your mind as you think of the best way to throw Hyuck off. “I was just watching some porn, flicking the bean, you know, that sort of thing.”

You hear him choke. “F… Flicking the bean?”

“Come on, you have to have heard of flicking the bean!” you insist. “Buddy, you’re the one who’s supposed to be calling me to be horny, this is your perfect opportunity!”

“Right, I uh…” he coughs. “How’s… how’s the bean flicking going?”

“Dude, do you know anything about seduction?” you scoff. “‘How’s the bean flicking going,’” you imitate. “Lame!”

“Rude!” he counters.

God, he’s so obviously Hyuck and you bet he doesn’t even realize it. 

“You know what, if you must ask, the bean flicking is going really well.”

“What kind of porn do you watch?” he questions next. 

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” you tease.

“Tell me,” Hyuck insists. 

“Might have to get you to beg if you want to hear those kinds of details.”

“I’m the creepy phone stalker, I call the shots.”

You roll your eyes. “Sure you do, buddy.” 

“Stop calling me buddy.”

“Okay, dude.”

“Don’t call me dude either!”

“Then what am I supposed to call you? It’s not like anyone knows the name of the slasher from Halloween Christmas, or whatever. You’re no Ghost Face, friend.”

“It’s Black Christmas,” he corrects you. “And I’m pretty sure his name is Billy.”

“Wow, how sexy, Billy,” you scoff. “You really didn’t think this one through that well, did you, buddy?”

“Original Ghost Face is who? Stu Matcher and Billy fucking Loomis,” Hyuck points out. “It’s not the worst name in the world.”

“Tell me one person who refers to Ghost Face as Billy Loomis though, one person, and I’ll tell you what porn I watch.”

“The… screenwriter?”

“Jesus Christ, dude. That’s such low-hanging fruit.”

“Now tell me what porn you watch.” 

You let out a deep sigh. “All this bickering has me not in the mood anymore.”

“Weird, I’m extra in the mood now.”

“Cuz you’re a weirdo who gets off on play fighting, I bet.” 

His voice takes on a whiney pitch when he says, “Tell me what porn you watch!” 

“Honestly?” You’re tired of this conversation, but you see one last opportunity to toy with Hyuck before you hang up. “Hentaid on Porn Hub, I’m all about that alien, tentacle shit,” your voice takes on the air of a damsel in distress when you muse, “No mortal man can ever satiate me, I’m afraid.”

“Holy shit,” Hyuck whispers. “Are you for real? Tentacle porn?”

“Uh huh, now, goodnight, buddy.” You hang up on Hyuck with a shit-eating grin on your face, knowing you’ve left him something to think about. 

Tuesday

“Hey,” you say, sitting down next to your best friend in the on-campus burger joint where you spend your Tuesday two-hour period between classes. “I’ve got something to talk to you about.”

Hyuck is mid-bite of a burger, and he holds up a hand, covering his obnoxious eating style. “Just a sec,” he mumbles. 

You wait patiently, staring at your friend while he finishes up. He’s in a black hoodie, and black t-shirt, and his laptop is open next to where he’s eating his combo meal. He’s usually here before you are, scoping out a booth and food so you two can chill in peace before your shared history course. 

History isn’t your major per se, it’s more of a special interest, and the same goes for Hyuck. He’s a film major- another obvious dent in his plan to fly under the radar as your phone stalker who just happens to know everything about horror movies. 

“Okay,” Hyuck says, swallowing the last of his large bite of food. “What’s up?”

“So on Sunday, I got a phone call from some dude with a burner phone,” you explain, watching closely as Hyuck’s brows raise just a moment too late to be legitimate surprise.

“Yeah? What did he say?”

“He’s trying to recreate Johnny’s whole Ghostie thing from last year, but as is the case with most sequels in the horror genre, he’s kind of missing the mark.”

Hyuck chokes a little on his food, and he reaches for his Coke to wash it down. “What’s he doing wrong?”

“What an odd question, Hyuck,” you say, narrowing your eyes at him. “But, to answer it, he’s just… not loose enough. He feels too rigid. I gave him an in last night, if you know what I mean, and he just, fumbled it.”

“An in?” Hyuck cocks his head to the side, “what do you mean?”

“You know, an opportunity to be horny with me.”

“And you want him to be horny with you?”

“I mean, that’s the whole point isn’t it? He promised me he’d be more horny than Johnny was last year, but I feel like Johnny probably had this whole daddy dom thing down- I don’t know what this new guy is trying to give, but he’s not giving, you feel me?”

“Huh, that’s weird,” Hyuck shrugs, picking up his burger again. “Do you have any guesses who it might be?”

You shrug. “He told me it was someone I think is hot. So that means it could be Jaehyun- God, you know how sexy I think Jaehyun is,” - you’re relishing in the way you get to tease Hyuck like this - “it could be Jeno, or Jaemin- I don’t think I’d even mind if both of them came up to me on Halloween, full original Scream style- Jaemin is definitely the Stu Matcher character, though.” 

“Jeeze, Angel,” Hyuck grimaces, putting his burger down and leaning back in the booth. “Do you have to talk about two of my best friends tag teaming you while I’m eating?”

“Sorry, babes,” you snicker. “I just think this week is going to be fun, and I can’t wait for my Billy Halloween Christmas stalker to find his A-game.”

You half expect Hyuck to correct you on the movie title, and you see him bite his tongue, fighting the urge to throw his own cover under the bus in a bid to protect the sanctity of cult films. But alas, Hyuck shuts himself up with another bite of his burger, and with one last look at your friend, you pull out your laptop to actually get some work done.

Wednesday

“Hey, bud,” you answer your call with a grin, twirling your hair around your finger while your eyes skim your textbook. “What happened yesterday? You never called.”

“You looked busy,” comes a curt retort.

“Oh… did you see me with Hyuck?” you stifle a laugh, of course he’s going to play this jealousy angle, when in reality, he was probably just butthurt about you toying with him. 

“It was hard not to notice you with him,” he responds. 

“Someone sounds jealous.”

“What’s your relationship with him?”

God, Hyuck must be very desperate to be trying to get details out of you about how you feel about him, through his alter ego.

You take a deep breath, closing your book and leaning back in your chair. “We’re close,” you start.

“But just friends.” 

“Just friends,” you confirm. “I guess, I mean, obviously he’s cute. There’s no argument about Hyuck being cute. And he’s fun, he’s cocky, he’s mischievous- I guess my one concern with him is if he could do something long term. I may come off as a dirty little demon child, but in reality- I don’t want to put all my eggs in one guys basket if he’s busy collecting eggs, if that makes any sense.”

“You want a guy who just wants you, who puts in the effort.”

“Exactly.” 

“I’m putting in effort,” your ‘mystery man’ points out.

“I suppose this could be considered effort.” 

“I spent twenty five bucks on this burner phone.”

“Wow, buddy, that must have broke the bank.” 

“I have money!” he insists.

Hyuck definitely has money, it’s one of the reasons he’s probably so cocky. He comes from a large line of Lee’s, a family group that owns development all around the country. You’ve tried not to let any gold digging inklings stain your perception of the frat boy though, that wouldn’t be fair to him.

“Hey, friend?” you ask, choosing a base level nickname for this man who is clearly Hyuck.

“Yes, Angel?”

“Were you thinking about it yesterday?”

“Thinking about what?”

“Me, you know… watching alien tentacle porn and flicking my bean.” You try to make your voice sound innocent, but you can’t help the mischievous grin that works it’s way onto your face. 

You can hear him swallow thickly. “Hold that thought, I’m going to call you back.” 

“Wait-” before you can get an explanation, the line goes dead, and you release an annoyed huff, crossing your arms over your chest.

He’s such a little shit, leaving you hanging like this-

Two minutes go by, then five- and just as you’re starting to be really annoyed, Hyuck calls you back.

“Took you long enough,” you snap.

“Listen, Angel, I needed to get in the mood. I’m too rigid talking to a pretty girl like you, had to take some of the load off.” You can tell, even under his modulated voice, that Hyuck has most definitely just gotten into some weed.

This is so classic him- and to be completely fair, you’ve witnessed the effects of Mary-Jane on one mister Lee Donghyuck. He’s much more suave while green, less anxious, more willing to take risks.

“So, to answer your question,” Hyuck continues, letting out a breath. “I have been thinking about you. Been thinking about your cute voice, how it would sound begging, whining, whimpering- what little noises you’d make choking on cock, or tentacle-” Hyuck laughs. “I’ll be honest, I don’t have an octopus dick or anything. If you let me, you’ll have to be okay with a human style back breaking.” 

You’re shocked.

Had he really just said all of this to you?

Was weed all it took for him to pull up his big boy panties and lay some actual sin onto you?

You can’t ignore the way your pussy flutters with interest at his words, and you shift uncomfortably in your chair. “I’m sure we can make it work… what kind of tool are you packing, buddy?” 

Hyuck chuckles. “It’s thick, I think it will do the job.”

Hyuck isn’t the tallest frat boy, but in no way is he the smallest either. He’s average, and to think that he has an above average girthy dick- well, you can’t help lick your lips in interest. 

“Stalker got your tongue, Angel?” Hyuck asks. “You’ve just gone awfully quiet.”

“I’m just…” you swallow thickly. “Just thinking.”

“About my thick cock splitting you open?” 

God, your pussy is throbbing now- “How… our first few calls were so awkward-”

“I promised you dirty, didn’t I? Needed some courage first, but… I can tell you’re not mad about it.” 

You’re definitely not mad about it.

You think maybe part of you would be upset if you didn’t know your ‘mystery caller’s’ identity- but the safety of knowing, in your heart of hearts, that this is Hyuck- it changes everything, and you can allow yourself to feel the pleasure already beating through you.

“I’d ask what you want me to do to you, but I did some research last night, watched some of that Hentaid shit you were talking about. It’s a lot of bondage, isn’t it, Angel? A lot of… creampies. You’ve got a thing for being held down and filled, huh? I guess…” he lets out a small laugh, “I guess I’m a little shocked, seeing as you’re so sassy with me. Guess you just want someone to put you in your place. What is it you called Johnny? A good daddy dom? I might not always be a dom, but for you, I can make it work.” 

“So…” you find it hard to even speak because he’s so right about his assessment that it hurts. “So… you’re more of a switch?”

“I can be. Generally, I’m not about strict roles in the bedroom, but if you’re into that sort of thing, I can see what it’s about.” 

“Tell me more about being a switch?”

“Don’t want to give you too many details about myself, these calls are about you, Angel.” 

You let out a groan.

“Be patient,” he reminds you. “And tell me, are you as wet right now as I am hard?”

This time, the sound you release is really more of a moan, and it makes Hyuck chuckle darkly.

“I’ll take that as a yes… are you gonna touch yourself after this? Gonna do all the work I can’t do, not yet, anyway.” 

“Maybe…”

“I like the thought of that, two horny people, whacking off together after a phone call, different rooms, but we’ll be on each other’s minds.” 

You get the suspicion that Hyuck is going to be on your mind for a whole lot longer than simply your upcoming bean-flicking session. 

Thursday

“I’m here, I’m here! What’s the emergency!” Mark asks, out of breath, his cheeks flushed from the cold outside and having just run across campus.

“It’s not an emergency, don’t worry, just sit!” you tell him, pushing out a chair.

“Angel, you texted me, and I quote,” he pulls out his phone, “911, meet me at our spot in the library asap.”

“Well, I wanted you to come,” you shrug.

“God, you’re as much of a drama queen as Hyuck is,” Mark sighs, taking his seat across from you. 

“Speaking of Hyuck…” you grin, leaning forward and clasping your hands together, “your roommate decided to go full Ghostie this year.”

“Wait, he’s not doing Ghost Face for Halloween-”

“No, I mean, like, stalker phone call Johnny Ghostie,” you clarify. 

“What?” Mark’s expression is blank, and he looks completely unimpressed.

“Basically, he called me on Sunday, did this whole thing about doing a Black Christmas character or some shit- he’s been calling me from a burner phone with a voice modulator-”

“Jesus Christ,” Mark sighs, covering his eyes with his hand. 

“The moral of the story is, Halloween night, I’m calling dibs on your room.”

“My room?” Mark peaks out at you through his fingers.

“Your roommate has to get laid. Actually, scratch that, I have to get laid… with your roommate.” 

“This is so-” Mark groans. “I thought we were over this stalker Halloween thing to get girls. Don’t any of us have respect or standards anymore?”

“You’re frat boys, Mark, so the answer on that one is going to be a no from me.”

“Why are you even into this?” Mark questions further. “Like- what’s so sexy about any of this?”

“I mean… it shows Hyuck cares?”

“He cares enough to get a burner phone and a voice modulator and call you and be creepy and horny? Wow, what a huge chivalrous act of love.” 

You narrow your eyes at Mark Lee. “I’m not enjoying your sarcasm, mister.”

“And I’m not enjoying this,” Mark retorts, pointing between the two of you. “Fuck, fine, have my room on Halloween.”

“Last thing though, Hyuck can’t know that I know that he’s the one calling me.” 

“Wait, so this isn’t a bit? He’s committed to trying to trick you?” Mark leans back in his chair, his expression getting even more bleak. “The two of you are crazier than I thought.” 

As you open your mouth to respond, your phone rings, and you look down to see Hyuck’s burner ‘No Caller ID.’

“Heya, buddy,” you answer, bringing your finger to your lips to shush Mark.

“Watcha up to?”

“Just in the library with a friend.”

Hyuck’s tone shifts. “Which friend?”

“Mark, you probably know him.”

“Of course I know fucking Mark. Why’s he with you?” 

“Just chatting… why? You jealous?”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No!”

“Yes!” You let out a laugh. “Buddy, settle down, we both know I’m not into Mark Lee, we’ve talked about this before.”

“We’ve never talked about Mark,” Hyuck responds, and you realize, you may have just betrayed that you know who he is-

“I mean, he wasn’t on my list with Jaehyun, or Jeno, or Jaemin-” you quickly cover your blunder, and Hyuck releases an annoyed sound.

“I get it, I get it,” he groans. “Fine, finish up your time with fucking Mark, then.” 

“Don’t be salty about this,” you warn.

“Yeah, whatever.” 

Friday

It’s the final day before Halloween, and if there’s one thing you know for sure, it’s that Hyuck is working. The SVT and NCT frats are the primary workers at the on-campus bar, Skeets, so they have a deal that NCT works the Friday before Halloween, and SVT works the Saturday. 

Knowing these details, you’re also aware that it’s possible Hyuck won’t be home till three am, so you’re a little shocked when you get a call at one.

“Hi, Angel.”

“If it isn’t my favorite stalker,” you grin, pausing your horror film- in all truth, you’d decided to watch Black Christmas, and now you can see why Hyuck told you not to bother, he hasn’t nailed the deranged attitude of the main villain at all. 

“Watcha doin?”

“Not much, you?”

“Not much,” he responds.

“Are you sure?” you counter. “Cuz something tells me maybe you’re working right now… did you get a break, buddy?”

“I’m not working,” he insists. 

“Sure you’re not,” you laugh, dropping the line of questioning. “Hey, tell me again why you chose Billy from Black Christmas?” 

“Seriously?” Hyuck lets out a sigh. “I guess I just wanted… an excuse to be horny on the phone for you, even if it’s just for a week.”

He sounds defeated, and you’re not shocked. Halloween is the busiest night of the year at the bar Hyuck works at, if anything, you’re surprised he even had a moment to dip outside and call you.

“You’re cute,” you muse. “You sound tired, so I’ll let you go, but uh… I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?”

“You will.”

“And how will I know it’s you?” 

“You just will, goodnight, Angel.” 

Saturday 

You’ve just arrived at the frat party, and already, you’re on the hunt for Hyuck.

At this point, you’re tired of the games. You feel closer to Hyuck, in some odd, sinister sort of way- closer than you ever have before. And you’re tired of hiding it, tired of this weird cat and mouse- you just want to have a conversation with him, to get everything out into the open so you can truly discuss your feelings.

You find him by the beer pong table. He’s in a full denim fit, and you can’t put your finger on who he is as you approach.

“Hey, Hyuck,” you greet, tucking into his side so he can hear you over the music. “Nice Canadian Tuxedo.”

“Do you know who I am?” he asks.

“Uh…” You look at him blankly. “Are you talking about your denim costume? Or the way you’ve been calling me all week?”

Hyuck stares at you in shock. “Uh…” he clears his throat. “I’m Ken… you know, from the Barbie movie.” 

“Right…” you trail off, wondering if he’s going to touch on the Black Christmas side of things.

“Also… what do you mean? About me calling you all week?”

“Hyuck,” you sigh. “Please don’t try to avoid this. Just be honest. It’s you. I know it’s you.” 

He looks at you, and you can see the cogs turning in his mind.

“You told me you’d reveal yourself tonight,” you continue. “I know I kind of just threw you under the bus, maybe I ruined your master plan or something, but I’m tired of pretending I don’t know it’s one of my best friends who’s been calling me all week being horny.”

“Are you mad at me?” he asks, voice lowering. His eyes search yours, as if he’s trying to get a read on you.

“Hyuck,” you let out a laugh, “I’m not mad at all, but I think we should go to your room and talk this out a little, don’t you?”

“I guess that’s a good idea,” he acquiesces. 

“Then let’s go.” You grab his hand, lacing your fingers so you can drag him to the stairs that lead to the second floor. You don’t say anything as you move, you’re on a mission, and what you need to discuss with him is better said alone than in a crowd of horny Halloween partygoers.

You make it to the privacy of his room, and you shut the door behind you. “So?”

“So?” Hyuck moves through the space, and you notice him heading for his bong.

“Hey, don’t do that,” you sigh.

“Don’t do what?” he asks.

“You don’t need to get high to have this conversation.”

“I don’t?”

“No.” You shake your head. “I don’t want you to be high when we do this.” 

Hyuck lets out another deep breath. “This isn’t how I planned things.”

“Yeah, I guess not,” you admit, watching him take a seat on his bed. “How did you see tonight panning out?” 

“I suppose I figured I could get some drinks in, liquid courage, that sort of thing. And then, maybe I’d reveal myself at the end of the night or something.”

“Are you really so scared of me that you need to be drinking to confess how you feel?” you ask, melting a little. You approach Hyuck, sitting carefully on the bed next to him while he faces clear inner turmoil.

“I’m not afraid,” he states, but you can tell from the tone of his voice that there’s something else going on. “I just… You told me you only want a man who can commit, a guy who only has eyes for you- and, I do, but… we both know my playboy track record, and I guess… I just worry about hurting you.”

“Do you want to hurt me?” you question, tilting your head as you try to understand him.

“No, never.”

“Do you think you’re at the point where you could settle down a little? I’m not trying to get you to stop partying, I just mean… committing to one girl, is that something you think you’re capable of?”

“If it’s you, then yeah… I think so,” he nods, finally meeting your eyes.

He looks so vulnerable, and it’s very different from how you usually view your mischievous friend.

“Hyuck,” you whisper, unable to help the way your hand raises to cup his cheek. “I’m willing to give this a shot if you are. If there’s something real here, and it’s not just you being a horny, dumb frat boy.”

“Okay, rude,” Hyuck laughs, showing you a glimmer of the him that you know and love, “It’s more than being horny… but… in all honesty, seeing you in this fucking faerie costume has me all hot and bothered.”

“Yeah?” You lean closer, grinning. Your lips ghost over his when you say your next words, “So what are you gonna do about it?”

Hyuck sucks in a sharp breath, his pupils dilating- you’re so close to him, and you can make out all the pretty shades of brown in his irises. Gosh, he really is a pretty frat boy. 

His hands find your hips, and he tugs your body closer. You can feel him breathing, his gaze darting between your own and your mouth. You watch his tongue dip out to wet his lips, and he swallows thickly.

“Fuck it,” he mutters, finally smashing his lips to your own. 

It’s not gentle by any means, but it’s not necessarily aggressive either- one word to describe this kiss, is: desperate. He’s so eager, and you kind of love it, love the way he tugs you flush to his own body, one hand moving to cup your cheek- his tongue glides against your own and you stifle a moan, shifting in his embrace so you can wrap your arms around his neck.

It feels so good to be pressed against him like this- you’re actually kind of shocked at how good it feels. And his hands, exploring your body, keeping you close, fingers digging into your hips-

Hyuck is everywhere, devouring you like you’re his last meal.

“Oh,” you whisper, when Hyuck’s mouth moves to your neck. “By the way, I called dibs on your room with Mark, he won’t be bothering us.”

Your dumb frat boy pulls away from your throat, a grin on his face. “You really knew it was me all along, huh?”

“You’re not exactly subtle, buddy,” you laugh.

Hyuck shakes his head, reaching to lock the door before his hands ensnare you again. He pushes his body against yours, urging you to move backward until your calves hit the bed. Before pushing you down, he removes your faerie costume wings, and only once the more delicate part of your costume is discarded, does he shove you onto his mattress.

