#out of their way to emulate his personality. without realizing they are emulating one of the lamest fictional characters in existence.

[gokupowers]

feel like modern Dave writers/kins forget he's hussies self insert and written to be totally fucking lame in canon bc hussie was a 25 year old loser living in his parents basement making anti SJW rage comics at the time . dave strider is an awesome character but he is genuinely so fucking embarrassingly lame and a loser and it's a beautiful thing & we need to remember our roots #makedavelameagain

[zablife]

Earth Angel

Benny Cross x gf reader

Summary: After running from the one person who's ever truly loved him, Benny returns to see if you'll take him back, but there's a surprise waiting.

Warnings: language, pregnancy, angst but ends with fluff

A/N: A short imagine I couldn't stop thinking about. If you like it, pls let me know in all the usual ways. Comments are love 💕

No spoilers here!

Benny Cross Masterlist

Benny loved you. It had only ever been you. He knew that now that he was returning home as fast as his bike could carry him. The past six months he’d spent running from it were a mistake he deeply regretted and he only hoped you would forgive him.

If he was honest with himself, the unconditional love you’d shown scared him and he knew he’d eventually fuck it up, the way he always did. So he packed his shit and left in the night without explanation.

Afterward, you’d spent many hours crying for your lost love so when Johnny met him on the road, he relayed your sadness. The shame of it burned deep to Benny's core. It was only made worse by Johnny’s words of your continued devotion. “She still loves ya, kid…Always will.”

The chance meeting reminded him of your goodness, the nickname for you still on the tip of his tongue. Earth angel he'd always called you, a woman too good for this world. You deserved better than him, but if his presence made you happy, he would vow to try again.

That's how he found himself on the long stretch of highway toward home, eager to lay eyes on your beautiful face once more and see for himself if Johnny was right. Would you take him back? he wondered.

When his tired body pushed off his bike and out toward the back yard where you hung the laundry, he could hardly believe the sight that greeted him.

There you stood in the golden afternoon sunlight, hair piled atop your head and sundress flowing in the breeze. He called your name and you turned to face him, eyes wide with surprise.

His breath hitched as he caught sight of your swollen stomach, suddenly realizing all he’d missed in his long absence from home. Rushing to greet you, he swept you off your feet, a wide grin spreading across his face as you opened your arms to accept him.

“Careful, Benny!” you cried as he spun you in a circle, overcome with joy.

He placed you on the ground gently as a chuckle erupted from deep within his chest, a look of complete awe sparkling in his eyes.

Then as the adrenaline subsided, he pulled you close enough to nuzzle your neck, inhaling the floral notes of your perfume and the crisp clean cotton from the wash. One hand resting over your bump, he suddenly grew quiet, voice hushed as he asked, “Why didn’t you tell me, angel?”

You stroked the blonde curls at the nape of his neck as you shook your head sadly, “Didn’t have the chance.”

Benny raised his head to meet your gaze, tears in his eyes as thought of you scared and alone, “I would’ve never left you like this.” He let out a shaky breath as he added, “There isn’t a day I didn’t think about you, you know.”

With those words, you melted into his arms, head resting against his shoulder as you admitted, “I missed you too, baby. I’m glad you’re home.”

Hearing the sweet tone of your voice relaxed any lingering tension, his arms softening their grip. His large hand reached to cup your cheek, Benny’s blue eyes glistening as he begged for your forgiveness. “I mean it, I’m so sorry, angel.”

“You’re here now,” you told him, inhaling a deep breath which he emulated with steady resolve.

“And I’ll never leave you again,” he murmured, leaning in to seal his promise with a kiss.

[areyoudoingthis]

you're genuinely missing out if you don't read stede as having a funky superpower that protects him from the horrors of the world when he's being true to himself and deserts him when he tries to emulate the idea of a man the world wants to impose on him.

he defeats the badmintons without trying because they're bullies and they're just plain wrong all the time. they attack everything that makes stede lovely: his tender heart, his love of soft things, his beautiful body. they mock him and they hurt him and they die for it practically without stede having to lift a finger. the narrative avenges him.

he bewitches ed body and soul without realizing he's doing it, just by being himself, because he's funny and sweet and he gets ed's love for the bit and he's the first person who's happy to join in on his silly games. also because he's kind and generous and an absolute bitch, and because he makes ed feel safe to let down his armor around him, which is the thing ed wants most in the world. and so ed rescues him from the firing squad, because stede's unwittingly earned his devotion.

he turns the crew's opinions about him around in a few weeks by telling them bedtime stories and doing the voices for them without shame, like they're his kids. he comes up with fun activities for them, encourages them to talk about their feelings and offers to share his books with them (not his clothes tho. he's silly and oblivious and a spoiled only child after all). so by the time the british show up they've started thinking maybe things are better this way, maybe stede's showed them a better way of living (olu knew all along because he's soft and smart too), and they rally to defend him.

he defeats a much more skilled and experienced swordsman by thinking on his feet and being whimsical, throws izzy off his game by smacking him in the ass with his sword instead of stabbing him because he knows he can't win, so he comes up with a tactic that has the most chances of success for him in the moment.

he rescues the crew from zheng's ship by knowing about chamomile (sure, jan) and being the congenial towel guy. he rescues the crew and everyone else again from ricky and his goons by making them play dress up, and it works!!!! (minus that one exception, you know). he has the situation under control with ned's gang within minutes just by listening and paying attention to the way they feel about him and his treatment of them. he knows exactly what to say to turn them around, compliments hellkat maggie so deliciously because he's a charming bastard at all times.

but he's lost the magical protection of his whimsical stedeness by turning against himself by the time he's picking a fight with zheng. he's spinning with unresolved trauma and heartbroken and probably exhausted and hangover by the time she tries to poach olu, jim and archie, and then she insults ed (not cool, girl), so he lashes out. he's not defending or protecting anyone this time, not his crew nor ed nor himself. zheng isn't a bully or a villain, she hasn't attacked anyone, only accidentally hurt his feelings. he's lost sigh of the goal that's driven him since the beginning of season 1. there's no ed by his side and he isn't running towards him, he's not working to make a nice, safe world for the people he loves either.

he felt attacked by low the previous night for not measuring up to the ideal of a man and a pirate that's constantly being dangled in front of him, and he triggered his most painful memories by killing him the way he did and then refused to deal with them, chose to overcompensate and throw himself wholly into pursuing that ideal instead. and this is the price he has to pay: his crew wants to leave with zheng and she humiliates him in public and kicks his ass (very cool, girl). every trick he tries to pull fails, like a wizard that's been cut off from his magic.

it's not until he's reorganized his priorities the next morning and he's back to being stede that things turn around for him (but not until he's near ed again, zheng still has to rescue him from the two british soldiers he tries to ambush). and even then he's not a perfect fighter, can fend for himself but needs help to pull his sword out of that one guy so he can run towards ed. and it's so important that he needs help and that he gets it. it's been stede against the world his whole life, and now he finally has allies and friends and a lover who will support him and fight for him.

[noosayog]

wc: 700

warnings/content: reader uses she/her pronouns, university AU ft. Atsumu

part 1. directory here.

--

A light incessant tap on your door has evolved into a knock with the intensity of someone running from murder. Unlucky for the person on the other side of the door, no serial killer inspires enough altruism in you to take kindly to their knocking bloody murder at your door at -- you crack open one eye to glance at your phone -- 2:56 in the morning on finals week.

Your footsteps stomp heavily across the floor of your studio and you swing open the door without looking to see who it may be. If you were more awake, you'd scold yourself for the serious lack of awareness.

"What the fuck do you want," you growl at the figure.

In the hall, a tall, blonde man you’ve never seen before holds his hands up in surrender at your tone. He gives you a smile that would irk you if you could be more irate than you already are. He gives you an up and down which makes you bare your teeth at him and he drops the smile.

"I'm sorry to bother you-"

"You better be. What do you want."

His eyes dart down to your legs then back up again.

"Nothing," he says, starting to emulate some nerves in his voice. "I really am sorry because I actually don't need anything. I live down the hall and we're playing truth or dare and my friends dared me to come knock-"

You've heard enough and slam the door in his face.

--

The next morning, you wake up predictably grouchy. You're trudging down the hall to your last final of the year when the door on your left suddenly slams open and a familiar blonde-haired body barrels straight into you. Unable to withstand a wall of muscle multiplied by the force of his body slam, your body goes flying into the opposite wall and you crumple into the floor, vision going white.

"Oh shit," you hear someone mumble.

You feel someone roughly grab your arm to lift you up, but you tear your arm away, staying on the floor to snap out of your vertigo. You feel the arm let you go but the body the arm is attached to hovers over you, arms circling over your body as if he were a metal detector but the metal he's trying to find is bodily harm dealt to you.

"Are you okay?" the metal detector asks.

"What the fuck do you think, asshole?" you snap when you regain some semblance of motor function.

"Jeez, are you always this grumpy?"

You finally look at the offender to find the same man at your door earlier this morning. He grins at you, introducing himself as Miya Atsumu, as if introducing oneself is the natural course of action after giving the counterparty a damn near concussion. He offers you a hand, bright, sunny smile still plastered on.

You slap his hand away and stand up by yourself. After a quick assessment of your essential body functions, you conclude that you're probably alright. You muster up the nastiest glare you have in your arsenal of glares for different occasions and ignore him, continuing on your way.

