#my neighbours above me really don't think about others

[i-miss-lotor]

Who the fuck decides to fucking drill at 8am in an apartment

[alderaphid]

Porch Light

Wally Darling/Reader, Wally Darling & Reader

Contents: Gen, fluff, comfort, very mild Canon-adjacent spooks, gender-neutral reader, can be interpreted as romantic or platonic relationship, reader is a neighbour, bolded parts of Wally's dialogue are to convey his slow speech and stress on certain words and syllables

Word count: 3,272

Notes: Part of the @fluffbruary 2025 event! Check it out! This is from the day one prompts "Dark" and "Wander". I've written a handful of these already, and as much as I'd like to port them over to Tumblr I feel it would take too long ^^;; -- but feel free to explore my other oneshots for this event over on AO3!!

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You hadn't meant to be out so late.

Frank had invited you over to their house that evening to watch the fireflies gather in their backyard. He had been cultivating the perfect environment there for the little lightening bugs, sprinkling a special mix of wildflower seeds he had ordered from a gardening catalogue and letting the grass grow long. Julie had been there when you arrived in the late afternoon, bouncing a ball against the siding of Frank's house. The three of you chatted as the sun slowly crawled to the horizon, talking about what you had done during the day.

Frank turned out their porch light when the sky began to turn yellow, explaining that the fireflies disliked the artificial light. You leaned your elbows on the railing, listening to Frank as he talked about fireflies until Julie had shrieked out, pointing,

"Look!!"

There was a faint light in the grass, a slow blinking yellow light. Then, another across the way. Then another. Then another.

You could not believe your eyes-- you had seen fireflies once or twice before, but not in such a number. There had to be ten million of them flitting around, twinkling at you three in the ebbing sunlight. Frank had explained that each species had their own special pattern so that males and females could find each other. They had gently reached out and scooped up one that had lazily fluttered a little too close, placing it in your palms so you could look closer as he corralled a different one into his hands. Julie had snatched one right out of the sky with a 'woo!' and a wide smile, holding her fingers tight around the bug as the three of you compared your bug's patterns.

The one Frank held went blink blink blink blink... blink blink...

While the one in your hands went blink flash flash... blink flash... flash...

And Julie's bug went blink blink blink... flash flash flash... blink blink blink...

The whole event had been a near magical moment, and you could have spent forever there, laughing and talking with your neighbours. But the world turned, and the sun set, and then suddenly you were looking above the yellow-white glow of Frank's lawn to see nothing-- just the darkness of the night.

It seemed like the two of them hadn't noticed the time pass either-- Julie made a small sound and looked at her wrist. She had no watch on.

"Oh my! It's basically nighttime!"

Frank let out a little huff, looking beyond his backyard with a disgruntled expression as if it had personally offended him.

"Well, that's no good."

They turned to you, then.

"I'm sorry, I hadn't noticed the time passing. I--"

"Don't worry about it!" you replied, standing up and rubbing your hands on your pants.

"It was a very lovely evening with you two. Thank you for inviting me, Frank."

You nodded at your grey-felted neighbour, whose scowl grew deeper.

"Oh, you're not staying over at Frank's?" Julie asked, tilting her head. Her eyes darted to her best friend before she piped up.

"That's great! Then you can stay at mine for the night! I had the idea for a new sleepover game called "double-pillow-dutch" that I really think you'll like!"

You laughed, shaking your head as you stepped off the porch. Carefully, of course, so as to not step on any fireflies.

"Thank you for the offer, but I'm okay. I'll just walk home, it's not that far."

You were able to see the two puppets exchange a sort of worried look between each other, now. You didn't quite understand it. "I- Well-- Um, if you're sure-" Frank stuttered, but you were already walking off into the dark.

"Goodnight you two! See you in the morning!"

Oddly enough, your words almost sounded muted, like speaking into fog. Yet you had seen no indication of such a thing while in Frank's backyard.

But you continued on into the night, only realizing after a dozen steps that it was much, much darker than you had realized.

You looked back, but you had already moved in such a way that obscured Frank's backyard from your dight. That carpet of tiny stars was gone-- only a handful of fireflies flew around in the night, their lights faint and flickering.

Swallowing heavily, you huffed out a heavy breath and continued on.

It was dark. Darker than dark. So dark you couldn't see your feet, or your hand waving in front of your face. The only way you could navigate was by the scant few fireflies that had wandered out into the neighbourhood, and the few porch lights that your neighbours still had on.

But those too, were going out. You watched, dismay washing over you, as Poppy's light winked out; the only thing you had been orienting yourself to.

You... probably should have taken Frank up on their offer.

You could hear the crunch of dirt under your shoes, though. So you were likely on the path that wound all the way around the neighbourhood. You just had to follow that, and you'd eventually get to your house. It was fine. Everything was fine.

...

You kinda felt like you were being watched.

Which was, like, probable. Some of your neighbours could be night owls, still ambling about in their homes. They could be looking right at you, and just not know. It was fine. There was nothing out there in the neighbourhood, anyway.

...

What was that?

Almost a slithering sound, something sliding over the grass. Faint, but disruptive enough for your ears to pick up on it. You held back a surprised noise, tucking your arms close to your chest as you turned in that direction.

You didn't see anything, of course. It was dark.

...

You took a step forward, the dirt crunching under your shoe. You cringed, freezing in place.

...

There it was again. That slithering. And almost a dragging, too. Like something picking its foot up.

...

You swallowed heavily and prepared to scream.

But then--

You heard a creaking, the faint grind of brick against brick. You turned to the noise just as a light went on and beamed directly into your eyes.

Ouch!

But yay!

It was Home who had lit the night up, porch light like a beacon of hope in the pitch blackness that had been your world for the past... However long it had been. Their eyes were turned in your direction, shutters rattling against their siding in a surprised, almost frantic way.

Their door opened a second later, and Wally popped out. Obviously interrupted in the middle of his nightly routine; bundled up in a red and yellow robe patterned much like his well loved (albeit blue) cardigan, a red sleepmask with a closed yellow eye design sitting on his forehead. His voice hardly carried as he turned his head towards one of his house's windows.

"What's wrong, Home?" he asked them lowly. They looked off in your direction, starting to creak out a response just as you blinked the purple spots out of your vision.

"Wally!" you called out, holding a hand up. His head turned towards the sound of your voice, eyelids flying back as he did so. 

"Oh, you." he replied, voice going airy with relief. His pupils flickered back and forth, as if trying to find you in the nights murk-- you lowered your hand as you realized he couldn't see it.

The felt above his eyes creased after a moment, smile shrinking just a touch.

"You shouldn't be out this late."

"I know." you huffed sheepishly as you strode towards Home, giving him a crooked smile as you reached the light. Crossing Home's warm porch light glow seemed to ease some sort of heaviness in your chest. Wally looked up at you, the crease disappearing as he tilted his head, eyelids drooping once more and smile returning to its usual width.

"I'm glad Home saw you out here."

Said house let out a squeeeeak as its door opened wider, doorknob slipping from Wally's hand. He looked to his now empty hand, closing and relaxing it after a second and turning back to you.

"Yes. Come on in." he said, stepping sideways away from Home to make room for you to enter. Your smile crinkled at the edges as you walked inside, Wally following close behind and shutting Home's door gently once you both had crossed the threshold.

The curtain on the opposite side of the door's hinges fluttered out at the air differential, snagging on one of your shoulders and brushing against your arm as the house creaked above you.

"Home's asking why you were walking all alone in the dark." Wally said, walking around to face you and clasping his hands in front of himself. You sighed, reaching out to pluck a bit of fuzz off of the collar of his thinly striped, mostly white pajamas. He stayed completely still as you did so, focused on your face.

"I was watching the fireflies in Frank's backyard with them and Julie, and we all lost track of time." you replied, brushing at the curtain curling around your elbow before gently plucking it up and off your body. It clung to you just a touch before relenting, leaving behind a prickle of static electricity across your skin.

"Oh? The fireflies?" Wally asked with a tilt of his head.

"Are they out already?"

"Yes! Did Frank not-- um..." you shut your mouth as you realized that Frank may have not invited Wally over on purpose. Like they hadn't invited Eddie because of his fear of insects, or Barnaby because of... well, obvious reasons.

"Not what?"

Wally blinked at you, eyes widening after a beat.

"Ah. Not invite me over? No, he did. I was painting." he said finally. You let out a reciprocal 'ah' and nodded, a wry twist to your mouth.

"Fair enough. I'm pretty sure they'll be here for a while, a week at least. You have plenty of time to see them."

You felt a yawn coming on, then. That urge that bubbled in your chest, in the bottom of your jaw. You pressed your tongue to the roof of your mouth to quell it, to no avail. Overtaken by the need, you covered your mouth and nose with your hand, squeezing your eyes shut as you let out a loud yawn.

"Ooogh, I'm sleepy." you said, looking down at Wally and smiling.

"Well, I should get going back to my house. Thanks for the save, you two."

His own smile flattened, slightly, that wrinkle returning as his eyelids drooped more at the outer corners. Home creaked around you, a door opening and slamming shut further in.

"But you're here now."

You could understand his mildly obtuse wording-- that he was offering for you to stay there overnight. You shook your head, waving a hand dismissively.

"Oh, no, I wouldn't want to intrude--"

You were interrupted by the deadbolt in the front door sliding shut with a solid ker-chunk. Home lifted a curtain to glare at you as you turned, surprised, at the sound. There was no heat to her gaze, but the message was clear as his curtain fell back to a restful, sleeping position. You weren't going back out until morning.

"You aren't intruding. We like having you over." Wally said, verbalizing Home's actions. You sighed, pressing your lips together before a smile overtook your frown.

"Fine, fine. I'll spend the night."

Wally straightened up, face brightening as his eyes went wide, smile regaining its warm, easy curve.

"How lovely. It's been a long time since we've had a sleepover."

You knew he was referring to him and Home, because you hadn't had a sleepover with Wally yet. He clapped his hands together, slowly, in such a way that made no noise.