“Hyuck,” you giggle, looking up at him with starry eyes.

“You look so good like this,” Hyuck muses, tugging his denim ‘Ken’ style vest off to reveal a body hardened from Frat mandated work out brother time. He’s not too big, not too built- Hyuck still has some pudge on him, but you kind of love it. You love that it’s not a full six pack and bulging biceps- you can imagine that when this is all done, he’ll be lovely to cuddle with.

In fact, you’re not sure it would matter how muscled Hyuck is. Sure, it helps that he’s physically fit and hot, but- at this point in your friendship, you’re attracted to him for so much more than his body.

No man makes you laugh like him. No man has spent the time that he has to understand you and make you feel comfortable with him knowing you, the true you, the you that you don’t get to show many others.

Hyuck is just… he’s good for you, and he always has been. That goodness has so far been a friend capacity sort of thing, but you’re excited about the new development in your relationship. You think there’s true potential with him, and it makes you dizzy as you stare up at one of your best friends.

“I kind of want to eat you out, Angel,” Hyuck admits, one hand finding your thigh and pushing your short dress even higher up  your leg.

“Funny, I kind of want to suck you off,” you grin, lifting one foot out of your shoe to tease your toes across the front of his jeans.

“So… sixty-nine?” Hyuck asks, gently tracing his fingers across your exposed skin, setting tingles of pleasure off to erupt and skitter through your form.

“That would work, but… I guess… I kind of want to lay with my head lolled off the side of the bed, your cock in my mouth, and your fingers pinching at my nipples while I work my own clit at the same time.”

“Jesus,” Hyuck breathes, swallowing thickly as he looks up at you. “How could I say no to that?” 

“Then, when I’m close to cumming, you can eat me out, get me there, then fuck me stupid for your own release.”

“It’s funny,” Hyuck chuckles, “Here I thought I was the horny one calling you and trying to be a creep, but you’re the one with the dirty mouth and the great ideas.”

“Yeah, your whole Black Christmas thing really wasn’t the best idea I’ve ever heard,” you tease.

“How many times do I have to admit it was a shitty plan but I just wanted to get close to you?”

“At least once more.”

“Fine. Now flip around, loll your head off my bed, let me put my cock down your throat and pinch your nipples while you toy with your cute pussy.”

“How do you know my pussy is cute?” you ask. “You haven't even seen it yet.”

“I’ve been imagining, baby, and as a film major, my imagination is pretty fucking good.”

You giggle, getting into position for Hyuck. He stands near your head as you loll it off the side of the bed, and you get a good view of his bulge straining in his jeans.

“You’re excited,” you muse, cupping him through the denim.

“Who wouldn’t be?” he laughs, undoing his button, then the zipper. “Fuck, you look so good laid out like this.”

“Yeah?” You pull the top of your dress down, releasing your boobs.

“Fuuuuuck,” Hyuck groans, pausing his motions on his jeans to reach down and massage your newly exposed breast. “I knew your tits would be perfect.”

You moan at the feeling of his warm hands. His fingers pinch at your nipple and your moan turns into a whine. “Feels good.”

“You feel good,” he counters.

“Get your cock out,” you instruct, feeling impatient.

“Start rubbing your pussy,” Hyuck retorts with a laugh.

“Yes, sir,” you respond teasingly, reaching one of your hands down to your thighs. You slip it under your dress, deciding on taking your panties off alltogether. 

Hyuck continues to massage you as you pull off your thong. 

You can’t help yourself, you toss it at him, and Hyuck lets go of your breast in favour of catching it. “Fuck, these are cute,” he says, admiring your panties.

“I knew I’d be getting laid.”

His tone shifts to the darker, more annoyed side of things. “Yeah?”

“And don’t get all angsty, I knew I’d be fucking you tonight.” 

“That’s what I like to hear,” Hyuck grins, putting your panties in his pocket before he undoes his jeans, shifting them down his thighs.

The fucker isn’t wearing underwear, and you get a good view of his cock for the first time.

“Fuck, dude, you weren’t lying when you said you were thick,” you muse, licking your lips.

“I’d never lie to you about my cock,” he laughs.

You slip one hand between your thighs, stroking your wet core- it’s crazy how turned on you are from this, but part of you thinks this has been building for a while- for a week, actually.

Hyuck strokes his cock, looking down at you. “Ready for this?” he asks.

“Put it in my mouth,” you command, opening wide for him.

“If I’m going to deep, push my thigh,” he tells you as he slips his cock past your lips.

You moan a sound of affirmation around him, immediately beginning to suck on his tip, getting used to his size before you take more.

Hyuck is surprisingly gentle with how much he’s allowing you to take. If you hadn’t been pacing yourself, you’re sure he’d be pacing you of his own accord. 

One of his hands finds your breast again, pinching the nipple and sending jitters of pleasure down to your throbbing core.

You groan louder around him, sucking more into your mouth as you increase the pressure on your clit.

“This is so fucking hot,” Hyuck moans, thrusting gently into your mouth so you can lay flat and still, allowing him to do most of the work while you rub your pussy deliciously.

You can only let out a sound of affirmation as he uses your mouth.

With your eyes closed, you can focus fully on the feeling of pleasure that’s building inside of you. 

When you’d imagined fucking Hyuck for the first time, this hadn’t necessarily been a position at the forefront of your thoughts- but when he’d suggested eating you out, you’d realized this is exactly what you’d wanted. 

You want to give back to him, want to show him how much you’ve appreciated him taking the leap and telling you how he feels- even if it was in some weird, dumb frat boy, phone call kind of way. 

The way he’s pinching your thighs is actually delicious- and then, you hear him spit, and you feel the cool liquid hit your chest. This time, when he rubs his thumb over your nipple, he spreads his spit across your skin, making it even more intense.

“Part of me just wants to cum on these perfect tits,” he admits.

You make a very clear sound of disagreement, and Hyuck pulls his cock out of your mouth. You’d been salivating so much that as he moves away, your own saliva drips back down onto your face from his length. You swallow thickly, finding your voice. “Need you to cum inside of me.”

“Fuuuuck,” Hyuck groans, pinching your nipple even harder. “You and your creampie kink.”

He slips his cock back into your mouth, and you greedily eat him up.

Then he leans further over your body, his fingers joining yours on your core. “You’re so fucking wet,” he muses, pushing your hand out of your way so he can rub your clit, gently fucking your face as he does so.

It’s a shallow face fucking, as he’s bent over your laid down body to access your core, but you don’t mind.

Your eyes are still closed, and you’re enjoying every sensation, bringing your free hands up to your breasts to massage them and pinch your own nipples.

“You look so sexy, want you to cum so bad so I can fuck you stupid,” he tells you, rubbing your clit even harder.

You rut your hips up toward his hand, a non verbal motion that tells him you’re close.

God, it’s like he’s been in your pants before- he knows exactly how to stroke and massage your clit-

“And you’re still sucking me off so good-” he continues. “And grabbing at your tits too, you’re my insatiable little Angel, aren’t you?”

You moan deeply around his cock, and Hyuck fucks you a little harder, the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat. You gag around him, feeling tears in your eyes.

“Shit, sorry, Angel, fuck, that just felt so good- can I do it again? Can I fuck your throat again?”

You make a sound of affirmation, shocked at how your body had reacted to his cock being fully inside of your mouth. A tingle of excitement had run through you, your nipples getting intensely sensitive, your core throbbing-

Hyuck does it again, hitting the back of your throat, and the same sensation happens. You can feel yourself getting desperately close to the edge, and you hardly have to do anything. Other than pinching your own nipples, Hyuck is the one taking care of you, and you kind of love it.

“I can tell you’re close, Angel,” Hyuck chuckles. “Fuck, gonna cum from me fucking your face and rubbing your clit, right?”

You moan desperately, wiggling your hips. Hyuck reads your cue, rubbing your clit even harder.

Now, you can’t help but pull off his cock, pushing his thigh to give you a bit of space.

“You good?” he asks, motions pausing.

“Yeah,” you tell him, swallowing thickly as you grab his cock to stroke him off. “Just keep- fuck, keep rubbing me like that, I’m so close-”

“Fuck this,” Hyuck mutters, and all of the sudden, he’s pulling away.

You let out a whine- only for him to spin you on his bed. He sinks to his knees, drawing your core to the edge where your head had just been, then he dives in, his lips immediately suctioning around your clit.

Two fingers push into your aching core and you whimper desperately, grabbing at his hair to keep him on your pussy as he works you closer and closer-

“Hyuck-” you cry out, muscles clenching-

One more slurp on your clit has you topping over the edge, entire body electrified by the orgasm surging through you.

You slap a hand over your mouth, trying to muffle your sounds as he works you through your high. He doesn’t quit, doesn’t pull away- he sucks your clit through your entire high, until your thighs are shaking on his shoulders and you’re on the verge of tears.

“Okay-” you whimper, pushing at his head. “Sensitive-”

Hyuck finally lets up. You open your eyes to watch him stand, pulling his fingers from your core and sliding them into his own mouth.

“You taste just like Halloween candy, baby,” he muses, eyes clouded with lust.

“I wanna taste,” you whisper.

Hyuck pushes his jeans completely off, and then he gets on top of you, smashing his lips to your own. The flavour of your pussy is hot on his tongue, and it invades your senses, driving you wild as you kiss him deeper, threading your fingers through his hair.

His cock nudges between your pussy lips as he grinds down against you, rocking his hips.

“Fuck me,” you tell him, moving your mouth to suck on his ear lobe.

“Shit,” Hyuck groans, shivering from the sensation of your tongue on his ear. “Want you naked first.”

He pulls away just long enough to tug your dress up and over your head, then he returns to his spot, his cock rutting against your core once more.

The two of you have been friends forever. Hyuck knows you have an IUD, he’d been there for you when you’d gotten it last year, when you’d just wanted to stay in bed and rot for a few days. There’s no need to discuss birth control or safety- all there’s left to do, is have his thick cock fill you in ways you’ve been wanting all week.

Hyuck adjusts, grabbing his base so he can push his tip into your throbbing hole.

“Fuck,” you whimper in his ear, clutching his shoulders as he pushes an inch into you.

“You good?” he asks, breath hot on your throat.

“So good,” you respond, locking your legs around his hips.

He pushes deeper into your pussy, and your core welcomes him in, walls stretching to accommodate his thick cock. 

Hyuck bottoms out, and you both groan deeply. He forces his lips onto your own again, and it’s a clash of teeth and tongues.

It’s animalistic in the best sort of way- like you’ve both been caged up for as long as you’ve known each other, and you’re finally letting your beasts out to do the most primal thing imaginable.

There are no thoughts in your mind as Hyuck begins to fuck you, there’s only you, him, and this intense feeling of pleasure.

You feel so connected to him- missionary isn’t always the most fun position, but with Hyuck, it feels right. It feels like this was meant to be your first time together, face to face, lip locked, breathing each other in, moaning desperately as he takes you as his own.

“Fuck,” Hyuck groans, gently biting on your lip. “Your pussy is taking me so fucking well- first your mouth, now this- how do you expect me to last long?”

“I don’t,” you giggle. “You made me cum so hard on your tongue, I’m about ready to be filled with your cum and then lay here.”

“I’m gonna cuddle the shit out of you after this.”

“You better,” you grin.

Hyuck smiles against your lips, kissing you again as he fucks you even harder.

The stretch of his girthy cock is unlike anything else- and it feels like heaven as he pounds you into his mattress.

“Rub your clit?” he suggests.

“I can’t- I can’t cum again,” you whimper, still sensitive from your first orgasm.

“I’ll have to train you to cum more after this,” he promises.

You can only grin, drawing his lips to your own again as he uses you to find the ends of his own pleasure.

His whimpering sounds are like music to your ears- fuck, Hyuck is too hot to even imagine. Had this guy really been one of your best friends for this long without you ever exploiting this?

You’re so fucking happy he’d called you and been weird all week- it was the perfect foreplay, and now, you’re completely enraptured by him.

“Shit,” Hyuck groans. 

“You close, baby?” you ask.

“Fuck, call me baby again.”

“Baby,” you whimper, “your cock feels so good in my tight pussy.”

Hyuck moans even louder. 

“Just like that,” you encourage him, tightening your legs on his hips. “Keep doing that- right there-” The tip of his cock is hitting the perfect spots inside of you, and you’re gasping from the feeling, burrowing your face in his throat and panting against his skin.

“Shit, Angel-”

“Cum for me, baby, cum in my pussy,” you urge him.

That’s all it takes for him to explode, letting out a deep groan as he releases deep inside your core, coating your walls with him.

His thrusts falter, his breathing laboured, entire body shivering-

You stroke the back of his head, cooing in his ear, helping him through it until he’s finished, coming to a stop ontop of you and breathing heavily.

“Good boy,” you tease.

Hyuck lets out a deep chuckle, and it turns into a sigh. “You’re going to be the death of me.”

“And you’d love that.”

“I would,” he admits. “Okay, fuck, I’m gonna pull out, gonna grab some tissues and sweat pants- we can head to the bathroom down the hall and hopefully clean up a little, then we’re gonna cuddle.”

“Sounds like a plan to me,” you grin, laying there as he groans and gets off of you, following through with his intentions.

Soon, cum is being wiped from your pussy and you’re being helped into sweatpants.

The two of you exit his room, and you’re very pleased to see that most of the party is downstairs, leaving his floor pretty vacant. 

You make your way to the bathroom with him, clutching his hand.

Once there, you both clean up, and you listen to Hyuck splash water on his face while you pee, making sure all his cum is out of you.

The two of you make it back to his room, collapsing into bed. He pulls you to his chest, cuddling you close.

“Before I pass out… how did you know it was me on the phone?” he asks.

“Out of everyone in the frat, you idolize Johnny the most. It wasn’t a reach that you’d recreate his Ghostie thing last year. On top of that, you’re a film major, you know horror movies better than anyone else. And, you’re a horny fucker, which is something I’ve always loved about you- I just… I needed you to make a move, which you never really did, until now. It just… made sense that it was you. The way we talk to each other, I could tell it was you from the very first call.”

“Here I was, thinking I was all suave and shit.”

“You were very suave, baby,” you grin, pressing a kiss to the underside of his jaw.

“Happy Halloween, Angel.”

You giggle. “Happy Halloween.” 

☀️ mlist + an. thank you for reading! find my other nct frat fics (including Ghostie) HERE. I made this meme for this fic because it's so them.

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🔮 preview. “So, I’m gonna finger fuck you stupid,” he explains, pushing his digits back into you. “And then, I’m going to apply pressure, right here-” Hyuck’s hand smooths across your abdomen, even the slightest push makes you feel his fingers deep in your core, and you release a whine of pleasure. “Yeah, you’re going to love this,” he confirms with a grin. 

cw/ tw. Unprotected sex, oral ( f receiving), pussy worship, fingering, multiple reader orgasms, overstim, squirting, dirty talk, praise, Hyuck holds the reader down by her abdomen, etc… I petnames: (y/n’s) Angel. (his) Baby. 

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 2.4k I teaser wc. 220

🌙 staring. Haechan x afab!reader

bonus

You love Hyuck, you do- but sometimes (especially when watching movies) he has this tendency to… well, never shut up.

“Okay so, coming up, when the alien pops out of his body, the director didn’t tell anyone this was going to happen, so when Sigourney Weaver and the others react, it’s genuine shock and surprise-”

You love his facts too, you do… but… sometimes, they get a bit much.

“Baby,” you coo, cuddling closer to your boyfriend, “Can we just… watch the movie?”

“We are watching the movie.”

“I mean… God, I’m going to sound like a bitch, but can we get through like… ten minutes without a fun fact?”

“But… my fun facts are fun.”

“They are, baby, they are,” you assure him, patting his chest, “I just…” you sigh, “ten minutes?”

“I can think of a distraction for my mouth,” Hyuck grins.

Your pussy immediately flutters, picking up on what he’s saying. “Yeah? Don’t you want to watch the movie?”

“I’ve seen it a billion times.” His hand rubs your shoulder and he nuzzles against your cheek, breath hot on your skin. “Come on, let me eat out your pretty pussy. I’ve been wanting to overstim you for a hot minute- I think I could get three or four out of you while you’re watching.”

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[crowleysgirl56]

Ok, so I wanted to do a deeper dive into this particular passage of Good Omens:

For context, this is at the climax of the book, they’re at Tadfield airbase, the horsemen have been dispensed with, Aziraphale has his body back, and Satan is about to claw his way out of the pit.

In most of the proceeding chapters involving Crowley it talks a lot about how scared Crowley is. He is very scared of Hell.

One could perhaps say maybe he is scared of them due to The Arrangement, but that is never explicitly stated. I think it has more to do with Hell is bad, and Crowley has spent the majority of the book being yelled at by some entity through the radio or TV telling him how he’s going to be in super amounts of trouble when they get their hands on him. He is just scared of what will happen. When he comes across the book shop burning he doesn’t cry for his lost friend. He curses Aziraphale, and I think it’s because the one person who may have been able to keep him safe and protected from Hell is now gone.

So when he thinks to himself (as shown in the above screen shot) that there is now nothing left for him to lose, this is why I never thought (upon reading the book the first time that is) there were any romantic feelings between him and Aziraphale. I know that technically he had already lost Aziraphale. But by this point he was back again, and back in his body. If there truly were romantic thoughts between them surely the idea of losing him again would come up.

I have read so much fanfiction, some old, some new, and what they all have in common is the detailed inner monologue of Crowley’s turmoil over his feelings for Aziraphale and how he doesn’t feel like he can act on them. In the book we get nothing of the sort, from either character. Even when they’re separated there is hardly ever any description of them thinking of the other except occasionally to frame a short reference to something. Reading the book I never got the impression that there was anything more than two ethereal beings spending time and proximity to each other and doing work for each other for no other reason than they’re essentially a bit lazy.

I think they’re only queer coded for the fact that there’s the line about Aziraphale appearing “gayer than a tree full of monkeys on nitric oxide”, and Crowley is, well, very Freddie Mercury coded. Them being seen as gay together and all the gay slurs in the awful racist scenes of Aziraphale body hopping about in culturally indigenous people after the bookshop fire has more to do with the very typical 80’s/90’s trope of “being gay = comedy gold”, than them actually being together romantically.

I think the reason why they were shipped so much after the publication however is for the same reason we ship so many male couples (or female couple) in modern media, why we’ve always shipped them: because of the complete and horrid lack there of, of proper queer representation.

If you’ve ever seen the magnificent Russel T Davies TV series It’s a Sin, there is a wonderful scene where the character Ash starts a job in a school library and the headmaster asks him to go through all the books and find any book that has queer love scenes so they can be removed. Ash then gives a most beautiful and impassioned speech (albeit it turns out the speech is just in his head) of how there is nothing. Absolutely nothing. There is nothing to the point where they are nonexistent. They are invisible. They are not seen. (Or like, something to that effect. I tell you though, it’s bloody brilliant).

So I think that’s rather the point really. You have two iconic characters, albeit supporting bit characters practically, and I think a lot of our minds automatically get drawn to wanting to put them together because of the sheer lack of queer couples. People have been doing it for years from Frodo and Sam, to Harry Potter and Draco (or Ron I guess), to Sherlock and Watson (even before the Benedict Cumberbatch show. Also as an aside let’s not get into how obsessed people got about Sherlock Holmes back in the day when those books were first published. The obsession was the reason Doyle killed the character off the in first place, then after getting letters from people telling him they were literally going to kill themselves, the reasons why he resurrected him again. Don’t tell us that modern day nerds are weird and obsessive. We’ve ALWAYS been like this).

It’s for this reason why queer representation is so god damn important. Why I still support the idea of Good Omens season 3. Because regardless of how the characters were originally intending to be represented in the book, it’s very clear now that they are so much more than “Just friends”. And we NEED that! Whether you subscribe to the idea that they will be physically intimate with each other, the fact remains is they love each other. They love each other immensely. And that comes from years of Terry Pratchett (and the other guy) accepting that canon and telling fans that it’s true. Because Michael Sheen made a choice and held a belief about how he saw his character and then David Tennant followed suit. That literally tens of thousands of fanfiction writers have decided the same.

So that’s my take. I don’t think loving each other was ever intended that way in the book, but in the last 35 years their story has morphed into the ineffable husbands that we now know.

What are your thoughts? Have I rambled on long enough to make any sense? Do you agree? Have I missed something completely obvious and gotten it all wrong? Keen to hear thoughts.