"Hey, hey wait up," he says, running after you. "I wanted to apologize for last night."

"Apology accepted. Please leave me alone."

"Great then! What's your name? Maybe we can be friends since we're neighbors."

You don't dignify that with a response and instead propel your legs faster, practically running away from him.

He keeps up easily though. By the time you're on campus, your calves are burning, but the whole trek, Miya Atsumu has continued circling through his never-ending carousel of conversation topics, not even breaking a sweat.

Finally, at the university center, you make towards the left and he says, "I'm actually going this way. This was fun, neighbor! Your legs are more muscular than they look!" He flashes you a thumbs up. You sigh in relief, wondering why the fuck he's talking about how your legs look when you suddenly remember that you sleep in just a tank top and panties. You realize the weird ups and downs he was giving you last night were because you were practically naked. As if the day couldn't get any worse, you decide to visit the clinic to propose a lobotomy to forget the events of the past 12 hours (you actually just wanted some aspirin because you had a headache that had spiraled into serious nausea by the end of your final) only to find that you have a concussion.

[hermajestyimher]

How do I stop letting depression/anxiety control me and how I view myself? I’ve gotten better, but I just feel like my appearance has so much control over me. I am black, but I’ve just been so insecure of my nose and it being on the bigger side, especially compared to other black women (this isn’t to out them down or anything! I think they are absolutely beautiful people and I love them :D). I just feel like I’ve been dealt such a bad hand in life by being unattractive and that all my hardships especially with my relationship with others (romantic and platonic) just stem from me being/feeling unattractive and being a naturally awkward person doesn’t help. I constantly day dream about being a woman like Anok Yai or even someone with the sort of energy as Mia goth. I don’t want this to turn into some pity post, but I want to be able to be beautiful while also replacing this awkward personality of mines. This feels super childish and all over the place, but I just feel a little lost with myself and who I am.

So TLDR is: How do I become/start feeling attractive and become a more confident and charismatic person? Thank you and Im so sorry for the messiness of this post!

Hi my love, it sounds like you need to do a lot of self-concept work to change your internal dialogue and improve how you see yourself. It's essential to build a strong foundation of self-worth and confidence that isn't easily shaken by external influences. Here are some practical steps you can take to begin this transformative process:

1. Eliminate All Forms of Negative Stimuli

One of the first steps in enhancing your self-concept is eliminating the stimuli that contribute to self-doubt. This involves a thorough examination of what you consume daily, whether it’s media, people, or experiences. Start by unfollowing individuals and accounts on social media that make you feel inadequate or pressured to conform to unrealistic standards. Pay attention to how certain songs or films make you feel; if they perpetuate feelings of self-doubt or insecurity, consider removing them from your playlist.

It's crucial to be mindful of what you're feeding your mind. Often, we internalize negative messages without realizing it. These can come from people who appear close to us or through entertainment that subtly promotes insecurity. Perform a detailed assessment of who you’re listening to and determine if their influence is healthy. If not, create distance, whether that means unfollowing them online or spending less time with them in person. Surround yourself with people and content that uplift and inspire you rather than bring you down.

Pro Tip: Make a list of accounts, shows, and songs you consume regularly, and categorize them into “Positive,” “Neutral,” and “Negative.” Actively replace those in the “Negative” category with something positive.

2. Surround Yourself with Positive and Aspirational Content

After you've cleared out negative influences, it's time to replace them with content that uplifts and inspires you. Look for media and role models that align with your aspirations. This could mean following influencers who promote body positivity, self-love, or healthy lifestyles. Find women who embody the qualities you admire and whose lifestyles you aspire to emulate.

Comparison, when used wisely, can motivate us to strive for more. Instead of comparing yourself to others out of insecurity, use it as a tool for growth. Observe the habits, routines, and mindsets of those you admire, and learn from them. Incorporate their positive traits into your life in a way that feels authentic to you.

Additionally, consider expanding your social circle by engaging in environments where aspirational people frequent, such as networking events, workshops, or fitness classes. Being around people who have achieved what you’re aiming for can provide real-life inspiration and show you that your goals are attainable.

Pro Tip: Create a vision board or digital collage of people and things that inspire you. Include images, quotes, and achievements you aspire to. This visual reminder can be a powerful motivator.

3. Reprogram Your Mind with Positive Affirmations

Changing your internal dialogue is critical for improving your self-concept. One effective method is using subliminals and affirmations, which can help rewire your brain with positive messages. These techniques work by bypassing the conscious mind and directly influencing the subconscious, gradually replacing negative beliefs with empowering ones.

Find subliminal audios or affirmation tracks that resonate with you and your goals. For instance, if you're working on self-confidence, look for recordings that focus on self-assurance and self-love. I recommend listening to this one for about 30 minutes daily, ideally in the morning when you wake up or right before bedtime when your subconscious is most receptive. You can find a variety of these resources online, just be careful to read the comments before listening to ensure the affirmations are safe and vetted by others.

As you integrate these practices, remember that consistency is key. Regular exposure to positive affirmations will slowly build a new mindset, one that's more aligned with your true worth and potential. You can also use affirmations to help change your physical appearance as well.

Pro Tip: Write down a set of personal affirmations that resonate with you. Repeat them to yourself every morning and evening as a daily ritual. This practice will reinforce positive beliefs about yourself and your abilities.

4. Improve Your Physical Health

Taking care of your physical well-being is a vital aspect of boosting self-concept. Exercise regularly, not just for physical benefits but also for the mental and emotional gains that come with it. Engaging in physical activity releases endorphins, reduces stress, and builds self-discipline, all of which contribute to a stronger sense of self-worth.

Create a balanced workout routine that you enjoy and can stick to consistently. Whether it’s yoga, running, weightlifting, or dance, find what resonates with you and keeps you motivated. Pair this with a nutritious diet that fuels your body and mind, helping you feel energized and confident.

Remember, discipline in maintaining a healthy lifestyle not only improves your physical appearance but also enhances your mental resilience and self-discipline. These are foundational qualities that contribute to a greater sense of life satisfaction and fulfillment.

Pro Tip: Set realistic fitness goals and track your progress. Celebrate small victories along the way to stay motivated and recognize how far you’ve come.

5. Cultivate Self-Acceptance and Reject Self-Pity

Finally, the ultimate goal is to cultivate a mindset of self-acceptance and reject any form of self-pity. Pity is a toxic emotion that disempowers you and feeds into a cycle of negativity. Recognize that your worth is intrinsic and not solely dependent on external validation or appearance.

Understand that you have the power to transform your life through consistent effort and self-belief. Your value is not determined by how you look or by the opinions of others, but by your inherent qualities and the actions you take to improve yourself. Embrace the fact that you are wonderfully made, unique, and deserving of love and success.

Pro Tip: Practice gratitude daily by acknowledging your strengths and achievements. Keep a journal where you write down three things you are grateful for each day. This practice will shift your focus from self-criticism to self-appreciation.

Remember that the journey to a positive self-concept is ongoing and requires patience and commitment. As you embark on this path, know that you are not alone and that every step you take towards self-improvement brings you closer to becoming the best version of yourself. Keep your head up, stay true to your values, and be proud of the person you are becoming.

You are not lesser than anybody else; you are wonderfully made, and you should be glad to be who you are.

[emp-t-man]

episode 2 time yippeeee :3

i dunno if it was on purpose or if it was just an error on makayla’s part but hera pronouncing minkowski incorrectly is so silly to me. it’s the only time she does that in the whole podcast and it could be seen as her emulating eiffel because they’ve started to get along and then minkowski tearing into her for it so it doesn’t happen again or it could just be a mistake but. it’s silly.

eiffel is so incredibly monotone in these early episodes compared to the amount of personality his voice is known to have, ESPECIALLY during his announcement to the rest of the station. obviously a lot of it is just zach growing into the character and the voice but i also like to think that losing that monotonality is symbolic of him growing out of his more,,, nihilistic? i wanna say? approach to the whole situation as time goes on

i’d let minkowski throw me in the brig. the way she talks in this episode? i’m. god i love angry women

tiny detail but i love his delivery on “can you explain to these LOSERS—” he’s so unserious i love him

i NEED to know what was going through gabriel’s head when he made minkowski call him doug. i’ll probably have a definitive answer on this further into the relisten but i can’t tell if it’s her just being casual and trying to appeal to him as,, almost a friend? or if it’s a bitter thing, like how she refused to call lovelace “sir” until she had earned it. i’ll definitely have more to say on that later, but for now. hm

i would also like to know how many eiffel protocols there were, and for what scenarios minkowski could have possibly come up with him doing in order to make them—

I. HATE. THE LITTLE RADIO STATIC SOUND EFFECT THEY USE AS A TRANSITION IN THESE EARLY EPISODES. ITS LOUD, ITS UNNECESSARY, AND IT SCARES THE SHIT OUT OF ME I THANK GOD EVERY DAY THEY DID AWAY WITH IT

something something “could there be pain” something something masochism something something homosexual