Home creaked in confirmation. At the same time, the floorboards wiggled under your feet, and you couldn't help but let out a little 'psshh' as you relented and took your shoes off. You set them on the shoe rack as Home wriggled their curtains proudly, creaking in a smug way above you. You pressed your fingers to your lips and blew them a kiss before turning to Wally.

"Do you have any spare clothes I can use as pajamas? That'll fit me?"

Wally looked up and to the side, crossing his arms and putting a hand under his chin.

"I'm not sure. We can find out."

Home squeaked, and Wally nodded.

"Let's start there."

He began walking further into the house, and you followed close behind.

Turns out he did have some clothes in your size— or well, close to it. Some things Julie had left behind at some point. Or maybe Sally? Perhaps Frank’s clothes. Or Barnaby’s. Or a mix of two of the lot.

You weren’t sure— it was just a pair of yellow, soft cotton lounge pants in a bright floral pattern, and a dark blue shirt with a smiling, close-eyed moon on it. But Wally handed them to you, neatly folded in his outstretched hands, and you took them gratefully.

Changing in the bathroom, you emerged from it with your clothes folded haphazardly in your hands and some clinking sounds coming from the kitchen.

"Walls?" you called out curiously.

"Here." he responded evenly, and though it was a vague answer you confirmed to yourself that it was him moving about and walked down the stairs.

His kitchen was lit by the small light above the sink, casting the cozy nook in a warm glow. You really loved this part of Home-- the counter stretched around in a near complete rectangle, with dark blue countertops and red cabinets. A red stove sat on one wall, and a red fridge on the other. A kettle sat on the stove over a coil, and Wally stood on a wooden chair with his face in a cabinet. Dragged over from the dining table, from what you could gather.

"What'cha doing?" you asked as you stepped into the kitchen area, leaning back against a counter. Wally withdrew from the cabinet, holding a single mug in his hand.

"During sleepovers you have hot cocoa." he said, sounding like he was repeating the words of someone else. He tilted his head at you, questioning.

"Right?"

You nodded, and he nodded back in a sure way, setting the mug on the counter before grabbing another. Smiling at how he carefully stepped down from the chair and dragged it over to another set of cabinets to grab the cocoa mix.

You stood up from your lean to grab the kitchen chair as he went to the fridge for the milk, giving him a closed eye smile as you brought it back to the dining table and pushed it in.

"Oh. Thank you." Wally said, and you nodded.

"No problem."

You continued to help set up the drinks, grabbing spoons from the drawer (that Home had eased open as you approached) and pouring the milk in after Wally had scooped the spoonfuls into the mugs.

When the kettle whistled, he took it off, and you stirred as he poured. The scent of rich chocolate wafted up from the mugs, and you felt your mouth begin to water.

Wally picked his up, holding it with both hands and waiting as you grabbed your own before shuffling over to the living room. He waited for you to sit on the couch before he did, and copied your movements as you brought the mug up to your face and smelled the steam.

"Mmm..." you sighed.

"M..." Wally said, more of a short chirp than a sigh. You smiled at that and took a sip, though he simply stared down at his drink.

"Were the fireflies nice?" he asked you after you had pulled your mouth back from the lip of the mug.

"Oh yes! They're about yay big-" you made a circle with your index and thumb about the size of a small plum, "with fuzzy antenna and sweet little faces. Each species has their own little light show that helps them find each other. Isn't that lovely?"

"That's lovely." he said, imitating you. And you laughed out loud this time, chuckling as you went in for another swig. The two of you sat there in amicable silence; you slowly drank as Wally gazed down at his own, and as the warmth of the hot cocoa began to emanate through your body, you began to grow sleepy.

Home had only one bedroom-- what would have been a guest room was instead Wally's art room. You assumed you were sleeping on the couch, which was confirmed after you had finished your drink. As you set the empty mug on the coffee table, Wally set his mug down too, careful not spill it, before walking over to the linen closet. Wally stood on his tiptoes as he pulled out a thick quilted blanket, nearly tumbling back as Home pushed it out into his arms. You sat up in alarm, only relaxing as Wally regained his balance. The quilt was so thick and folded so well that it completely obscured his face; you laughed as he turned and shuffled forward slowly, blindly.

"Peek your head around the side, you can see where you're going that way." you said to him. He did so a second later, eyes widening slightly as his head popped out to the right. Your face scrunched up in amusement as he strode forward much more confidently, now, walking over to the couch and setting the blanket on your lap. He then grabbed the decorative pillow sitting off to the side of the couch and turned it to lay against the arm, fluffing the sides before turning to you.

"I'll tuck you in."

You raised your eyebrows, but nodded, leaning back and swinging your legs up onto the couch cushions. You started to unfold the blanket, yours and Wally's hands brushing for a moment as he did the same-- eventually you were able to pull out one half of the corners as he did the others, pulling the blanket down over your feet.

You craned your head to watch as Wally used both hands to tuck the blanket down and around your feet; gently, so gently as to barely be effective, he moved up, the motions of his hands similar to how he fluffed the pillow your head was resting on.

Still, you appreciated the effort he was making, giving him a smile as he pressed his hands around your shoulders.

"Thank you Wally." you said.

"You're welcome." he replied. You saw his eyes dilate as they met your own, just slightly. Then, he leaned in, eyes sliding shut as he pressed his mouth to your forehead.

"Mwah!"

His felt tickled your skin, and you giggled as he pulled back with an exaggerated sound effect.

"Good night neighbour." he said.

"Goodnight." you replied, blinking sleepily at him. You watched as he picked up both mugs, closing your eyes and listening as he went to the kitchen and poured the contents of his own out, setting them both in the sink.

"Good night Home." you heard him say quietly. Home let out a few sleepy squeaks, and you heard Wally walk up the stairs as the lamp in the living room turned off, letting the darkness settle behind your eyelids.

"Goodnight Home." you murmured as well-- it was only polite, after all. The house creaked back, and though you never really understood him you knew exactly what he said.

Goodnight.

[nanamiskentos]

r/AsksReddit | Help! I think I accidentally summoned the King of Curses ! ⌦ part one of ?

💬 hi reddit, i know this sounds fake but i swear on my life it's true. i was just messing around with this prank book my friends got me last christmas and it had some 'ancient' summoning spells in it. i didn't even think it would work but there's a 7ft demon looking guy sitting on my couch and i don't know how to get rid of him.

Sorry, this post has been removed by moderators of r/AsksReddit. MOD: Please ask real and serious questions, thank you.

💬 update! the mods removed my post but i'm genuinely telling the truth here. anyway, it turns out that by summoning him, i think i bound us together for eternity. sukuna (that's his name) isn't that bad and he's kinda like a big, lazy cat.

u/9to5exorcist : Ryomen Sukuna? Are you quite sure? u/tenshadowsanimalcrossing : You're joking, no way u summoned sukuna lmfao. u/you : not joking! i took him grocery shopping today! u/SixEyesSensei : dm me asap!!!! please!!!!!!!!!!!!!

inspired by @kasukuna and the most amazing dumbass boyfriend!sukuna fics 🤎

absolutely refuses to use your furniture properly. sukuna insults your apartment for at least 2 whole days and calls it a sad, little domain. he has no idea what paying rent is like in this economy. lounges across the couch with all four arms spread, sits on the kitchen counters, and insists on rearranging your entire living room spread so he can move around it easier.

now you're constantly sleep deprived by having this deadbeat, massive behemoth of an awful flatmate. sukuna keeps telling you that he's a medieval sorcerer, someone who flattened entire clans and mountains but it's hard to take him seriously when he keeps hitting his head on your low ceilings. he's always so loud around the apartment, complaining about how boring it is for him to be stuck and bound to you forever. if you're a university student or just someone who's employed, he thinks he's being helpful by offering to curse your professors/employees.

you have to beg him to get some real clothes. you're slowly getting used to the anatomically strange sight of a 7ft man with four arms, but you know that others are going to call the police. he's usually wondering around your apartment and loitering in his loose, wide pants. nothing else, not even a shirt. occasionally sukuna will drape a cloak around his torso but you have to basically wrestle a baggy shirt over his head. and he bites you, at least thrice.

refuses to help clean, and claims he's very much above menial labour. one day, you threaten to leave sukuna hungry if he doesn't contribute for at least five minutes. he begrudgingly starts picking up after himself, but not before bestowing you with the ugliest death threats of all time.

sukuna is the very definition of a lazy freeloader. well, you told him to be useful and get a job, but then the idea of him causing more problems and insurance paperwork later made you break out in a cold sweat. so he usually spends his hours just loitering around your apartment, and draining your resources. never puts dishes in the sink and still doesn't grasp the concept of a fridge so he's always leaving the door open.

but he is very curious about modern day life. seems like the world has really moved ahead in the one thousand years that sukuna hasn't walked the earth. asks a million questions about wifi, the internet, a phone, streaming services and so on. he will be the last to admit it but he loves trashy reality television, and he enjoys watching 'pathetic humans squabbling over pathetic things'. has an ugly, evil-ass laugh that wakes up your neighbours at 3am.

after weeks of being cooped up in your apartment, he starts complaining. loudly. stomping around and getting even nastier, to the point where you have to give in. he tells you that he is no house pet, and if you don't let him outside, he will go anyway and have his own fun. god help you, sukuna's idea of fun in the big city will involve blood and destruction so you relent and prep him with a million rules that he ignores.

has a beef with a bunch of birds that sit outside your apartment every morning. definitely the type of weirdo that glares back at birds and throws rocks at them. backfired, because the entire swarm started flocking around him. but you did promise him that you'd let him go outside, so you decide to start with somewhere easy. grocery shopping.

already impressed with the idea of grocery shopping and parking lots. has no clue why humans would cram their 'carriages' in one place, and has no concept of traffic laws. you try patiently explaining that these cars weigh tonnes of metal and they can really injure a person. sukuna's pretty confident that no car could ever even scratch him. cue the big delivery truck that almost runs him down.