[nova-amor]

𝑰𝑵𝑫𝑼𝑳𝑮𝑬 𝑴𝑬

𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒗𝒊𝒐𝒖𝒔 𝒆𝒑𝒊𝒔𝒐𝒅𝒆 | 𝒑𝒍𝒂𝒚𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 | 𝒏𝒆𝒙𝒕 𝒆𝒑𝒊𝒔𝒐𝒅𝒆

𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒎𝒆𝒓: 𝒕𝒐𝒋𝒊 𝒇𝒖𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒈𝒖𝒓𝒐

𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕: 2.8𝒌

𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒔: 𝒊𝒎𝒑𝒂𝒄𝒕 𝒑𝒍𝒂𝒚, 𝒃𝒊𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒌, 𝒏𝒆𝒄𝒌 𝒈𝒓𝒂𝒃𝒃𝒊𝒏𝒈, 𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈, 𝒕𝒉𝒓𝒐𝒂𝒕 𝒇𝒖𝒄𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈, 𝒇𝒆𝒍𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐, 𝒄𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒎𝒑𝒊𝒆, 𝒄𝒖𝒏𝒏𝒊𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒖𝒔, 𝒅𝒆𝒈𝒓𝒂𝒅𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏, 𝒉𝒖𝒎𝒊𝒍𝒊𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏, 𝒎𝒊𝒍𝒅 𝒃𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒉 𝒑𝒍𝒂𝒚, 𝒑-𝒊𝒏-𝒗 𝒑𝒆𝒏𝒆𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏, 𝒏𝒂𝒎𝒆 𝒄𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈 [ 𝒔𝒍𝒖𝒕 & 𝒘𝒉𝒐𝒓𝒆 ], 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒑𝒆𝒕 𝒏𝒂𝒎𝒆𝒔 [ 𝒈𝒐𝒐𝒅 𝒈𝒊𝒓𝒍, 𝒃𝒂𝒃𝒚, ��𝒕𝒄. ]

with the flat of your hands, you smoothed out any lingering wrinkles along the skirt of your dress, mindlessly picking out any pet hairs that had embedded themselves into the fabric. after snoozing through your alarm one too many times that morning, you had forgotten to grab a lint roll on the way to the shoot that morning.

"helloo! welcome to nova's blind dating, you guys can talk now!" the director introduced, beaming at the two of you with a brilliant smile. "thank you so much for letting us here at nova productions set you up with somebody else in the industry."

you readjusted the headset on your head, the foam pads squeezing at your ear lobes; you couldn't wait for the moment to be able to take them off. they were basically squeezing any thoughts out of your head, you'd need an advil or two after this.

"so guys, have you ever been set up on a blind date?" the director questioned. the crew worked diligently behind them, carrying in more of the much-needed stage and ring lights. 

you leaned forward into the microphone, gripping the sides of the stool you were sitting on to keep your balance.

"yes, it was through a mutual friend, someone else in the industry," you answered honestly, thinking back fondly on the memory of your first and last blind date. "i won't be saying any names, but i'm sure they'll see this video later, and the guy was cool. the date went really well, and we kept dating afterward, but it just didn't work out."

"how about you?" one of the cameras shifted towards the other participant, their identity obscured by the placement of a large curtain between you. you had a sneaking suspicion of who it could be, but you couldn't quite put a solid guess on their identity if asked.

"a couple of times actually," the man revealed, their voice altered to sounding more high-pitched. another step to prevent either of you from figuring out who the other person was. "only one really stuck out; we went out on a few more dates, but our careers kept getting in the way, so we had to call it quits."

the director shook their head, offering the two of you a pitiful smile. "such a shame. well the team thanks you again for letting us match you guys together," the director commented, setting the cue cards facedown on their lap. "but enough with the sadness, we're all here to have a good time! so, share with us what you'd like to experience sexually today— what mood are you in? what do you like?"

without a moment of hesitation, you brought the microphone closer to you, the idea of what you wanted from today's experience already cemented into your mind. "rough, i want really rough sex today," you glimpsed over to the curtain. "like choking, spanking, all of it— i want all of it."

"i'm down for anything, as long as i can get my dick sucked," your partner responded. you felt a bit shameless acting so lewd in front of the crew. yet, you knew what either of you said was neither the filthiest thing they've heard or seen. "i got no plans after this so i'm hoping for the most soul-sucking head ever, the type of shit that makes you feel like you've died and gone to heaven."

you shifted in your seat, pressing your thighs together. you could feel your panties begin to grow damp, pussy lips tingling in anticipation for the big reveal.

"are either of you prepared for that? is that okay with ya'll before we start rolling?" the director inquired as the both of you turned your heads to face the curtain. not in an attempt to get a peek at one another, but because of the undiminished tension brewing between you two. you then both answered at the same time, almost as if there was a psychic connection formed between you.

"yes." 

"hell yes."

"okay, perfect. so, let's take off our headsets; just hook them onto the microphone thingy. remember, no talking!" the director began to instruct. you wanted to ask one more thing, the question dying in your throat as you hopped off your stool. you could ask after the shoot. "just slowly step forward and meet your blind date!"

by just catching a glimpse of the shaggy black hair, you already knew who your partner was. your body moved on instinct, arms shooting out to wrap around his neck and tug him into a tight embrace. he reciprocated quickly, his hands grabbing at your waist— bodies flushed tightly against one another. 

your gut had been right— you had been matched with fushiguro toji.

"i already knew it was you," you giggled, burying your face into the crook of toji's neck. you shamelessly inhaled his scent, the bold and erotic aroma of his signature cologne brought a certain level of peace to you. you had always loved how the combination of mango, lemon, and sandalwood paired so well with toji's natural body scent. 

"i knew that you knew it was me," toji pulled away from the embrace a little to get a proper look at you, cock already starting to stir beneath the confinement of his pants. "the same way you knew it was me. a gut feeling, right, baby?"

your smile grew bigger, and your cheeks began to heat up. you and toji had always had some form of a mental connection, maintained throughout the years you had worked together in the industry. 

it was well-known amongst the other actors and actresses, that there was nothing quite like your relationship. the cameras that recorded your time together didn't do enough justice to truly capture the depths of your emotions held for one another; whenever you did work together, all the cameras, crews, and lights faded away— it was as if you had entered your own little world, one that no one else would be able to experience.

without another word from the director, toji guided you over to the king-sized bed at the center of the room, a knowing smile already painted across his face. your fingers were interlaced with his, the warmth of his palm already making your heartache.

"come here, baby," toji twirled you around so that the back of your legs were against the edge of the bed, his hand trailing up your arm to find a place on the back of your neck. he craned his neck to look down at you, his forehead lightly pressed to yours. "let's give 'em a good show."

it wasn't long before the two of you were fully undressed, clothing articles scattered along the wooden floor. your legs were laced around toji's head, thighs muffling his ears as he flickered his tongue against your clit. he was three fingers deep into your pussy, wrist curled and forearm tight from how hard he was fucking his fingers into you.

your moans were loud, his name leaving your lips like a song with the tone of a soprano. you almost wanted to cry; after years of acting together on screen and some private moments off-screen, toji had become an expert in your anatomy. he was well-rehearsed in what you liked— how you liked it when he curled his fingers into you rather than twisting, how you liked your clit to be licked rather than sucked on, how when he angled his mouth and fingers just right you'd instantly squirt.

"fuck yes! make a fuckin' mess— give it to me, baby—" toji moaned, his head shaking left and right between your thighs as your release sprayed like a hose all over his face. he opened his mouth a bit more, eagerly swallowing your load. whatever his mouth couldn't catch fell to the floor, pitter-pattering down like raindrops. 

"look at that cockdrunk face," he peered up at you, the pace of his fingers beginning to slow down. your thighs quivered around his head, your chest rising and falling rapidly from your heavy pants. "think ya can handle returning the favor, baby? or did i fuck you too good that you can't?"

toji then pulled his head out from between your thighs, a whine leaving your lips as soon as he retracted his fingers from inside you. he stood up, his skin glistening under the warm lights of the bedroom, dampened with sweat. you'd never get tired of such a sight.

"n-no, please, toji," you whimpered, pussy lips glistening under the glow of the lights. you spread your legs out wider, offering your cunt up on a shiny platter to toji and the cameras. "fuck my mouth, baby, wanna taste your cock. missed ya so much, need it."

"mmm, now that's my good girl. lay your head over the edge for me, baby girl," he directed you, his large hand stroking the length of his cock. his thumb ran over the slit of his head, smearing pre-cum along his tip with each graze.

you dutifully followed his instructions, flipping around to dangle your head over the bed's edge, laid sprawled out before him. he tapped his cock's head against your lips, running the tip along the outline of your greedy lips. 

"stick out that pretty tongue, baby," and you obediently did so, sticking the wet muscle out as far as possible. toji slapped the flat of your tongue with his cock's head, your delightful hums filling the air as the weight of his cock smacked you.

your hands pawed at the back of his thighs, urging him closer to your awaiting mouth. toji then slowly edged his cock into you, his head tilting back as a series of groans and words of praise left his lips.

"missed this fuckin' mouth," toji breathed out, his hips rutting into your mouth. your throat had already been trained to handle his massive size, yet you couldn't suppress the few gags that slipped out when his cock pushed past your uvula. 

"fuck, fuck, fuck, yesss— that's it, baby— bein' such a good girl, let me use you like the good little slut you are—" toji began to slam deep into you, his scrotum smacking against your eyes and nose with each vigorous thrust. "relax your fuckin' throat, baby— that's it— that's it— fucckkk,"

tears welled in your eyes, your jaw growing more sore from the damage he was bringing to your mouth. you couldn't bring yourself to stop him, eyes rolling into the back of your head. it felt too good to stop now. but, just as his balls began to tighten, evidence that he was close to his release, toji stopped.

"tojiii, nooo," you whined, hands reaching out to feebly paw at his cock. toji was too quick for you though, taking a large step back, just barely out of your reach. "tojii, c'meree— thought ya wanted me t' suck the soul out of ya, baby."

toji shook his head, biting his lip. he ran his fingers through his hair, combing the fringe back as he smirked down at you. 

"and ya fuckin' did, baby girl, almost made me pass out from how good you were takin' me," toji answered, moving back towards you. you scrambled onto your hands and knees, looking up at him with big, round eyes. the desperation for him to rail you evident on your pretty little face. "just need t' be inside your little cunny right now. don't you want me to stuff you full, baby?"

you stretched your arms out, curving your back deeper and deeper until your ass was high in the air. toji let out a whistle, his eyes zeroing in on your ass like a predator hunting down prey. he climbed into the bed next to you, shuffling to get behind you.

he landed a harsh smack to your ass cheeks, the impact of the slap ricocheting off the fat of your ass like waves. you wiggled your ass for him, silently begging for him to do it again.

"you like that, huh? shakin' that ass for me like the dirty slut you are," another brutal slap landed on your ass, a smile tugging on your lips. it felt like you had died and gone to heaven, your clit throbbing and twitching for attention with each blow. "c'mon, baby, tell me you want this cock— i know you do, pussy's drooling all over the sheets."

another slap sent your mind into a frenzy, your tongue moving on its own accord. "yesyesyes— fuck, toji, give it to me," you rambled, tongue-tied. you couldn't think straight, not with the way he was massaging your cunt with one hand and spanking you with the other. "want you to use me."

toji chuckled, "oh really? fuckin' bet." 

your eyes crossed as soon as toji slid his cock into you, your walls fluttering around his girth. your pussy was practically frothing at the base of his cock, a thick white ring beginning to form, thin strings of bodily juices connecting you with each thrust. his hips rutted into your ass, his balls swinging hard to smack against your clit.

one of his hands was pressed to the small of your back while the other gripped your side, forcing you to stay in place as he pounded into you. your back arched deeper, tits swinging and drooling seeping out of the side of your mouth with accompanying loud moans.

"this is what you wanted, right? wanted t' be my fuck toy? my pretty little doll t' use whenever i want?" toji hissed through gritted teeth, the edges of his nails digging into your skin. each thrust shook the bed, shifting it along the floor from the momentum. "fucked too dumb to speak, huh? better t' keep that mouth shut anyway, not like ya have anythin' important to say."

you were stunned into silence, your brain officially having been reduced to a puddle of pink mush. toji then grabbed at the back of your head, gripping your scalp to yank you up. the back of your head rested against his shoulder, his hand snaking around to grip the front of your throat.

his hips rutted into you, plowing into your g-spot relentlessly with the new angle. the expression you were wearing must've been a pathetic one, your eyes brimming with tears and bottom lip quivering. toji basked in the sight— mesmerized by how beautiful you always looked when he was buried deep inside you.

"kiss me," toji whispers to you, his tone a million times softer than his thrusts. regardless of how rough the sex was, toji always found a way to make it seem tender and romantic. "kiss me, baby, missed those pretty lips."

you hooked one of your hands onto the back of toji's head, pulling him in for the kiss he so desperately wanted. his lips were just as soft as you had remembered, the musky flavor of your release still lingering on his mouth.

your lips moved in a passionate dance— tongues meddling together, swirling around one another, a heated battle to assert dominance. his mouth devoured yours, saliva pooling out the corners of your mouth and staining your chin. 

the knot at the pit of your stomach tightened, your abs tightening with how close you were to reaching your peak. sensing the change, toji's other hand snaked down to your clit, rolling the sensitive nub between his fingers. the stimulation proving to be just what you needed to send you over the edge.

"toji," you whimpered against his lips as he continued to fuck you through your climax. he had his own goal to reach. "cum in me, toji, need it. need it need it need it."

he peppered kisses down the side of your face, his lips latching to the underside of your jaw as you tilted your head further to the side to allow him more access. his teeth sunk into the column, leaving a series of bite marks and hickeys. you weren't his girl, at least not officially, yet he still wanted to stake some form of claim over you.

"m-mine, t-that'ss what youu are," toji stuttered, thick white ropes of his seed painting your insides. he kept rutting his hips into you, drowning your walls with his large load. "mine, mine, mine. my girl. my best girl."

"yeah, baby," you could barely breathe anymore. too far gone, body gone completely limp in his arms. you could careless about the crew or the cameras anymore. this was the little world you shared with toji, the closest thing you knew that love felt like. "i'm all yours, always will be."

[torchship-rpg]

Dev Diary 17 - Complex Dice Tests

We lied! Today was going to be about the meta-campaign mechanics, but we did a really cool system overhaul instead and we simply have to tell you about it.

Basically, we overhauled a part of our dice system in a pretty major way. It’s involved some fairly dramatic changes to how rolls are done, though all the other systems we’ve created plug pretty seamlessly into it (and as we’ve integrated it, it’s actually let us effectively cut systems now that they’re covered automatically by the new system). It’s one of the deftest bits of game design we’ve ever done and we gotta brag about it.

Development of the Previous System

One of the things that has been a problem for Torchship for a long while is that it wanted to be a dice pool system (roll X dice, looking for Y amount of Z+ results), which doesn’t just have binary pass-failure outcomes. We wanted players to feel competent in their fields, but we also needed there to be interesting difficulties and complications so that stories aren’t just a stateful progression of experts effortlessly performing the tasks they’re experts in.

This is surprisingly difficult!

Nailing down exactly how it would work has gone through about a half-a-dozen iterations, all of which always felt like hacky temporary solutions. The version we came up with before this, which the game has been using for about a year, involved two thresholds on each roll; a “Difficulty” to do the thing, and a “Complexity” tacked onto it that you had to reach to do it without any extra problems.

This served the purpose, but its various incarnations slowed the game down a lot more than it should have, and put too much stress on the GM to work out what these two targets would be and how complications would emerge from it. It was a clunky solution which required a lot of experience to use properly, functioning just well enough to build systems around without ever being stellar on its own.

It Must be Tuesday

While working on Must be Tuesday: Revived Edition, which uses a similar dice pool system, my wonderful editor Lexie came up with a really clever system while we were working out the dice odds. In that game, you have a “Skill” target from 6+ to 3+ with a variable dice pool and a number of Successes needed. 

Our partial successes there comes from a concept of ‘Scrapes’; dice which are 4+, but don’t meet your Skill target. If you reach the number of Successes you need when you add your Scrapes to your rolls meeting your Skill, you get a partial success! Brilliant, isn’t it? That means everyone has a chance to get by on even hard checks using their worst skills, but it’s never easy.

When we poked at Torchship stuff after testing that system out, we found ourselves wondering if something similar wouldn’t fit here as well. It wouldn’t translate 1-1; Must be Tuesday is about teenagers fighting monsters in a horror/comedy setup, where nobody is doing anything really complicated, and even the people who are the best at things are still only as good at it as, you know, teenagers. It’s not a good tone fit, but it inspired the system we used.

Complexity Certs & Complications

The solution we came up with, which we are so proud of we bumped a whole dev diary for it, is the idea of Complexity Certs.

Basically, we’ve ditched the previous Complexity target from before. Your dice Test just has a single, easily determined Difficulty. In ideal circumstances, you roll a number of dice determined by the tool you’re using, needing to get results over your Cert target. Get as many of those as the Difficulty, you succeed, otherwise you fail. Simple binary outcome to a simple problem.

But you’re playing cosmonauts. You know, you boldly go places you probably shouldn’t. You don’t face simple problems.

When the GM calls for a roll, they can tack on Complexity Certs in accordance to the situation you’re facing. Essentially, they’re saying this roll is a test not just of the ‘Primary Cert’ that determines if you pass or fail, but it’s also a test of some extra skills that have come up because of the number of moving parts involved in the situation.

So while you still only have one Difficulty, you need to meet that difficulty using multiple dice targets to succeed without qualifiers. If you just meet the difficulty on your Primary Cert, but not the Complexity Certs, then the GM can hit you with a Complication that can emerge naturally from the Cert in question. Conversely, you could end up in a situation where you have a better value on your Complexity Cert than the primary, so you could fail, but avert other disasters.

Or you could fail at both, and now you have two problems!

This system elegantly compresses a bunch of things the system needed to do into one quick judgement call by the GM in the moment. We don’t need to have specific penalties for working remotely through a robot, working in a spacesuit, or doing things in low gravity; the GM can just add the Drone Operator, EVA, or Cosmonaut Certs to the Test as Complexity Certs. There’s no limit to the number of Complexity Certs that can get added either, so you can sum up really complex situations with a single roll.

It also made the game’s group test mechanics much simpler and more impactful. Helping can be a complex game design challenge; you want people to be able to give each other a hand, but you need to make sure people can’t simply do it on every single roll to avoid slowdown and the trivialization of gameplay challenges. The way Help works now is allowing you to lend a friend one of your Certs to take on a Complexity Cert, basically monitoring a potential problem for them while they focus on the main task. 

As you get XP for Helping or being Helped on Checks where somebody is rolling with a higher Cert than you, you might want to point out potential problems with people’s plans that relate to your expertise as they come up so you can be the one to solve them. It also means that the presence of a Complexity Cert acts as a prompt for characters to step in and help one another out, and rewards a properly multi-disciplinary crew working together to tackle complex problems. 

You know. Like… like a Star Trek.

Examples

The example we use in the game rules is as follows.

Let’s say you are at a shooting range with your laser pistol, and you want to shoot a target. That’s a straightforward Sharpshooter Cert test. You either hit the target or you don’t. Easy!

But let’s say you’re doing the same thing but in a combat situation where you might get hit in return. The GM can (and is encouraged to) add the Soldier Cert as a Complexity Cert to the roll; Soldier is the Cert that covers tactics, movements, and the use of cover, so if your dice meet the difficulty using your Sharpshooter target, but don’t from your Soldier target, then you probably hit the target but exposed yourself to danger in the process.

Suddenly, we can see the difference between an Olympic target shooter and an infantryman.

Or let’s say you’re a guard posted in a reactor room; if you are doing some shooting there, the GM could throw in Damage Controller as a Complexity Cert to represent the chances of you breaking something vital in the antimatter reactor by throwing lasers everywhere. Suddenly, you have a really good reason to cross-train your guards in engineering skills, at least enough that they know not to shoot the matter/antimatter exchangers.

Or maybe you’re trying to incapacitate an unfamiliar alien creature without killing it; the GM could add Life Scientist. What if you’re doing it in a spacesuit? Add EVA. Knocking out a piece of machinery? Add Technician. Aiming a remote turret instead of doing it yourself? Drone Operator.

Which means you could, conceivably, be in a spacesuit operating a tablet controlling a gun drone non-lethally shooting a strange device on a strange alien in a combat situation inside an engine room… and it all happens with one roll and no need for infinitely stacking penalties.

Knock-On Changes

The biggest knock-on change this has caused is a need for finer gradation between Certs so that the differences come up more often and are less severe. For that reason, we moved the game to d10 pools from d6s; yes, this was an enormously annoying change to make through our draft, and we’re still working out how to rebalance advancement through it. It also means we have to do yet another pass through the Traits, which we were midway through… oh well! 

(We have a cool new lever that’s come out of, actually; we can have Traits just make Complexity Certs just not count in appropriate circumstances. Freefaller characters get to ignore 0g penalties, for example, which includes adding Cosmonaut as a Complexity Cert to a lot of rolls). 

