#maybe the world is over or something

[thatone-ranboofan996]

Must Be Something In The Water - Smile 2 Alternate Ending/Continuation

Chapter 2

Everything felt… foggy.

Like floating in an endless abyss of nothingness.

Everything felt overwhelming. Like the nothingness that surrounded her was beginning to consume her from the inside out. She could feel herself wasting away, becoming one with the universe all over again.

And you know what? That was okay, she found.

Nothing was better than everything. She had gone through so much in her final days, and she was quite frankly looking forward to finally escaping the pain and suffering.

And then…. Out of the nothingness came….

…something.

A pinprick of light at the edge of her vision, as if the darkness was only a sheet of paper, and had been stabbed by a sewing needle.

She reached for that light, letting it grow and swallow her.

For a moment, (or maybe it had been a while???) All she could feel was the feeling of cool air blowing against her skin, and the sounds of machines beeping all around her.

She slowly, and groggily regained consciousness, trying and failing to remember anything and everything that had taken place. Where she was. How she’d managed to get here.

The room had gone silent, she noticed first. That was odd. That monotonous beeping had been nice.

She felt her eyes flutter open, still blurry with sleep, and …. For some reason, her right eye was dark. As if something was blocking her vision.

She slowly lifted her fingertips towards her face, her arm trembling with the insane amount of effort it took to raise her arm at all. Her hand found soft cotton surrounding that half of her face. Had something happened to her eye???

She found, to her own dismay, she couldn’t recall. She couldn’t remember a lot, actually. What had happened. Who she was.

That one frightened her a little bit.

She couldn’t even recall her own name. She couldn’t recall… anyone’s name. She could remember vague faces and voices, but…. None of them had a name attached to their face.

She looked around, trying to make her eyes regain focus. The room was mostly dark, all aside from the light filtering in through the window nearby.

Once again, she realized that the room was dead silent, and horribly still. Was she in the hospital?? It almost seemed to be too quiet to be a hospital at all.

She opened her mouth and sucked in a breath, feeling her heart beginning to race as more and more questions without answers bubbled up.

She attempted to speak, and found that her throat was incredibly dry, her voice coming out cracked and inaudible. She hoarsely coughed, and tried clearing her throat.

“H-hello??” She croaked, hearing her own voice leaving her mouth and sounding so unlike her. She looked around the room again, and saw absolutely no movement. Heard no movement whatsoever. “Hello??? Someone help…” she whispered into the dark calm of the room, and was once again met with silence.

All at once, she realized that she was incredibly thirsty. She felt as though she hadn’t drank anything for days.

Her eyes darted to her bedside table, finding several vases of slightly wilted flowers and multiple cards, boxes, clothes… just a whole lot of nothing helpful. She found herself wincing, a pain beginning to flare up in her face and lower back.

Oh jeez. She couldn’t remember much from before, but she could definitely remember that back pain.

“…Doctor?” She called out, her rasping voice still barely breaching a whisper. “Nurse?… Anyone??” She breathed slowly, not understanding how she could be waking up like this and not have doctors and nurses surrounding her like vultures.

Why was that though??

She glanced over to the upper panel of her bed, and noticed the buttons to adjust her bed, as well as a big red button labeled “CALL”. She raised a shaking hand up and pressed the button, expecting a beep, a crackle of static from the speaker, anything. She was only met with silence. How odd. She pressed the button a few more times, listening closely to see if it was working. Silence was the only sound that greeted her.

She rolled her eyes in annoyance, feeling a little flare of frustration rise up inside her. Those damn call buttons were literally there to save lives, and it just so happens that she got the one that didn’t work. Fantastic.

Her eyes were drawn back to the vase of flowers, more importantly, the water that the flowers were sitting in.

Her stomach churned at the sight of the water, and suddenly it didn’t seem to be such a big deal that she was in pain or that the doctors weren’t immediately at her bedside, because all she cared about was the fact that she needed water. Asap.

She reached her trembling arm out towards the vase, and found that lifting just the weight of her arm felt like an impossible task. She strained, trying to scoot over just enough that she could bat at the vase with her fingertips. She was finally able to get a slight grip on the vase and she dragged it closer, her hands reaching up towards the flowers she didn’t give a shit about, and tossing them to the floor.

She reached her other arm out, and carefully took the vase into her hands. Her arms shook with the effort it took to keep the vase held up, and after what felt like eternity, she was able to set the vase into her lap.

She felt a little grossed out at the thought of drinking from a dirty vase, but another part of her couldn’t make herself care enough to not get a drink.

Bringing the vase to her lips with trembling hands, she took a long drink of the water, and immediately felt her mouth and throat cool down. It was glorious, and the taste was unlike anything she had ever experienced. She didn’t really have time to taste it much before she was chugging the entire vase of water, ignoring the splashes that ran down her chin and onto the sheets and blankets.

She made it about ½ way through the water when a thought struck her, almost making her drop the vase on accident.

Her mother wasn’t here.