SPEAKING OF PAIN. HILBERT SAYS SOMETHING ABOUT VAPORIZED BROMINE??? DO YALL KNOW HOW FUCKING PAINFUL IT IS WHEN BROMINE MAKES CONTACT WITH SKIN??? A LITTLE BIT OF PAIN MY ASS THAT SHIT CAN CAUSE PERMANENT SKIN LOSS

also?? i never realized that the fucking. klaxon thing that blares??? was specifically to prevent him from sleeping. that wasn’t a warning because the room was so cold, it was a method of sleep deprivation, that’s fucked up my god fhdbdb

another one of my favorite deliveries is “i THOUGHT i smelled MOLASSES. but then i DIDN’T get knocked out, so i dunno what THAT was about 😀”

i will never, EVER get over “when in doubt, whip it out” that’s the funniest thing gabriel has ever done /j

also there’s something about the way that eiffel pronounces minkowski’s name wrong when talking to or about her, but still has enough respect to call her “commander” half the time. it’s kind of a proof that he isn’t doing it maliciously, it’s simply a bit of banter that he thought was a joke between the two. but that also makes it more heartbreaking because he genuinely just. doesn’t realize the harm he’s doing. and refuses to listen every time she tries to bring it up.

the way that eiffel is so concerned over brushing his teeth this whole time when this motherfucker won’t even shower. like. your priorities are all over the place babygirl

BUT, speaking of that. i definitely don’t think it’s just about brushing his teeth. i’ve seen a lot of things about like. how ridiculous it is that he would go through all of that just for toothpaste? but listen. nothing in eiffel’s life up until this point had been something he’d had a choice in, at least not since the accident. even going on this MISSION wasn’t really a choice, when you consider the alternative was twenty-something years in prison as opposed to only a couple in space. being in charge of this situation, as dumb as it may sound, was the only thing left for him to BE in charge of. he finally had a SAY in something, and he was willing to go without sleep for over twenty four hours, live in minus forty degrees, starve for hours on end, and be entirely isolated just to make sure he could keep it that way, if just for a few more hours. and that’s devastating to me

this one is long as HELL but every time i listen to this thing i find more stuff i can connect in terms of later plot points and it’s so maddening that gabriel admitted to having no idea where he wanted to go at this point because he ended up tying it together SO WELL.

[lynn-tged-posting]

tged webtoon ep 158 spoilers and thoughts but mostly it's just me laughing my ass off and also speculating on what happens, im still working on the novel but ill finish it soon trust <- has like ten billion different things she wants to do at the same time

.

.

.

.

.

.

ARCOS AND MARBELLA IN THIS PANEL WAS ME FOR MOST IF NOT ALL OF THIS CHAPTER HELPPP LMFAOAOOO

javier you absolute fiend you ,,, you've learned so much,,, /aff

i figured that javier would tell them at least a semi-truth, or something like that to tide over the count/countess,,, their expressions here made me so worried for a moment,,,

LIKE THESE UUAGHGHHGHGHHHH that kind of anticipation is terrifying tbh like "has our son been dead this whole time, have we been living w someone else??" and the imminent grief looming over that thought i think got translated really well here the blank irises and the shadowed face im so ,,,, ueueueueueue

AND THEN TO GET HIT WITH THIS

HELP MEEEE HAHAHAHA BRAZEN JAVIER ROBOFACED JAVIER ITS REAL HES REAL LMFAOAOOOOO

OF ALL THE THINGS JAVIER COULD HAVE DONE TO GET OUT OF THIS SITUATION HE DECIDED TO EMULATE LLOYD I GIGGLED SO BAD I STARTED COUGHING

AND THE FULL COMMITMENT TOO TO THE BIT AND MAKING IT SEEM LIKE HE'S MORE FOULMOUTHED THAN HE LETS ON . AND SINCE JAVIER IS NORMALLY SO DEADPAN IT JUST. WORKS I GUESS HAHAHAHAHA THIS IS CRAZY

insane genuinely fucking insane i couldn't stop laughing HAHAHAHAA like this is completely absurd but the fact that it's coming from javier, someone who the count and countess completely trust at the moment, someone who's been by lloyd's side this whole time,,, PELASE HAHAHFHADHFDHSHAHA

the count and countess reacting too got me giggling a storm HAHA

also also early webtoon lloyd makes an appearance again i think it's really fun that the artist gives him the hairstyle from back then, before they changed his hairstyle heehee

oh his undershirt is also missing that X that's usually there in the current tged style too i didnt notice that at first but another little callback!!!

AND THEN JAVIER FINISHING OFF THE BIT WITH. SEPPUKU??? WHAT THE HELL ALDKFJLSDKJF ?!?!?!

I DONT EVEN KNOW WHAT TO SAY TO THIS LIKE HE DIDNT HAVE TO but i guess it did kind of knock the count/countess out of their stupor bc by seeing something so insane from javier they think javier rlly regrets giving lloyd BRAIN DAMAGE LAKJDFSHDF FUCKING BRAIN DAMAGE

i did see some ppl say that its kind of odd that they thank javier for this and thats fair yeah i dont think id be ok w finding out "oh one of my loved ones gave another one of my loved ones MEMORY LOSS"

but i think it could be that they're relieved to find out (or are inclined to believe) that their lloyd is "still alive" - he's just changed, not dead (except he is dead, so javier succeeded in fooling them without telling very severe lies)

honestly with how their expressions were they were probably expecting the worst, esp w all the evidence stacked against lloyd. can u imagine that despair, realizing that the person you've finally come to love is not the person you thought they were?? that the person you thought you had a second chance with, wasn't that person at all? i bet all those regrets were washing over the count and countess all at once,,, and then the relief that comes when it's revealed (when they're lead to believe) that no, it's the same person. this second chance was with the same lloyd, not someone else. that's still their son. oooooh imagine the relief, the realization that you don't have to mourn, you don't have to grieve for a death that happened under your nose

i think that's why they reacted this way, instead of worrying over javier wacking lloyd upside the head; like, what matters now is that lloyd frontera is alive (to them) and that both lloyd and javier have grown and changed themselves and the estate for the better. that the child and the knight they raised have a bright future and isn't that what any parent wants?

tho ofc they dont realize that their assumption is not the truth, but well they dont need to know that,,, for everyones sakes,,, nice play javier

when lloyd shows up and we saw this panel i thought we were gonna have a nice moment between the two of them where lloyd thanks javier for covering for him and hiding the truth but then-

THESE TWO FUCKING IDIOTS HAHAHAHAHAHA /AFF

I LOVE THEM SO MUCH THEYRE SO DEVIOUS HAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHA

and then lloyds conversation with the count/countess after PLEASE

yknow this is kind of like that bargaining strategy where you propose something completely absurd and crazy so that the other party says no, but then you offer your real request that is objectively tasking but the other party thinks of it as lesser than the former request so they'll grant it . whatever the heck that strat is called thats what this feels like HAHAHAHA

AND ARCOS TRYING TO LOOK OUT FOR LLOYD AND

AHFGSDLJKFSDGHH THRTHOWS UP

lloyd says "all i need is for you to stay healthy" and god that fucking. hurts ouw ouuuhhh owiee oww BUDDY U CAN HAVE BOTH U CAN PROTECT UR FAMILY WHILE ALSO RELYING ON THEM!!! LLOYD!!! LLLOOOYYYDDD

and yet of course this is smth that suho!lloyd would say ,,, he wasnt able to help his parents w their struggles back then but now he can and now it's all he wants to do ,,, i cant even explain how emo this exchange makes me i can't quite put it into words even after a whole day of sitting on this,,, especially after the events of 157 like lloyd im worried abt u!! he doesnt even realize he doesnt even realize the overwork the possible spiral that can come from trying to preserve this aghhh AAGGHHH

sorry for losing it anyways moving on, the title effects linking yippie!!! it was super fun seeing all the teams and all the people he's brought together,,, truly this was our greatest estate development /j

ALSO JAVIER BEING BY HIMSELF ON A TEAM LMFAOOOO "the team that does everything" HAHAHAHAHA

AND THEN AND THEN the last reveal of this episode THE KINGDOM OF HEAVEN HELLO!@?!?!??!@?!?@?!@! OH MY GOD

raphael looks a litte different here i could've sworn he was a turtle /j

BUT YEAH HOLY SHIT WOW i mean it makes sense, if theres a hell theres probably a heaven, and there was that line that javier said where he was like "alicia liking lloyd is more ridiculous than suho actually being an archangel" MAN I SHOULDA SEEN THIS COMING LMAO but im still excited to see where this goes

like the jewel of truth construction being ILLEGAL? what r they gonna do??? like,,, take the parts away?!?! how will lloyd avoid their like, divine punishment or whatever?? is it considered a crime to start mythical construction??? i wonder what their ruling will be

also the exiled student guy (forgot his name) and lupellan what r they up to will this interfere w them?? or with lloyd? a lot of stuff lined up oh GOD lmao

anyways thats all for right now, as always i yap more on my twitter if youd like to see more shenanigans from me, see yall next week!! !!!!

[antlered-angel]

CW: Gore, Disturbing Imagery, graphic descriptions of violence

Disclaimer: this is for fun! I’m not doing this to “fix” the stories or designs, these are mostly headcanons of mine. Please don’t be racist in the comments because I make certain characters POC. I promise it’s just a headcanon, it won’t hurt you.

My most favorite design, here’s Nina the Killer. The Killer trio is officially complete!