I’ve submitted Torchship to Metatopia again this year, and I’m really looking forward to running it on the other side of a year of rewrites and de-heartbreakerification. I’m confident it’ll go much better this time around. 

Anyway, next Dev Diary will be about the Zinovians, and then we’ll do the meta-campaign mechanics. Unless something even cooler comes up.

[man-down-in-hatchet-town]

VHSCC OH MY GOD

(no spoilers)

Starkid nation, you aren't ready.

So let's start with the obvious. Look, I spent thirteen years growing up with Starkid. That initial Michigan gang are deeply special to me and I will always miss Dylan, Brian R., and Corey in any show they aren't in. And this one's no different. But just as Janaya came in and took over Belle from Britney so flawlessly, Curt, Brian, and AJ were all WONDERFUL in their new roles. The gentle-but-high-energy, truly decent, romantic himbo charm Curt brought to our Springsteen boy Jim (you all are going to LOVE Jim, I promise) perfectly offset the defiant, sneering anger of Young Scrooge in "That Scrooge." Brian's reactions (particularly to the "rather take my own life" line) were so funny and some of my favorite parts of the show. And AJ... this is now my favorite thing AJ has ever done. And that's saying something. The smaller casting shake-up moments (Joey as Fezziwig, other little line re-distributions) were so fun as well!

The new act 1 is PERFECTION. I was actually surprised by how absolutely hysterical it was? Like, I won't tell you what was up with that clip on Instagram of Brian, Lauren, and Joey doing a freak-out dance, but I can tell you that their whole Act 1 deal threatened to steal the show every. Single. Time. I already mentioned Curt as Jim, but you will also love Della, who is so funny and real and truly carries us through the start of the show (Janaya is a STAR and she Curt have brilliant chemistry). Ali did a terrific job of balancing the sadness and hope that are both at the center of the devastating little Match Girl. And Jamie's Grandma... well, honestly I have no idea how to talk about Jamie's song without giving stuff away.

But the real star of the show in Act 1, as he should be, was our man Clark. I can't emphasize enough how much he nailed the writing of this whole new act. I mentioned that the new stuff is hilarious, but it's also deeply heartfelt, and also sad exactly when it needs to be. Like, the transition after Jamie's song? I can't really talk about it yet, but what that moment does with emotion is unreal. And, as expected, every song is a banger! My one complaint about this show, and it IS a big one, is that there is no cast recording of the Act 1 songs. I want to listen to them all the time.

But the good news is, I CAN listen to Christmas Carol as much as I want! The classic that started it all is back, with so many people reprising the hell out of their truly iconic roles (God I love the VHS Cratchits), and better than ever. I traditionally hate change, and I love the version of VHSCC Live! we already have so much, but I think I somehow loved this version even more? The staging is alive and clever and there are some additions and changes, particularly in "Final Ghost"/"Christmas Day," that frankly blew my mind and somehow managed to elevate the material even further. I can't wait for the digital ticket to come out so that I can talk about them. To put it simply, James Tolbert mastered his Starkid directorial debut like you won't believe. I'm so proud of him and grateful for the larger role he's taken in Starkid since they moved base to LA.

Also, the Ghost of Christmas Past is extra unhinged this year? Jaime pulled out all of the impish stops and it was the BEST.

Basically, everyone more than delivered. I haven't talked about Meredith yet but she rocked it in the band and continued to validate the hell out of my opinion that "3 Spirits" is the dark horse best song in the show.

And a special shout-out to June Saito for continuing to be a costuming GENIUS. I always love her work and this production is no exception. I honestly wanted to give the return of the Bob Cratchit costume its own round of applause.

You know, the world is a mess and everything is pretty much terrible. It's been a hard year in an impossible decade. But every once in a while you come across some art that takes all of that, acknowledges the truth of it, and somehow pulls back the curtains to harness the joy and hope that's still there under the rubble. To me, Starkid in particular has always been about finding and holding onto the hope and the beauty and humanity that allows us to endure an existence that can so often feel bleak. And VHSCC is maybe the most perfect encapsulation of that idea.

So thank you Clark, James, Meredith, Brian, and everyone who worked so hard on this little bit of magic. Thank you, thank you, thank you.

Let's make a little light.

[jacksonleavesthe0nly138472]

sleepyhead

Pov: Ford

Fidds and me shut down the portal, he explained to me that I had a terrible head injury that must be why I don't remember anything. We were walking to the bedroom I notice that here is a weird number of triangles in the house, so I ask why, he said that he really didn't know why he loved triangles so much.

Suddenly we stop at the bed room he explained "okay ford here is only one bedroom in the house, which means one of us has to sleep on the couch" I look at him confused "oh wouldn't I have an apartment or house somewhere?" He took a minute to respond "Um your head injury is really bad, not bad enough to go to the doctors but I advice you to stay" okay that made sense, I got a strange thought in my head, for some reason made my head feel heated "you know it could be a good idea if, you and I sleep in the same bed, you could watch over me if my head injury becomes a problem"

His face went a dark red "well Stanford I think that's an brilliant idea" I love it when he says my name.

We're in bed together, is it a normal thing for two friends to sleep in the same bed, now that I'm thinking it over, actually have a crush on Fiddleford, I mean it makes sense why I feel all hot when it's winter, and how want him as close as physically possible to me. That makes me think, have I told him of this before, and was he not interested in me. Tomorrow I will ask him this and many more questions.

Finally I went to sleep instead of over thinking about our relationship, it was quite a weird dream, I was in a place were there was books and papers floating everywhere, in the hole place was scattered with stars and math equations in the background. Randomly a triangle popped out of nowhere, he looked very dapper with his bow tie and top hat.

"Hey ya sixer how's the portal going" what the heck the weird triangle thing can speak? "Oh hi dapper trian" he rudely interrupted me "MY NAME IS BILL, you idiots" "jess I didn't know your name before and before you rudely interrupted me, I was going to" again HE INTERRUPTED ME "what the hell IQ, you KNOWN me for years, are you playing a stupid game on ME" jessus this triangle man is so rude "no I AM NOT PLAYING A GAME, if you'd just let me talk, maybe you won't be so confused" "okay then talk Fordy, because this is really frustrating you know" I pause for moment than starting talking "so to put it briefly, I suffered a head injury and now I have amnesia and can't remember anything"

Instead of been understanding this bill character, he literally turned red when he got angry and thrown an temper tantrum. "WHERE THE EVER LIVING HELL IS ALL YOUR MEMORIES" I round my eyes "it's not like I just told you" predictably got more frustrated "IF YOU GOT AMNESIA YOU WOULD STILL HAVE ALL YOUR MEMORIES" I was about to say something but than he just disappeared.

Woke up with me laying on Fidds chest, don't know how I got in this position but I don't care it's nice, especially after that annoying dream guy. Gosh I'm so lucky that I forgot about that guy, the fact that I knew that man before must be annoyance to my past self. I know Fidds like triangles but he can't like this guy, plus he's not even real, what is 'bill the triangle guy' going to do if I talk trash about him. Was kind of sad that Fiddleford woke up he looks so cute asleep, "hey ya Ford we got a busy day today, haven't we, got to dismantle the portal and than get your memories back"

Oh forgot that "alright, business is good, keeps the mind busy hahahah" Fidds looks at me in a compassionate manner "gosh somethings never change" if that was someone else saying that I would of thought it was a rude remark. "Hey um I have something to tell you before we get started" he looked a bit irritated now "yes ford what is it" "well I know this is going to sound weird, but I saw a triangle named Bill in my dreams" okay now I'm thinking it over it was a stupid idea to bring it. He just looks so annoyed now "REALLY STANFORD, I thought that you would know that dreams can be weird, and WHY WOULD I NEED TO KNOW THIS?"

I felt like a complete idiot now "sorry I shouldn't of said anything, let's just get back what we were doing"

Note: did a quick drawing, I want you guys opinion on me doing a drawing on most chapters, should I do it no or yes

[mr-styles]

Aube Perrie is doing his best to keep things slimy and gross.

Some excerpts from Aube Perrie's recent article with promonews.tv:

PROMONEWS/DK: I was going to say that you’ve had a busy year so far, but I guess that this run of work has been going longer than that…

AUBE PERRIE: I have a bad memory for these things, but it's been pretty continuous. And I guess it started around a year ago, when Harry's team, actually H’s creative director Molly Hawkins and Columbia’s SVP Bryan Younce reached out and we started to try to make something happen for the new album. That's when, among other things, I wrote Satellite and Sushi. Satellite was actually written first.

I mean, there were also a couple before that - it was a long process. Among many things, Molly Hawkins is a brilliant creative director. She’s very cautious about the work they put out there, and so is H, Bryan and this whole team. But I was very fortunate and spoiled enough for having them letting me explore on a couple tracks, being extremely open and supportive. The process spread on a whole year, but that was all to the benefit of pushing the creative, pushing the ideas, giving ourselves the opportunity to explore and use the time to make something that really feels right.

When Satellite was written, I think we all liked it, but it just stayed only as an idea, we kept exploring, maybe we weren’t going to do it. And then it came back like, months later - after Sushi. It was a busy year but giving lots of time to reflect, to develop.

What did they give you, to prompt your ideas apart from the music?

The briefs were very different. Satellite was completely open. For Sushi they actually mentioned just one thing: Harry wanted to be a fish. That was the brief.

And he went from a fish to sort of disgusting Tulu octopus - that's what I was aiming for. I guess I didn't want to make a classic mermaid figure. And we tried to make it as disgusting as possible. But somehow, I don't know, Harry is so handsome…

Yes. So it still ends up being quite glamorous...

Exactly. It's terrible! But we really did our best to really make this world very slimy and gross - I kept insisting on that, and we were lucky to have everyone very much on board to go for a world that felt sweaty and textured. The texture of the tail and the squid body part had fight scars, our brilliant prosthetic lead Chelsea Delfino added the ones that white sharks have, went for a skin marked with shells. We really tried to put some gross details in there.

I wanted to design a world and restaurant location as disgusting as possible, that had this very odd and long back story. My friend and producer Josh Sondock took me to this great location that was already pretty intense, it has this crazy backstory that has been untouched, an amazing kitchen to work with - and we made it ten times worse. Still, H’s beard is kind of hot...

Having said that it's glamorous, he's still a very convincing man-squid. How did you go about creating something that good, that really does look like it was captured in-camera? 

It was very much captured all in-camera. Time was challenging because we had very little time to build the tail, the prawn masks, in time to fit the schedule. H was in the middle of the craziest tour, to say the least. We presented two different options. Something more fishy - closer to the classic mermaid I guess, but still pretty gross and unsettling, more like a slimy eel– and the squid, which was more difficult to do, but got us very excited. And H, Molly, everyone went straight for the squid. So much fun.

Wow. Not much time to fit in a lot of narrative. Did you get a much of a chance to discuss with him beforehand what was going to happen?

H definitely kept an eye on everything and it was nice to have him excited and on board jumping into a huge slimy tail and catching fishes in-camera beforehand, so we knew the main challenge would be to make it through the days. But at least we were all super aware of the challenge and up for it including H.

A lot goes through Molly, but they're also very close, so if you're discussing with Molly, you're discussing with H eventually. But I guess there was not so much discussion, but more support, especially for Sushi. It was just very easy and supportive and went very smoothly. There was just a lot of trust. And we were all here to try getting something fantastic.

I think we were all very strongly convinced it was actually good to try going for what was not so much expected of him. And I think we all were very excited picturing a result that felt like it had the potential to be quite unique. Including H.

He's familiar with the film world, having done features, and I guess he's toying with his image in quite an interesting way. Obviously not all pop stars are prepared to do that.

More should - because…it’s fun. Take Sushi. The shot list was wild. We had one day with H. At some point, you have no time to always explain what you’re shooting all over the place with A & B cam, you just need to get on with it. I guess it was way more indie film than blockbuster. But H is blockbuster. So the day would be impossible without him being very much prepared to be on the same boat as everyone one else to get it, embracing it and having fun with it. There is just no other way.

But I’m so glad that’s who he is. Everyone saw that day he’s definitely amazing at doing that and getting it. He’s very much prepared indeed. And by focusing the energy on nothing but getting it, it allows space for fun. And more than anything, it was all a lot of fun. That’s how it should be.

You can read the whole article here!

[fizzigigsimmer]

So. A few months back, I reached out to Ivy to ask if they would be interested in doing a collaboration with me, with the Harringrove Cafe. I, like many of you I am sure, am obsessed with Great British Bake Off (because what's not to love) and one day I got to thinking how funny it would be if Billy & Steve held a baking competition at the cafe.

The long & short of it is, Ivy was kind enough to let me borrow their world and bring it to life in the Sims in order to tell that story. In July, alongside the story the Cafe was to host a menu featuring the contestants dishes, with the fandom casting their "votes" for the winning dishes through their orders.

With the cafe closed, obviously this event will not be occurring and the story is currently unfinished; but I am so grateful for all the work that was put into the cafe, and to @half-oz-eddie for allowing me to play in their sandbox, and I guess I am just happy that this exists and want to share it. I had such a great time and I'm proud of what we accomplished. I hope others enjoy it too.

I've tried to think of creative ways to share this but my brain is overworked and it's not that serious lol, so I'm just going to share the finished chapters as they would originally have appeared.

So onto the story....

The Great Baking Contest: A Harringrove Sim Story

Copperdale. Early in the evening on their way to dinner, Steve and his partner Billy pass the old library - the one that had fallen into the mysterious sinkhole that opened up in the middle of downtown. It has been months since the incident, but the site is still a wreck.

Billy: It's a shame the town doesn't make enough money off these tourists to fix it. This eyesore is driving away our business.

But that gives Steve an idea. A brilliant idea.

Jonathan: Wait. So you want to host a baking competition?

Steve: Yes! To save the library.

Argyle: Man, that place nearly killed us! I say we should leave it for the sinkhole gods. Think about it. What are the chances a sinkhole would open up in the middle of California? Spooky!

Eddie: Weird things do seem to happen to us a lot.

Nancy: But the library is really important to the community. It helps people get jobs, and gave kids from under privileged communities resources they don't get anywhere else.

Steve: Exactly!

Eddie: But a bake off? How would it even work?

Steve: We'll televise it on Good Morning With Nancy, and sell tickets to the live event. And for those who can't afford the ticket, we'll offer a specialized menu at the cafe - proceeds from the sale will go toward the library fund. It's a great idea. Right?

Jonathan: I just want to know how you convinced Billy to go along with this.

Earlier that evening....

Billy: What's in it for me?

Steve: I'll let you top for a week.

Billy: You sure you can survive a whole week Pretty Boy?

Billy: You had to be there.

Jonathan: What does that mean?

Eddie: It means you need Stevie boys ass.

Part 2

[terresdebrume]

Messrs Payne and Rowland's Adventuring Agency pt 13

Written to wind down after a (good!) 4h call with a friend :D

By the time they reach the coast, the sun is sinking towards the horizon, painting everything in bright shades of oranges and pink that make Crystal smile. She ties her horse to a tree and goes to stand next to Charles and Mr. Payne, idly thinking they're going to need some light and jumping when the palm of her hand starts shining.

"Oh, brilliant!" Charles says, grinning even as Mr. Payne rolls his eyes.

"You've seen me do this countless times," he says, touching his fingers to the clasp holding his robes closed at the collar to make it shine a brilliant white. "Now, the tide is coming in, which means the top entrance will be our best bet. Look for a chasm in the ground, but be careful, I was told it is easy to miss. We wouldn't want—"

Crystal is only half listening to him, eyes idly tracking Charles as he strides confidently away from them with a spring in his steps and his eyes on the ground... Which also makes her the first to see Charles slip down and disappear.

"Mr. Rowland!" Edwin exclaims when Crystal's surprised yelp catches his attention.

He looks abruptly pale in the light from his brooch, and when Crystal sends an arm out in front of him to make sure he doesn't end up the same way as his colleague, he glares at her in a way that almost makes her wonder if he's going to hex her.

"It won't help if we fall down too," she says, grateful to see Mr. Payne take a breath and sigh.

"You are correct. Let's look carefully."

Keeping their light sources high, they carefully make their way to a wide, fairly narrow chasm in the ground. It's wide enough to let a person through, but no so wide that it'd be difficult to jump over it. Not, the thinks, the kind of thing a playing child would worry too much about. Hell, if her parents hadn't said she went to play alone that day, Crystal would imagine her challenging her friends to see who'll have the guts to make the jump.

"Charles?" She calls out cautiously.

"Mr. Rowland! Are you well?"

A grunt comes from the bottom, and both Crystal and Mr. Payne sag with relief.

"Mr. Rowland?"

"Mr. Payne," Charles replies, sounding more like they're meeting in the streets than someone who just took a fall of however many feet. "Do try not to fall down. This think is at least sixty feet deep."

"Do you see a sign of young Rebecca anywhere?"

"It's too dark, I can't see anything. Let me get to the drift globes."

"Please do put on your ring as well," Mr. Payne says as he pulls a string of copper wire out of his pocket. "I would rather avoid shouting too much when we have no idea what took Miss Aspen here."

"You think it could be a creature?" Crystal asks, looking around. "I haven't seen anything big enough to want to go toe to toe with a kid."

"Not on the surface," Mr. Payne admits with a pinched expression, "and it is entirely possible Miss Aspen went wherever she is now of her own volition... But there are some seas creatures that do not turn their noses up at human meat."

Crystal grimaces, but before she has time to voice her disgust at the thought, Mr. Payne pauses.

"Mr. Rowland says there is no sign of her or another body where he is," he says, "but the tide is coming in. Come, young Crystal. We need to find a point of entry that can also be used as an exit."

"What about Charles?"

"He will go look for Miss Aspen, of course." Mr. Payne points down into the chasm and, speaking into his copper wire, says: "Do be careful, Mr. Rowland."

And then he takes Crystal further towards the coast.

[foone]

Jay peered around the doorframe over the corpse of the security guard. In the dim light of the still-illuminated exit signs, he spotted the attackers. Three figures, two carrying what looked like over-complicated crossbows, and a third hanging a few steps back, holding a dimly glowing rod and wearing some kind of tank on their back. A flamethrower? Maybe.

They're methodically checking all the offices along the hallway, ignoring the open door. Clearly they're worried about a surprise popping up behind them from one of the doors.

He leans back into the office. The wizard is rapidly writing something on the tablet, as the translator tries to keep up. Jay walks over and asks the translator what's going on, seeing the wizard's gestures towards the door.

"I'm not 100% sure but he says they will be sending squads with a magician, who has a... tank? Jar? And that you need to break the tank, and he'll take care of the rest."

Jay resists rolling his eyes. "That easy, huh? I saw when the guard fired at them, they're bullet-proof!" he says, checking how many rounds are in the guard's gun, more to reassure himself than anything else. The actual number is not very useful to know, if they can't actually hurt these invaders.

The translator writes out some words on the tablet, and the wizard slaps his head and quickly writes out a response. "this is not the best time for a chat, any chance you can hurry it along?" he mumbles, nervously checking the doorway again.

"I'm trying, I'm trying! Okay he says they have a shield which slows down fast moving things. So if you're close enough, it'll still work."

"Great. How close?"

"I have no idea. I don't understand their units yet."

"oh lovely! See if you can figure that out. I'm not optimistic about our chances either way... There are three of them, and two have weapons. Even if I can rush one, that leaves the other to put a hole in me, and then you."

"I'm working on it! Let me... Wait. Wait wait. It doesn't rain on their planet, remember?" she puts down the tablet and starts digging through her purse. "yeah?" "are all these sprinklers connected?" "what? I think so. Why?"

She climbs on the table, which wobles worryingly. Reaching up to the sprinkler, she lifts a scruffy lighter pulled from her purse.

"Tell me when. This should give you the opening you need!"

He stares at her, once again not sure exactly how much she's mad versus brilliant. "that's... That might work. Okay, get ready!" he says, kneeling by the door. There's only a few doors left before the attackers get to them. He thinks of mentioning that if this doesn't work, she's likely to be the first shot they take, standing on the table like that, but thinks better of it. It's the best chance of getting they have to get out of here without an impromptu piercing from those crossbow goons, and it would just worry her.

"See if you can get him to hide in the corner. I don't want them to get a lucky shot and take him out before we have a chance to fight back."

"oh good point. Can you hand... Oh right" she leans down to grab the tablet, but this turns out to be the last straw for this flimsy government-grade interview table. The table, tablet, and her all come crashing down with a terrible noise. A loud noise, which unfortunately prompts a response from down the hall.

Jay starts repeatedly swearing under his breath and takes aim at the doorway. So much for the plan. No no no, this isn't going to work. They're expecting this. They're checking each door carefully. I need them off balance. Oh well, time to do something foolishly heroic.