The memory of her mom startled her, and she found herself pulling the vase away from her mouth and sucking in a nervous breath.

Her eyes scanned the room again, this time in search of her mom. The room was still silent. Still empty.

She was still alone.

She had been angry with her mom, she slowly began to remember. She had yelled at her about something, and then her mom had screamed back at her. And then….

She glanced up to the wall, and found a mirror hanging on the opposite wall from her. In the mirror, she was able to see her own reflection staring back at her, and she was taken aback.

Her face was wrapped in a white cloth that was completely covering the entire right side of her face. She had a substantial amount of bruising around her usable eye and her nose, painting her skin in deep shades of black, blue and purple. Her hair was a tousled mess, and she looked as though she had not eaten anything in ages.

She looked frail. Weak.

She exhaled slowly, feeling her own breath shaking with her as things began to piece together.

Her name was Skye. She was a famous singer. And…something bad happened to her. A lot of bad things had happened to her, but something worse happened to her.

She vaguely remembered standing up on a stage, and seeing thousands of eyes gazing back at her from the darkness, lights from above completely blinding her. She remembered being terrified.

Suddenly, and all at once, her stomach did a flip and she fell forwards, hanging her head over the edge of the bed and vomiting up all the water she had just drank. Skye gagged harshly, until nothing came up again. She reasoned that maybe she shouldn’t have drank all that water so fast.

The adrenaline shock seemed to sharpen her mind, and she realized that usually a doctor would’ve come to check on her by now, if this was just a typical hospital. But no one had come yet… and now that she thought about it, since when were hospitals ever this silent?

Her gaze turned towards the door nearby, and she noticed that the door was closed and locked completely.

Skye furrowed her brows in confusion. Why would the doctors lock her in her room?

She suddenly felt a strong urge to get up out of bed and go looking around for someone.

She glanced down at her left arm, finding tubes and needles poked into her skin, covered up with clear medical tape.

She reached for the tubes and tried to gingerly tug them free from her skin, but she was immediately met with a flash of pain when trying to pull on them. She grimaced, instead moving to peel the tape away instead.

That worked better, and she was able to quickly free herself from the tubes and needles. She tossed them down to the side of her bed and scrunched her nose in disgust when blood began to seep out of the holes they had left behind in her skin.

Skye slowly moved to swing her legs off the edge of the bed, and found that it took a lot of her strength and concentration to make her body work and coordinate with her mind. She sat there for a moment, shivering at the sudden cold, not being covered by her blankets any longer. It was freezing, and the hospital gown that she had wrapped loosely around her body was not nearly enough to keep her warm.

She shivered uneasily, exhaling slowly. A small puff of mist escaped her mouth.

Okay. That was weird. Hospitals definitely shouldn’t be cold enough that the patients can see their own breath.

Skye shivered, reaching forwards and pulling a folded up hoodie off of her nightstand and slowly pulling it on over her head. The black fabric was soft, and still completely untouched. It was one of the hoodies she had released the last time she went on tour, and had an embarrassingly large image of her own face printed on the front, her name trailing down the left sleeve in a loopy cursive font.

Without a second thought, she carefully pushed herself off the bed and climbed to her feet, her knees trembling under her weight, and her leg muscles immediately threatening to give out under her. She inhaled shakily, before quietly letting it out and taking a step. The moment her leg lifted off the ground, she lost her balance and fell backwards, stumbling into the hospital bed directly behind her.

The smooth plastic railing dug into her spine, and instantly sent shots of pain through her like red fireworks. She grabbed the edge of the bed with all her strength, biting back a scream of pain, and trying to force her leg muscles to work.

Finally, after what felt like forever, her legs had stopped shaking so harshly, and she felt as though she was now able to stand on her own without her muscles betraying her.

She stood still for a moment, still shakily trying to breathe and regain her composure again. Her back was still throbbing angrily, but she figured since it was just a small bump she probably would be okay for the time being.

She gingerly snaked her fingers back behind her back and pressed against the sore spot, feeling the familiar ridge of her surgery scar. She massaged small circles into her muscles, trying to keep herself calm while she tried to alleviate the pain.

It didn’t take long before her back released a bit of its tension, her muscles warmed up and ready to move again.

She exhaled slowly, turning to look around her room now that she was up on her feet.

As she suspected, she was most certainly in a small hospital room. The only odd thing about it… well, all the lights and machines in the room were off. Even the heart monitor that she had been hooked up to was silent, its screen dark.

She swallowed, a nervous feeling beginning to rise up. She held onto the railing of her hospital bed once again, and carefully lifted her foot up, the muscles in her other leg still trembling weakly, but managing to keep her supported. She tried the other leg, and had a similar result.

She supposed she would probably be okay as long as she was careful. She just needed to step out of her room and flag down a nurse.

She took a wobbling step forwards, taking her hand off of the bed and praying that she was able to stay upright.