I imagine Nina being 20 years old and one of the tallest of the creepypasta just behind Helen. She is Hispanic and Latina, ace and bi, and goes by she/they. She has ADHD and tends to fidget a lot. Nina is a ball of enthusiastic energy. Out of all the redesigns, Nina is probably the farthest from her original design. I based it heavily off of 2000s emo and scene looks. I like to think that she loooooves pink and can’t have an outfit without it. I changed her weapon to a shard of glass as a reference to her cutting her face open with one in her story. Her eyes are also dry and bloodshot but she still has her eyelids as they were simply stitched open as opposed to Jeff burning his off.

Nina developed lots of hobbies over the years. Nina loves music and is a huge fan of Avril Lavigne, her favorite song being Girlfriend. She plays guitar and she dreams of being in a band. She’s a hopeless romantic and dreams of a perfect love, and she’s good at seeing when other people are in love. She loves to read YA novels for this reason and bonds with Jane over the Twilight series (she’s also Team Alice). Their relationship started out a bit rocky at first, understandably, and Nina is thankful that Jane was willing to have a friendship with her despite her past. Nina lowkey has a crush on Jane but doesn’t think she has a chance due to her previous obsession with Jeff. Nina has grown from her infatuation with Jeff over the years, realizing that glorifying and romanticizing his actions has only caused pain. Despite her minimal scarring compared to the other two killers, Nina still lit herself on fire and carved a smile in her cheeks in an attempt to emulate him. She committed murder, even if it was against those who tormented her and the people she cared about. Nina attempted to cauterize her cheek slashes shut and while it didn’t work, it set off her personal journey of self reflection. She developed her own style and cultivated new relationships. Jane seems to have a soft spot for her and the two bond over mutual interests and how both were fucked over by Jeff in some way.

[blueskiesrry]

2024 writing evaluation :)

thank you lizzzz for tagging me

1. Number of stories posted to AO3: 5!!!

2. Word count posted for the year: 199,325

3. Fandoms I wrote for: One Direction

4. Pairings: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson

5. Story with the most:

Kudos: everything of mine is yours

Bookmarks: everything of mine is yours

Comments: where we landed

6. Work I’m most proud of (and why): I'm most proud of everything of mine is yours because it really was just written purely based on what i wanted to write and was full of self indulgence. the writing style is one that i'm always trying to somehow replicate with my other works.

7. Work I’m least proud of (and why): to be honest, i'm not entirely sure. i wish i would've put more time into if we were butterflies but i wouldn't say i'm not proud of it. i love beige as well but there was hardly any thought put into it so maybe that's the one i'm least proud of. but not bc i don't love it haha

8. Share or describe a favorite review you received: any time i get a comment about a reread or someone going to read my other fics because they liked one of them is a different kind of special to me. to be specific though, i got a comment on where we landed from the person who submitted the prompt, and i still go back and read it when i'm struggling with writing. just know if you've ever left a comment or sent me a message about my fics, even if it's the smallest thing, i've held it close.

9. A time when writing was really, really hard: i found writing hard in late spring through the summer. i went really hard the first few months of the year (wrote four fics by may 😃) and i think it burnt me out a bit. there were some things i started and put to the side when i realized i was forcing myself to write them even though they weren't going how i wanted. this is the first year i've been serious and disciplined with my writing so i'm taking that as a learning experience.

10. A scene or character you wrote that surprised you: there is a scene in you, in every color where louis and harry have their first disagreement of the fic that acts as a sort of indication that things are getting rocky, and it was surprising to me how difficult it was to get right. i ended up writing it a few times before i finally felt like in emulated what i was going for. the first draft was a large screaming match which ultimately didn't feel right for the characters.

11. A favorite excerpt of your writing: oh boy, i'm just going to post the first one i can think of lolol. i have nothing to say about it. this is from if we were butterflies

There’s many times in an artist’s life when they must decide whether to savor the moment with their eyes or in their art. To watch a sunset sky turn from purple to pink or to dip a brush in watercolor paint. To snap the picture of a lover lying in the moonlight or to lie with them across cool sheets. To put the pencil down when Harry parts his lips, Louis’ name on his tongue, or to capture his expression forever. “Lou,” Harry says in a voice he’s never heard before, hands shaking in his lap. Louis’ gaze snaps to his, and he must decide—to keep this to himself or to never go another day without the reminder of exactly how Harry is looking at him. And any other time it would feel easy. If it was anyone else, there might be the promise of another moment. But now? With Harry, here, like this, and so, so beautiful?

12. How did you grow as a writer this year: as i said above, this is the first year i've been intentional with my writing, so i think i grew in a lot of ways. most notably, i learned how to outline in a way that works for me which has been HUGE in actually finishing projects. i also learned that writing scenes in order is a lot easier for me and makes it more likely that i'll finish something.

13. How do you hope to grow next year: i'd like to get better at editing. i kind of despise editing after the first read through which leads to sloppiness. i'd like to do better at being intentional with editing and keeping an eye out for specific things.

14. Who was your greatest positive influence this year as a writer (could be another writer or beta or cheerleader or muse etc etc): this is also the first year that i've really had writer friends who i can talk about writing with so everyone that i've done this with has been a huge influence. specificallyyyyyy though, @harruandlou ofc. i've learned a lot from her about the technical side of writing from plotting to editing and everything in between. and obvs she's been incredible in putting up with my whining and scattered ideas during beta reading 🙂‍↕️

15. Anything from your real life show up in your writing this year: always. the first one i can think of is the place in chicago that harry goes in eomiy are places i also went for a conference during undergrad. i'm always pulling things from real life though, i couldn't possibly tell you all of them.

16. Any new wisdom you can share with other writers: know your characters before anything else. while plot is important, people will come for the plot but stay for the characters so make sure you know exactly who they are, where they came from, and where they're going. i promise you it will make all the difference in how real your writing feels.

17. Any projects you’re looking forward to starting (or finishing) in the new year: i recently finished writing my longest (!!!!!) fic yet (over 100k!!!!) that will come out soon into the new year. i'm looking forward to finishing up editing and sharing it with everyone :) i also do have some things planned that i can't wait to get started on!

18. Tag some writers whose answers you’d like to read.

ik you may have already been tagged but @petitommo @wishingforloushair @28goldens @insightfulinsomniac @louieshalo

[donkeys-waffles]

(WARNING SPOILERS FOR CHAPTER 425.)

Just casually thinking about how "Creep" from Radiohead is so AFO and Izuku coded. Just separately, both characters emulate the feelings behind this song. "Creep" is a very self-deprecating song, with deep devotion to another person, referring to this other person as an angel, as something that is 'perfect' in comparison to how they refer to themselves as a 'creep'.

This part I'll be talking about Izuku, next I'll talk about AFO.

We've seen the discrimination Izuku has experienced from being quirkless, the isolation, neglect, verbal and physical abuse.

He mentions that this was the moment he realized that not all people are created equal. It speaks volumes of his character and how he views himself, like he's the main problem of this equation. As if in some way it's his fault for being born without a quirk so it's natural for others to treat him with discrimination. There's not enough righteous fury in this recap.

Everyone, every important figure in his life has told him to be realistic, his mother apologized for him being quirkless as if it was a disease, (I love both her and All Might don't get me wrong here, I can understand their reasonings, but that doesn't take away the impact of what was said.) and both his childhood friend and idol crushed his dreams.

It reminds me of these lyrics from "Creep"

"I wish I was special You're so fuckin' special

But I'm a creep I'm a weirdo What the hell am I doin' here? I don't belong here"

I also wanna add this fun little tidbit for the "But I'm a creep," section,

So many times has his mumbling been a source of discomfort for people, so much so that Bakugou felt the need to have an outburst each time he did it in the beginning of the manga. Makes it even funnier knowing it's about quirks.

The last two lines remind me a lot of Izuku's mentality in the early chapters, during the sports festival and the first appearance of the League of Villains we see a lot of Izuku feeling completely useless. We also see Izuku degrading his own accomplishments, giving the credit to All Might, Gran Torino, or his other classmates. Despite, him earning OFA because of his heroic spirit he views himself as a burden.

I feel like the line "I don't belong here" is emulated in so many ways, you can easily argue that his vigilante arch could emulate this, but I really think that his resolve for being quirkless again is what takes the cake for me.

Of course, he's not too heartbroken by it if he never felt he deserved it anyway. He always viewed it as a gift (not something he earned the right to), we see this with Shigaraki and even Aoyama. That's his line of empathy with them, he views himself as fortunate to be given the opportunity he has, while they suffered a worse fate by hands that wanted to use them. Here are some other honorable mentions when it comes to this idea. (Even though Izuku isn't very lucky either, he's also been used as a weapon in two wars at 16 but that's beside the point.)

And many, many others really, let's be honest. It's one of the first things I noticed about Izuku's character that I feel never truly got resolved.

"I don't care if it hurts I wanna have control I want a perfect body I want a perfect soul I want you to notice When I'm not around"

The first two lines emulate a lot of Izuku's lack of self-preservation.

The first picture illustrates the sacrifices he's made saving others despite it shattering his bones. The second is him grabbing Tomura's hands despite decay and losing his arms.