He steps against the far wall, near where the translator is being helped up by the wizard. He breathes deep, once, and runs for the doorway, hopping over the security guard's corpse as he goes.

As he enters the hallway all the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, and the air feels electric. He turns to run at the intruders, who are only a single door down the hallway and have their crossbows already raised. Oh shit he thinks as he goes into a dive, barely thinking about why he does that. He doesn't hear the firing so much as the wall behind him splintering, and the clattering noise as one of the bolts hits the floor and bounces along it, failing to embed itself in the tiled floor.

Raising his gun, he fires at the worst target. The unarmed woman (he can now tell) wearing the tank of blueish-green liquid). The other two are already reloading or going for their backup weapon, so he should be taking advantage of this moment of confusion to take them out. That's what his training told him, and he could almost hear his old instructor screaming in his head. Too bad, he puts his faith in the wizard, and hopes he's not about to die from a mistranslation.

His shot misses her, handily. The tank worn on her back shatters like a wine glass, and there's a moment of pain as it diffuses into the room. He tastes metal and mint and his ears ring.

The woman is stepping back and raising her staff. The crossbow solders have shaken it off much faster than him, and one pulls out something that looks like nearly the exact midpoint between a hunting knife and a short sword.

Jay tries to will his muscle to move and roll towards shooting him, but his arms are feeling like he sleep on them, the pins and needles tingle going from his fingers to his shoulders. This is not good.

And then there's an alarm in the distance. A moment of pause, and grey-ish black water sprays down on all of them. The sprinklers!

The intruders act like they've been teargassed. You don't appreciate how long people born on earth have had to get used to the fact that it rains, and for people who've never even seen a cloud, getting rained on is a new and frightening experience, even if it's a poor imitation of a rainstorm being provided by barely up to code fire suppression systems.

He manages to raise the gun enough to shoot the man nearest him, and his screaming turns into a choke, then silence. Jay has no illusions about being able to get turned around to take out the other guy, and who knows what the woman is capable of? But maybe this will even the odds a little. He gets about halfway to pointing at the other soldier when he's hit by a truck.

Or at least it feels like it. He's thrown down the hallway by the force of the impact, confused by the lack of anything visible hitting him. He loses his grip on the gun, and hitting the far wall at the end of the hallway definitely doesn't do anything for the tingling in his upper body. He raises his head enough to see down the hallway, where the woman is holding up that staff, which is now glowing an angry read. Oh right. They have wizards.

The blue haze of the spilled liquid from her tank is still floating around the floor like someone dumped dye in a smoke machine, but as he tries to force himself to get up and grab the gun, he notices it's all flowing in the open door of the interrogation room. He idly wonders if the AC is still running (how could the AC be running? They cut the power! Also, why am I thinking about this? I may have a concussion...) as the soldier and wizard (are female wizards witches? Sorceresses? Do they have a different term at all?) walk towards him slowly, the soldier finishing loading his crossbow.

He fires. Jay closes his eyes instinctively.

There's nothing. No pain, no impact sound of a miss, just a ptwang of firing and then silence. He opens his eyes. The bolt is stopped in mid air, by the open door. The wizard-lady shouts something, and Jay doesn't need the translator's help to know that that's a swear, and not a very nice one.

The wizard they were interrogating walks... Floats? Jay isn't sure how much is magic and how much is the concussion. He... moves into the hallway, and the witch-enchantress raises her staff while rapidly saying a lot of words, and the solder goes for his knife-sword.

His floating wizard friend raises his hand and...

Shit. Did I black out?

A moment had passed. The wizard is still standing there. The solder and magical girl (a sailor moon theme song begins playing in Jay's head, unbidden. Yep, definitely a concussion) are not. There's no sign of them. Not even a scorchmark on the wall or a bloodstain on the floor.

That's a little worrying. Okay, a lot worrying. Note to self, don't get on this guy's bad side. Also, minor update from your still functioning senses: he's standing over you now. Maybe see if you can react to that?

Jay tries to get up, and the wizard puts out a hand. "Here, let me help"

As Jay is pulled to his feet, he realizes why that sounds weird. "Now I know I have a concussion, because since when do you speak English?"

"since about 2 minutes ago. Come on, we need need to get out of here. They wouldn't just send one squad, and they will quickly notice that that we stopped one of them."

Jay tries to walk and it turns into a limp and nearly collapsing into the wall. "we? I'm pretty sure that was mainly you."

"nonsense. I couldn't have done a thing until you took out the matra tank". That word sizzles in Jay's head, like it's a wire that's improperly grounded. I guess that's what happens when the magic can translate something?

The translator reappears at the doorway, nervously looking up and down for any further attackers. "Are you alright?" she asks Jay.

"I'll survive, but we need to get out of here. Can you help steady me? If we can get to the stairs I can drive us out of here, but I'm still a little off balance from whatever that-" he pauses, his brain having run out of female-magic-user synonyms, "thaumaturgist!" (where did that come from?) "... Uh, from whatever she did to me, or from hitting the wall after she did the thing she did to me. I may be slightly loopy, as you can probably tell."

"Sure. Rudapedi, can you hold him up on that side?" "of course. Let's go. "

So his name is Rudapedi? It's a good thing these magic users don't speak Latin, or that might mean something like... Stinky feet? Wait, I don't think "rude" means stinky... I can't remember much of my Latin classes. Pecavi? Why is the world spinning so much, and what does Latin have to do with it?

Everything is going black. His last words before the warm velvety embrace of unconsciousness are "puella est in cena."

[ayearofmalec]

Welcome to A Year Of Malec,

This is a year long event for all you other Malec lovers! Since there are so many wonderful fanfictions written by brilliant authors, we wanted to share the fantastic works with you - FOR A WHOLE YEAR!

So this is how it works: Every day for a year, we are going to post a Malec fanfiction rec. THAT'S 365 MALEC FANFICS! And because we don't want to loose ourselves in so many awesome stories, we sorted them into monthly themes.

For the month of January, we're looking at Malec as parents and there are so many amazing stories that capture their love for each other and their children.

Our first recommendation is "New Starts" by aurora_chiroptera!

Rating: Mature

Summary:

Even with the Institutes closed following the Revised Accords 15 years ago, Magnus still found he had to deal with the Clave more than he liked. But when Alexander Lightwood shows up at his door in need of a place to lay low and work on starting a new life, he finds little reason to say no.

In a world where the Downworld rebelled and won, Magnus is High Warlock of NYC and Alec was his contact within Idris to smuggle out captured downworlders. But when Alec needs to flee the Clave, Magnus finds himself with three unexpected roommates. Luckily, the kids seem to get along.

Or, I made an AU just to write a fic that is 90% single parent fluff and 10% to say Fuck the Clave.

Link to "New Starts" 

If you enjoy the story, you should definitely let the author know by leaving kudos or a comment.

We hope you decide to join us for the ride!

Your AYOM-Team, @springlily25 and @lifeofpatterns

P.S.: If you have any good Malec as parents recs or ideas for future themes, feel free to put them in our ask box - thanks!

[randomfoggytiger]

Typing: INTPs In Their Own Words

A short while ago, I created a Mulder Typing post explaining why he's an INTP (not INFJ/INFP); and, while I was compiling notes, I collected some comments from INTP users and stashed them away in a document. While going back through to get inspired for a future post (whatever that will be), I found them again; and was struck with a brilliant idea: why don't I simply post them in full so that everyone can read INTP thoughts/processes in their own words? There are many flavors of INTPs (since Typing is just a system showing how the brain processes information, not a personality box you have to stuff people into-- the old Nature vs. Nurture dynamic)-- perhaps you'd be interested in what they have to say?

There's a lot of good, some bad, and a little ugly; but we need a full picture to see these good souls for who they are~.

(Shoutout to my INTP mutual @baronessblixen! She mainly inspired this post for me~.)

**Note**: I will try to translate the technical terms as I go along (since they are mostly referring to Typing terminology and processes), so don't worry if the comment doesn't make much sense at first! :DDD

And now-- in no particular order-- here they are on their own terms!

""Why bother... Why do I even bother?.... Why would anyone care?...." The mantras of the INTP"

""They are legitimately worried that other people in the world are stupid."" As an INTP, I genuinely started to have that worry when I started noticing that my former classmates are holding executive jobs. As for fashion sense, I used to let my mom buy my clothes until late high school. But in the past 10 years or so and probably due to my ENTJ sister's influence and my interests in arts I started to develop a bizarre wardrobe. It had mellowed down a bit but I still get "that looks cool but I'd never do it myself" comments."

"I’m an INTP and the telling the same story over and over again is definitely a thing. But I don’t do it because I don’t remember having told it that person, usually. I’m usually the one who remembers everything I’ve ever said to someone, or heard from them in response in unreasonable amounts of detail. And then, over time, no one else remembers our conversations as well. So I start telling the same story I like telling, assuming that either they don’t remember hearing it, or if they do, they’ll stop me and say they remember me telling that one."

"The Ni critic explains why i can never decide on an acedemic/career path. Afraid of not choosing the wrong path or not being able to contribute anything new/novel/inovative to the field. But desperately wanting to prove to the world our brain has some thing significant to contribute but afaid of failing"

"Ti is logic and it’s basically what the individual believes is true or false. Like me, for example, if this is truth and this has to be true, basically, if this-then this, constantly." 

"My INTP younger sister is exactly like this [easily exploited]. I hate when she lets peope use her at a door mat. I've dated many INTPs as an INTJ female and really really love the dynamic. But how do I cultivate "immoveability" into the INTP? Personally, my own views are what matter to me, but I find INTPs to almost be too flexible (if that makes sense). One of my exes used to get taken advantage so much it caused me to question his love for himself. I love my sister and obviously want wants best for her, how do I give her some of the INTJ "immoveability" to be less of a door mat?"

"So I’m an INTP but I don’t feel like I’m nowhere near brilliant. I now understand why I always felt so different from everyone else. I understand stuff easier than most but I have to break it down and reiterate to myself. I also did poorly in school until last 2 years of college.... I also have a hard time putting my words together or finding the right thing to say or word to use."

"As a INTP I hate jobs with hierarchy. The idea that someone with a lesser mind will be in charge of me will irritate ... me. At the same time I don't want to be the boss either, the idea of having to baby sit lesser minds will also irritate me lol. The person in charge in my opinion has to be highly intelligent, because that is the only time ill accept it because then I feel like I actually have something to learn from that person to further my own knowledge and the position they have is actually justified in my head."

"In my opinion, INTPs "inevitability" stems from their pessimistic functions, both in the ego and the shadow. The sharp Ne [Me: the fate of all humanity, not just one's own path forward] parent with how responsble it is with its forsight combined with the Fe [Me: human interconnection and emotional outreach] in aspirational mode can provide the most efficient choices for anyone to be better. While their shadow reinforces with  using their will with Ni [Me: personal future and fate, the path one creates forward for oneself] critic and principles with Fi [Me: personalized morals and beliefs] demon/angelic to give structure and brings things to reality to what they foresee."

"I’m an INTP, and can tell you in all honesty that we view forgiveness very differently than all the other types. Forgiveness is but something that you acquire, but in fact more of a gift. You either have it, or you don’t"

"MBTi type claim that they’re INTPs and use it as a crutch to not get anything done or not to go anywhere in life. To be honest, that’s not how that works. INTPs just get too comfortable, and really the only way to motivate an INTP or an INFP because they have Si child is to just make them uncomfortable, and to pull them out of that behind the scenes realm. So, in general respect the behind the scenes, but if they’re not growing as people, if they’re not becoming better human beings, be prepared to pull them out of the behind the scenes, be prepared to expose them, because it’s the only way they will grow. They only understand pain. It’s kind of like those people who have to hit rock bottom before they ever grow up, right?" 

"[Me: Context-- INTP's Nemesis makes them want to question everything, even if they like the information they're given; but often ther Si Child doesn't want to get out of their comfy routine to actually fact check it.] The nemissis thing is funny because as I watched this (and just about everything else I have some experience with) I thought "yeah you seem to have a good grasp of this, but if I had time..." and then I moved on, my inner critic was appeased."

"It doesn’t mean that we should be labeling them hermits or these people who are not good with human beings, etc. Especially INTPs, people are just not as much of a priority to them, because they’re too busy playing with their metaphysical systems. You know, it’s like a big toyland universe that they have access to, mentally, that they’re able to use their thinking models and solve problems. Life to them is a giant puzzle box. Let them play with their puzzle box. They really need that."

" I was talking recently with an INTP mother, who’s actually very good at type, and she trained her son or her daughter, I don’t remember which … But she’s married to an ESTP and they go to church and get involved in church events, and she’d be extroverting in her unconscious or her subconscious side of her mind at that point, and then all of a sudden, she’s like tapped out of energy and she just has to completely disappear and people are like, “Where did she go? Where did she go?” And you’ll find her in a corner where there’s like nobody but her, literally doing nothing but playing puzzles. That’s just how INTPs are."

"Whereas Ne users are very beautiful, they just like to be told by the Ni user what they should do, right? Because the Ni users connected to extraverted sensing and then the Ne users able to be like, okay, “Well I should do this because that’s what you want,” right?” That’s how it works. [Me: Meaning-- Ni users are more focused on what they want/their path forward; and Ne users are less focused on those areas, and are chill if Ni calls most of the shots as long as their opinions/voices are heard.]"

"Fe [Me: INTPs] users want to feel valued, not be source of value. [Me: Meaning-- they don't want to be the stereotypical male bird in a mating ritual dancing and making a big fuss. Others can do that to make them feel valued; but that's not how they show someone that they love, value, or care about them.]"

"Growth and self improvement has always felt to me to be an illusory concept. Obviously we change based on experiences but you can never predict if the experiences you are about to experience are going to lead to being "better" than you were. And what constitutes better? This is the philisophical black hole an INTP like myself can get stuck in when it comes to wanting anything."

"My Fi Demon is a really sharp and brutally honest critic that tells the object of my anger everything that makes them wrong. It’s often followed by guilt, even though I’m only speaking the truth without applying any filter."

"I think with INTPs if they are smart taking the initiative to learn from self help books or if they grow   up in a family and environment that constantly challenges them, it's more about learning what to avoid after repeated experiences of getting burned. I learned about physical pain through sports starting at a young age thanks to my father and social anxiety, dealing with it head on in sports locker rooms, taking toastmasters classes to become a good public speaker, approaching people in cold approach sales etc. So I have the ability to tolerate pain if needed but also have the knowledge on what to stay away from because I've experienced it repeatedly and already know the outcome." 

"I definitely wish my parents had been strict with me. When I asked them for advice, they told me they had no advice to give, and that I should do whatever I want to do. I support myself now, but I spent 10+ years aimless, living off of them. I would have built more useful skills, self-respect, confidence, and better values if they had guided me towards a career and a normal lifestyle. I will definitely give my kids an ultimatum to move out and support themselves for at least a year at age 18, but also will give loving guidance and provide a sense of how to live rather than a liberal attitude of laissez-fair parenting."

"those INTPs, you know, driving their car, they’re like the old man driving their cars, you know what I mean, or the old woman, taking their jolly sweet time, you know, not really in a hurry, I’m never in a hurry. I make sure there’s enough time in my day scheduled, so I can take my time on the road, and [others], you know, cuss at me, honk their horns at me, you know" 

"I agree with you about the subconscious part of INTP. We do care about our loved ones. But if we KNOW that they’re not going to listen, why would we bother?"

"hero of the INTP is a little different. It is Ti hero, logic comes first, they can see into the future of other people, but they do it from a more responsible, a pessimistic point of view." 

"I know that although I always had a real hard time falling in-love and develop strong feelings for a guy, I didn’t have any difficulties being committed and loyal. I know that as a female INTP, it takes lot to decide on a lifelong partner, but once that decision is made, I am fiercely loyal"

"Sometimes, as an INTP, I feel like that I actually am a really-really bad person. I think that I'm actually a psycho, but now I know the reason. When my father died 7 years ago, I remember it was a cold night, my families were grieved, my mother was cried hysterically and so my big brother. Instead, I did not feel anything atm, my aunt kept telling me that my father Infront of me already died but I still didn't feel anything. I was thought that it just a phase of human life and everyone will die eventually, until my brother yelled at me 'What are you doing? It's our father who died!!!' So tried so hard to cry, I didn't even know if that was a real cry or not. And when everyone was still grieving, I decided to sleep so maybe tomorrow I would get my feeling and start to grieve. But after several weeks, I started to think that I don't have my father anymore, the one who was always love me no matter what I did, then finally I can feel my lost and start to cry sincerely. Don't be like me my fellow INTP friends, feeling is important. Don't be so full of logic in those important moments and just blend in. Have a good day!"

"Most of time I have to outsmart myself to not smoke weed, lay in bed, play video games, watch movies and rather go to work instead. Getting out of the comfort zone, nah rather, throwing myself out of the comfort zone is so crucial for me. It completely changes my mindset and pushes me towards growth."

"I'm an INTP. I was married to a very abusive man and had spent 8 years trying to make up my mind as to what I was going to do about it. I went to work one day with a black eye and a co-worker said "if you don't leave him I'll call CPS and then your kids will be taken away" (whether she would have done it or not, idk). That forced me to make the decision to leave and take me out of my "comfort zone". It was the best thing that someone has ever done for me."

"I loved when you talked about wisdom being harsh and "fire". Yeah turns out telling someone "here's the harsh truth about what you're doing wrong, just stop doing it and you'll be fixed" doesn't go over well with most folks. As a teacher, I could absolutely tell how kids were going to turn out due to their parents' behaviour (if the parents were too accepting, the kids would end up helpless; if the parents were too inconsistent, the kids would be unreliable as well etc.) But would I bother telling this to parents? No, of course not, no one likes to be told they're parenting wrong, no one would listen to advice from me, a childless professional with years of experience. Sigh."

"Society appreciates ignorance rather than wisdom."

"I am an INTP. As an ex-smoker it was really hard to stop smoking cigarettes I tried everything but I just couldn't. It was frustrating to me that there is something controlling me. That was [eating away at] ... my brain.I found a book called the easy way to stop smoking on Reddit recommended by ex-smokers. I read it I stopped in a week. Now I'm 8 months clean. I distributed the book to all the people i know who smoke ligit the whole uni. No wants to read the book they think they won't stop they don't believe me. People don't like to take advice people just don't care. This makes me sad."

"It's scary how accurate this is. I almost feel called out for my ways of thinking. In typical INTP fashion I hate being predictable so it's weird to see someone get something this spot-on"

"I see these personality types like INTP as a starting point for personal development and not as a destiny. For example I try to be the one who kicks me out of the comfort zone instead of being dependent on someone else to do that."

"When he said people will hate you and alienate you because you always think your right and come off as arrogant but you usually are right which makes them hate you more. My whole life summed up and yet I never understood why it seemed people had an aversion to me when I had the best intentions. Now I know"

"[Me: Context-- this poster is not an INTP, but has a lot of Fe users in their family. Further context: INTPs are Fe users] I have a family with, I think, a lot of Fe functions. I mean, it does get overwhelming as time progressed and I feel like I'm being gaslighted not being as normal as them, but I can handle it, yes. But the repeating part is just so true. My mom and dad like to repeat stuff as they say it i.e "Don't forget to bring them. Don't forget to bring them. The bag for grandma. Okay ? Don't forget to bring them."

"This was really interesting to watch. I feel that my Trickster Ne is worse because of my Asberger's, it's much harder to interact with people and be aware of my surroundings. Interacting with people and understanding them can be completely exhausting and draining. Weirdly, I find it incredibly hard to predict people, but when I do, it's scarily accurate. My husband, an ISFP, gets so frustrated that I'm "always right". He does have to push me to do things, too. LoL. He, as you said, doesn't give me options but just tells me to stuff, and I do it, kicking and screaming the whole way. :P"

"I am lucky to have a mom that appreciate me and tells me about it quite often, which is very good-feeling, but if she thinks that I'm getting too lazy, she'll be sure to make a move. Really happy to have her in my life."

"I have always had zero fashion sense and 'sloppy' with messy hair is my default look. To help me understand the art and science of dressing right, I have been studying the Kibbe body type system and seasonal color analysis for awhile now, and it was a great starting point. I ended up going really deep into it (like I would any other science), adding my own theories to it. I'd analyze and type friends and family, giving them fashion advice with great accuracy. As for myself, I still look sloppier than ever. Ugh. It's the shopping I hate. And I am too attached to my large comfy hoodies. I need to change lol. I mean, I am an attractive woman otherwise, and I'd like to settle down in the near future. Dressing like a 17 year old boy who lives in his mom's basement certainly isn't helping".

"As an INTP I get stuck in familiar and safe logical pattern loop, caused by my own thinking. On top of that I choose to endure that pain of not taking a risk, being open to risk and taking risk causes me anxiety. Not knowing what to want scares me even more cause i can see the logical fallacy of will and desire with its shortsighted-ness, which causes me further to retreat to my safe routine which i'm willing to endure cause its familiar or obligatory, not taking risk. Its like the saying 'paralysis by analysis', invoking fear and anxiety to risk taking."