Her head was really beginning to bother her, and her eye throbbed painfully with every heartbeat. She really hoped she could find a nurse soon. Fuck, some Vicodin would be phenomenal right now. That thought irked a little bit of irritation in her, realizing the likelihood of the doctors prescribing it to her was extremely slim.

She took a couple more steps, being careful to stay upright and balanced, and finally, she was able to press her shoulder against the wall again. At least she had something to keep her standing, even if she lost her footing.

She lifted an arm, already beginning to feel the exhaustion setting in just from walking over here. She really wished she could sit back down for a moment, but she also really needed to have a nurse come in and speak with her. She still was having trouble remembering what happened and just how exactly she had gotten here.

She reached forward and pushed the door latch open, and then unlocked the door handle. She breathed slowly, trying to keep her body moving. The last thing she needed to do was have a fall right now.

She pushed the door handle down and took a few steps forward, peeking out the door.

Her heart sank.

The hallway was almost completely pitch black, and there were only 2 of the overhead fluorescent lights illuminated down towards the end of the hall. In the dim light, she could see the faint outlines of runaway gurneys littering the halls, papers covering every surface, and (though she may have just imagined it) she could’ve sworn she saw the still form of a person down at the end of the hall, lying completely still.

She felt herself immediately tense up, her breath catching in her throat. She took a small step back, letting the door slowly swing closed.

She inhaled slowly, her interest in going searching for a doctor vanishing in an instant.

Her heart had already begun to hammer frantically in her chest, her muscles instinctively beginning to tremble with the beginnings of an adrenaline rush.

Oh god, something bad must be happening. Something really bad by the looks of it. How long had she been asleep for?? Where was everyone, and why had she been left here??

With panic beginning to course through her veins, she twisted the locks on her door closed once again and pushed the door stopper down. She took a few more steps away from the door, her mind beginning to flutter nervously with anxious thoughts. Why was she here?? What had happened?? Where were her friends and family? Where was her mom?

She let her fingers tangle into her hair, the nerves already overwhelming her, and she harshly tugged at her scalp in an attempt to make herself calm down. The longer she kept her hair clutched in her fist, the more it pulled her scalp until finally, several strands ripped free into her palms.

She felt herself take a deep breath in, letting the hair free from her hands and turning back towards her room.

There, on her nightstand, was her saving grace.

Her phone.

Instantly, her mind brightened at the thought. She could call the police. She could call her mom and ask her to pick her up. She could call Gemma-

Her mind nearly did a barrel roll at the memory of her lifelong friend’s name. Her old ride or die. The friend that insisted that she would stay with her through everything.

But she hadn’t, had she?

No. She had left when things got rough. When the drugs became an issue.

After Paul.

The crash.

Rehab, recovery, the tour, meet and greets, photo shoots, dress rehearsals, Lewis-

Her mind stopped on that memory, and it all was starting to come back to her. All the weird-ass behavior. The screaming. The crunching on bone and flesh against solid steel. The smile.

She outstretched her hand, bracing herself against the wall as her stomach did another somersault, and she instinctively leaned forward, attempting to throw something up that wasn’t there.

The smiles… they had been the problem. They were the things that had been chasing her, haunting her, hurting her. Using her mind like a weapon against herself. She remembered feeling as though she was going insane, like she had no control over anything that happened around or to her. Feeling less like a person and more like a puppet on a string, being yanked about for others entertainment.

For IT’s entertainment.

Another wave of nausea rolled over her as she explicitly remembered the way that awful….thing had looked at her. It looked so excited. So gleeful about her terror and pain. It’s eyes she remembered best of all. Those horrible bloodshot eyes, so swollen they looked ready to burst like overripe fruit left to rot.

The sounds of her jaw breaking inside her own head, as it tore her apart from the inside out.

That memory above all the others, made her physically cringe, her hands reaching up to grab at her face, just to satisfy her own mind that she did not, in fact, have her head split open like a watermelon.

That image made her feel even sicker.

She needed to stop thinking about this shit right now. There was a time and a place, and right now was not it.

She shambled back towards her bedside, her legs feeling stronger and stronger after each passing moment. Her hands found their way around her phone, unplugging it from the charger and clicking the power on. Her battery percentage was at 8 percent, it seemed the phone had never charged at all in the first place.

The date was November 25th, 2024.

The last point in which she could remember had been the launch day for her tour, which had been on October 18th.

She had been asleep for over a month.

[goodluckclove]

hi it's me. "telling" in writing is sometimes fine. if you think a scene is better served by summarizing a character's reaction in plain, direct language, that's a thing you're allowed to do. you could consider elaborating from that direct language and using that to "show".

but like "show, don't tell" is absolutely not always the case unless you really want to buff out your word count. i had a writer early on quote "show, don't tell" to me when i showed her a scene that included what was essentially a set-piece character i described as a "sleepy-eyed dancer". she wanted me to spend time describing this character's exhaustion instead of just directly saying it. This dancer - who is referenced once in the initial description of a setting and never, ever shows up again.

that was probably the day i learned that you can hear writing advice and respond politely but quietly think "mm no". you can also do this.