completely fascinated by sliding doors. it's already embarrassing enough being outside with a loud, rude tank with pink hair and tattoos. but now he's holding up gruntled customers trying to figure out what enchantment allows glass to move so smoothly on its own. keeps stepping back and forth in front of them to watch them open and close. almost breaks them with the strength of just one cracked fingers before you plead with him to keep moving.

sukuna encounters an escalator for the first time and refuses to step on it, and vows to bash in the head of the little kid who gave him a big side eye. after five minutes of arguing, he finally steps onto the moving belt and almost tilts off-balance, but he's got a tattooed hand practically gripping the side for dear life.

literally the biggest hater when he's inside properly. makes snarky remarks about how this flashy bazaar can't possibly be for real merchants who respect the trade. you try to show him the different types of stores, but he's more interested in people watching. loud people-watching. you almost go home when sukuna asks another man why he's swallowing wet balls. hint: it was an innocent guy having bubble tea.

entirely interested in new fruits and vegetables that he's never seen before. but he'll pretend he doesn't give a flying fuck. has taken a deep liking to tomatoes, and comments that these delicious, tasty red globes were not around during his era. sukuna thinks colourful cereal boxes are the worst things to ever happen to mankind, and you fear that you gave him too much internet access when he sneers at you for picking up a box of froot loops - suddenly muttering things about artificial and fake foods with fake flavours.

baffled by the concept of frozen food, and wonders what sort of jujutsu keeps the meat cold and fresh? practically wide-eyed when he reaches the butcher's stand until you tell him that 'no, sukuna. you can't buy steak and eat it raw here. we have to get home and cook it.' he's just happy to see the deli. he opens the freezer and fridge doors for too long and lets all the cold out.

he has no concept of modern money or a credit card. insists that there is no need to trade for these goods, and he can just take what he wants. you believe him but you're trying to avoid the mall police, but he just stands behind with his arms crossed, while you sigh and take out your credit card to pay at the self checkout.

sukuna refuses to sit still at the food court, and towers over the poor workers. demands to know how the food is made, "is it poisoned? who are your chefs?" the poor teenager working the kebab store has to call the manager to get this fiend of a man to back off. he's able to polish off a doner kebab in two, nasty bites. refuses to carry any of your shopping bags and claims that he's not a mule. you remind him that he put in five tubs of ice creams and two watermelons, and he begrudgingly slings the lightest bag over his shoulder and leaves you to haul the rest up.

but who knew the key to keeping your local king of curses happy was to just simply take him out for a walk? sukuna seems more energised (while you feel like death warmed over) and he's already tearing open a bag of your favourite crisps, insisting that next time he will be able to conquer this 'shopping centre' properly and rule it with ease.

[hollowed-theory-hall]

Isn't it a bit funny that we know about the history of Salazar Slytherin more than we know about the history of Godric Gryffindor, the founder of the house that our beloved hero is sorted in? We don't even know if Godric had children or descendants, unlike the other founders of Hogwarts. I'd seriously love to know more about Godric. But Salazar's history and legacy really did fill the audience in more than any other history of the other founders.

Like, what we know about Salazar Slytherin is also questionable. Like, the Founders lived around the 990s, a thousand years before the books. If you ever read early medieval history you know there are a lot of unknowns in the information we have. Ancient authors that wrote histories in which they made shit up, heavily biased information, family genologies where people claim to be descendant of important figures to strengthen their claims even though that connection probably isn't real, people writing thri-hand accounts as if they've been to the even themselves. Historical writing from long enough ago can be a mess (not to mention the lack of standardized spelling and words with meanings lost to time that cannot be translated).

That being said, history in the Wizarding World is weird. We have Helena Ravenclaw and the Bloody Baron at Hogwarts, two people who knew the Founders, who probably spoke Old English (which begs the question of ghosts learning new languages). There might be portraits left behind from these times, which allow a mostly accurate (if filtered through personal bias) view of history. Many of the above problems I mentioned will still exist since you're basing your information on word of mouth and not archeological evidence, but it's way better and more extensive word of mouth than what we muggles can get our hands on.

I know you asked more about the narrative and the fact that the narrative doesn't go much into the founders (especially ones that aren't Slytherin), but I think this question of why JKR wrote one thing over another isn't as interesting as how historical research works in the WW. Since I personally prefer to do Watsonian analysis over Doylist.

Becouse, for JKR, it was probably that the other founders weren't as important to the plot, or not as interesting. Which is a legit reason not to mention them. And, honestly, this is a hole in the world-building I don't mind. It doesn't disrupt the narrative and allows space for headcanons and fanon. Which is good for me. I don't mind when a story leaves some space for the reader to fill in blanks, especially when it's background details like this, which aren't actually all that important. And it's good for stories to leave out some stuff to the readers' imagination — that's part of the fun.

My best guess is that Gryffindor's name died out pretty early like Ravenclaw, who doesn't seem to have any heirs since Helena died. The Smith family are descendants of Hufflepuff. The Gaunts are descendants of Slytherin, but we don't really know about him much more than any of the other founders. Like, we don't even know if the purpose of the Chamber was really to kill muggleborns or if it's an intention that was attributed to him post mortem.

We know in the early Middle Ages the sentiment regarding muggles wasn't as negative as we see later on (after all, witch hunts wasn't a medieval problem, it's an early modern problem):

Shrewd enough to see that their Muggle neighbours would seek to exploit their powers if they knew their full extent, witches and wizards kept themselves to themselves long before the International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy came into effect.

(QTtA)

Early medieval wizards and witches worried over muggles requesting magic from them and exploiting their good nature, not that they would be hunted down. That concern only appeared later in the Renaissance (which is when Beedle the Bard lived, btw). So there is some doubt regarding Slytherins' personal opinions about Muggles, muggleborns, and dark magic (since "Dark Magic" as a term is kinda weird. It's a legal term more than a magical one and most spells that the ministry considers "Dark" aren't so (creating Infri and Horcruxes is dark magic, but a jelli-legs jinx is not actually dark, come on). I mean, the Unforgivables only became such in 1717, so clearly, before then, public opinion was different about them and other curses).

But back to the more interesting question of how historians in the WW work. Like, do they question ghosts? Do they have archaeologists? How do they know what happened in the past? Binns isn't a thousand years old; he lived at least 500 years after the founders, so what is his source for everything about the Chamber?

Well, for this, Quidditch Through the Ages comes in clutch. The book includes an extensive section of the history of Quidditch and explains that wizard historians actually don't work that differently from muggle historians. And that their methods to find out history don't actually involve as many ghost interviews as I would've expected.

Records show that witches and wizards in Europe were using flying broomsticks as early as A.D. 962. A German illuminated manuscript of this period shows three warlocks dismounting from their brooms with looks of exquisite discomfort on their faces. Guthrie Lochrin, a Scottish wizard writing in 1107, spoke of the “splinterfilled buttocks and bulging piles” he suffered after a short broom ride from Montrose to Arbroath. A medieval broomstick on display in the Museum of Quidditch in London gives us an insight into Lochrin’s discomfort (see Fig. A).

(QTtA)

Early wizarding writings and paintings give us some idea of the games our ancestors played. Some of these no longer exist; others have survived or evolved into the sports we know today.

(QTtA)

The famous painting Günther der Gewalttätige ist der Gewinner (“Gunther the Violent Is the Winner”), dated 1105, shows the ancient German game of Stichstock.

(QTtA)

Scotland was the birthplace of what is probably the most dangerous of all broom games – Creaothceann. The game features in a tragic Gaelic poem of the eleventh century, the first verse of which says, in translation

(QTtA)

We owe our knowledge of the rude beginnings of Quidditch to the writings of the witch Gertie Keddle, who lived on the edge of Queerditch Marsh in the eleventh century. Fortunately for us, she kept a diary, now in the Museum of Quidditch in London. The excerpts below have been translated from the badly spelled Saxon of the original. [...] It is immensely interesting that there was a “big Scottish warlock” present. Could he have been a Creaothceann player? Was it his idea to bewitch heavy rocks to zoom dangerously around the pitch, inspired by the boulders used in his native game?

(QTtA)

We find no further mention of the sport played on Queerditch Marsh until a century later, when the wizard Goodwin Kneen took up his quill to write to his Norwegian cousin Olaf.

(QTtA)

These are some examples from the book and the methods for historical research are pretty much the same as we have. It's based on diaries, writing, paintings, and archeological evidence (the medieval broom). No one is asking ghosts who lived back then how Quidditch was played. No one is talking to magical portraits. They rely on physical or written evidence and speculation based on logic, just like we Muggles do.

I mean, magical portraits might have only been invented later, but it doesn't explain why ghosts aren't asked. I mean, Helena and the Bloody Baron were alive in the 10th century. They would be familiar with some of this history; they would know about 10th-century brooms, so how come no one asks ghosts? For that matter, why did no one ask Helena about the whereabouts of Ravenclaw's diadem until Tom Riddle in the 1940s?

And all these questions led me to two new headcanons/theories:

1. Magical portraits were invented in the 1400s or later. The fact that paintings from the early Middle Ages and into the 1100s are referred to as "paintings" and not "portraits" and implied to be non-speaking, suggests the talking portraits we see are a newer magical invention, and therefore history before the early modern period cannot be learned from portraits.

2. Ghosts are considered "unreliable" sources of history. My guess is that most ghosts are more like Binns than they are like Nearly Headless Nick. Binns doesn't know which class he is talking to, what the students' names are, and what year it is. He is stuck in his own unexistence. If most ghosts behave this way, it could explain why it's a frowned-upon practice among magical historians to use their accounts as evidence.

But if that's the case, it's even more bizarre that Binns is teaching history. But then again, teaching history isn't the point of these lessons, and he's been at his post so long, all the parents have been taught by him. Not to mention he isn't teaching his own experience, but that from books, so his own biases/memory issues that are the problem with getting history from ghosts are irrelevant. There would only be a few magical historians (like Bathilda Bagshot) who might object to his position, but most of the wizarding population probably doesn't care.