"So, I am INTP and also a Psychology student. It's a little bit tiring explaining that I don't want to make therapy. I just want to follow the investigation path and well... they all just say then why did u choose Psychology- and then I am like bcs I WANTED TO KNOW HOW WE WORK. Sad hours... lol"

"I'm not afraid other people are stupid.  I'm afraid they'll misunderstand, which is a slightly different Te nemesis manifestation because that misunderstanding is a HUGE threat to everything I do and it happens a lot.  Also, I can be very ascetic.  Wants are difficult for me.  You put that on the Si child function but I really think it comes from the critic and the blindspot acting in tandem.  Because Se trickster doesn't just mean I bump into stuff.  I barely even recognize material reality.  Like it actually [angers] me ... sometimes that I have to have a physical human body. I don't really understand the necessity of this skin suit.  But as long as I've got it I may as well make it comfy right?  So, I'm off to play PUBG and get some of that dopamine we love so much". 

"As an intp I always felt like I could tell what people were going to do, but until now I never rlly figured the word used to describe it, I always just used the phrase i can read people better in certain situations but I never rlly felt socially adequate like others"

"Yeah... The best way to tick off an INTP is to know what peeves us, but do it anyway... We can tolerate a little, but one second past our timer(and you can't really ever know how long it will be at any given time), our patience will burn away FAST. The better we think you know us(<the "we think" is usually the reason it can seem to come out of the blue), the less tolerant ... we become. Our patience with strangers can be enormous(sometimes ridiculous or un-called-for), but those who we expect to be on our side are expected to know better(whether or not they understand that)... edit: typos"

"[Me: Context-- This is referring to an INTP being uncomfortable about being asked to talk about their innermost feelings casually.] As an INTP female, I have to say this was quite accurate :D I especially appreciated ''Never, ever ask and INTP how they feel! '' I would add, never give an INTP the advice "follow your hart". It makes zero sense to me :D"

"I'm an INTP, here's a little anekdote: When i was younger my dad often went out with me and my brothers to a lake and just relax in the evening before going to bed. So i was like 8/9/10 (dont know exactly) and before going there me and my brother had a discussion, about who is going to sit in the front seat in the car. We said he will sit there on the way to the lake and i will sit there on the way home. But when we wanted to go home, my brother switched into: "No, i am older than you and therefore its my right to choose the seat". We had a little fight and basically i was like: "Okay, ... i am out of here", so i just quit and walked about 15km into the little town where my grandparents lived, because - u know - at grandma's house everything is always fine :). My dad was searching for me, driving around and even thinking about calling the police..because i said NOTHING.. i was just gone I am 22 now and still i have some problems communicating my actions in terms of just leaving the situation. I am always thinking: "U dont have to care about me, you are fine as well so i dont have to care about you...so where is the problem?""

"I don't think an INTP forgets that he told the story already, I believe he tells the story he thinks about because it makes him feel better to talk about it. It's a selfish reason really, but I'm guilty as charged."

"i used to know this intp (i believe) friend. you are extremely on point... extremely. this guy was a red haired nerd who made me laugh harder than anyone i've ever met. i used to be amazed with his casual novel acumen. he often had me crying in laughter in class. he was a huge story teller (stories told over and over). i used to throw him random verbal stimulus (just throw ideas his way) to see his reaction. this man had, literally, zero friends in school (other than me) and i was generally considered somewhat popular and i would regularly leave larger popular groups of others to be around him for his insane entertainment value. he regularly called me a, "... idiot," which made me laugh every time (he would be dead serious when doing this). oh, and btw, i had to beg him to hang out with me when he did... to know how strange this is, you just have to know our situation i guess (like i said, i had the extreme social upper hand that he didn't care about)... anyway, he knew a bunch of small anarchist type knowledge like what would happen if you did these strange things like stick gum wrapper in a socket, rob places in particular ways; it was wildly interesting. the lack of attention he got from others baffled me because he was so unique and extraordinary in my eyes. i was always intrigued how his mind worked. it was intimidating being around this guy with so much street wisdom and casual ability to function flawlessly when he felt like it. ...he's now a pothead (smokes 4 times a day). he did earn a casual master's degree in psychology that he doesn't do anything with. if i smoked like he did, i would fail classes in days. he had a 4.0..."

"I was once told at 26 that I was too old to still be wearing “Sarcastic Tees” from Spencer’s like a 14 year old boy and should be wearing grown men clothes like a respectable member of society. I conceded to wearing flannel button up shirts over those tee shirts. May have been the best criticism that I ever received, because I’m often told how mature I dress now at 32... I guess not a lot of men these days look mature?"

"You just described my dad in 2 functions Ti= Super logical man. Loves motors and electricity. Thinks everybody's an idiot (Shadow Te) Si= Tells the same story a million times not knowing he told the story to the same person the last week. And the week before, and the week before. I've seen it. He doesn't know he's done it. 3 Sundays in a row he told the same story to the same man."

"Back when I graduated high school I skipped the ceremony. My family thought I was crazy and I was like, "so what, almost everyone has a high school diploma. Doesn't mean you're smart.""

"I had an INTP supervisor & his assistant is ISTP, they're brilliant with everything you've stated, but I think I was great at my office manger job & they were unsupportive with some changes I wanted to make. I was trying to create a more positive, supportive experience for our staff & clients by getting rid of [awful] staff. He agreed to fire 1 of the people I was adamant about, but ended up changing his mind (he can be a coward). At my last meeting with him he told me he appreciates me (but it pained him to do it) and I was very valuable to the program, so he does have a heart somewhere. He also said he was critical of me & other leadership staff, to help us. I let him have it. I'm not tolerating that .... He wanted to control everything, even from behind the scenes. He needs puppets and I wasn't going to be that. He is arrogant & 2-face. In front of clients & staff he pretends to be kind, behind their back he talks [badly about them]. He is also overly dependent on the istp too, when she leaves, he is [a goner]. Not a good match for me at all lol"

"[Me: Context-- INTPs are very chill until you ignore their warnings over and over and ruin their own life by extension.] I lost it when you described the Vegeta level tantrums.... So many flashbacks to grabbing the closest thing I could find and straight up hurtling it at someone's (my brother's) head."

"My first and to this day only experience in isfp super ego [Me: Meaning-- INTPs are their angriest/in a rage was, when my mom confronted me the morning before school that I didn't gave her an super important school letter the days before, so she wouldn't sign it that morning, I really thought I would need it this day (later I heard we would need it 2 days later, but I didn't know this at this moment) I saw my future and honor to the teachers and from the teachers breaking away, so let's get to the rage part, I ran into my bedroom and by mistake pulled the door 1meter away from where it should have been (it was ripped out those things which hold the door). That was a really shocky moment for me, because I thought I would have me under controle in such situations, but obviously I didn't."

"you nailed it why care when ppl don't want to know they hate you for caring"

"INTP here. As far as food goes, super adventurous and familiar at the same time. I'll try anything once, and if I like it I can eat it all the time. If I don't, I'll get the priciest/highest rated version I can to make sure it wasn't just the chef/ingredients."

"I'm a female INTP. I'm always so deep into my head that someone can be right beside me and I don't notice them. When they start talking to me, It startles me out of my head. There have been times when I have actually let out a slight scream. I usually get puzzled looks when I try to explain that I was deep in thought and didn't notice them."

"I'm an INFJ living with my boyfriend that is an INTP, and I had to laugh at some of your points because they're so accurate! This man is miserable [in] a suit!"

"I'm INTP and I'm trying to not stagnate, it's pretty weird, because it's seems easier to be moving than to start moving, so yeah moving is worth it I understand that logically, but that's not internalized and I just have incredible difficulty at starting to move forward, or even continue that without external help."

"i'm a intp, i love math, learning about things at school that are actually useful in my life, and the things that are not useful in my life i find it really hard to concentrate on."

"In school we had an art project once to do without the teacher. Just written instructions. I felt like I had understood what was asked and told my classmates. But they thought differently (in a actually wrong way). After ten minutes of pointless arguing I just left them where they stood and started doing my picture. I was practicly the only person who had time to finish. And I was the only one in my class that has understood the instructions correctly. In fact, this project had such bad results that the teachers didn't let it count for the grades. My whole class got Es and Ds while I got a B+. I got to keep the grade and dump another bad grade of mine."

"Used to think I was kind of a feeler and extroverted. Then I stayed alone over Covid... I invented a cure for aging and developed a new species of fish. I think I'm definately INTP. Absolutely nobody believes me, so I know that I must be one!"

"When I first saw the board, I saw Fe, Ti, Si and Ne. And literally it screamed out Iron, Titanium, Silicon and Neon."

"Although I’m not certain I am An INTP( I cannot figure it out!), the “everybody is stupid part” got humbled in me when I entered the oilfield workforce. I grew up with the idea that tradespeople are dumb, and if you aren’t university educated, you won’t be successful. After seeing firsthand that absolutely is not the case, and oftentimes we are struggling with the engineers( Usualt INTP) lack of foresight on their projects implementation. We also have this theoretical framework I use to learn how our plant works, but oftentimes it’s experience and outside the box thinking that operates the plant on a day to day basis. The framework is merely a framework, and reality is usually way different. Paper to implementation is never perfect. Tradespeople in my opinion are far more brilliant than those educated in our institutions and I find myself side by side with teachers, economists and the like. Something I didn’t mention was The humbling part for me was how stupid I was mechanically entering the work force. Able to explain complex plant processes but unable to drain a vessel to prepare for isolation( this is similar to how intps can become good cooks or drivers, by just doing it, million dollar concept eh??). I dedicated myself to doing things on my own like following manuals and YouTube videos for vehicle repairs and performing them myself. I am catching up to rest of my peers and once my working memory and mechanical ability are good, with my abstract ability I’ll be a very good plant operator."

"I’ve stopped doing it, now that I mostly eat lunch at home, but I had a habit of ordering only one dish in each restaurant I went to. My order was always the same, only the type of food changed. So, the waitress would see me and just put in my order. It was very efficient, I reasoned, no need to suffer through the ordering process every day. I wonder if they resented me for it or liked it."

"INTP's: say something that's obvious and really simple to us. ------------others:why are you so mean? ------INTP's: did you say something? ----Others: ...! ----- INTP: shrugs and goes back to absorbing information like a sponge."

"I am an INTP, but I don’t experience a lot of the apathy problems, mostly due to a dad that understands my needs. Also I understand the inferiority/ superiority paradox and constantly try to underestimate myself (still fail to see long term thinking in the majority of people) and try to give credit where credit is due"

"INTP female here; pretty accurate, feeling attacked lol used to be called ice princess as a child. my friends used to call me robot so when my [personality test] came out saying that INTPs are robots, my friends had a lot of fun with that."

"What would you say would be the cause for an INTP with a very messy apartment? I have a few things even from my high school days that haven't thrown away and I'm in my fifties. Also have trouble making decisions of what mail to throw away. Apartment at least navigable but not using nearly all the space that's available..."

"I have anger instead of apathy/indifference. I - or rather my Si - has gotten seriously tired of seeing the same mistakes happen constantly & their repercussions constantly affect my life too, so I can't bear to see people in my life make a similar mistake one more time; thus, I snap & I have to vent...."

"Don't fall into the trap of ignorance for Ti users: last known input or preferred input will make your Ti useless. You have to test and experiment with every opinion or premise, even if you disagree with them."

"A note on my physical environment: (I’m an intp) I do tend to set things down without even thinking about it, it’s like there’s a hidden part in my brain that decides when i want to put something down, and my body just does it, completely unaware. and since i don’t notice it, i can’t even consider whether the place i am setting the thing will lead to struggle in the future."

"[Me: Context-- Here's a rare 'brutally honest' INTP] I’m a woman who’s an INTP, and it’s definitely lonely lol I’m always correcting people, if what they are saying is false. I get told that most people don’t want to be corrected, and find it offensive. Which makes no sense to me. So I’m just rather indifferent when it comes to people. Same with advice, I’m brutally honest when people ask for my opinion/advice. They usually don’t accept it, and wonder why their situation didn’t turn out right"

"My fear of feeling like people around me are dumb have been quenched by my little brother being an ISTP, my mother being wise and my grandmother being an utter genius. If there are three intelligent people around me already there will be more. You will just have to find them and build networks of trust with people humble and knowlegable in their field. Edit: I had an emotional talk with my mother because I agree with my father (even tho his reasons are unknown) that my mother should stop funding my studies. Why? Because I feel like I need an incentive to do something, and I do nolonger want my father to have any authority to say anything to me. Just finally after 21 years to actually become a somewhat independent adult. I know I will always survive, but I am really stagnating."

"As a true INTP , i listened this while playing Sims 3 creating an INTP character , with music turned off while drinking coffee at 12:23 night. 10/10 would listen again. Anyway , i feel like only stupid people are repeating the same story over and over again. I have a rule , if i like a new person and we get close i use my crazy ... stories to "flex" and get close , but only one time. In fact if a person it's telling me the same story three times , im done, i send him/her to the "lame people zone"."

""Wisdom is like fire, it's truth. You gotta get burned in order to get closer to the truth."" THANK YOU. That was beautifully said."

AND LASTLY: INTPs who can't seem to pick a calling in life-- below is some advice (from Person B Person E, and Person F), commiseration, and soothing words of wisdom-- most INTPs change their jobs or career paths regardless because of their fluctuating interests!

Person A: "I am worried to pick my specialization. I dont know what to choose. I am interested in so many things and then i move on. Example: I love art, been going to extra curricular art class since childhood and we would try all different techniques. Even now when i do something, i am interested in it (sewing, knitting, editing photos, felting, clay modelling) and it never sticks long enough to become "proficient" in it, i do it just long enough to get the basics. I am using art or hand work techniques as an example, it is a hobby not a profession I wish to pursue..."

Person B: "Compare all interests, which one of them you stick to the longest and excites you the most. Use a scoring scale & hierarchy to compare so that it is easier to analyze. And then, refer to your Fe, of all those, which one would be the most beneficial to the society. Narrow down to 2-3 choices (you know it's hard to make one choice) and try exploring them (i.e take actions) to further make distinction which one is feasible for you to specialize in (I mean realistically). I was at one time that it is possible to me to choose any career path I want to, from medicine to architecture, from art and design to computer engineering. Just like in the video, a naive INTP decided not to choose because he knew people in those field and didn't feel like really great about them and thought it didn't feel too worthwhile to take on a path to be like them. I ended up compromising my specialization and chose a subjectively easier course just because I could continue learning other fields and I did learn them. Though right now, I didn't 100% regret my choice back then as I aspire to do integration of fields rather than traditional specialization, I didn't see any problem if I did choose one of the famous career path earlier and I might feel as fulfilling as I'm now but in different departments of fulfillment."

Person C: "I’m going through the same thing. I’ve completed my bachelors in science and I work as a youth worker... but I also want to be an author. In fact, it’s always been a passion but I’m just now realizing that. But I’ve also developed a passion in research while doing my undergrad so I’m wondering whether or not to pursue my masters since that might lead me to a more sustainable career"

Person D: "Everyone I Know: You are so gifted. You could literally be anything you wanted be without even trying. Just pick something. Me:.......There are so many options, but are any of them worth it. I fail to commit to one area of study and let years go by without moving forward in life."

Person E: "I think society puts so much pressure on what you're gonna do "for the rest of your life" and "it has to be the perfect fit FOREVER". Unfortunately it never works out like that, people change and you change, and you won't be the only person who will likely want to change careers later on in life, and that's ok. From what you wrote, it seems like you are more on the 'create and make' side of things, and I find that really cool, and I also think the best step forward would be to force yourself to stick to something and build it up a bit, after a while you'll find yourself comfortable with where you're at and you can either go to something else (creative jobs have lots of transferrable skills and you'll probably be very good at them if you wanted to) or stick with whatever you choose because it's now your new comfort zone Something that helped with my indecisive nature is reading a quote, basically: time will pass anyway, so might as well be a year in the future with a step forward towards a specific something than nothing at all."

Person F: "I struggled with this one for a bit at university when I found what I originally thought was the perfect profession that would blend everything together (medical illustration). I went to a school with a weak art program, wanted to transfer after the first year and felt guilty about starting something and not finishing it. I graduated with the degree but didn’t finish the art program. convinced a counselor to let me skip classes. Since I wasn’t at the level I needed to be 3 years ago, I changed my goal and decided to hold this one off until I’m way older. Do something for a few years then switch off when you’re ready for that next experience!"

WELP.

That's all for now!

If you want, I'll make another post in future-- maybe more INTPs, maybe some ISTJs (for Scully representation, post here~.)

Thank you for reading--

Enjoy!

Disclaimers: This is a self-assessed analysis. This information is not based on the abominable MBTI system (which has been butchered from its original Jungian typology since ~WWII); instead, it’s a combination between the works of Jung’s type psychology, Dr. Linda Berens’ Communication styles, Dr. Dario Nardi’s EEG brain scan compiled research, and others’ data and practices as compiled and simplified by CSJoseph. This system is based only on the Nature side of Nature/Nurture; and each “type” is not a “box” to fit everyone into– simply a tool to help understand the basics of the human mind that science has only begun to fathom in its limited scope.

[ladydorian05]

A Home for Broken Hearts ~ Chapter 4

Co-written with the brilliant @made-ofmemories

I had a tough week, we had to put down one of our dogs on wednesday, so I really don't have any fun fact or interesting stuff to say about this one chapter other than we really liked it and had fun writing it.

Hope you guys enjoy it!

Masterpost

Ao3

Chapter 4: A Walk Down Memory Lane

The sound of the front door opening doesn’t alarm Steve, it’s a little early for Robin to be back, but it’s not unheard of for her to return to the apartment on her lunch break or for her to have forgotten something. 

What is unusual is the knock on his bedroom door. Robin never knocks, no matter how many times he threatens to put a lock on there they both know he’s bluffing. The door opens and Eddie pokes his head into the room when Steve takes too long to answer.

“What’re you doing here?” Steve asks in lieu of a greeting, “And how did you even get in?” 

“Robin called, said you might need some help with something,” Eddie steps further into the room and perches himself on the edge of the bed, careful not to disturb anything, “She also told me where you keep the spare key.”

“Of course she did.” Steve sighs. He doesn’t know what she’s up to but he’s seen enough of her meddling by now to know she’s up to something, “Sorry about the mess.” 

He’s more than a little self conscious of the state of his room. He usually likes to think of himself as a relatively tidy person, but he’s let things slip lately. The laundry he still hasn’t done is in a haphazard pile in the corner of the room and the mere thought of Eddie looking over there and seeing his dirty underwear has a blush creeping up the back of his neck. There’s an empty pizza box on the floor, and he’s currently sitting cross legged on his bed surrounded by his ‘ex memorabilia’ as Robin likes to call it. 

“I’ve seen worse. So- what’re we doing?” Eddie grabs a keychain from the pile of trinkets Steve has built around himself and turns it around between his fingers, it’s silver featuring the word ‘Indianapolis’ along the bottom and the skyline of the city. It’s from a 3 day trip he took last year with his girlfriend of 4 months, Phoebe. They broke up 2 weeks later.

“Robin thought it might be a good idea for me to donate some more of this stuff to the gallery.”

“Wait- this is all from past relationships?” Steve nods and Eddie lets out a low whistle in response, “Damn, you weren’t kidding when you said every relationship huh?”

“You don’t have to stay, I’m not sure why she called you. I was doing just fine on my own,” Steve insists.

It’s not that he really wants Eddie to leave. They’ve spent nearly every single day together for a little over a week now, he enjoys Eddie’s company, they’re friends or something close to that at least and it’s not like Eddie is unaware of Steve’s collecting. Still, there’s something about sharing this with him that makes Steve feel vulnerable in a way he’s not sure he’s ready for.

“Uh-huh,” Eddie mumbles, more of a noise than a word. He picks up the small cardboard box Steve has set aside in one hand, an old shoebox with the word ‘donations’ written on the side of it in big blocked out black letters and a trash bag in the other. They’re both empty and Eddie tilts the box towards Steve as if he may somehow be unaware of this, “Looks like it’s going great so far.”

“Alright, maybe I could use a little help,” Steve admits, a bashful grin tugging at his lips in response to Eddie’s self-satisfied smile. 

Eddie shrugs off his jacket, the same heavy leather piece he usually wears. The shirt beneath is cropped just above the navel. Tattoos in the same style as the ones decorating his arms wind their way up either side of his abdomen. The one on the left catches Steve’s attention the most, a large portrait of some kind of humanoid monster that disappears beneath the hemline of the shirt. Eddie stretches and the shirt rides up to reveal the base of his ribs allowing Steve to catch a glimpse of the monster's mouth, made up of petals each coated with several rows of pointed teeth.