(feel free to fight me in the comments but know that i despise catchy and generalized writing advice like this and the way it can hinder new writers when stated with no room for exploration. and i will die on this hill. i am not normal about this)

[uncanny-tranny]

I think it would really benefit people to internalize that mental illnesses are often chronic and not acute. Some of us will never be able to jump the hurdle of managing illness, much less sustaining a sense of normalcy. Many of us will never "recover," will never manage symptoms, will never even come close to appearing normal - and this is for any condition, even the ones labeled as "simple" disorders or "easy-to-manage" disorders.

It isn't a failure if you cannot manage your symptoms. It isn't a moral failure, and you aren't an awful person. You are human. There's only so much you can do before recognizing that you cannot lift the world. Give yourself the space to be ill because, functionally, you are.

[corvuskidd]

me: noooo! i will always side with the good guys! i wanna daydream about being besties w the autobots and hanging out at the base :)

that evil worm infecting my brain: but like… imagine being the cons’ favorite little pet around the nemesis…. like you always have to be on someone’s shoulder keeping them company bc the cons don’t care to watch where they step

or helping knockout fit in better by giving his vehicle mode a “driver” so he can race more often, or even just having to third wheel with kobd like yes pls

or secretly having wavewave wrapped around your finger bc they’re both big scary mechs who don’t care much for emotions but come on… you’re just so little and eager to help… it’s so charming…

starscream and megatron acting like they could care less about you and just using you to get back at the other somehow, but like… cmon they love having you around, you’re loyal as a dog to them, it fuels their egos a little too much LMAO

yeah the brainrot’s hitting a little too hard rn

[ovrrdogg]

Hfjone au where instead of kidnapping people for his reality show he accidentally discovers twitch and starts a stream and becomes the most popular twitch streamer ever. People love tuning in to watch forest man and his wacky antics. They love the “larp.” Twitch keeps trying to get him to come to cons he can never attend. People make wildly popular edits and gifs of him to share on stan twitter.

Instead of getting people to entertain him, he works to entertain people.

[fireflysugarpie]

cumplane au but they both keep accidentally dom-ing each other

[taradactyls]

So I could be totally wrong but, I believe it was sort of expected that men/gentlemen lose their virginity before marriage in regency times. But I also there’s some fandom ‘debate’ about whether or not Mr Darcy would’ve had sex before getting married. So I was just curious about what your canon for Mr Darcy in T3W is. Is he a virgin or not?

I knew someone would ask me this eventually, haha. I've actually had really long conversations with my beta reader about this trying to figure it out. It sounds like this might all be stuff that you’ve already seen discussed in the fandom, but I’ve never thought about it deeply before and so these are new thoughts to me.

I keep going over the historical real-world likelihood, the authorial intent, and the text itself but I’m still not 100%. I’ll explain my thinking and what I find most likely, but here’s your warning that it’s not a clear cut yes/no.

Because on one hand, at that time period it was most common for men in his position to have seen sex workers or have casual encounters/mistresses with women from their estates. Though I do absolutely believe not all men did that, no matter how much wealth and power they had. To go back some centuries, William the Conqueror seemed to be famously celibate (no hints of male lovers either according to the biography I read) until his marriage, and there's no evidence of affairs after it either. The best guesses as to why are that it was due to his religious devotion and the problems that had arisen from himself being a bastard and not wanting to recreate that situation. Concerns over religion and illegitimate children would certainly still have been applicable in the regency to men who thought that way. And in modern times I've seen sex workers say that when an 18/21yo is booked in by his family/friends to 'become a man' often they end up just talking and agree to lie about the encounter. After all, it’s not like every man wants casual sex, even if they aren’t demisexual or something in that vein. But, statistically speaking, the precedent of regency gentlemen would make Darcy not a virgin.

On the other hand, just how aware was Jane Austen, the very religious daughter of a country rector, of the commonness of this? There’s a huge difference between knowing affairs and sex workers existed (and no one who had seen a Georgian newspaper could be blind to this) and realising that the majority of wealthy men saw sex workers at some point even if they condemned the more public and profligate affairs. The literature for young ladies at the time paints extramarital sex - including the lust of men outside of marriage - as pretty universally bad and dangerous. This message is seen from 'Pamela' and other gothic fiction to non-fiction conduct books which Jane Austen would have encountered. Here's something I found in 'Letters to a Young Lady' by the reverend John Bennett which I found particularly interesting as it's in direct conversation with other opinions of the era:

"A reformed rake makes the best husband." Does he? It would be very extraordinary, if he should. Besides, are you very certain, that you have power to reform him? It is a matter, that requires some deliberation. This reformation, if it is to be accomplished, must take place before marriage. Then if ever, is the period of your power. But how will you be assured that he is reformed? If he appears so, is he not insidiously concealing his vices, to gain your affections? And when he knows, they are secured, may he not, gradually, throw off the mask, and be dissipated, as before? Profligacy of this kind is seldom eradicated. It resembles some cutaneous disorders, which appear to be healed, and yet are, continually, making themselves visible by fresh eruptions. A man, who has carried on a criminal intercourse with immoral women is not to be trusted, His opinion of all females is an insult to their delicacy. His attachment is to sex alone, under particular modifications.