These are just some thoughts I had regarding how history is written in the WW, and how, therefore, all the in-world history we know is inherently flawed since it is based on surviving written/oral accounts and physical evidence. They clearly don't have any magical method to learn more about their history, and for some reason, no one is asking the ghosts. But this all is great, since it means their history can be taken with a grain of salt the way I usually treat their in-world history.

[mrs-chonk]

A waste of blood - Paucity

Part 1 master list here (The story is heavily inspired by this art made by @miracleboylene) tags : sevikaxreader, AU of arcane, set in a fantasy/maleficent-inspired world, reader isn't explicitly mentioned or present in this chapter, brief swearing involved, 1000+ words, third person, can't really think of anything else note : this series will be a bit longer! please don't complain about how many parts this will take, I have to include world-building and add a whole new character. Anyways, enjoy! summary : Sevika is called to the castle. But for what task?

"We're friends, aren't we?" they ask quietly. 

She looked at them, a small pause strung in between them, like the highest cord of a lyre. "Of course." 

They scoot closer to the second, taking her hand. My golden girl, They think. The girl with the obsidian hair littering the view of her dusty eyes. Eyes so knowing, knowing of things that should've been kept behind closed doors and garden hedges. The girl with the big voice and shifty eyes. The eyes that have seen so many things that should've been left behind fresh linen sheets and starry skies. The girl with the passionate bearings about small things like rocks, sunrises, and the smell of dandelions in her neighbour's garden. Her small chubby hands, which were calloused from squeezing a wheelbarrow too tight. Her chipped tooth from when she'd fallen off her horse when they were 11. The scar on her left cheek that she'd refused to talk about, and the other thought it was because she wanted to keep something close to her chest. Something that the other didn't know. The girl with her early mornings and secret smiles. The girl with her worries. 

The girl with a father who slowly smothered her, his binding words and silent resentment. 

The girl with her gentle nature and loyal heart, too precious to be exposed to the world. Yet she was not exposed, but instead thrown, dragged, kicked, and beaten into it. Shamefully.

“And we’re always going to be friends?” They ask, fragile, as if a single breath could undo the 13 years of life they had already lived so boisterously. 

The girl looked seemingly undisturbed by this question, a skill she had learned so well from her father. Though internally she wonders what follows this conversation, what tragedy the other could have foreseen to tear them apart so suddenly. ”Yes. Always.” She says, with hesitancy you could only see if you paid close enough attention, gently rubbing her round fingers against the calluses at the edge of her palm.

The other smiles and closes their eyes beneath the twilight, and allow the moonlight to swallow them. Emulating a sharp glistening spark along their contrastingly melanated skin. “That's good enough for me, Golden Girl.” 

“Fuck.”

Her fingers fumble the sling for what feels like the millionth time. The bend of her chest leaves little room for anything else, forcing the sling of her prosthetic to crawl its way provokingly between the divot of her mounds. A string of shushed audible fucks leaves her deep brown lips, as she finally reaches for her merlot cape. Quickly tossing it over her shoulder. The metal creaking, a once sturdy design betrays her with its age, rust now lining its entrances and crevices against her shoulder. The floorboards were now littered with sun rays that had broken through her window. She makes a few lazy, but large strides to her varnished entrance door stepping on them, and closing the door with conviction behind her.

“In a hurry Sev?” She turns to see a tall, wide man holding a dull machete and a bucket with questionably cut slabs of assorted vegetables inside. And a lucrative addition of dirt smeared across his upper lip and hairline. A small girl behind him begins to make “snowballs” out of the soppy mud below her. Lightly giggling to herself and her silver hair clips reflecting the sunlight above. Sevika fiddles with the lock on her door, knowing that the frame of it is so torn that the door could easily be kicked down regardless. ”Still rushin’ around? Ya know, I’d say that ‘Vanessa’ up there works you too much these days.” he says with a hand on his hip, twirling the machete loosely in small circles. 

“Busy, Vander. Unlike some people, I don't have time for mud pies.” She says unamused and in a slightly bitchy tone as she finishes up with the lock, abandoning it and leaving it open. Her weak brown soles slap the stone path as she rushes uphill. Making way for the tall ivory towers of the kingdom ahead. Vander flicks the machete’s handle against his side, the dull thud matching his quiet sigh. “Alright then.” Vander mumbles, to himself almost. With a huff, he turns around to give the small blue-haired girl a frown, followed by a stern index finger nodding in her direction. She drops the congealed ball of mud and wipes her generously soiled hands on her pant leg. 

Sevika ponders the inquiries of the queen, the reason she's walking this absurd distance in the first place. She was accustomed to the queen's requests for intel, small things regarding the people of Sevika’s side of the kingdom. A side the queen herself would rather distance herself from. 

The queen knows they're not all animals unlike the rest of the council is convinced. She sees them as important; she knows they serve a greater purpose than even they know. But it is about keeping them in line. The lesser must be cultivated to believe in little, dream small, and keep working —all with no hope of achieving above their means. To keep them tamed you must beat them, kill them, and hurt them. That is a queen's duty. But Sevika’s duty lies in a more urgent nature. 

“You're late.” The woman's octave reached lower than Sevika was expecting. Spindling her position, Ambessa faces Sevika. Her expression was rather blank, yet obtrusively disturbed. Sevika didn't reply with words, but instead with a bothered expression that rang “Get to the point.” without verbalizing it. Ambessa saw it and promptly ignored it, moving to more pressing matters than the ugly meaning behind Sevika's contorted face. 

A gruff expression of hesitancy clouds her face, her dark brows nuzzle their way into the center of her face and her lips tighten their seal; as if careful not to spill unwanted secrets. “You’ve heard of the market spikes I would imagine? Ref among them.” She slowly began her small circle around Sevika, her heavy feet gently meeting the tile floor. Leaving small unseen traces of dirt and bacteria. The small flickering candles down the hall left glints of orange sprinkled in her luxurious coiled hair, the strands of silver emulating a bright white rather than any specific colour. “It's funny how a dried-up flower can cause so much disturbance when left unattended.” Sevika releases a pent-up sigh from her lightly scared mouth. “And you think I know who's eating poppy seeds?” she asks in an almost rhetorical tone. Ambessa, yet again, doesn't give her sass any attention, looking at her when she speaks but not changing her face to accommodate her words. Turning her head to look at a painting on the wall instead, one depicting her young daughter, who could be no more than a couple of years old by now, maybe 8 or 9. Sevika had seen her daughter a few times, peeking around the corner at her and Ambessa’s conversations or sitting with poise and strictness in portraits along the main hall of the castle, which was always dimly lit, heavily guarded, and the location of these curious conversations. Ambessa allowed a small indent of worry to crumple her brows.

“No. I want order. Ref is a distraction, but distractions are costly.” Her face ever so slightly changed to one of frustration and reminiscence. “Someone a little too close to home has let their greediness get the best of them. Someone’s been careless. Their indulgence compromises more than their purse. It compromises us all.” Sevika's interest peaked, the concept of a part of the court succumbing to what must be public humiliation among the council, the thought amused her. “This weed must be nipped before it grows outside of my jurisdiction. I need someone with a precise hand and… good sheers.” she says, questioning her analogy a bit before she continues speaking. Sevika slowly understanding the picture being painted before her. “Find the hidden game, the treasures buried beneath the decay. Bring them to me, before the wolves smell weakness in our borders. I trust you know how to get your hands dirty, coming from a long line of prestigious hunters.” Her smile doesn't reach her ears, and she lets out a low hum when Sevika relaxes her face out of annoyance, and into curiosity as she begins to speak. “What am I looking for?” Sevika doesn't want to feed the rich by any means, but she of all people knows best what happens when the rich go unfed.

[dearchloe]

one big appy family

All characters are 18+

I was exhausted. Just back from my first term at university, wiped out from a long day of travel by a succession of trains, all of which had been either cancelled, delayed, or moved to a platform at the other end of the station at the last moment, I wanted nothing more than to collapse into bed from the moment I got home. Instead, I had to fend off a round of interrogatories from my parents and neighbours, pretend to be sociable as far into the evening as I could manage, tell them all the same (sanitised) freshers' week stories that they'd already heard twice before, and choke my way through a three course meal before finally being allowed to retreat to the sanctuary of my childhood bedroom and disappear under the covers into blessed oblivion.

It lasted, by my reckoning, about two hours.

I woke suddenly, the house in darkness and quiet at last, and stared into the black void that was my room, such an adjustment now after the past months of thin curtains above city-bright streets. For a moment, I wondered why I had returned to the land of the waking — and then a part of the darkness shifted awkwardly from one foot to the other, and I knew, and I sighed internally at what was no doubt soon to come.

"What is it, Vicky?"

My sister came closer, sitting uninvited on the edge of the bed. "Erin?"

"Yeah?"

"I missed you."

"I missed you too. But I swear to god, if you've woken me up just to tell me that..."

"No, I didn't."

"Then what is it?"

"I'm wet."

Like a lot of people, I had to help look after my sister when I was growing up.

Unlike a lot of people, it was my older sister.

To anyone else, this would be strange. To me, it was simply my family.

"Let's see." Reluctantly, I pulled myself upright and leaned forwards, giving Vicky's nappy a good squeeze through the fluffy fabric of her pyjamas. She simply sat there, unresisting. "You'll last till morning. Get back to bed."

"But Erin! I'm gonna leak!"

"Keep your voice down."

"My bed will get all wet!"

"And I'll end up cleaning it, and probably bathing you as well, so what do you care?"

She whined. "It's yucky!"

"Bed. Now. I'm tired."

"But Erin..."

I clicked on my bedside light. "Victoria Drover. Just because I've been away, do you think the rules have changed?"

"... No."

"So what do you absolutely not do at night?"

"... Get out of bed."

"How many times do I have to tell you, Vicky?"

"But... But I need..."

"No, you don't." I put out a hand and grabbed my phone from the bedside table, and my sister suddenly assumed an expression of total panic.

"Erin... Erin, please... I'll be good..."