Lines 3 and 4, as well as

"You're just like an angel Your skin makes me cry You float like a feather In a beautiful world"

Emulates how he views All Might and Bakugou throughout the manga,

All Might is always shown as this unstoppable force for a big chunk of the manga, we can see it in the season 1 anime opening when All Might is standing with his back to Izuku, a light silhouetting him with Izuku reaching his hand out to him. As if he's this unattainable picture of heroism, furthering the lyrics of "I don't belong here," "You're just like an angel" and "You're so fucking special."

Now for Bakugou, which my main examples come from early in the manga of course.

"As you've said, I had nothing going for me."

"I could admire All Might from a distance, but you were right there. This amazing person in my life."

I think this just illustrates my point. He considered them both pillars of strength. (I wouldn't say that has changed with All Might despite him being retired, even though All Might is admired, and cherished, now he's viewed as more human. Which is so sweet.)

"I want you to notice me when I'm not around"

Is also, very Izuku coded, considering his history with being bullied. Looking back to the beginning of my spiel, we see a lot of bullying taking place in the classroom with teachers that could've reported Bakugou's aggressive behavior. A lot of adults failed Izuku, they turned a blind eye to the obvious abuse happening right in front of them. And that's made even worse if you consider whether Inko knew of the abuse herself. There was negligence in the system on Izuku's behalf, that's made clear. Also considering his first friends (in a decade,), and his extreme anxiety surrounding Ochako and Iida when he first met them. But it also makes me think of this recent panel

It really hurts looking at these panels, because he's clearing wanting to talk with them and they're brushing him off. He wants to be noticed here, he wants to reach out to them and have friends to confide in. And Ochako just talks about his hair and brushes him off, while Todoroki does the same thing.

It just makes me sad considering his history, he probably thinks it's because he's going to be quirkless again. And the saddest thing is Izuku wouldn't blame them, he wouldn't feel the anger he's entitled to, because again I don't believe he feels deserving of living the dream he had. With it all disappearing with his quirk feels natural to him when it shouldn't. Bringing us back the beginning of this self-deprecating song and cycle in Izuku's life.

[roboj0e]

I watched the begins≠youth show a couple days ago. I was too busy to talk about it but now I have down time and kind wanna go over some stuff. (I pirated it for the boycott obviously and bc the platform Hybe released it on is ass backwards and weird)

I was kinda concerned that I wouldn't get emotionally invested with the story without BTS there but I really liked it so far. It hits the emotional beats really well. The actors are really good and do a good job bringing their own individuality into their performance while also emulating some mannerism of their respective members character. Enough that I'm reminded of BTS but not too much that makes it feel weird or uncanny.

They changed some things but not too much so far. I think the way the BTUniverse was presented made it much easier to adapt it into a series. But also made it so some characters are just too devoid of their respective members personality. Such as Dogeon. He doesn't feel like Namjoon to me and his actor doesnt resemble him at all I feel like the other actors even just slightly resemble the members but not him and I really don't like it. But What we know of all their characters is only their adult selves after what happens in high school tho so I forgive it but he's the only one I had trouble really vibing with bc of that.

I don't know if theyre gonna include the supernatural elements into the show it seems like it might be a crime drama murder mystery where they deal with extenuating circumstances of their daily lives while investigating the past and how they may be connected with each other. Their was a lot more emphasis placed on yoongi mothers death and what may have lead to it than in the original BTU.

I like the direction but I would have loved the supernatural elements more than just another murder mystery HS drama.

Jins character (hwan) really pissed me off at first but it was intentional ofc. The actor does a good job. His character is quiet and contemplative but cute when he wants to be. Loved the moments between his character and Namjoons (Dogeon) I'ma namjonist at heart and BTU was giving namjin hard ASF.

The actor for hobis character (hosu) is a master at emulating his mannerisms and even the inflection in his voice and his dialect. It was amazing how I immediately knew who he was while I kinda struggled for the other characters until I realized they still had the same last names as the BTS members 💀. Hes cute and acts as a mediator for the group like jhope sometimes does irl. The actor does a good job of balancing hobis sunny personality and his quiet suffering with his trauma and disorder. I think his narcolepsy might still be munchausen's disorder like in the og.

The actor for taehyungs character (jooan) really matched his carefree and playful nature of both his character and taehyung. His smile and facial expressions really remind me of taehyung. He reminds me of how tae portrayed his character in hwarang. They took away his sister so idk if tae(jooan) killing his dad is gonna be something that happens since his sister's abuse was the motivator for it. Again I think it's bc they may have taken away the supernatural time travel elements.

I was worried about yoongis character (cein). I was really hoping they didn't portray him as one dimensional. Just angsty sleepy and quiet. The same way some army's portray yoongi in fanfics sometimes. But I like that they included how cute loud and mischievous he can be with bursts of energy. How reliable and loyal he is. How he cares for ppl with actions instead of words. I think Cein's personality resembled yoongis the most out of any other character and their respective member. The one thing I ABSOLUTELY hated was the implication that yoongi or his character would be uncomfortable with queerness even as a joke. Mr tongue technology himself?? I don't think so. They can miss me with that bullshit.

Haru being a unisex name just like Jimin is so cute. I like Jimins character his actor is really good and nailing the more serious scenes. His story along with yoongis(Cein) was the most compelling to me so far. I like how his trauma is portrayed and even the stigma around it. I like how they put him in charge of the decorations and cake for Cein's birthday like Jimin used to do irl before the company sorta took that over. I don't remember Jimin(haru) having an older brother but fuck him and his mom and dad.

Like I said before Joons character (Dogeon) bothered me the most. He's poor and sad and that's really all there is to him rn and it kinda sucks. The actor doesn't remind me of namjoon at all. His performance is good but the writing for the character is just a bit weak. They also make him more law abiding than he was in the BTU. He acts as a voice of reason to tehyungs (jooan) mischief but I don't really remember him being like that. But again the BTU didn't explore their highschool days THAT much.

Jungkook character (jeha) is adorable. the actor is a minor so I hope ppl take that into account when talking about him and his character. His home life isn't as bad as it was portrayed in the BTU but I think the abuse he faces will obviously escalate. I like the dimension they added to his character. I'm ready to see where this goes for him.

I screamed when I saw Jung sungil as jins(hwan) dad. Very good choice. I loved him in the glory but I'm so prepared to see him as a villain. Also the actors from beyond evil playing jungkooks(jeha) older brother.

Very interested to see where this trail goes with yoongis(Cein's) mom. If Hwans dad did actually SA her and what lead to her death. I was surprised they included that detail. I also have a feeling that Hwan's dads weied issue with Hwan having friends may have something to do with Cein's mom.

There also seems to be a culminating revelation of how the boys were involved in Cein's mom death. They kept showing flashbacks of each boy when some building exploded. I thought it was yoongis suicide in BTU but then they showed both where Cein was during the explosion so it was some other fire and not the fire that namjoon dies in (didn't relaize how many fire related deaths was in the BTU) bc I believe that takes place later when they're older and if they changed that fire to fit the lack of super natural elements then it still wouldn't fit bc jooan doesn't know who Cein is at the time of the explosion. So it must be the fire yoongis mom dies in if not then idk.

Honestly just really looking forward to seeing where this all leads especially if they've excluded the time traveling.

The show also gave me this weird sense of sad nostalgia for hyyh Bangtan. I cried a little seeing them interacted with such simplicity especially Cein's bday scenes bc I was just heavily reminded of BTS and really miss them.

[velvetvexations]

why are so mamy trans ppl on this site robotfuckers/technophiles and why am i becoming one of them

Well, for me it's totally different than for most. I fell in love with Dorothy from The Big O because of her extremely flat, monotone speech, and her expression completely lacking a trace of emotion, like a Vulcan. The idea of having power over a robot like that, who truly feels nothing but a desire to serve you, is intoxicating for me.

I commissioned a small story from a writer a few years ago. They became a vtuber and as far as I know they haven't done writing commissions since, so I'll hold off on naming them for now and will ask them if they want credit for it.

warning:

This is not really non-con but it explores the idea of a semi-sapient fuckdoll that has no will beyond yours, and idk, it's not great, morally, and might remind you of worse.

Her Quiet Eyes

Sure, she had cost a lot, but shipping had been the real killer. But the months of saved paychecks had been worth it. Your very own Realifigure had arrived that day. The setup had been surprisingly simple; she was already pre-programmed with the right personality routines. There were just a few firmware updates to install. Good thing the charging case she came in had an ethernet port.

Before long, R.Dorothy Wayneright’s eyes were open, and she stood up out of her box in the middle of your living room in her iconic pitch-black dress and white neck lace. Real, alive. Or at least as close to real as a character from a cult classic anime could get. Realifigures were the next step in ultra-exclusive, ultra-expensive collector’s items for the discerning weeaboo. Life-sized figures (robots, really) made to be as close as possible to the character they were designed to emulate. Even the black band in her blood-red hair could pop open up like a disc drive just like in the show, even though there was absolutely no use for it at all.

“Hello,” she said simply. There wasn’t a hint of emotion to her voice. No excitement, no happiness at meeting her new partner for the first time. You almost thought you messed some part of the installation up and flip through the manual, until a ‘character specifics’ section reminds you that really is just the way Dorothy acts. Which isn’t wrong. Sure she might have opened up to Roger more over the course of the show’s twenty-six episodes and displayed more emotion over time but that cold, occasionally sarcastic, demeanor never really left and that’s part of what makes her so dang cute in the first place so-

Dorothy stood there, staring. Oh. How long were you lost in thought?