The definition of a rake is more than a man who has seen a sex worker once, it's about appearance and general conduct too, but again, would that distinction be made to young ladies? Because they seem to simply be continuously taught 'lust when unmarried is bad and beware men who you know engage in extramarital sex.' As a side note, Jane Austen certainly knew at least something about the mechanics of sex: her letters and literature she read alludes to it, and she grew up around farm animals in the countryside which is an education in itself.

We can also see from this exert that the school of thought seems to be 'reformed rake' vs 'never a rake' in contention for the title of best husband, there's no debate over whether a current rake is unsuitable for a young lady. And, from Willoughby to Wickham to Crawford, I think we have a very clear idea of Jane Austen's ideas of how likely it is notably promiscuous men can reform. This does not preclude the possibility that her disparaging commentary around their lust is based more on over-indulgence or the class of women they seduce, but it's undoubtedly a condemnation of such men directly in line with the first part of what John Bennett says so it's no stretch to believe she saw merit in the follow-on conclusions of the second part as well. Whether she would view it with enough merit to consider celibacy the only respectable option for unmarried men is a bit unclearer.

I did consider that perhaps Jane Austen consciously treated this as a grey area where she couldn’t possibly know what young men did (the same reasoning is why we never see the men in the dining room after the ladies retire, etc) and so didn't hold an opinion on men's extramarital encounters with sex workers/lower-class women at all, but I think there actually are enough hints in her works that this isn’t the case. Though, unsurprisingly, given the delicacy of the subject, there’s no direct mention of sex workers or gentlemen having casual lovers from among the lower-classes in her texts.

That also prevents us from definitively knowing whether she thought extramarital sex was so common, and as unremarkable, as most gentlemen treated it. But we do see from her commentary around the consequences of Maria Bertram and Henry Crawford's elopement that she had criticism of the double standards men and women were held to when violating sexual virtue. Another indication that she perhaps expected good men to be capable of waiting until marriage in the way that she very clearly believed women should. At the very least, a man who often indulges in extramarital sex does not seem to be one who would be considered highly by Jane Austen.

She makes a point of saying, in regards to not liking his wife, that Mr Bennet “was not of a disposition to seek comfort for the disappointment which his own imprudence had brought on, in any of those pleasures which too often console the unfortunate for their folly or their vice.” This must include affairs, though cheating on a wife cannot be a 1:1 equivalent of single young men sleeping around before marriage. However, the latter is generally critically accepted to be one of the flaws that Darcy lays at Wickham’s door along with gambling when talking about their youth and his “vicious propensities" and "want of principle." Though this could be argued that it’s more the extent or publicity of it (but remembering that it couldn't be anything uncommon enough that it couldn't be hidden from Darcy Sr. or explained away) rather than the act itself, or maybe seductions instead of paying women offering those services. I also believe Persuasion mentioning Sunday travelling as proof of thoughtless/immoral activity supports the idea that Jane Austen might have been religious enough that she would never create a hero who had extramarital sex.

So, taken all together this would make Darcy potentially a virgin, or, since I couldn't find absolute evidence of her opinions, leave enough room that he isn’t but extramarital sex isn’t a regular (or perhaps recent) thing and he would never have had anything so established as a mistress.

I’ve also been wondering, if Darcy isn’t a virgin, who would he have slept with? I’ve been musing on arguments for and against each option for weeks at this point. No romantasy has ever made me think about a fictional man's sexual habits so much as the question of Darcy's sexual history. What is my life.

Sex workers are an obvious answer, and the visits wouldn’t have raised any eyebrows. Discretion was part of their job, it was a clean transaction with no further responsibilities towards them, and effective (and reusable, ew) condoms existed at this time so there was little risk of children and no ability to exactly determine the paternity even if there was an accident. It was a fairly ‘responsible’ choice if one wanted no strings attached. In opposition to this, syphilis was rampant at the time, and had been known to spread sexually for centuries. Sex workers were at greater risk of it than anyone else and so the more sensible and risk-averse someone is (and I think Mr Darcy would be careful) the less likely they would be to visit sex workers. Contracting something that was known as potentially deadly and capable of making a future wife infertile if it spread to her could make any intelligent and cautious man think twice.