"Should have thought of that before." I opened my phone and flicked through the apps, looking for one I hadn't used in a while. When I was at home, the tracker app that the family used to keep tabs on Vicky's needs and behaviours lived at the top of my Most Used list. The rest of the time, I hardly opened it.

I ignored Mum's latest nursing stats on the Food tab and clicked into Sleep instead. As Vicky watched, bouncing from one foot to the other with nerves, I found the point where Mum had registered her as going down for the night, opened the entry, and edited the end time. Then I put my phone down on the covers and looked up at my older sister.

"Ok, Victoria. I'm going to put you back to bed, and if you go down ok for me, I'll write that you had a nightmare and I got you back to sleep. If you're going to give me a hard time, I'll write down what really happened. And your sleep stats don't look too good this month, do they?"

Mum kept a religious watch on Vicky's sleeping, feeds, and nappies, helped by the comprehensive recording service offered by the app. If any one of them didn't come up to scratch, she had a range of unpleasant methods of correcting it. For sleep, the answer was usually to put my sister on a newborn schedule — eighteen hours a day, more or less only interrupted for feeds and changes. But that was a hell of a lot of work for anyone involved, and I wasn't too proud to save myself the effort if it was possible.

My sister sighed. "Fine."

"If you're good, I'll change you first thing tomorrow." I glanced down at her records. "Though I think you're overdue to make a stinky nappy for us, so you might want to work on that."

"Night, Erin."

"Night, Vicky. Sleep well."

"Sleep wet, more like."

[theficpusher]

My Little Poet by Thingssicant | G | 1861 Louis is a librarian and someone keeps ruining his books

don't be shy, i'm your guy by winterPearls | nr | 4658 "...Harry wondered if this pixie of a boy with crinkles by his long lashed eyes had a personality as addictive and loud as his laugh that reverberated around the otherwise silent library..." or AU where Harry is a cute librarian that really likes one of the boys that is a regular and he just wants to talk to him but he's shy and it's cute honestly i just suck at summarizing

Just Jump by jaerie | E | 9748 Finally, after years of suffering alone, the insurance plan at Harry's new job covered omega heat services. As a grown omega adult, it finally felt like the right time to try it out. And, since taking an entire week of heat leave would really put him behind at work, using a service to shorten it seemed like a responsible decision. At least that’s how he rationalized it. He was nervous about his decision but it was too late. The doorbell rang. “Hi!” The alpha said again and Harry took the hand he offered and shook it firmly. “I’m Louis from Omega Services. It’s nice to meet you.”

Record Your Fate (and Write Me In) by LadyLondonderry | T | 13012 Harry is the Archivist, it's his job to record what happens in the universe. He's only a few days into the job when things take an odd turn. Suddenly, the small blue eyed boy seems more important than writing about crowning dignitaries.

If the Surface Begs You Home by QuickedWeen | T | 17752 Harry is a mermaid from the underwater kingdom of Mercadia who is a little too fascinated by life above the surface. He's kicked out of his home after he winds up pregnant, and has to figure out how to make his way in the world. Louis is the darling of the small neighbouring seaside village who came home after university to take over their local library, and can't seem to stay away from the mysterious pregnant mermaid his friends introduce him to.

Checking Them Out?: How To Use Your Library Science Degree To Get an Alpha by InsightfulInsomniac | E | 19965 When a flirty, attractive alpha patron checks out an entire shelf of literature on omega behavior and omega rights, Harry can’t help but wonder why the man is so interested — is he a really attentive partner, or is he just a creep? It doesn’t help that this alpha visits weekly to exchange his books… and that he smells absolutely divine. Whether he likes it or not, Harry has a crush.

The Library Universe [Series] by allwaswell16 | E | 33825 Harry Styles has a great life. He’s a children’s librarian at the New York Public Library, he’s got wonderful friends, and he loves cooking, green tea, yoga, and his collection of bow ties. He doesn’t mind that his life seems a little structured, maybe even a little boring. But when Louis Tomlinson joins the library staff as the new Installation Coordinator, things become a lot less predictable. Louis gets under his skin right from the start, bossing Harry around, making noise during story time, and eating the last cupcake in the staff lounge. Louis may be almost offensively attractive, but Harry will not be succumbing to Louis Tomlinson’s charms, even if the rest of the library staff have.

i was yours (i wish you were mine) by staybeautiful | E | 56283 “Harry Styles!” His name rang out clear through the city streets. He turned quickly back to the bar, startled by his own name and startled by the voice that called him. Standing in the doorway to the bar, back lit and glowing slightly was Louis. Not an eighteen year old apparition dressed in the same low slung blue jeans and t-shirt with swooping bangs that was always the image in his mind. No, he was Louis now. or Ten years ago Harry dropped his best friend and high school boyfriend off at the train station and never saw him again. Now, he's twenty seven, living in NYC, and dreadfully unlucky in love. He can't stop wistfully thinking of Louis promising that they'd see each other again in ten years time. A chance meeting outside a bar has them tumbling head first into a summer of music, milkshakes, and maybe each other.

Through Eerie Chaos by MediaWhore | G | 102104 For as long as anyone can remember, Old Hillsbridge Manor has always been believed to be haunted. Everyone in the village agrees and keeps a respectful, fearful, distance. New in town after a bad breakup and an internship that led to disappointment rather than a permanent job, Harry Styles figures taking pictures of the decrepit building could be a great new creative project. Or at least a much-needed distraction while he searches for a job and crashes at his parents’ new house. No one warned him about the apparitions though; about the music, the laughter, the people who flicker and vanish when you call after them, the echoes of a past that should be long gone… Harry has never believed in spirits but even he can admit that there’s something weird going on. What starts as mere curiosity evolves into a full-blown investigation and soon enough, Harry finds himself making friends with an aristocrat from the 1920s and struggling with finding the best way to tell him that he’s dead. The Ghost Hunter AU where Niall lives to prove ghosts are real, Zayn is a skeptical librarian and Harry gets caught up in a century-old mystery and catches feeling in the process.

[inkblackorchid]

me again! 😹 I love the headcanons you wrote ,thank you ! While reading them I imagined something else so I thought to give it a try !

Perhaps, do you think you could write Faithshipping married headcanons? That would be so cool , thank you in advance:)

Also ,I am so excited for more Faithshipping fanfictions. Also ,I love how you're giving Aki more time to shine and get actual development 🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹

@mathemagician93 Hope you don't mind me combining these since they pertain to similar topics!

Had to think about these for a while so they've unfortunately been sitting in my inbox for a couple of days, haha. But here we go, married faithshipping headcanons!

The proposal is a long time coming (especially to Aki and Yusei's long-suffering friend circle), but both of them don't know how to go about it at first.

I imagine Aki's parents are just traditional enough that they're basically expecting Yusei to propose, while Aki herself really doesn't mind who proposes, but ends up being too chicken to do it herself. (She doesn't think Yusei would reject her, but old fears are a bitch and she knows it would break her heart if he said no for any reason.)

Yusei, meanwhile, definitely has the courage to propose, but doesn't have the foggiest idea how to. What do people do when they propose?? (Jack and Crow are the polar opposite of helpful, btw.) He ends up taking Martha's advice of doing it in a simple, but heartfelt way.

It's not a big thing. It's a date, but not a date that immediately seems special. There's no crowd, only them. The question's quiet and earnest, and the memory of it belongs to them and them alone.

(For a couple of days, the others don't even know the big question came up. Everyone's offended as hell when they find out Aki and Yusei didn't consider it big enough of a deal to make a big announcement out of it. But big doesn't matter to them. What matters is each other.)

I imagine several parties would try to hijack the wedding planning. Among them, Jack, Carly, and Aki's parents. Nobody manages to keep their trap shut and not make unprompted suggestions, at any rate.

Despite the above, the wedding wouldn't be big and fancy, either. Everyone who's important is there, but nobody beyond that. Aki manages to wriggle the occasional input out of Yusei and puts together some kickass (floral, duh) decor.

(They both stress about the wedding. Aki looks more like she stresses, but in truth, Yusei's also worried he's going to make an idiot of himself. Fancy occasions were never his thing. But they manage to put their heads together and make it work, because that's what they're best at.)

Married life ends up not being all that different from the way things were before. I'd imagine they already lived together and tackled day-to-day life together before. Except now both of them are Dr. Fudo.

(Yusei wouldn't have minded taking Aki's name, but Aki's parents fussed and she wasn't too attached to Izayoi, anyway, so she happily takes Fudo.)

They absolutely manage to mix up their name tags for work (if not their lab coats outright) at some point.

Half of the nurses working with Aki know and are convinced she's married to Yusei Fudo (yes, that Yusei Fudo). The other half are dead convinced the others are just pulling their legs and that it's a rumour because it would be cliché anyway, etc. The reason why is that Aki doesn't see the reason to make a big deal out of her marriage (and knows Yusei likes his privacy).

By contrast, the entirety of MIDS knows Yusei's married to Aki Izayoi. Because he brings her up every second conversation—not even to brag (although he sometimes does), but simply because he thinks of her that often. (You cannot convince me Yusei would not be one of the most wife guys to ever wife guy.)

They are popular with literally all their neighbours because they're the most capable couple on the block. Your washing machine is broken? Ask Yusei about it. Your grandma tripped and fell? Better pop over to Aki.

They're good at dividing up the chores and know exactly which chores each the other likes to do less. (Aki's better at doing the laundry and hates cleaning the bathroom, Yusei's better at doing the dishes and hates dusting the furniture.)

Despite Aki's demanding work hours, being a doctor and all, Yusei still always manages to be awake earlier than her. He knows exactly for what time her alarm is set and always makes sure a cup of tea and something small to eat are ready for her by then.

In return, Aki likes to stay on top of making sure that Yusei's got lunch he can take with him to work. (Because she knows his abysmal working habits and the fact that he makes time to actually go for lunch too rarely.)

They coordinate their days off to the best of their ability. What free time they have, they want to be able to spend together.

Yusei may or may not forget his lunch on occasion. Aki, on days where she's not stuck at work herself, may or may not pop into MIDS to bring her husband his lunch. (Yusei's coworkers find it hilarious.)