He knows he’s gawking, but he can’t help himself and his eyes drift higher. His breath catches in his throat when he sees the outline of metal bars, one pierced through each nipple, visible through the thin fabric that’s clinging tightly to Eddie’s pecs. He forces himself to look away before he does something embarrassing, like start drooling, or worse. 

“Awesome, so I gotta ask,” Eddie says, clearly unaware of Steve’s struggle as he casually sets the keyring he had been fidgeting with aside and holds up a single shoelace from the pile instead, “What’s the story behind this one?”

“Wallace the manwhore, as Robin used to call him.” Steve laughs and both Eddie’s eyebrows shoot up towards his hairline, his face the picture of amusement, “We used to play basketball together in senior year. He was the first guy I got with after I figured out I was bi. We dated for a little while, I thought we were exclusive, until I found out he was sleeping with a bunch of other guys the entire time. That shoelace is from one of the shoes he wore when our team won their first tournament.”

“That’s a lot to unpack, damn. Are all your exes assholes?” Eddie is clearly having fun with this, Steve wouldn’t have taken him as one to enjoy gossip. 

Steve thinks about the question for a moment, one name springs to mind and he smiles fondly at the memory, “Not all of them.”

“I didn’t know you played basketball.”

“Yup, sorry to disappoint, but I’m just your stereotypical meathead jock.” 

“I think there’s more to you than that.” He’s suddenly serious and looking at Steve with an intensity that makes him squirm, “So, What do you say?” He asks, switching back to that jovial tone with ease as he holds up the grubby old shoelace, “Ready to let go of Wallace the manwhore?”

Steve lets out a deep breath. He’s never been good at this part, but Wallace is a good place to start, “Put it in the box.”

It gets easier after that. Eddie helps, he asks questions about everything, gets Steve talking, makes him laugh. There’s something about sharing the stories that makes the letting go part seem a lot less daunting. The box and the bag start to fill quicker than Steve expected.

Eddie is no longer sitting on the bed and is instead pacing around the room taking in the cluttered shelves, occasionally he’ll drift back over to the bed to grab something from the much depleted pile.  He seems genuinely unphased by the mess and it eases Steve’s initial self consciousness. 

If there’s one thing Steve has learnt about Eddie this past week it’s his complete inability to stay still for longer than a few minutes. If he’s not on his feet he’s fidgeting with something, twirling a ring around his finger, tapping at a table top, or bouncing his leg along to an imaginary beat.

“Who are the little hobbits?” Eddie plucks a picture frame from one of the shelves and turns it towards Steve so he can see. 

It’s a photograph of Steve surrounded by Max, Lucas, Erica, Will, Mike, El and Dustin. Lucas has his hand thrown up behind Steve’s head giving him bunny ears while Erica does the same to her brother, Dustin has one arm wrapped around him in a half hug so strong Steve still remembers the pain in his ribs, Mike has his arms crossed mid eye roll, and Will, Max, and El are leaning in with wide smiles just looking happy to be there. It’s chaotic and a little blurry because no one would stay still long enough for Robin to snap a decent photograph, but it’s still Steve’s most prized possession. 

The photo was taken back in Indiana before the kids turned 18 and everyone went their separate ways, scattered across the country. They stay in touch, and he couldn’t be prouder of them all out there in their dream colleges making something of themselves. Still, every now and then he finds himself missing his babysitter Steve days. 

“The kids.” He smiles, but Eddie just looks more confused than before, “I was kind of their babysitter? One of them practically adopted me as his older brother and I soon found out they came as a package deal.” 

He laughs remembering the day he helped Dustin fix his bike in the middle of the street, he hadn’t known what he was letting himself in for at the time. A couple of weeks later and he’d found himself the unofficial babysitter of 7 unruly middle schoolers.

“I looked out for them, kept them out of trouble… for the most part. Actually thinking back on it I did a pretty terrible job of keeping them out of trouble, I usually just ended up getting dragged into it too. I guess I just- I don’t know, felt responsible for them.”

“I get it.” Eddie nods and sets the frame back into its place gently, “I got held back a lot at school, repeated senior year twice, so I was the oldest in my class most of the time and I guess that made me feel like I had to be responsible for everyone.”

“Like Chrissy?” Steve asks without thinking then instantly regrets it when he realizes he’s probably overstepping.

“Exactly,” Eddie confirms, unbothered, “We had this whole band of misfits, we called it Hellfire club. It started as a DnD club but it ended up being more than that and now I’m naming my bar after it. It’s actually how I met my band mates.”

“That’s… actually really sweet,” Steve says, trying not to get all soppy on him.

“I know right? Don’t tell anyone or you’re going to ruin my reputation,” Eddie jokes, speaking in a hushed conspiratorial tone.

“My lips are sealed.”

Eddie smiles at him and Steve looks away bashfully. It’s just a smile but something about it feels too intimate, as if he’s just trusted Steve with some life altering secret.

The moment passes and Steve turns his attention back to the task at hand. Eddie has drifted back over to the bed and is hovering at the side, picking through what’s left of Steve’s ex mementos. Apparently he’s done with the tour of Steve’s room he had taken himself on. Not that Steve had minded, it was kind of endearing how genuinely interested he had seemed in everything.

“Alright, what’s the story behind this?” Eddie asks. Steve looks up from the box of donations to see what Eddie has now. It’s a napkin from a restaurant that no longer exists with a number scratched into it with a blue pen.

“Linda, we were 19. We only went on one date, it didn’t work out,” Steve tells him, “It can go.”

Another item added to the bag and only a few more trinkets left, two of which are from the same relationship, Steve adds them both to the box without thinking about it. 

“Hey, how come you get to learn all about my failed love life but I know nothing about yours?”

“I’m married, his name is Elijah, and we have 3 adopted children,” Eddie says without a hint of sarcasm. Steve’s jaw drops. Eddie looks up, sees his expression then bursts into laughter, “I’m kidding, what do you want to know?” He drops down onto the bed, sitting cross legged opposite Steve. He’s so close that their knees bump.

“I don’t know.” Steve shrugs, “Tell me about your last relationship?”

“Met him at a gig, I broke up with him a month later.”

“Why?”

“He wasn’t the one.”

“The one?” There’s a mixture of disbelief and teasing coloring his voice, “I knew you were a secret romantic!”

“Alright, that’s enough of story time.” Eddie rolls his eyes and leans over to shove at his shoulder playfully when Steve gives him a goofy smile, “Hey, what’s this?”

For a moment Steve thinks Eddie has spotted the pair of glasses neatly folded on his bedside table. People usually seem surprised when they find out he needs glasses, not that he wears them nearly as often as he should. Then he remembers what he had left out next to them. 

“Nothing.”

Eddie, unconvinced, is shuffling up the bed and leaning over Steve to grab the little velvet box he’s got his sights set on from the nightstand. His stomach flips, filling with butterflies, and it’s not from the sensation of Eddie’s chest brushing against his. He really shouldn’t have left that out, not that he’d been expecting the company. 

“Is this a ring?” Eddie lifts it up to his ear shaking it then frowning at the noise it makes, “Did you propose to someone?” He gasps.

“No and no, can you just-” He makes to grab for it but it’s too late Eddie has already opened it and the silver chain is dangling from his fingers, the heart shaped pendant hangs heavy between them until Eddie grabs it to read the name inscribed into the metal. 

“Nancy? Who-”

“No one,” Steve says way too quickly for Eddie to ever believe that’s true, “That’s different,” He adds, more collected when he takes the necklace from Eddie and places it back into its box. 

There’s a beat of awkward silence that can’t last more than a few seconds but feels like a lifetime whilst Steve shoves the box into the nearest drawer.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to overstep, I thought it was just more ex memorabilia,” 

It is, but Steve’s not sure how to explain that right now, nor is he ready to share that particular story. So, he says nothing. It’s not lying if Eddie makes the assumption all by himself, right? Steve just… didn’t correct him.

“I didn’t mean to intrude,” Eddie continues when Steve doesn’t say anything. Steve feels like he should be the one apologizing when he sees those big brown puppy eyes looking up at him. 

“Don’t worry about it, you couldn’t have known.” Steve swings his legs over the side of the bed so he’s side by side with Eddie and bumps their shoulders together, “Besides, I think we did pretty good.” He shakes the box full of trinkets with a smile. Eddie smiles back at him and the tension dissipates just as quickly as it had formed.

It’s mid afternoon by the time they get to Hellfire with Steve’s new donations. Steve convinces Eddie to walk with him ‘to save gas’, though the real reason is so he doesn’t have to experience the heart palpitations that come from even the mere thought of Eddie driving  whether it’s as a passenger or just a spectator. Robin may constantly remind him that he drives like a grandpa, but he quite enjoys getting to his destination in one piece and without any frayed nerves, thank you very much. 

The air outside is sticky with heat, the initial cloud that had blanketed the sky earlier has parted making room for the early summer sun to shine. Eddie walks with his jacket slung over his arm and Steve stops to pull off his sweater a minute or two into the short walk to Hellfire, glad he’d chosen to wear a tee beneath it today. He thinks he catches Eddie’s eyes lingering on the slither of skin that is exposed along his midriff when the sweater rucks up the fabric of his t-shirt, but his eyes dart away just as quickly and Steve puts it down to his overactive imagination. 

“We got two more donations this morning,” Chrissy says as she passes by them at the doorway, paintbrush in hand. She’s always busy, always finding work to be done, “another shoe and a rubber duck. I already added them to the inventory list.”

“What is with the people of Chicago and collecting their exes shoes?” Eddie’s face is scrunched in confusion. He has a point, they have gotten an unusual amount of shoes.

“How come you haven’t donated anything yet?” Steve queries, beginning to unpack his little shoe box full of mementos. Eddie helps once he realizes what he’s doing.

“I told you, I don’t keep stuff from my relationships. I don’t have anything to donate.”

Steve doesn’t believe that for a second, but he lets it go for now, in part because Chrissy is back minus a paint brush but with Robin by her side and they’re both digging through his box of donations alongside Eddie.

“When did you get here?” Steve looks at Robin as if she’s grown an extra head. She’s not meant to be here.

“10 minutes ago, I had a half day at work.”

“It’s kind of sweet that you’ve kept some of this stuff for so long.” Chrissy says to him, her thumb gliding across a desk calendar from at least 5 years ago.

“Thank you!” Steve exclaims with a gesture and facial expression that says ‘see, she gets it’, Eddie shakes his head at them, “Now could you please tell that to Robin?”

Robin rolls her eyes so hard Steve thinks she must be able to see her brain.

“On second thought.” Chrissy grimaces, a toothbrush lifted from the box gripped gingerly between two fingers, “What the hell Steve?”

“See what I have to put up with now? I have to live with this.” Robin sighs as if she’s carrying the heaviest of burdens, but they both know she’d be lost without him.

“That is a precious heirloom,” He assures Chrissy, opting to ignore Robin entirely. He’s aiming for serious but amusement seeps into his voice despite his efforts, “From Oliver. I told you about him, right?” He asks Eddie.

“Is that the one you kept the letter from?”

“Yeah that’s the one,” Steve confirms, “He moved to Canada for a job, we tried the long distance thing, it didn’t work out,” He adds for Chrissy's benefit.

“Still gross.” She sets the toothbrush aside and starts digging through the rest of his collection, the keyring Eddie had picked up earlier, a rubix cube, a button, “Why did you keep his toothbrush if you had a letter?”

“Maybe he has a tooth fetish, Chrissy. Don’t kink shame.” Eddie doesn’t look up from his current task of organizing everything into neat little piles. It’s not going well, he keeps getting distracted by each object he pulls out of the box despite having seen them all less than half an hour ago in Steve’s room.

Robin laughs so hard she snorts.

“I don’t think that’s a thing,” Steve splutters, not as smooth as he’d been hoping for. Going by the expression on Eddie’s face when he finally looks at him Steve would say he’s enjoying this far too much.

“Leave him alone, Eds.” Chrissy flicks Eddie’s head. Steve doubts he even felt it under that mane of his, but he gives her an over dramatic open mouthed expression looking affronted as if she’s just slapped him. She laughs at his antics then collects herself before turning back to Steve, “Ignore him, why did you really keep it?”

“I… I don’t really know,” Steve says honestly, he rarely has a reason behind his choices he just keeps whatever feels right even if that does happen to be a lightly used toothbrush.

“Why do you keep any of this stuff?” Eddie asks, there’s no judgment in his voice, just genuine curiosity. Honestly, Steve had been expecting this one, he’s actually surprised it didn’t come sooner, “I’d understand it better if you kept stuff from relationships that felt really special, but… all of them? Do you really want to remember them all?”

Steve shakes his head, no, “We didn’t really have many knick knacks around the house when I was a kid, I guess this is my way of making up for it.” It’s half a truth, enough for them to drop the issue for now.

“This isn’t a knick knack, this is active trash,” Robin is holding a ball of scrunched up paper and frowning at it as if it’s about to open up and reveal to her the secrets of the universe.

“Shut up,” Steve is smiling when he bats it out of her hand and watches it roll to the floor between Chrissy and Eddie’s feet. He isn’t sure how that one escaped the trash bag and wound up in the box.

It’s a delicate balance finding suitable places for each item, somewhere that they won’t be disrupted by the ongoing construction work or damaged by a careless visitor. A task made even more difficult by the fact that the gallery gains popularity daily and the collection at Hellfire continues to grow. Some might call it cluttered, but Steve likes it. Each piece has a story from the single stiletto heel by the door to the row of lipsticks placed on the shelf behind the bar. 

He never expected this level of popularity when he and Robin had been picking out logos over apple pie. The two of them had discussed making it a real exhibition a night or two ago over a shared meal, a conversation that had started jokingly and slowly grown more serious as more and more people donated things.

A real display to tell people’s stories rather than the mismatch of objects dotted around wherever there’s space. It was little more than a pipe dream, they’d have to get actual funding and they couldn’t run the whole thing from Eddie’s bar forever or the, slowly filling, tip jar. Still, it was nice to dream every now and then.

<Chapter 3 ~ Masterpost ~ Chapter 5>

[gumpistol]

❤️ + enruiinas

Send ❤️ + a URL and I’ll write something nice about them/their blog!

♪ never gonna give you up! never gonna let you doown! ♪

    this is me, hanging onto dear life and clinging to saro whether she likes it or not! she is my ride or die, my brain twin, a fellow member of the AAA ( aro ace audhd ) club! i have so many things to say about her and how much she means to me, it hurts my brain trying to figure out where to start! but knowing me, it will be long, so buckle up buttercup~

    i will never forget our first interaction: i filled out her interest tracker, she came to my discord dms, and i swear we barely stopped talking with each other for the next 24 hours. when i had only known her for a day, it felt like we had been friends for years!! i still don't know what to make of that, but i don't think i've ever clicked with someone that fast. but the rest is history, and now we have so many threads in various verses together! 

    seriously, saro has such a massive brain with so many interests and thoughts and a desire to consume knowledge like i inhale a bucket of popcorn. she is one of the easiest people to talk to and bounce ideas off of. a good chunk of my character and story development for luffy ( and others ) are thanks to her picking my brain and asking the difficult character questions! she's excited to talk new ideas and what-ifs, and LOVES enabling me to write new muses. it is because of her that i ever started writing rosinante, robin, and penguin over on my multi~

    outside of writing though, she always makes me feel more excited to share and talk about my interests, including OP trading cards and my science-y rambles. SPEAKING OF! she loves me SO MUCH that today, despite hating making phone calls, she called her local card shop to see if they had a set of cards that i wanted!! as someone who also hates making phone calls, that is true fucking friend behavior right there ♡

    she really is quick to think about her friends. it could be the little things, like when she saves manga panels of unique luffy faces for me that i might not have yet, sends art of our muses, shares writing resources, or even just suggests reading the same science articles or listening to the same ologies episode together. she's also an excellent listener who gives meaningful words of encouragement, who refers back to things in conversation that i maybe said months ago, and who is a huge help when it comes to getting my brain unstuck on threads. 

    i haven't even touched on her writing and her Law portrayal though! when i say she puts SO MUCH work into doing him justice, i absolutely mean it. she analyzes even the smallest details, and her brain worms when she talks about him and his relationships are infectious. she got me so invested that she is the sole reason lawbin is now one of my favorite ships. she is the reason i put so much time and effort into a side character like penguin. and she is why i put so much stock into law and luffy's friendship. i. am. hooked.

    and i know she gets a little worried about the length of her writing sometimes, but the waiting period is worth it. the quality of saro's writing is so organic and it flows like reading a good novel. i'm convinced at this point that i could come to her with any sort of thread or verse idea and she could weave it into a beautiful story. god i'm so stupidly eager to write with her always!! 

    anyway, i wrote so much, but such is the nature of anything we write for each other. there's a lot that i didn't even get around to talking about, but in summary, saro is incredibly kind, fun, and so brilliant it makes me want to SCREAM! i love her a lot, she is one of my best friends ( if she disagrees then too bad ), and i'm incredibly happy that i get to be her friend :)

sent by: @mingos for: @enruiinas

[secondsonaym]

The Vessel Project - Lord Verchiel Knows Best - [Kallamar 1]

(read on Ao3 here)

⚠ Major warning for child abuse [Physical and verbal]

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

Ah… My turn already? I would have thought Heket would go on for several more pages… But very well.

When Shamura had asked us to help them with detailing the past eight years, I was… Reluctant, to say the least. 

After all, once we secure the status of the Old Faith and unite the sects, we’re going to scrub all traces of those damn birds out of the Old Lands. 

I’ll finally be free of that damn bastard’s face…

Ah… My apologies. Shamura has requested we not complain about our experiences for more than necessary. This log is supposed to be as ‘objective’ as possible, as they put it.

So let me tell you how… Objectively horrible Verchiel was. Not that I knew it at the time.

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

“Not a word. ” Lord Verchiel spat as we sank down into the darkness. Xe had readied a portal as soon as we stepped outside, which was shortly after Phanuel and Heket had reached the bottom of the steps.

Even without Xer prompt, I wouldn’t have spoken. It was clear Xe was in a bad mood, so why risk making it worse? No doubt, anything I would have said would have just made Xem even angrier.

Michael must have made Verchiel very angry, if he had actually made Xem strike him with Xer talons. Xe hated fighting, and hated getting dirty. 

“Now I must throw this robe out!” Xe wailed as we finally stepped into the calm of Anchordeep. “Blood is so hard to wash, and this material is delicate! ”

Thanks to some ancient charm, one that had been in place before Lord Verchiel’s time, Xe could move and breathe just fine under the water. Most of Anchordeep’s inhabitants were aquatic in some form or another, but a few air-breathers had joined the population in recent generations.

“Opal,” Xe said, turning to me, “You don’t think I’m letting Anchordeep fall to ruin , do you?”

“O-Of course not!” I said. Was that what Michael had said? How insulting! “You take good care of the land, and everyone loves you for it.”

Lord Verchiel turned and let out a sigh. The blood on Xer talons was already starting to disperse into the water, adding a gross metallic smell to it.

It was hard seeing Lord Verchiel like this. Xe tried so hard, with Xer limited energy, only for the other bishops to throw it back into Xer face. 

“I know I shouldn’t let Michael’s words get to me,” Xe said. “But he is so irritating. Like a grandfather who has lost touch with the world.”

Xe began to walk again, and I hurried after Xem. We were nearing the temple grounds, which was easy to see even late at night. Various statues of crystal stood around the temple walls, so brilliant they reflected even the smallest bit of light.

“Grandfather?” I echoed. “He doesn’t seem much older than… Than the other bishops.” I knew better than to imply Lord Verchiel was past Xer prime. It was impolite, after all.

“Hah.” Lord Verchiel snorted. “Though we all took on the crowns at similar ages in our lives, Michael has been the bearer of the Red Crown for much longer than the rest of us. Even the bishops before us said he had been around for who knows how long.”

“It feels odd to think that there were bishops before you.” 

“Well, of course. We’ve been around for centuries. You mortals couldn’t possibly comprehend the full scope of our reigns. With any luck, however, I will be in charge for many centuries to come, so there is no need to worry about all that.”

“Of course, My Lord.”

Soon enough, we had reached the temple. It was a large twisting spire made up of carefully grown coral, with countless embeds of pearls and other small gemstones. Even in the middle of the night, fluorescent lamps shone so that several of the gems could reflect the light, giving the temple an ethereal shine about it.

“Ugh, I can’t believe that Raziel! Keeping me up past my bedtime like that. The vessel project is certainly the first interesting idea she’s had in a while, but her consideration for other people’s schedules is abysmal!” Lord Verchiel spat as Xe signaled to one of the guards to open the door.

“Well, now you can get to bed as soon as possible.” I said, doing my best to lift Xer spirits. “No more interruptions until tomorrow!”