Servants and tenants of the estate are another simple and common answer. Less risk of stds, it can be based on actual attraction more than money (though money might still change hands), and is a bit more intimate. But Wickham’s called wicked for something very similar, when he dallies (whether he only got to serious flirting, kissing, or sleeping with them I don’t think we can conclusively say) with the common women of Meryton: “his intrigues, all honoured with the title of seduction, had been extended into every tradesman's family.” And it isn't as though Wickham had any personal duty towards those people beyond the claims of basic dignity. Darcy, who is shown to have such respect and understanding for his responsibilities towards the people of his estate and duties of a landlord, would keenly feel if any of his actions were leading his servants/tenants astray and down immoral paths. Servants, especially, were considered directly under the protection of the family whose house they worked in. I think it's undoubtable that Mrs Reynolds (whose was responsible for the wellbeing - both physically and spiritually - of the female servants) would not think so well of Mr Darcy if he had experimented with maids in his youth. It would reflect badly on her if a family entrusted their daughter to her care and she 'lost her virtue' under her watch. Daughters/widows of others living on the estate not under the roof of Pemberley House are a little more likely, but still, if he did have an affair with any of them I can only think it possible when he was much younger and did not feel his duties quite so strongly. Of course lots of real men didn't care about any of this, but Darcy is so far from being depicted as careless about his duties that the narrative makes a point of how exceptional his quality of care was. Frankly, it's undeniable that none of Jane Austen's heroes were flippant about their responsibilities towards those under their protection. I cannot serious entertain an interpretation that makes Darcy not, at his current age, at least, cognizant of the contemporary problems inherent in sleeping with servants or others on his estate.

A servant in a friend’s house would remove some of that personal responsibility, but transfer it to instead be leading his friend’s servants astray and in a manner which he is less able to know about if a child did result. That latter remains a problem even if we move the setting to his college, so not particularly likely for his character as we know it… though it wouldn’t be unusual for someone to be more unthinking and reckless in their teenage years than they are at twenty-eight so I don’t think having sex then can be ruled out. Kissing I can much more easily believe, especially when at Oxford or Cambridge, but every scenario of sleeping with a lower-class woman has some compelling arguments against it especially the closer we get to the time of the novel.

Men did of course also have affairs with women of ranks similar to their own, though given Jane Austen’s well-known feelings towards men who ‘ruined’ the virtue of young ladies we can safely say that Darcy never slept with an unwed middle- or upper-class woman. Any decent man would have married them out of duty if it got so far; but if he was the sort to let it get so far, I think it impossible Jane Austen would consider him respectable. Widows are a possibility, but again, the respectable thing to do would be to marry them. Perhaps a poorer merchant’s widow would be low enough that marriage is off the table but high enough that the ‘leading astray’ aspect loses its master-servant responsibilities (though the male-female ‘protect the gentler sex’ aspect remains) but his social circle didn’t facilitate meeting many ladies like that. Plus, an affair with a woman in society would remove many layers of privacy and anonymity that sex-workers and lower-class lovers provided by simply being unremarkable to the world at large. It carries a far greater risk of scandal and a heavier sense of immorality in the terms of respecting a woman’s purity which classism prevented from applying so heavily to lower-class women.

I think it’s important to note here that something that removes the need to think about duties of landlords towards the lower-classes or gentlemen towards gentlewomen is having affairs with other men of a similar rank. But, aside from the risk of scandal and what could be called the irresponsibility of engaging in illegal acts, it’s almost certain that Jane Austen would never have supported this. For a devout author in this era the way I’m calculating likelihoods makes it not even a possibility. But if you want to write a different fanfiction (and perhaps something like a break-up could explain why Darcy doesn’t seem to have any closer friend than someone whom he must have only met two or so years ago despite being in society for years before that) it does have that advantage over affairs with women of equal- and lower-classes. I support alternate interpretations entirely – it just isn’t how I’m deciding things in this instance.

I keep coming back to the conclusion that, at the very least, Darcy hasn’t had sex recently and it was never a common occurrence. It wouldn’t surprise me if Jane Austen felt he hadn’t done it ever. Kissing, as we can see from all the parlour games at the time, wasn’t viewed as harshly, so I think he’s likely made out with someone before. But in almost every situation it does seem that the responsible and religious thing to do (which Jane Austen values so highly) is for it to never have progressed to sex. I also don’t think it conflicts with his canon characterisation to say that he wouldn’t regard sexual experience as a crucial element of his life thus far, and his personality isn’t driven to pursue pleasure for himself, so it’s entirely possible that he would never go out of his way to seek it. So, I’m inclined to think that the authorial and textual evidence is in favour of Darcy being a virgin even if the real-world contemporary standard is the opposite. (Though both leave enough room for exceptions that I’m not going to argue with anyone who feels differently; and even if you agree with all my points, you might simply weight authorial intent/textual evidence/contemporary likelihoods differently than I do and come to a different conclusion).

Remember that even if Darcy is a virgin this wouldn’t necessarily equate to lack of knowledge, only experience. There were plenty of books and artwork focused on sex, and Darcy, studious man that he is, would no doubt pay attention to what knowledge his friends/male relatives shared. Though some of it (Looking especially at you, 'Fanny Hill, Memoirs of a Woman of Pleasure') should NEVER be an example of appropriate practice for taking a woman's virginity. Darcy would almost certainly have been taught directly or learnt through exposure to other men talking to make sex good for a woman – it was a commonly held misconception (since Elizabethan England, I believe) that women had to orgasm to conceive. It would be in his interests as an empathetic husband, and head of a family, to know how to please his wife.