Hope you like these! And thank you so, so much, glad you enjoy my stories! Aki deserves every little bit of development I can give her. ^^

[sazandorable]

Ok, you mentioned Akai Shuichi dating/being the sugar baby of the Kudos in a reblog notes, give me the details please as I also have believed in that theory for the past goddamn three years but had no one else to talk to about it

HI. Hello friend (we are now friends automatically because of this). Sorry it took me [checks watch] 2 weeks to reply, I have very low spoons even on things I am VERY EXCITED ABOUT, and then @soveryanon was planning anyway to make this post soon so I decided to wait until she did bc I knew she would lay down all the touchpoints from canon.

So, all that! ^ We both p much share the same headcanons on this, but to babble on:

I firmly believe the Kudous are open/swingers/polyamorous, in general. (Hello Vermouth, Touichi, idk if Yukiko has managed to convince Eri bc it doesn't seem like Eri's thing but she would certainly love to, etc.) I know that canonically they fight or get jealous sometimes about the other flirting with other people, but look, first of all we can do what we want, secondly, that's not even a hard canon-incompatibility anyway, polyamorous relationships can have established rules and boundaries and (re)negotiations and their versions of cheating or jealousy too. Maybe Yukiko was just mad that one time bc Yuusaku had been hitting on an ex of hers while drunk, that doesn't mean they don't have threesomes all the time.

I think Akai is casually polyamorous, too. I know he canonically said that thing about not being able to love 2 women at once, bUT, bc the exact sentence in jpn is "二人の女を同時に愛せるほど器用な性分じゃ���いんでね", and 器用な means "skilled/skillful" and generally seems to be a very positive word. I like to take it as in Akai thinks it takes a lot of skill, you gotta be good to manage that.

~3+ years later and some practice with an experienced polyamorous couple he is now that good --

Alternately, since yes the original sentence is specifically about 2 women, you could make the joke that oh but 1 woman and 1 man at the same time is fair game tho. That'd be his sort of deadpan humour, I think.

Also and on the same sort of line of thinking: I have a lot of thoughts and feelings about Akai's emotions and love life. I can easily see him as happily and casually aroace who likes people and likes dating and likes having sex, as a way to connect and have intimacy with people. I also like to see him as a type of demiromantic that is just a total bleeding heart, who keeps falling in love the second he gets too close and knows it and knew he was gonna fall for Akemi for real if he did this seriously.

All this being said, I don't think he's in love with the Kudous, and vise versa. It's a casual, light-hearted, really nice and really affectionate thing stemming from genuine interest and respect, and there may well be flowers and candle-lit baths involved, and Yuusaku might instant-click with Akai nearly as well as Shinichi does, but it's not a romantic soulmates thing. It's just that in all my different possible views of Akai's love life, I think he just really likes people and having relationships (of any sort of manner) with people. (He's often characterised as a sullen loner but that is NOT true, he's surrounded with people constantly as Subaru, he chitchats easily with people, he visits the neighbour, he cooks for kids!!)

The absolute intimacy inherent to so much of the original set-up of "Subaru". The fact that Yukiko must be touching his face and hair all the time for the disguise, that this is how they met (since Akai doesn't seem to remember the beach incident).

That Yuusaku accepted to let his wife go every couple weeks to do this, multiple times, for a man he's never met, when Yukiko clearly came back GUSHING about the guy, when as I said above we know the teasing about checking out/flirting with other people is a big thing they squabble about -- that's so freaking huge, even keeping in mind that the canon prrrobably? isn't intending to hint that Yuusaku wouldn't mind his wife banging that younger man?

That Yuusaku DISGUISED AND ACTED as this man? whom he's apparently still never met at that point (could be a lie to Bourbon but who knows!!)?? but whom his son and wife really like??

The fact that Yuusaku wrote and published an entire thing about this man. Whom he's apparently never met. Just from hearing Yukiko (and maybe Shinichi? doubt.jpg) talk about him. Not only that, but wrote super fast considering the fucking timeline of DetCo lmao, and it was his first time writing a screenplay so Akai inspired him to do something entirely new, not something any of his editors would have been hounding him about (in fact, likely odds that his editors would have been screaming why and wanting him to do something else like a new book of his established series). And it was immediately picked up and made into a movie!!

And won an award!!

And Yuusaku skipped on attending that ceremony himself -- his first award for his first screenplay -- to go take huge risks helping out this guy instead.

A reminder that Yuusaku got involved in Black Org business involving protecting the lives of a FBI agent and also an infiltrated CIA agent by fucking with a member of the National Police Agency secret security of his own country.

For this guy he doesn't know but his son and his wife really like.

I'm going insane

(And then the aforementioned beach incident of Wizard of the Ripples gave us Akai and Yuusaku doing the adorable thing of two detectives solving the same thing at the same time with the same reasonings, which is always extremely shippy and gay. And THEN the two of them teaming up AGAINST CONAN. And and and.)

The setting also just. means it's all about domesticity and Akai's healing arc and living with a couple who've been together and married for nearly 2 decades and clearly still have intense sex multiple times a week, and live an insane and glamorous but also very cushy and tranquil life. That's just. So nice to give to poor beaten-up little meow meow Akai Shuuichi, and quite funny to give to weird polite funny lil grad student Okiya Subaru. We see him hanging out with Yukiko and Yuusaku wearing cozy sweaters and drinking tea. I want to see him sunning by a pool drinking margaritas with Yukiko and smoking with Yuusaku while nerding out about Holmes novels.

The fact that canonically Yukiko has been teaching him to cook??? That is so cute????? What???

Also this man likes strong and cool women and enjoys getting pegged, and Yukiko enjoys pegging, and Yuusaku loves watching his wife be cool and beautiful and have fun

I'M GOING INSANE THEY ARE SO MUCH AND IT'S ALL BACKGROUND OFFSCREEN AND THEY'RE SO FUNNY and conan must be suffering so much. MOM stop hitting on MY favourite adult!!!!

[potahun]

saw you reblogged a gifset about iori so i was curious about something …. do you have any thoughts on iori & kazami dynamic? iirc aoyama mentioned they were classmates at the academy, a year above furuya and others

thank you for the ask!! <3 I don't really, actually, I am SO curious about them and wish we could have their version of WPS, but I have no well-defined headcanons yet! only lots of wandering thoughts like "ah, were they dorm neighbours? how was kazami back in the days? were they friends to start with or did iori stay in his mind just because he was outperforming everyone? did one ever help the other in class? was there ever something they did together that was just 'their' thing, like a specific incident or a habit? how does iori view kazami?"

i want to know so badly!!!! gosho aoyama please drop their backstory TT i don't have defined ideas so if you do i'd be curious to hear them as well 👀

in the present day, i am hung up on the fact that (1) gosho aoyama deliberately made kazami identify iori as his former classmate, (2) iori knows enough about furuya's pre-NPA past to know that he's not clean from it, despite himself no longer being in the NPA (or at least that's the official version). that is just...weird to me. i can't help but think that if he deliberately told us this, then there must be some significance to kazami knowing iori (because we already knew iori was NPA even w/o that statement)...and what if it's really kazami who's the reason for iori's info on furuya TT For example, iori knowing that furuya is NPA through the top brass for xyz reason, finding that the one currently liaising with him in the PSB is his former classmate, arranging a coincidental meeting with kazami, getting him drunk for old time's sake and making him talk about his "boss" without mentioning names (because i don't think - and i want to believe this! - that kazami would ever reveal furuya's identity even to a classmate).

if iori really is a regular civilian, none of it adds up to me. so i feel like iori still has something up his sleeve regardless of how he got that info on furuya...like kuroda is officially no longer NPA but is still operating as furuya's boss, I think iori could be something similar (not officially NPA but still attached to it).

i don't like the idea of kazami being the information leak but who knows...(sorry this turned into a post about my side-eyeing of iori. i don't even think he's a villain, or anything, but it's so weird that he knows furuya's past....)

[maramontwrites]

Job Applications

The being is unlike anything I've ever seen before. They have a humanoid form, but with proportions that are too perfect for a normal human and multiple white wings sprouting from their back. A soft glow surrounds their body, pulsating in a steady rhythm. At first, I think that rhythm matches their breathing, but they don't seem to breathe at all. Their chest doesn't move with the glow. In fact, their entire body is perfectly still, despite their feet hovering above the ground.

I almost slam the door in their face. I must be dreaming, or maybe there was some weird mould in the microwave meal I've just eaten that makes me hallucinate. Whatever it is, this can't be real, but there's something about this being that makes me trust them, like an aura or something. It makes me feel calm. I know that the most logical action right now is close the door and hide in my bed till the hallucinations disappear, but I also want to stay and listen to what they have to say, so that’s what I do. What's the worst that could happen?

“Are you Skylar Verian, currently employed as cashier at Kila Supermarket?” the being asks. Their hollow voice echoes through the hallway, a sound that scares me and comforts me at the same time. The voice of someone who has something important to say. I wonder if the neighbours can hear it too. Their question does confirm my fears: this being is real. If they were made up by my mind, they would've known that I got fired from that job a week ago, which means I can't just run to my bed and hide. This being knows my name, my address and my last job. They could know anything about me.

“Yes, that's me”, I say, trying to keep my voice from shaking.

“We are contacting you regarding your application to the position of ‘God’. We have reviewed your application.”

It takes me a second to realise what they are referring to, but I do remember filling out that application. I was jobhunting in the middle of the night, after hearing that I soon wouldn't have a job anymore. I had already spent hours filling out every application for minimum wage jobs in my area, when I came across one that said to be looking for a new God. Motivated by sleep deprivation and alcohol, I applied. I don't even remember what I wrote, but apparently it was good enough to get a visit.

“You could've just sent an email”, I say, half joking. My rational thinking is trying to make sense of the situation. If it's not a hallucination, then it must be some sort of joke. There's no way an actual heavenly being is talking to me right now, just like there's no way an application for the position of ‘God’ posted on a random website is real.