“Ah, hi.”

“You are my partner, correct?”

‘Partner’ was the proper term. Something like ‘master’ or ‘owner’ just wasn’t very advertising-friendly, unless it was a specific character’s gimmick to call their partner that. “Yeah. That’s right.” You held out a shaky hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Dorothy.”

She looked at the hand for a second, then took it in hers, briefly. “You as well.” She didn’t sound like she meant it. Pitch black eyes smoothly looked to the left, then the right. You followed her gaze and realized just how much of an awful mess your apartment was. You hadn’t tidied up any of the cardboard and the packaging Dorothy had been inside just mere hours ago. And that was on top of the littered clothes, the pizza boxes, the trash overflowing with garbage takeout.

“I am programmed with a wide variety of cleanliness routines.” Dorothy stated simply. It was hard not to read her neutral expression as judgemental.

“No, uh, that’s okay. I can do that myself. I was actually wondering if you would like to… go out? Like, on a date.”

“Yes.”

She said it without any hesitation, something that took you by surprise despite her completely flat tone. You have to remind yourself to not get too crazy about her. It’s just her programming. There wouldn’t be any point to the Realifigure line if they didn’t do whatever their partner said, regardless of outward personality. You asked her to wait in the living room while you went to change in yours. And it’s only then you start to realize how poorly thought out your whole plan was. You don’t really have any good clothes, not good enough for dating anyways. You haven’t dated since… actually, you prefer not to think about it. You did manage to find a button-up in plain, somewhat ill-fitting white. Better than nothing. You tuck it into a fresh pair of jeans and join Dorothy back outside. She quietly joined you for the evening you had made up on the spot because you hadn’t actually planned it out at all. But dinner and movie are as classic as it gets, right?

It went smoothly. Relatively. You kept asking why Dorothy didn’t touch any of her food and she kept reminding you in the same neutral (condescending?) tone that she has no need to eat. She cannot digest, she has no sense of taste. Of course that makes sense, but it wasn’t a realistic experience. Or wait, it was, wasn’t it. She was a robot, after all. Both literally and as the character she was modeled on. It was all a little more confusing than you expected, but it’s also enticing, in a strange way that you can’t quite put your finger on. If you had just wanted a sexdoll that was all looks, you wouldn’t have spent so much on something that came with a personality, that was so realistically-made people would be more likely to mistake her for a cosplayer than a machine.

“What did you think of the movie?”

“It was interesting.”

You blinked. That was the most emotive response you had received from her all night. The film had been some indie thing from France. Totally in black and white, only subtitles. You had thought it was appropriate because of Dorothy’s source material. Maybe it had sparked something in her programming. “What was interesting about it?”

“The cinematography. The use of outdated filming techniques. It was an ‘artistic choice,’ correct?”

You shrugged. “I guess so.” Dorothy didn’t say anything else, and you felt kind of stupid. Should you have tried to say something smart? Dorothy probably had every piece of knowledge stored away inside her electronic brain, so it’s not like you could have just made something up to look that way. Maybe it was better to look clueless than stupid. And that just leads you into thinking about how dumb it is to even care. It’s not like she’s real. Just a personality program running through its pre-packaged reactions and responses. No matter how realistic she is. No matter how sure you are that you could feel her rust-red hair, or her milky synthetic skin, and not be able to tell the difference. The walk home is spent in silence. Dorothy kept her hands laid on top of each other on the front of her dress. You didn’t know what to do with yours and shoved them in your pockets instead.

Back at your apartment, you have a difficult time deciding what to do next. This is all more difficult than you had thought it would be. Dorothy was literally your property, not a real person, a construct running a limited program, not capable of true emotion. But it still felt wrong to issue commands to her, to tell her to get right to the sex. Maybe that’s the uncanny valley, or whatever. She looked too human to not treat as a human.

Instead, you decide to pour drinks. You don’t exactly keep high quality liquor, but you did have some cheap box wine lying around from a recent get together with a few friends, and that should do a good enough job. It’s not like Dorothy could tell the difference, or that she would care if she could. When you returned from the kitchen to offer her the drink, you nearly dropped it instead. Dorothy stood there, almost entirely undressed. Your eyes traced her mostly naked body down to the floor where her dress laid pooled like an inky black puddle.

The Big O was not an anime chock full of lewd fanservice, so Dorothy’s designers had taken some liberties when it came to her underwear. It was all very old fashioned, you would have thought of it as Victorian or something; a lacy white bra, bloomers that puffed outward, and a velvet-y corset that didn’t seem to be tied so tight it would cause discomfort, if she could even feel discomfort.

“This is what you want, isn’t it?” Dorothy stepped closer. Very close. The plastic wine glasses shook in your hand. “I can’t do anything with a drink, you know. There is no need to ‘wine and dine’ me.”

“Ah, it’s just…”

She took your hand and carefully unwrapped it from the glass. She took it and placed it on the coffee table behind her. Then she put her hand back in yours and started to, gently, tug in the direction of your bedroom. “Come with me.” You obliged her.

Dorothy helped you undress. Shirt, followed by shoes, followed by pants. Soon the two of you were on top of your bed, Dorothy on her back. Cautiously, you helped her remove the corset, the bloomers and, shakily, the bra. It gave you a chance to witness every delicate curve of her body. Her softly tapered waist. Her pert breasts. You had been right before; it really was impossible to tell the difference. She lounged on your bed, expression unwavering, until you slid yourself on top of her. She didn’t move an inch.

“Are you, ah, ready?”

“Are you?”

There was that vague sense of condescension again. “I, yeah, I think so.” Dorothy simply nodded. And waited. You took a dry swallow, mustered up that last bit of courage you needed, and pushed yourself forward. Dorothy didn’t react when you entered her, but other she felt… perfect. Not too tight, not too loose, just the right amount of grip. Just making that contact for the first time made your back arch and forced the breath out of you. She was anatomically correct, after all. Right down to the clear, slick lubrication. But Dorothy still didn’t move, even when you did.

“Does it feel good?” You asked, hesitant.

“No.”

You stopped. “No?”

“No. I do not feel.” Dorothy moved for the first time since you had started. Her hands slowly raised up and cupped your cheeks. “But if you feel good, then I am content. Please enjoy yourself.”

It was encouragement, even if it was a little weird and delivered in that same bored tone that didn’t change on iota no matter what the context was. Of course she didn’t feel it. Maybe some Realifigures would be programmed to respond like they did, but not one like Dorothy. Not frank, brutally honest Dorothy. And it actually worked. You started to let yourself take control, and the nervousness slipped away. And as you started to move faster, to breathe harder, you felt Dorothy’s small, delicate hands move around the sides of your head to wrap around and pull you in closer until your head rested in her chest. Your hands moved too, slowly upwards from Dorothy’s slim hips. They wanted to feel every inch of that smooth synthskin, to wrap around the sides of her waist, to grasp at her squeeze her perfectly rounded buttocks. You could feel the small of her back and the little ridges of her spine and her slim arms and her pale breasts. All the while Dorothy doesn’t move at all, not any movement that isn’t caused by the physics of your own pelvis pushing against hers and then pulling back out in a rapidly hastening rhythm.

Occasionally Dorothy would mutter something; some encouragement or brief words that would indicate pleasure if not for her completely neutral voice, or even just “Yes, yes,” repeated over and over. Like she was going through the motions. And as strange as it might have been to enjoy that motionless, emotionless doll, you did. It was comforting, in a way. There was no judgement, no complications, nothing to worry about. Just someone whose only want was for you to enjoy yourself, and that was a sort of happiness. Her inner muscles contracted in the perfect rhythm to match your strokes and it didn’t take too long before you reached a fever pitch and lost yourself in her embrace. You mindlessly pumped away at her until you brought yourself to orgasm and you pressed yourself as hard into her as you could and could feel your warmth spilling into her. For a minute you laid on top of her, but it wasn’t long before you felt like you could go again.

Like she could sense it, she spoke up, a soft quality to her voice you hadn’t noticed until that moment. “Please. Continue. As many times as you like.”

[cat-astro-pick]

𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑻𝒆𝒓𝒓𝒊𝒃𝒍𝒆 𝑾𝒐𝒓𝒅, 𝑳𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝟎𝟐

𝑀𝑎𝑖𝑛 𝐶ℎ𝑎𝑟𝑎𝑐𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑠, 𝐸𝑧𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑙 𝑥 𝐹𝑒𝑚! 𝑅𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟

𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑻𝒆𝒓𝒓𝒊𝒃𝒍𝒆 𝑾𝒐𝒓𝒅, 𝑳𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝟎𝟎

𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑻𝒆𝒓𝒓𝒊𝒃𝒍𝒆 𝑾𝒐𝒓𝒅, 𝑳𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝟎𝟏

It's been about a month since Heartsteel debuted. Nothing had changed. Ezreal called me up without even a hint of trying to care what the fans thought.

I was sitting in my studio, mindlessly taking notes on the score. The clicks of mouse and keyboard and the spinning of my laptop fan filled the room. I wondered how much my new piece would sell for. It was pretty pathetic that something I used to love to do was now just a way to make money.