Basically, I’m convinced Darcy isn’t very experienced, if at all, and will be learning with Elizabeth. But he does have a lot of theoretical knowledge which he’s paid careful attention to and is eager to apply.

[howlsofbloodhounds]

{ @qin-qin16, @averageimp. The post I was talking about. }

Had a random thought while scrolling through the arcane tag but the way some caitvi shippers hate on Maddie for “getting in the way of caitvi” instead of also hating Caitlyn (both cait and Maddie, but I feel there’s a lot better reasons to dislike Maddie outside of “ruining” a relationship that was hardly even a relationship like Cait wasn’t equally as willing and responsible—such as ya know, being an indoctrinated seemingly sadistic spy helping a military force invade and conquer another nation) for—

not only choosing to sleep with and share her bed with another woman while the one who she supposedly “loves” is being beaten in a pit for money and drinking herself half to death,

But also using her power and authority and money and position to oppress and abuse the people of Zaun instead of helping them or even using all those resources to look for Vi and apologize or some shit,

Also abusing her power over Maddie. Maddie introduced herself to Vi as a “junior officer.”

Caitlyn is a Commander/Sheriff. She is Maddie’s commander. She is Maddie’s superior. Now I don’t know if the Enforcers would be considered more like the police force or the military, maybe both, but I think this could be considered Fraternization and an abuse of her power.

Now we all know that it turns out Maddie is a Noxus spy and her superior is actually Ambessa, but Caitlyn doesn’t know this. She believes she has power, authority, and rank over Maddie. She believes Maddie is her subordinate.

Caitlyn abuses her power and authority in more ways than one, and if Maddie weren’t a Noxus spy and Ambessa wasn’t buddy buddy with Caitlyn, Caitlyn could’ve very well ruined Maddie’s life and career if she so chose to do so on a whim,

Not to mention: Maddie’s whole spy gig wouldn’t have worked at all if Caitlyn weren’t so eager to abuse her authority and sleep with her subordinates.

Between Maddie and Vi, maybe Cait has a thing for women who are of less power and privilege than her—or at least women she views that way. Or maybe she just truly is that blind and ignorant of the power and privilege she has, or perhaps she just doesn’t care.

Regardless, it’s a little strange. Caitlyn is a full grown woman who has enough power to declare martial law and a warlord of another nation and her forces behind her. Maddie is a junior officer, who Cait does not know is actually a spy.

She is perfectly okay with the knowledge of this, and felt it was perfectly okay to allow a relationship with someone below her in rank and status and authority.

This sets up an inherent power dynamic where, in a more realistic world or if the writers had acknowledged this/Maddie hadn’t been a spy, she very well could’ve been at a risk of being fired or discharged from her job if she ever decided she didn’t want to sleep with her Boss anymore; even if the reason is as simple as Cait doesn’t want to take the risk of Maddie telling anyone and getting her in trouble.

Or, considering the fact that Cait had the power to declare martial law and is basically a dictator, could potentially have Maddie executed and claim it was for reasons such as “treason” or “being a traitor,” regardless of if it’s actually true or not in this scenario. Because Cait has so much power that her word is basically law, especially when compared to Maddie’s.

All in all, Maddie only “got in the way of caitvi” because Cait allowed her to and actively refused to use her massive manpower and resources to go look for Vi and make things up with her for months on end—instead wasting that time oppressing the lower class, hunting down and obsessing over Jinx, training with Ambessa, and using her subordinate’s body for her own gain while also acting cold and dismissive towards her once she got what she wanted for the day.

[saym0-0]

thinking about a wider-mcyt like. death network. like their are several reapers/gods that all watch over/take care of different aspects of death. kristin is in charge of permadeaths (hardcore/limited lives servers), zed(eath) is in charge of like. a few respawnable worlds- not all of them because i imagine with there being so many more of them and them each having so many more deaths its a big responsibility. pix works part time with just the one world (empires). i don't actually watch that many smps and it seems a common enough trope so if theres anyone else from another smp that would fit feel free to add on :D

they're all coworkers.

[triglycercule]

imagining this very funny totally amusing bit where dust (despite having a lot of pockets) makes horror carry a lighter for him (only because he can't be bothered to remember to bring one on him all the time) and horror keeps it in his head

but horror's a dick so everytime dust wants to smoke and he needs a light horror's always like "whats the password :3" (he actually said the emoticon i was the quotation marks) and dust has to guess. because horror changes it every time. and its never something predictable. and then he either just totally gives up on that cig or he has to forcefully dig into horror's head to get the lighter because horror's being a PRICK

now dust is shoulder deep into horror's eyesocket while horror is clawing and screaming and killer's just standing there behind them watching this unfold with that fuckass smile on his face (he can't get this type of entertainment anywhere else)

[always-a-joyful-note]

To Be Hero X, the most idol donghua that isn't an idol donghua that there ever was....