“We are pleased to inform you that we want to offer you the job. Congratulations”, they say, ignoring my complaint. Those are words I've been waiting to hear for weeks, but I never imagined this was the situation I'd hear them in.

“You're joking, right? You can drop the act now. This can't be real.”

“We apologize if we've confused you, but we can assure you that we are speaking the truth.” They pull out a key from somewhere, or maybe materialize it out of nothing. “This is the key to the Heavenly Gates. If you choose to accept our offer, it will be yours, effective immediately.”

“What happened to the last God?” I ask. I'm not touching that key before I know everything that I need to know. I'm hoping that if I ask enough questions, they will eventually not be able to answer anymore, revealing that it was all a joke, although I'm not really convinced of that anymore. This is looking more and more real every second.

“They choose to leave the position.”

“Why?”

“We are afraid we cannot disclose that information.” Their voice doesn't betray any emotion and their body is still not moving. My plan to trip them up with hard questions isn't going to work like this.

“What do I have to do as God?”

“You will rule over the Heavens and Earth, including the angels, humans, animals, plants, and other living beings that exist in those places. How you choose to do that is completely up to you.”

“Why did you choose me?” I'm not exactly a devout person, and my resume doesn't look that good either. Multiple years of working minimum wage jobs is not really something that has prepared me for being God.

“We have reviewed your application and your resume. Based on the information given to us, we have made our decision.” It bothers me that I can't remember what I wrote in that application. It must've been really good, if they think I can rule over the Heavens and Earth based on that.

“Were there any other applicants?” Being the only applicant is the only explanation I can think of that makes even a little bit of sense, but even then they didn't have to give me the job by default if my application wasn’t good enough.

“We are afraid we cannot disclose that information either.”

I can't think of any other questions that I can ask. All of this is just really confusing and the more I think about it, the more it seems actually legit. This mysterious being is way too perfect and way too still to be a human actor. They've answered all my questions perfectly, without hesitating or messing up or even showing emotion. Even though I doubt that I'm the best candidate for this, the rest of their answers do make a little bit of sense. And then there's that key. I can feel the power coming off it, similar of that aura surrounding the being themself, but ten times more powerful. Something inside me wants to take it, just to see what would happen.

I've been quiet for too long. “Do you accept our offer?” the angel asks. They hold the key out, ready for me to take it.

“Can I think about it first?” It's not an easy choice to make. If I take their offer, there's a big chance I'll just mess up humanity even more, but that small chance of doing it right is what prevents me from declining immediately.

“Of course. We will be awaiting your answer.” They mean this very literally. When I close the door, I can still feel their presence before me, even though I can't see them anymore. More proof that this is all very real.

I walk around my appartement, trying to make sense of everything that just happened. I'm afraid of what will happen when I accept. Being God sounds so impossibly difficult. I'll have to rule over both the Heavens and the Earth, with all the people in it. That's a lot of people. Most of those people will be human and humans are commonly known for being very fragile, so easy to mess up. As much as my last job sucked, at least I wasn't responsible for billions of lives.

But is declining really a good idea? Not only do I not want to make any angels angry, I also don't want to lose a potential job. After all, this is the only job offer I got after applying to way too many jobs. I can choose to not be God and just live my life, but that life isn't that special. I am unemployed, live alone and eat microwave meals for dinner every day. Maybe, despite all the responsibility, being God will be better than this. At least I will live comfortably and if I don't like it, I can just quit, like the last God did.

I open the door again. The angel is still there, holding out the key in the exact same position as before, waiting for my answer.

I take the key.

[yourlocalaphrodisian]

Hi, it's me again.

Missed me? I know I've missed y'all <3 This has been a LOOOOONGGGG three years LMAO. Last I was here I was still a kid, but now I am, surprising even myself, an adult. Yes, ya boi is 18 as of September 24th.

But this isn't a personal blog, so I'd lay off on the personal stuff except for that I've had a shit ton of ups and downs in these three years and a lot has changed... Including my faith.

Religion, to me, has been a constant in life. From birth to this very day, I seek religion. I was born Muslim, grew up Muslim, but then fell away from Islam. That much I'm sure my old followers know. I leaned back on Hellenic Polytheism when Islam became inhospitable. I leaned back on what to me was the most important thing in life: Love. And that Love was Mother Aphrodite.

Love holds the world together. Humans are communal creatures. Love is at the centre of our existence, our society and our civilization. From Prometheus, from Adam, from Manu and from the first modern homo erectus — Humanity has relied on love. Love for oneself, which manifests as survival instinct. Love for one's family, which manifests as protectiveness. Love for one's neighbours, which manifests as community. And even Love for one's enemy, which manifests as diplomacy. Love is a great power. I might even go as far as to say Love is the only power.

Perhaps it was my monotheistic upbringing which made my praxis so centric on Aphrodite, and I acknowledge that many may have not shared that henotheistic view, of a supremacy over all other divine beings. Perhaps it was my reason, of my then childish brain, which made me put Aphrodite on a pedestal above all.

I still exalt Her greatness, and I miss her dearly.

No, I have not practiced in these three years. However, I have never felt safer going out of a religion than I have with with faith. I must give it that credit. So what pushed me away?

I'd promised I wouldn't turn this vent-y, but here I am, laying my heart bare to you all. But alas, this is a temple of Love, is it not? Hearts are to be laid bare.

I'd considered reason, I'd considered need. I rationed with all I had, tried to reason with myself the existence of a divine being. Perhaps it is my idea of divinity as a personal force rather than a universal one which drove me away. I am not immune to bias, alas.

But reason was often at war with me. I needed divinity, I needed religion. I needed a crutch to lean back on, to lay my problems at the feet of in sacrifice. I needed a God. Allah didn't fulfill that role, so I sought the old gods.

Old Gods of a nation which isn't mine. I'm Bengali, that much you must know. This feeling wasn't there when I first practiced, but as I've grown into a bigger age, though still relatively measly at 18, I felt the rift between me and the gods grow. I prayed to them in Greek or English, which always felt a bit odd on my Bengali tongue. I know, the Gods don't care about the language you use. But, again, it is my own bias acting against me.

So where do I stand now?

Nowhere. I wish I could say I've achieved anything, but really I've got nothing very fruitful out of these three years. I'm still me, but, I don't intend to come off as boastful, more mature, more introspective, more... Indifferent. I've grown into a rather nonchalant person. Nothing bothers me, or at least I don't think too much about it to let it bother me.

Another way to put it would be I've turned shallow. The differences of blood and bone faze me. It is a bit cruel to say this, and I do not intend any offence to anyone, but I cannot bring myself to pray to a white man's god.

Aphrodite isn't a white goddess. She originated in the Levant, and in my practice she retained her Levantine aspects. However, even so, it's become harder for me to connect. It's been painful, but I do, in some corner of my mind, believe that the Mother has given her baby Dove the chance to fly on his own.

So, do I believe in Aphrodite?

It's... Complicated. Currently I don't practice any religion, though you could call my beliefs Hindu to some degree. So I do not engage in worship, nor do I call myself religious. But do I believe in Aphrodite? Yes. A thousand times yes. I'd be a fool not to believe in her. I'd be stupid not to believe in Love. Cheesy as it sounds, you'd know what I mean if you read the ramble on Love earlier in this post.

So, will I continue to post, now that I've finally decided to pay Tumblr a visit? I'm not sure, to be fairly honest. We'll see what the Gods have in mind, but the chances are... I won't. Or at least, I don't think I'll be posting theological or votive posts. So while I don't want to call it a goodbye, I also don't want to potentially lie and say I'll be consistent. I genuinely do love this community, and I've made good friends from it. So what I can say is — I'll be here. If you need me, I'll be here. As a friend, as a listening ear. I'm still around, and life will be well.

So, in short. I've missed you all, and I continue to miss you. I've been absent, I can't promise to be present, but I'll be here as a roadside hermit of sorts.

Khairete <3

In other news, FREE PALESTINE 🇵🇸 FREE SYRIA 🇸🇾 FREE SUDAN 🇸🇩 and may all revolutions be in the people's favour, gods willing <3

[youremyheaven]

im a mess….my dog died….i got him as a puppy when i was 11….he would be 11 by January…

recently we found out he had a heart disease and he began to receive treatment but…he just died today 7th of august….he got into hospital but he was doing really bad…his lungs were filled with blood and he had a heart attack……

im heartbroken….i still can’t believe……i saw his de*d body in the vet but….i still can’t believe it….

omg baby 🥹🥹how are you holding up??? sending hugs your way 🫂🫂🫂🫂

i cant imagine what its like to have lost him after having grown up with him for a decade </33 the grief of losing a pet is so profound 😭😭

in this moment, the only consolation is that he went quick without suffering for too long, especially at his age 🥹🥹 may his soul rest in eternal peace

i think he might return to you as a spirit guardian because when we've spent that long with someone (and have a good relationship with them) they don't just vanish, their energy and good spirit remains with us and carries us throughout life. i know this journey is going to be a difficult one but he has moved to another realm but will continue to accompany you in spirit, protecting you and loving you as only he can<3 may you find solace in Spirit during this time.

he has left you but he has not gone. trust me.

my neighbour had a dog named Ruby. she was a labrador and getting quite old. after my neighbour got a new dog, she seemed to care less and less about Ruby and Ruby was basically out on the streets (I hope no one has to endure this fate, especially as Ruby was getting older and weaker) and Ruby had always been fond of my mom and I. She used to protect me from all the other dogs in the neighbourhood and used to walk with me if she saw me walking around 🥺she often ate at our house and we fed her happily. As our neighbour started neglecting her more and more, she spent most of her time on our property, by this point she was extremely sick and looked like it. Treating her would cost $$$$ which we couldn't spare at the time. But she spent all her last days with us and finally, one morning, my mom found that Ruby had passed away near the kitchen where she usually slept.