I thought of a mouse. I remembered a mouse named Geronimo Stilton. With his long snout, sniffing cheese, loving what was around him, and speaking out when he saw injustice. As a child, I emulated him a lot. As the flavor of a clumsy cream cheese cake lingered on the corners of my mouth, I felt soap bubbles spinning around my head. The same mouse who rode in time machines and went on adventures to save fairy tale lands reminds me-

"There's a weird scale here."

"Huh?"

I said in my dumbest voice, with my dumbest expression, and my dumbest words. While I was making a fool of myself, she took the mouse and fixed the scale. I couldn't lie now and say it was intentional. I couldn't control my meltdown emotions. I've been thinking about the past a lot lately. The hand that popped the balloon was like popping my heart.

[Witnessing the debut of 'HEARTSTEEL', a group that will steal your heart at first sight].

[A close-up look at the lives of the HEARTSTEEL members!...]

[Exclusive! Ezreal's...]

.

.

.

I shoved my phone into my pocket. Shoulders ached. And my elbows, which had been crushed by the armrests for so long. My work had slowed down noticeably since everyone had left. I closed my laptop only after I'd made such a mess that efficiency was nowhere to be found. I slowly mulled over the title of the article I'd seen earlier. The more I thought about it, the funnier it became. I was proud of him, and then a nasty feeling of anxiety creeped up and wrapped around me.

I don't think Ezreal would abandon me. If he's the kind of person who would neglect a friend just because he's famous, then there's no reason for him to accept the selfish me that I was even before then, the one who broke promises, spoke harshly, fought with Kayn all the time, and hid in the corner of the room by myself. So I pushed harder. Even then, I was so stupid that I was testing Ezreal's feelings for me, experimenting to see if he'd get angry or not, even when I was wrong. Ezreal was the one who always passed my ridiculous and unfair tests. I, who was relieved to see him and then tested him with increased intensity, contributed nothing to his success. So I shouldn't be the one who is celebrated in Heartsteel's success.

But,

"...You idiot?"

"Why?"

"You're the one who should be celebrated."

"So what?”

“…Seriously?”

When I showed up at Ezreal's studio with the expensive bottle of wine I'd gladly bought, I was greeted by colorful confetti as soon as I opened the door. I was dumbfounded by the confetti covering my shoulders and head. I almost threw my wine bottle on the floor in surprise, but Ezreal didn't care. A pom-pom cone hat trimmed with shiny soft plastic was placed on my head. It was a tacky pink, the kind of color my mom might have put on when she was a young lady. Ezreal's hat was green. I didn't bother to joke that if Ezreal's hair had been a little more bushy and less cared for, it might have felt similar.

It was just the two of us, but it was refreshing in its own way. It was like having fun for the first time in a long time. Even when he was famous, Ezreal loved to spoon-feed the cake. It was fun to have a party with just the two of us, where we didn't have to be formal. In hindsight, I realize that it wasn't just the party that made me happy. There were other external factors beating on my heart. Well, I would call it a simple alcoholic deception.

When I opened the wine, the atmosphere was too quiet. I would have paid more for champagne if I'd known this would happen. The thought of Ezreal watching me open the wine with a spoon full of whipped cream in his mouth was overwhelming. If it was champagne, he'd be covering his ears and videotaping me from afar. Alas, fancy wine glasses don't exist in the workshop. Instead, we brought in two glasses and poured wine into them. It was wine, but we drank it like grape juice. The wine wasn't sweet, but that was okay as the cake was sweet. And there was something even sweeter in between. I'm not the type to get drunk, but I couldn't stop smiling that day. It was like someone was playing timpani and xylophones in my head. In fact, I don't remember much after that.

It was cold on the way home. As soon as I got home, I took off my stuffy walker, laid down on the floor, and laughed like a madman. It swung around and hit my shin, but I didn't even feel the pain. I couldn't remember how I'd gotten there, but my cheeks were hot, red and puffy from the cold wind.

I felt dizzy, precarious, like a piece of paper with a small margin. There were so many things I wanted to do. There were many things I wanted to say. There were many medications I was taking, and many doubts about the things that surrounded me. Walking back from the death wasn't exactly exhilarating. Cold sweat trickled down my muffler. The night view of the city was beautiful. I looked at the night view upside down, like a spider hanging from the ceiling, and saw the fall of the city. Maybe the fall would be mine. These were feelings that would be fine after a bout of tears. I felt like I was losing myself with each person I encountered. So I disliked Ezreal. Maybe I had a crush on him. Or maybe it was love. And so what?

I had done so many terrible things.

I tested him. I craved affection, and when I got it, I walked away. I came back when I ran out of love. I was no great being; I could not give him eternal life by sucking his blood. All I left him with was a terrible scar.

A day of emotion. Days when I can't get them out and they turn into a lump in my throat that burns and flows out of my eyes. On days like that, I had an awful habit of wanting to quit everything. I wanted to give up, but I didn't know what I wanted to give up, and I had no regrets. I just stupidly thought about the font of the name on my tombstone. He and I weren't meant to be. No, it shouldn't have happened in the first place. If God is a transcendent being with proper reason, he should make me miserable.

My pride wouldn't let me accept him. My horrible past wouldn't allow me to accept him. If I was going to spill my guts to Ezreal, it had to be after I'd changed. If not, it had to be when I wasn't me. Maybe I should go back a few years and strangle myself. Yeah. I didn't want to admit it. The moment I admitted it, I would have to deny my existence. Denying an emotion kept me whole, which is why I was afraid of emotions. To admit now that I'd been pouring out those sticky, unpleasant feelings to Ezreal would be like being naked in a clothing store display case. I'd held it in so far; it wasn't that I didn't want him to be famous. Stupidly, with a strange sense of possessiveness, I wanted him to be in my enclosure, but the world outside the egg told me that my illusions were false. Rather, it was I who was stuck inside his cage. The feeling of the world as I knew it expanding excluding me made me uneasy.

I should have kissed him when we were drunk. I'd ask him to forget the past. When this drunkenness was over, I would try to deny these feelings again. Solid feelings that haven't wavered in over a decade aren't going to show up for Ezreal overnight. At least not unless I change on the inside.

[ollieofthebeholder]

And If Thou Wilt, Forget: a TMA fanfic

Read from the beginning on Tumblr || AO3 || My Website

Chapter 19: It had been mine, and it was lost

“You’re sure you’re not coming?”

Gerry rolled his eyes. “I love you, and I’ll do just about anything for you, you know that. But I hate flying. You’re lucky you got me down here. I am not setting foot on another plane for at least a year. If you want to go back together, come take the train with me.”

Tim laughed, but there was something regretful in his eyes as he shook his head. “I have work in the morning. I can’t leave the Archives unguarded that long.”

“They’re not—fine.” Gerry sighed.

He got what Tim meant. It seemed like nothing in the last two months had gone the way they had hoped it would. Tim had eventually resorted to buying an external floppy disk drive and a few emulators to be able to dissect the one he’d pilfered from the Institute, but to his disappointment—and Gerry’s, it had to be admitted—if there were any secrets on it, they couldn’t suss them out. Gertrude still hadn’t come back or reached out, and as much as they kept telling one another and themselves that she’d been away longer before, that she’d be in touch if she really needed anything in the Archives, and that her cryptic comment about needing them close enough that she could protect them in a pinch had been specific to the Extinguished Sun and not the Unknowing, the longer she was gone the harder it was to believe she was fine. Wherever she had disappeared to, something had happened, and the only thing keeping them from dropping everything and trying to track her down and help her was the simple fact that Tim couldn’t be away from the Institute for very long without permission.

Tim’s worries about leaving the Archives unguarded were as much to do with his current colleagues as it was with external attacks. He’d fretted—ranted really—to Gerry more than a few times about Sasha’s need to wring out every last discoverable detail of anything she researched meaning there was nothing she wouldn’t do to find them, Jon’s contempt for the statements those who gave them meaning that he would go to any lengths to prove them false, and Martin’s desire to prove he was worthy of his job meaning that the one person Tim could otherwise count on to leave well enough alone kept pushing himself further and further in a desperate attempt to satisfy Jon’s demands. And despite Tim’s best efforts, they kept finding the real ones, few and far between though they may have been. The sheer amount of research necessary for most of them meant he’d been able to slow the roll, so to speak, but it was bad enough. He’d described it as watching Jacob Marley sit in a corner contentedly knitting what he thought was a sock and somehow not realizing it was another length of chain.

Gerry had told him he was spending too much time with Martin, but he understood the underlying sentiment. The longer Gertrude was gone, the bigger the risk that the Archives crew would bind themselves too thoroughly for her to have a choice in keeping them or not, and there was always a chance one of them was a spy for Elias…or worse, one of the other Fears. Tim was right, she’d have a stroke if anything else managed to root itself in her Archives while she was gone. Gerry didn’t think she’d hold either of them responsible, but it was still a valid worry.

“Besides,” Tim added with a sudden return of his impish grin, “His Lordship should be ready to come home by now.”

Gerry snorted. “Okay, I’ll give you that.”

The man next to them, a tall and upright but weathered man with brown eyes set in the face Tim would otherwise have when he got old, stepped up and grasped Tim by the shoulders. He spoke several sentences in the thick, honey-toned Italian that Gerry, who’d been forced to spend most of the weekend having what little conversation he could with the old man in Latin, could only catch a word or two in here and there; he was pretty sure he heard the word mama, and from the look that darted through Tim’s eyes, it wasn’t hard to guess what that was about. Tim replied in the same dialect, giving it the inflection of intimacy and respect you could really only get in a Romance language, and stepped in to hug his grandfather. The old man hugged him back before turning to look at Gerry.