[icewindandboringhorror]

Little bright colored outfit with a fun vest ~

(shoes from ebay like 10 years ago. everything else is thrifted)

[inkyrainstorms]

The Totally Canon Ultimate Friend Group

[shadelorde]

Why do so many people unironically think the Fire Nation is the misogyny-less “girlboss” nation. What the fuck.

[clockwork-carstairs]

“You made yourself a different person than the one I loved” – on Kit’s letter, his projections & idea of Ty

aka where i try to make sense of kit’s letter in the context of who ty was to him. basically i think that understanding that kit may not have had an accurate image of ty in his head helps to contextualise why kit believes the things he does, regardless of whether they’re fair to ty or not. it makes more sense reading lines like:

“in all the world, kit had never met anyone he believed to be so incapable of evil”

“all his energy had gone into ty, all his devotion and hopes for the future”

because you can see so clearly how much kit was projecting onto ty. ty, more than a friend—or whatever you might call it—was also the personification of this new world and all it meant for kit. kit saw him as this overwhelming force of good, beautiful as an angel, someone who not only wouldn’t do evil but was “incapable” of it.

so you can kind of see why everything was lost for kit once ty went through with the necromancy: because by doing so he was breaking the image kit had of him. of ty as a saviour of sorts from kit’s previous life, the person who convinced him to stay, who made kit feel like he was really a part of something, something magical and exclusive that not everyone got to be.

further evidenced by other lines:

“he had been too fixated on losing ty to tell him what he needed to hear” -> kit knows he should have told ty much sooner how he really felt about the situation. kit knows he deflected and in various ways lied to ty about trying to bring livvy back. but kit had wanted to stay by ty’s side, stay included in ty’s plans, more than his desire to tell ty the truth that he hated the idea.

“you made yourself a different person than the one i loved” -> ty as a person being shaped by kit’s projections of all his hopes and dreams, the face of this new world kit was drawn into, the first person he really got close to after he was pulled from one world to another, the person who convinced him to stay.

was the “person [kit] loved” an accurate reflection of who ty really was, flaws and all? unlikely. and the image of ty in kit’s head didn’t allow room for the real ty’s complicated, overwhelming grief, either, and the ways he would try to cope with it: and i believe this is part of why kit was so shocked by what happened and why he’s still so angry at ty. because ty proved to him that he wasn’t what kit believed him to be, and so all of kit’s hopes for his new life came crumbling down.

do i think it’s fair to ty? no, i don’t. but i think both can be true: that kit is upset and had gone through a traumatic situation, and has valid feelings about it while also understanding that he had a very skewed perception of ty that wasn’t fair to him.

mostly i think we need more room for understanding ty’s feelings*. how it must have felt to lose his twin sister in a horrifying way, devised a plan that (to him) seemed completely reasonable** only to have his best friend switch up on him last minute, tell ty he loved him mid-ritual, later say he wished he’d never met ty and basically tell ty that he was selfish and then on top of that leave without saying goodbye.

i also stand by my belief that “how long do you think it will take you to forgive me” is something both ty and kit could/should be asking each other, not just one way around. i honestly don’t understand why both kit and ty would think only kit needs to forgive ty and not both ways. mostly i just don’t think the narrative that ty’s the only one who needs forgiving is very fair, or makes much sense with their characterisation + the context + what actually happened.

in sum, when kit says “you made yourself a different person than the one i loved”, the person he’s referring to is an idealised version of ty whom he had projected all his hopes and dreams for the future onto, and by going through with the necromancy ty completely shattered kit’s understanding of him. this is consistent with other lines in his letter: “you wanted that more than you wanted me”, “when you brought livvy back, you changed yourself” (did ty really change? or did he just prove to be different from kit’s idea of him? genuine question), and perhaps most strongly evidenced by this line: “i don’t know the person you are now. you took yourself away from me. i can’t forgive that.” i don’t understand why he can’t forgive ty for not being the person kit thought he was, nor how on earth ty was supposed to know this, but i digress.

* i hope this is addressed in TWP because between TDA and now, we’ve had FAR more insight into kit’s thought processes than ty’s and as such we’re only really seeing one side of the situation.

** i also think part of the glaring misunderstanding between kit and ty can be understood from their respective backgrounds. obviously for kit, growing up away from the shadowhunter world, something like necromancy is completely out of the question. the way it would be for you or me. but ty grew up in a world where bringing people back to life was something that could and had actually happened. so it’s a far crazier, more impossible idea to kit than it would’ve been to ty.

[sonknuxadow]

crazy how ive been seeing people absolutely losing their minds over the way amy is written in the generations remaster and how she was character assassinated and her crush on sonic was removed and im playing it right now and the literal first thing she does when you free her from white space is call sonic cute which is nowhere close to what she said in the original. wtf are you people on about