After having known her for 8years (she was much older but I dont know how much) she had become like a big sister to me because she was always so maternal and caring. Losing her was so hard. That year (2022) I knew I would lose someone I loved to death and I had been anticipating hearing news of someone's passing all year. Ruby passed away after Christmas and it was sooo shocking even though we knew she didn't have much longer. This year will mark the 2nd anniversary of her passing but I still feel her presence with me and I know she's guiding me as she always did. Her love, her warmth and her kindness lives in me and I know she's watching me from above, along with my ancestors.

please take as much time as you need to grieve but know that your dog will find his way back to you in ether <333

love,

Heaven

[aufi-creative-mind]

What would have lead to Hyrule being MORE then 10,000 years old in your timeline? Most states and cultures IRL don’t even last above several centuries at most, so I wonder what’s the reason for it’s epithet as the “Eternal Kingdom” as mentioned in one of your posts

So... the name "Eternal Kingdom" is mainly what other countries outside of the Hyrule's border called them. Since from their perspective, the Kingdom of Hyrule had a very long and unbroken rule over its lands for 10 000 years under the same name and same ruling royal family. With evidences that they do have some level of divinity to back them up.

As opposed to themselves who may have gone through cycles of change. For example, my version of Ordon - their own recorded history goes back at least 9000 years with multiple eras of different rulers, governance, disasters and significant events that shape them into their present-day state. These countries and their people don't essentially need to know Hyrule's origins and take it into account with how they view this ancient Kingdom. But as far as they are aware, Hyrule has always been there. Until the day of the Second Calamity and how that shattered Hyrule's 10K year long streak.

.

As for how old Hyrule actually is, I put an asterisk on the " 10 000 years* " since it's a bit vague and they didn't really give definite dates on when exactly certain events occurred and how far apart they happened from each other.

My interpretation of the BotW-TotK timeline is that the Founding of the Kingdom of Hyrule, the Imprisoning Wars and later the First Calamity happened WITHIN the Ancient Era of 10K. And the Age of Zonai along with precedessors of the Ancient Hyruleans existed for some time before the Kingdom's founding. (The exact number of years / dates lost or forgotten from historical records ).

At least from the standpoint of BotW/TotK's present-day. Since it happened so far back in time that its all mashed together into a blur.

Its implied that very little of recorded history from back then survived to present-day. Either because of written text being lost or destroyed, language drift (similar to how Ancient Egyptian hieroglyphs were misinterpreted/untranslatable for the longest time until the Rosetta Stone discovery in 1799) or they were forgotten from living memory. Or even a combination of all above.

TL;DR - the Kingdom of Hyrule is estimated to be 10 000-ish years old in the BotW-TotK timeline, based on in-game lore and history. And because of their extreme longevity, the Kingdom is sometimes called the "Eternal Kingdom" by their neighbours.

--

Lastly, this is a rule I give to myself when it comes to worldbuilding, whether it be with the Legend of Zelda or...any fictional world I play around with.

The fictional world and their lore does not essentially have to be realistic, to our real world standards. It only needs to be believable within the rules of their fantastical universe. (Quoted by me cuz I made that up, 05 Sept 2023)

What I mean by this is that, it is okay to take inspiration from real world history, culture and people when building up your stories and the world that it is set in. How realistic you want your worlds and stories to be is completely up to you. BUT it is not essential. You can be as fantastical and mind-blowing as you want in your world and stories. As long as it is believable to the reader / player.

Hyrule being 10 000(ish) years old is frankly mind-bending and almost eldritch to think about. And that's okay. You can accept that official canon or not. And let's be honest, Nintendo is not that well-known for their lore building in their games. And the canon Zelda timeline is already a mess to follow with.

(Also do check out Overly Sarcastic Productuon's video about BotW-Hyrule and its environmental storytelling (pre-TotK release). It has influenced how I interpret this specific version of Hyrule).

Personally, realism for me is more of a source of inspiration rather than a hard rule to how my worlds work. I build my worlds to be...places that I want to explore. With that feeling of exploration to immerse people into what this world is like and their in-universe lore adds layers that can excite the imagination.

And that's the beauty of worldbuilding. You can make the most fantastical world with magic, dragons and aliens, or the most realistic world based on real life but with mechas, dinosaurs and cowboys. Because why not!

The only limitation is your own imagination and how you build it up.

TL;DR - You can worldbuild the most realistic or fantastical world as much as you want. As long as it is believable to the reader that they too can imagine your world in their own imaginations.

[thessalian]

Thess vs the Borough Council

Well, indirectly "Thess vs a greedy-ass property management company", but I have to go through the borough council about it.

So for those of you who don't know, when I moved into this property lo these many years ago, one of the amenities described to me was a lovely little ... well, we call it a garden but it's actually more of a yard or a lawn ... at the back of the property, behind the parking lot. It's a nice place, and everyone in the building uses it to some degree. The kids in the neighbourhood play there. A few people exercise there. People have barbecues and parties out there. One family set off fireworks there a couple of times for New Year's and Guy Fawkes Day. It's also a space where some of the local wildlife roams around - foxes, squirrels, birds, that sort of thing. It's a nice space. I don't make much use of it because of my aversion to the Evil Daystar, but I enjoy watching it.

So I was not best pleased the other day when I saw a notice about someone requesting planning permission to build a couple of houses on our nice garden-lawn.

A little more backstory: while the individual flats are owned by either the person living in them or the landlord who rents them, the building itself, and the land on which the building is built, belongs to the owner of the freehold - the above mentioned greedy-ass property management company. Now, we don't like the property management company very much. They charge us monthly dues for maintenance, but getting them to actually maintain things - at least to a reasonable standard - is like pulling teeth. And their rules are somewhat draconian, specifically in the issue of things like not being allowed pets. I mean, given that I know at least two residents with dogs and at least two residents with cats, we're apparently entirely ignoring that one, but we'd like to have it official that we can have pets, and the management company will never allow it. So for all of that, we decided to try to buy the freehold.

Obviously the property management company doesn't like that idea. They tried an end-run around us at one point, but we did get around it, so we're still pushing for the option to buy the freehold. We're mostly thinking that the property management company said, "Okay, if I increase the value of this patch of land, they won't be able to buy it off us. I know! Let's build, like, a couple of little houses - each with like four flats in them, so two per floor - and kill two birds with one stone! We'll have more management fees from the new residents and the original residents won't be able to afford the new value of the land!"

But of course, they can't just decide, "Hey, I'm going to build houses" - they need planning permisson from the borough council. And the borough council, doing its due diligence, sent the plans to people most affected, so the people who live nearby, so that we can support the plans or object to them.

Thirty-five "FUCK OFF; NO" comments on the borough council website later, I think they're getting the message. As well as the above comments about how people enjoy the yard and chose to live there with the promise of that amenity, there's the effect on the local wildlife, the fact that it'll block the light away from the north-facing flats (which get little enough light as is, because ... well, north-facing), the proposed driveway's a fucking traffic hazard, and the months or potentially years it would take to build two smallish buildings on a pretty steep downgrade would be disruptive to the neighbours, particularly those of us who work from home.

I hope that's enough. I really do. it's an idiotic place to build anyway, and it would adversely affect the property. But ... you know ... money talks and all. So ... keep your fingers crossed, please. Consultation about it is happening on the 17th. I don't want two light-blocking buildings! Apart from all the other really good reasons to go "NO!", my plants get little enough light as it is!

[selfsabotaqe]

paying good $$$ for someone to let me play courtney eaton, davika hoorne, nicholas galitzine, jessica alexander, logan lerman, xavier serrano, greta onieogou, ayca aysin turan, kim doyeon, chase sui wonders, maia cotton, drew starkey, taylor zakhar perez, gracie abrams, lola tung & apo nattawin in a plot on discord. open to anything in terms of pairings and any slice of life plots, but there's some specific ideas down below 🥹

any generic mumu. looking to generally start with a maximum of four muses each, but i would love mumus with ships with intertwined plots. the floor of an apartment building? college friends? high school friend group getting together for a reunion? band on tour? travelers staying in the same hostel room? sports team with wags? go wild. specifically for mumus, i would prefer writing a variety of pairings including same sex couples, and writing (against) a mix of men, women and non binary muses. so i ask partners are open to writing a variety of muses in terms of gender and sexuality themselves. i'll always be down for m/f plots as well, but i am not interested in just doubling up for the sake of it.

any sports plots. rival athletes to lovers? teammates who hook up constantly (no homo) but are in denial about feeling more? athlete and the no nonsense journalist who makes their life hell, but they are kinda into it? athlete and their celebrity significant other, who could be a real couple or fake dating? athlete and assistant coach, or team medic, or pr manager? mumu with multiple plots within the same sports league or team? especially looking for soccer, formula one or hockey (because i know most about those) but open to other options.

enemies to lovers based on jake and amy from brooklyn nine nine. two coworkers stuck in a work performance rivalry that's slowly turning more and more romantic. lawyers trying to win cases? servers or bartenders trying to make the most tips?

any cliche hallmark holiday movie plots but add more to it. pretend to be my significant other for the holidays? i've been stuck in a snowstorm in this town/city away from home? i'm visiting my family far away from where i live and oh shit, there's a really hot local? i'm visiting my family in my home town for the holidays, and my childhood best friend is giving me butterflies? just give me cliches, give me one trying to teach the other how to ice skate, give me hot cocoa in front of the fire, give me hooking up in their childhood bedroom and trying to keep the noise down for the family downstairs.

give me any (modern) royalty au. heirs from rival countries being forced into marriage to form a political alliance? prince secretly hooking up with one of his guards? unknowing american traveling to this small european country where they by chance meet one of the royals?

enemies with benefits plots in any capacity. sports setting? academic rivals? neighbours who drive each other mad playing loud music too late at night? just these vibes.

potentially something based off this, but maybe combined with a "muse a thinks they're enemies while muse b has been flirting all along" plot. very open to make this m/m or f/f as well.

very legal (don't make it weird!!!!!) age gap plots where maybe for once they do think it's difficult. maybe they're at different places in their life? maybe one of them wants kids and the other doesn't? maybe they just moved in together and they're having a ton of fights? maybe they want something different out of their relationships? could also be combined with any of the above tbh.