“Yes, yes, you are quite right. I will look forward to going back to my usual routine.” Xe agreed, stepping through the doorway. “Plenty of rest, like I deserve, and no need to worry about anything~”

At this, I couldn’t help but slow my pace a little, confused. Usually routine? But, now that the other bishops were aware of my existence, wouldn’t it be important that I begin training for my role? I wasn’t sure about the others, but certainly Raziel wouldn’t be above assassination or similar underhandedness…

“W-What about my training?” I asked, causing Lord Verchiel to glance back at me. 

“Hm? Oh, yes, yes, that, well obviously I won’t be managing that.” Xe said with a wave of Xer wing. “Chosen disciple or not, I am very busy with managing the order as a whole, Opal. Surely you didn’t think I would be training you personally ?”

“Ah… Well…” 

Lord Verchiel let out a laugh. It was slightly melodic, but fragile, like the tinkling of glass chimes. I had always liked Xer laugh. 

“No, no, my dear, one of the acolytes will help you. Chambersite, maybe, he’s quite skilled with combat. You’ll pick things up from him in no time.”

“Oh… Chambersite?” I mumbled before I could stop myself.

Chambersite was one of the more involved members of the order, a middle-aged eel who was always at Lord Verchiel’s beck and call. He was alright, I guess, but… Well, let’s just say in the brief moments we had spoken before Lord Verchiel and I had left for Raziel’s temple, Chambersite had made it quite clear he did not approve of Lord Verchiel’s decision. 

“A little runt like you’s got no business being in such a position.” He had grunted at me when Lord Verchiel was distracted with something else. “Xe should’ve chosen somebody who’ll actually know what they’re doin’.”

“Is something wrong with my choice, Opal?” Lord Verchiel asked, bringing me back to attention. When I locked eyes with Xem, I went rigid, feeling the steely looking Xe was giving down to my very core. 

Had Xe noticed my color change? I tried my best to control it, but it was still hard at times, and flashes of color still passed along my skin when I was particularly stressed. My whole family could read me like an open book because of this, and it was hard to mask how I really felt.

But it had been these same color shifts that Lord Verchiel had taken notice of, had complimented me for. I certainly wasn’t the first squid with these abilities, but Lord Verchiel had called mine ‘unique’, of all things.

“I have an eye for these things, dear.” Xe had said. “I know quality when I see it. I know best.”

Right, why was I worrying so much? 

Lord Verchiel knew best. 

Chambersite was perfectly fine.

“N-No, not at all.” I stammered, shaking my head. “I think Chambersite will be an excellent teacher.”

“Good, good. Now, I am off to my personal chambers. I trust you know your way to your own quarters?” Xe asked.

“Y-Yes, Lord Verchiel. I wish you a good night. And… Um…”

“Spit it out, Opal.” Xe said, a clear note of impatience entering Xer tone.

“I just… Wanted to thank you. For the opportunity. It’s an honor.”

“The least I could do to express my gratitude to my followers.” Xe said with a smile before turning and continuing to walk. “Sweet dreams, little Opal.”

I watched Xem go, vanishing down one of the decorated archways. After a few more moments of staring, I made my way to the hall that led to the acolytes’ living quarters, to find the room that had been given to me when I had first been brought here.

Unlike the outside, there were no lamps in the halls, meaning I would have to be careful as I navigated the area. I gently placed a tentacle on the wall as I walked, keeping myself steady as I moved in the darkness. 

Reaching my room wasn’t particularly difficult, as it was near the end of the hallway, but I paused with my hand on the door, thinking for a moment.

The other children I had met had been quite… Different. 

Heket was so nice and bubbly; Leshy was quiet, but observant; Shamura was… passionate, about their devotion to Raziel. And Narinder…

I recalled how the cat had started crying after we spoke about sacrifice. I hadn’t said anything at the time, but I did find it rather upsetting. I just wanted to share how the Pestilence sect handled sacrifice, not to make him upset…

Then again, why did I care? He was an enemy now. If it came to it, I would have to… Kill him…

Kill… Him…

Why did that idea stir something in me? Why did my stomach twist and my legs went weak at the thought of facing him--or anyone , really, in battle?

…

I was probably tired, that’s all. It was late, and I really needed to sleep.

So without any further delay, I stepped into my room, changed into my evening robes, and settled into my hammock. Almost instantly, exhaustion swept over me, and I closed my eyes.

It was tomorrow when things would change… 

Unfortunately, for the worse.

----------

I woke the next morning to a heavy banging on my door, which startled me out of my hammock and onto the hard tile floor. Just who was that, and why were they so loud??

My question was answered as the door swung open, and Chambersite’s leering face looked down at me. 

“What are ya doin’ on the floor?” He snapped. “Get up and get dressed, it’s time to get to work!”

“Y-Yes sir.” I managed, hurrying to my dresser as he closed the door to wait for me outside. Oh, I must have overslept! As Lord Verchiel always said, maintaining a proper schedule was important.

Once I had a fresh change of clothes on, I stepped outside, almost bumping right into Chambersite, who had barely stepped away from my door. He snorted as he stared down at me, but shoved something in my hands before turning around and walking down the hall.

“Eat, and let’s get to the battlegrounds.” 

I stumbled to keep pace with him for a moment before looking down at what he had given me: A small pouch of mixed fish and cauliflower. 

“Oh…” I mumbled, my beak twitching a bit. “Um, I don’t actually like--”

“Yer not gonna to get the luxury to be picky out on crusades, ya know.” He snorted, not even turning back to look at me. “‘Sides, it’s good for you.”

Good for me. Right. I couldn’t argue with that, really. I needed to be healthy and strong if I were to fight in Lord Verchiel’s name, so even if I didn’t like it, I just had to endure.

“Where is everyone else?” I couldn’t help but ask between bites that almost made me gag. “It’s so quiet…”

“That’s ‘cause it’s 5 AM.” 

5 AM? But then that would mean I had only slept for… W-Why was I up so early???

“Lord Verchiel delegated the responsibility of yer training to me.” He continued, now glancing back and taking note of my confusion. “So I decide yer schedule, and you follow along. Got it?”

Ah. Right. Lord Verchiel had said as much last night, I remembered now. Whatever Lord Verchiel said goes, and Lord Verchiel had essentially said whatever Chambersite says goes. Chambersite was my elder, after all, so what point was there in objecting to him?

I finished my food and disposed of the pouch as we passed a waste bin. We were almost to the far side of the temple’s interior, and I could see Chambersite heading to the doors that led outside.

The battlegrounds weren’t used too often, from what I could recall. Lord Verchiel didn’t have many acolytes skilled in combat, and Xe detested having to fight. 

So when we stepped onto the clear space, a circular field cleared of debris so only fine sand shifted under our feet, it felt… Strangely cold. Not cold in terms of temperature, but just that… Without regular activity, the space didn’t feel as inviting as others.

Chambersite either didn’t notice or chose to ignore my hesitance, walking to a small shed that stood next to the temple wall. He took out two long wooden poles and unceremoniously tossed one to me. 

“We’ll use these until you can handle an actual weapon.”

Though I tried my best to catch it, I hadn’t been prepared, so it flipped between my hands for a moment before hitting the ground with a sad thump. I heard Chambersite grunt something as I bent down to pick it up, but my embarrassment made it hard for me to realize what it was.

“Yer pathetic.” He scoffed as I made my way to him on the field. “But that’s what training is for.”

He gestured for me to take a few steps back, then adjusted his stance so he looked ready to fight. He looked at me expectantly, but something bothered me…

“Um… What about your jewelry?” I asked, gesturing to the various loops and chains that adorned his neck and arms. “W-Won’t they get caught on something?”

Chambersite snarled, gripping his weapon tighter.

“This jewelry came from Lord Verchiel Himself! It is a sacred gift! To take it off would be an insult to Him!”

Ah… Why didn’t I realize that? Everyone else in the temple had various forms of jewelry and piercings, so it had to have been part of the upper ranks of the order. 

“Do well enough, and you’ll get your own, eventually.” Chambersite continued, gesturing for me to make a move. “But that’s dependent on you. ”

I froze up when he said this. Me, get my own jewelry? My own adornments? Well, such a thing would have certainly been a honor, but… How come the idea of that scared me? It was a blessing from Lord Verchiel, so it was good. And yet… The idea of going around covered in shiny metal and gems did not sit well with me…

Oh, enough with the worrying! I was just nervous, that was all! Nervousness at new things was perfectly normal, and I’m sure in time, I would warm up to the idea. Besides, it wasn’t like it was going to happen any time soon.

Lord Verchiel knew best.

“C’mon, kid, let’s just get this shit over with.” Chambersite barked, pulling me from my train of thought once more. 

With a quick nod, I brandished the pole I had been given and ran towards him--like I had read about in books! Brave warriors charging headfirst into battle to slay their foes, yeah!

I was gonna smack Chambersite in his ridiculous face, and he wouldn’t be able to get upset because it was part of training and--

DONK.

The next thing I knew, I was on the ground, in a crumpled pile with my face being poked by my own weapon. Chambersite had swept his pole under my legs, sending me falling and causing me to bonk myself in the face. 

“What a great start.” He grumbled as I pulled myself up. 

I brushed the sand off my front and rubbed at where I had hit myself. It didn’t hurt too much, thankfully, but it was still embarrassing to have done that. Ripples of pink and red flashed across my face, displaying the shame I was trying to keep quiet for all to see.

“C’mon, back to it.” He ordered, readying his stance again. “Crusaders don’t get time to cry.”

Had I looked ready to? Oh dear… 

“Um… Do you think you could actually… Show me some moves?” I suggested between slow breaths--A technique one of my dads had taught me for whenever I felt overwhelmed. “It would help if I knew what to actually do, rather than charge straight ahead…”

“You learn by doing. ” Was all Chambersite growled in response, before gesturing again for me to move.

Well, I couldn’t see any issues with that, really. If I kept at it, I would learn where I was making mistakes, and then correct myself.

As worried as I had been when starting this training, it started to ease up a little bit. Sure, Chambersite was a bit rough around the edges, and probably wasn’t very happy he hadn’t been the one chosen, but he was taking the time to teach me. That was actually pretty nice of him.

We continued to train, with me charging at him from various angles and him continuously parrying my strikes, sending me tumbling over. It wasn’t long before my robes were a mess of sand and shell fragments, and I could feel a distinct soreness in my arms.

I didn’t really know how long we had been going on like this, but after I had fallen for the some-dozenth time, I found it hard to get up again.

“Again.” Chambersite ordered, as he had taken to between the bouts. He hadn’t been hit once, and stood as imposing as ever.

“I… I’m starting to get tired, Chambersite, sir.” I mumbled, only managing to bring myself to my knees. “Could we take a break?”

“No.” He answered simply. “There’s no breaks when yer fighting for real.”

Well, of course, I knew that, and he was right, but… This wasn’t real. So couldn’t I catch my breath for just a little bit?

“I don’t think a little rest would hurt…” I said, but the shift in his eyes made me regret speaking.

“You think you know better than me, then?” He growled, taking a stomping step closer to me.

“N-No!” I insisted, shaking my head. “I’m tired, is all!”

“You keep going anyway.” He said as he stood over me. Without warning, he grabbed my arm, and tried to pull me up to my feet.

It hurt. His grip was hard and rigid, and he pulled me in a manner that was far from careful. It let out a yelp from the pain, and buckled back down to the ground. Chambersite didn’t let go, however, and stood over me while I tried to pull my arm away.

“Get. Up.”

“I can’t.”

“You’re just not trying hard enough. GET UP.”

I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t want to get up, especially with Chambersite so angry now. But if I stayed on the ground, he would surely get even angrier. Oh no… Oh no, oh no, oh no…

“What’s going on out here?”

That voice--Lord Verchiel!

I raised my head, seeing Lord Verchiel poking Xer head out of the doorway and looking at us with a curious expression. After a moment, Xe stepped fully outside, Xer robes of the day a luminous shade of blue-green. 

“Apologies, My Lord.” Chambersite sighed, letting go of my arm. “Just havin’ some difficulties with trainin’.”

“On the first day?” Lord Verchiel asked in a disbelieving tone, widened eyes flicking to me. “Opal, dear, what’s the matter? Why are you making things so difficult for Chambersite?”

“I… Um… Well…” I stammered, trying to get the words out, but Lord Verchiel’s gaze made them catch in my throat. 

Part of me had hoped Xe would say something to Chambersite--That he was being to harsh or rough or that he shouldn’t have grabbed me like that. But Xe didn’t. So I was at a loss.

“He says he’s tired.” Chambersite then explained, making me shrink into my shoulders.

“Then why not let him rest?” Lord Verchiel asked, now looking to Chambersite. “Hard work is one thing, Chambersite, but surely you don’t intend to shatter my little Opal, do you?”

At these words, my heart soared. So Xe wasn't just going to let Chambersite get away with it! Truly, Lord Verchiel was a benevolent bishop, caring for all who served under Xem. Why did I ever have any doubts? It disgusted me to realize I had even considered Lord Verchiel would just sit by and let something like this happen.

Chambersite was quiet for a moment, glancing down at me. Lord Verchiel’s words seem to have gotten to him, because his jaw was visibly tight now.

“He won’t get better unless he keeps at it, My Lord.”

“It’s not a race.”

“But, My Lord, the other bishops’ll surely--”

“Don’t! Remind me! Of the other bishops on temple grounds. I admire your dedication to pleasing me, Chambersite, but a stone is polished with patience. He is a little gem to be buffed steadily, not a disgusting geode you smash with the first hammer you have available.”

Chambersite did not speak for a long while again, and then offered his hand to me. After a pause, being confused by this gesture, I took it, and he helped me to my feet properly this time.

“Forgive me, My Lord.” He said in a low voice.

“Now, I think I will take Opal with me for a bit to have lunch. You, meanwhile, can take some time to visit with Lazuli and see how her current sculpture is coming along. Is that alright?” Lord Verchiel asked.

“Of course, My Lord.”

“Come along, Opal!” Lord Verchiel said, turning around so fast Xer tailfeathers almost smacked me and Chambersite. I wasted no time hurrying after Xem, but when I turned to close the door behind us, I couldn’t help but lock eyes with Chambersite as he remained where he was on the field.

His eyes were cold and hard, staring at me intently with a rage I had never seen before.

“I do hope Chambersite wasn’t too harsh.” Lord Verchiel called, prompting me to finally close the door and rush to catch up with Xem. “He can be quite a mean individual if not kept in line.”

“Um, well, it was rough, but… I think I still learned a lot.” I admitted, rubbing at my still-sore arm. “I can’t wait to get better.”

“In time, in time.” Lord Verchiel said. “But that aside, there is another reason I wanted to get you alone. It’s about your family. I meant to mention it yesterday, but then the summons for Raziel threw everything out of order, and I forgot!”

Huh? My family?

“A-Are they alright?” I couldn’t help but ask. 

My family--My three moms, two dads, and literal dozens of siblings--they were all important to me. I had been staying at the temple for some time now, but every few weeks I had been allowed to go and visit them for a while. The last time I had seen them had been the day before yesterday, and everything had seemed fine then, so… Had something come up?

“Yes, yes, they’re all okay.” Xe said with a wave of Xer wing. “But I’m afraid that, if you are to start your training full-swing, then I can no longer allow you to visit them. You need to stay here, in the temple.”

What? Stay… In the temple? 

“But… Wh… Why?” I said, voice trembling with surprise. My stomach started twisting, but at the time I had chalked it up to not liking the disgusting breakfast Chambersite had given me.

“You need to stay focused, my dear.” Xe explained simply. “We can’t have you getting soft by taking breaks just to see somebody. I’m not saying you can’t contact them at all, no-no, weren’t you also sending them letters? It’s just that we cannot spend time and resources escorting you to and fro so much anymore.”

“Oh…” 

Just as quickly as my heart had soared at Lord Verchiel's rescue, it began to plummet at this news. My family had been so proud of me, being selected as Lord Verchiel's disciple. They had become the talk of my hometown, and business at the restaurant had been picking up, all because they could claim that Lord Verchiel's disciple came from their family. I was so happy to see things improve, little by little, each time I went to visit. And now...

“Opal, dear, whatever is the matter?” Xe asked, turning back to look at me with a slight frown. “Surely you would have expected something like this, yes?”

“I mean… I suppose… Especially since I live here now, but… But… I don’t know…”

Tears started to well in my eyes, and before I could stop myself, a few light sobs escaped me. Oh, how embarrassing it was, to be crying in front of My Lord! Especially since, like Xe had said, it was an improper use of resources, anyway. I shouldn’t be so selfish!

So then… Why did this hurt so?

“I’m… I’m sa-sad, though.” I explained. “I do-don’t know w-w-why. I understand why it… It can’t… But I’m.. I’m still--”

“My dear…” Lord Verchiel now turned around completely, kneeling so that Xe was eye-level with me. It was such a kind gesture, considering Xer status… 

Xe gently took my face in the tips of Xer wings, lifting my head up so I could see Xer kind smile.

“What do we always say in times like this?”

“Lord Verchiel… Knows best.” I managed between hiccups. 

“That’s right. The harsh training, the distance from your family--It may be painful now, but trust me… This will be better for you in the long run. Now, how about we go get something to eat, hm?”

I nodded, and Lord Verchiel stood up, turning and leading me off down the hall. I resumed walking as well, silently rubbing at my tears with the sleeve of my robe.

My family would be fine. I just couldn't see them in person anymore. But it was all for the sake of my training, so as not to be a burden on the temple.

As I followed after Xem, I repeated that phrase in my head so I would be sure not to forget it.

Lord Verchiel knows best.

Lord Verchiel knows best.

Lord Verchiel knows best.

[justalittleconfusing]

I take personal offense to all the hate Taylor is getting and I have no where to spew this so here goes un edited.

1) she is not political enough post Ms America documentary.

Response: this woman performed soon you get better during CoVID. She cast a trans Man as her love interest in the track one music video of midnights!!! She donates time and money to causes (with and without publicity). She is political through her ACTIONS not tweets.

2) she is too successful to be hinder being a white woman

Response: this one is hard for me. I am a successful white woman. I was actively hindered. I didn’t know I was good at math (as someone with an advanced degree and 15+ year career in data analytics AND IS AN MBA PROFESSOR TEACHING DATA) until I was 37. Let that sink in. My entire 1990s-2000s existences so much of my life models were ditzy girls who were hot or brainy nerds who had no social interaction skills and nothing in between. For every Elle Woods we had the American Pie franchise. We were told we had to “have it all” with no road map how to be the manic pixie dream girl, size zero, interesting but not intimidating, play in your space but never the men’s space, mother and counselor while never admitting our pain and every other version we are trapped in.

The deck is stacked. We can be ahead of the curve and then the curve suddenly becomes a sphere. And she gives us space to figure out how to do and create for ourselves and not just others.

3) she only talks about her exes and makes her money off tarnishing others reputations

Response: people hurt people. Women of my age don’t always have permission from society to acknowledge that hurt. Those of us who are the “pathological people pleasers” those of us who have conditions on being loved with how we act, what we produce, what we give others. We don’t have much of a voice. Why is Taylor so popular for me? Because she tells me being alone isn’t the worst thing in the world. Being “on your own kid” and making mistakes that make people leave you, you can still be true to yourself.

Also, her obsession with girlhood. How many of us grew up during the purity ring craze. Where exploring our sexuality and urges was just for men. Where we were madonnas or whores. Where men had to “trick us” into engaging in sex and if we wanted it we were objects to be used.

Give me back my girlhood. This idea is innocence and being unclean. Surviving sexual assault and recovering what love looks like after. Women our age didn’t grow up with the idea we don’t have to consent. And if we don’t consent and things happen that is sexual assault. We didn’t have words to put the feelings of being gaslit or abused in place. Taylor gives us that vocabulary. She teaches us to explore the feelings of being hurt and how to heal. She teaches us to feel wide ranges of emotions and say what those feelings are. And it’s ok. Sadness and Joy can be friends.

Overall feelings synopsis: sometimes, we forget, that white women of a certain age, while we do have a lot of privilege, we still have societal expectations stacked against us. A Karen had morphed from being a racist woman who uses white privilege to call the police to hurt people of color to a woman my age who has blonde shorter hair who is annoying to men. We are belittled for feelings beyond being happy. We get mansplained when we try to say we are angry, disappointed, hurt, violated, so many more feelings!

Taylor represents us. She represents our glitter and fountain pens. Our love of frivolous and deep pain. We can embrace all facets of ourselves and still be brilliant minds.

I adore her and am eternally grateful for every word she has written, sung, advocated for, and performed. She taught me to accept myself, advocate, pursue a sexual assault case, USE MY VOICE.

Also, as a sexual assault survivor, watching half the country elevate people like Kavanaugh and Trump. She is my hope.

To Taylor!