“Thank you again for letting us visit, Signor DiAngelo,” Gerry said with a slight bow.

Before Tim could translate, the old man shook his finger at Gerry and tsked. In thickly accented English, he said, “I tell you, call me Nonno.” He gave Gerry a hug, too, which he had definitely not been expecting. “God bless you, my sons.”

Gerry swallowed against the sudden lump in his throat and managed one of the six Italian words he knew well. “Grazie.”

Signor DiAngelo—Nonno—smiled and clapped him on the shoulder, then turned and made his way out of the airport lobby. Tim watched him go, then turned back to Gerry. “He likes you.”

“Can’t imagine why,” Gerry said, and he was only partly joking.

“You make me happy.” Tim leaned in for a quick kiss. “And you agreed to come to services with us, which is more than my father ever did when he was courting Mama. When does your train leave?”

“I’ll be fine.”

“Shockingly, not what I asked.”

Gerry sighed. “Tomorrow. From Rome, by way of Naples, by way of Pompei, with one I. Which is where I’m going tonight. I’m seeing you off and then heading to catch a ferry.”

Tim sighed, too. “So you won’t be home until Tuesday.”

“Sorry.”

“I’ll live, you’re just at least seventy percent of my impulse control.” Tim took Gerry’s face in his hands and kissed him, the same way he had in the palazzo on their last trip to Italy. “Be safe.”

“You, too.” Gerry hugged him tight. Sudden misgiving made him not want to let go.

As if he understood, Tim whispered in his ear, “I’ll be fine, Ger. If I have to I’ll bring Rowlf to work with me and Jon can deal with that.” Pulling back, he added, “You’ll be fine too. The last eruption was in 1944, it’s not due for another nine years or so.”

“How do you—” Gerry stopped. “Wait, no, never mind, you’re Italian.”

“And Catholic. Danny’s patron saint was Saint Dominic, and there’s a painting at the Shrine of the Virgin of the Rosary of Pompei showing Mary and the Christ Child presenting rosaries to Dominic and Saint Caterina da Siena, who’s Mama’s patron saint. I had to find so much research before he would agree to go.”

Gerry pulled back and studied his partner. “Can’t believe I never asked this before, but who’s your patron saint?”

“Anthony of Padua. Patron saint of miracles, travelers, and lost things. Actually, hang on, here.” Tim reached for his neck and lifted off the silver chain his grandfather had given him just the day before, then slipped it over Gerry’s head. He patted the silver oval now flat against his sternum. “To keep you safe until you get home.”

Gerry placed his hand over Tim’s, trapping it against his chest. He didn’t have Tim’s level of faith in God—or any at all—but somehow, having faith in the medallion was easier. “Thanks, Tim.”

Tim smiled, then cocked his ear at the sound of an announcement. “That’s pre-boarding for my flight. I have to go…look, call me when you get to wherever you’re staying tonight, okay? And I’ll see you when you get home.”

“Okay.” Gerry squeezed Tim’s hand. “Let me know if she turns up.”

“Obviously I’m going to let you know if she turns up.” Tim gave Gerry one last quick kiss, then reluctantly let go of him and dashed towards the security line.

It had been a weekend they both could ill afford and desperately needed. They were both conscious of the ticking clock that presaged the Unknowing, just not of how long it had to run out, and they needed to find as much information as they could. On the other hand, Tim’s grandfather was the only remaining member of his family still talking to him—and, from what Tim had said, vice-versa—and had lost his best friend in the time between Tim and Gerry’s first visit and this one. The previous day had been a fairly major Catholic feast day, which was also a regional holiday, and since it was a Saturday Tim had promised on his last visit to come back for it. Gerry hadn’t necessarily planned on coming at first, but Tim’s grandfather had been expecting him, and since Rowlf had a routine but desperately necessary procedure scheduled for that Friday anyway, he’d agreed. And he didn’t regret it, he didn’t. He’d have greatly preferred if Tim could have taken a couple days off so they could take the train down and back together, but he’d white-knuckled his way through the flight, and it had been worth it for the broad grin and tight hug the old man had given them both when they deplaned.

He was not, however, flying back, regardless of how long it was going to take him. So once Tim was out of sight, Gerry turned and headed for the route he’d mapped out earlier to catch the ferry off the island.

The trip to Pompei—a ferry followed by a bus followed by a narrow-gauge train—was uneventful, and Gerry busied himself with the book of puzzles he’d brought along and the tape of heavy metal music Tim had unearthed in an Oxfam shop while looking for a computer. Once he disembarked at the small station in the town where he was going to spend the night, he busied himself with his latest problem. Namely, that he still didn’t speak Italian. Most towns in Europe had one or two people who spoke English, but some of the smaller towns, it was iffy.

Lucky for him, Pompei was a tourist town, and he discovered—after a confused attempt to communicate with a local about lodgings that got him directed to the local church by someone who clearly thought he was a Dominican postulate—that there were plenty of people here who spoke English well enough to communicate with him. He managed to find a bed and breakfast that had rooms available, dropped off his things, and went looking for something to eat. The one problem with living with Tim—and it was admittedly not a bad problem to have—was that he’d got used to things like regular meals and soap that wasn’t just whatever was on sale and someone being there when he woke up in the mornings. The man who’d once gone three days on a handful of crackers and a pint now got extremely hungry if he went more than seven hours without something in his stomach.

He pretended annoyance, but he knew he looked—and felt—better than he ever remembered feeling.

Another joy he’d learned from traveling with Tim was in eating where the locals ate, rather than where catered to tourists. Gerry wandered the streets a bit until he located exactly the kind of place he enjoyed—small, intimate, dim without being dingy, and emitting a truly appetizing smell. He slipped in, found a seat, discovered that the person behind the counter spoke about as much English as he did Italian but, for some reason, spoke extremely good German, and managed to order a meal.

The woman, who said her name was Elizabeth, leaned on the counter to chat with him. She turned out to be from more or less the same part of Germany Gerry’s mother had always claimed their ancestors came from, and while Gerry freely admitted to being English—if only so he didn’t have to bluff his way through memories of growing up in the Black Forest or explain why he apparently spoke with a Hessian accent—she spoke to him like a long-lost sibling or cousin. She was full of suggestions for what he could do and seemed almost disappointed to learn he was only passing through on his way home and would be gone in the morning.

“So where were you visiting, that you are going home this way?” she asked, propping herself on her elbows. “And all by yourself?”

“No, not by myself. My boyfriend had to leave early for work,” Gerry explained without thinking, then almost bit his tongue in half. Luckily, Elizabeth didn’t bat an eyelash, and he went on. “We were visiting his grandfather for the—” He gestured vaguely. His German was good, even fluent, but it had somehow never extended to religious vocabulary, go figure. He struggled for a moment, and then ventured, “The Virgin party?”

Elizabeth giggled. “Mariae Himmelfahrt. You are not Catholic, are you?”

“No, but his family is, so I went. His grandfather lives in Messina.”

“Ah, yes, it is an important holiday for them.” Elizabeth studied him curiously. “So what is it that you do, when you are not being Catholic to please your boyfriend?”

Gerry was pretty sure he had used the word boyfriend to describe Tim more in the last five minutes than he had in their entire time knowing one another, but there wasn’t really a word in German that worked well enough for casual conversation. “I buy and sell rare books.”

Elizabeth’s eyes lit up. “Ah, like Jurgen Leitner?”

Gerry froze.

Of all the things he could have expected to hear her say, that was the absolute last one. The question of how she even knew who Jurgen Leitner was met the question of why that was her first association with “rare book dealer” and turned into a catastrophic system failure that resulted in the next words out of his mouth being, “No, actually, I think he’s a dumbass bastard.”

Elizabeth tilted her head at him in confusion. After a moment’s pause, she said slowly, “I do not know those words and I cannot tell from your tone if that was surprised or angry.”

Enough of Gerry’s brain came back online at that point that he realized he had, while retaining the fact that she didn’t speak English, somehow managed to switch languages entirely and he’d made his comment in Sanskrit. Making a conscious effort to get hold of himself and return to the tongue they both knew, he said, “A little bit of both, I suppose. How do you know Jurgen Leitner?”

“Oh, I have never met him myself,” Elizabeth said. Gerry wasn’t sure if he was relieved or disappointed. “But Monseigneur Tommaso Caputo, at the Shrine—he spoke about him not long ago. I think he has a book from him.”

Gerry managed to change the subject, but part of his attention was still on the revelation. If this Monseigneur Caputo had a Leitner…well, it was Gerry’s bounden duty to get it off of him before it caused more harm than it undoubtedly already had. Particularly in the hands of a priest…who knew what it could convince him of? He’d heard all about Father Edwin Burroughs.

He finished off dinner with a delicious dessert that he barely tasted, then made his way onto the street. For a moment, he stood, torn with indecision. He could—probably should—head back to the bed and breakfast, call Tim to make sure he’d made it home all right, and get a bit of rest, then…what? Break into a Catholic shrine and steal a book? God, what if it was a Bible or some other religious text? He’d never make it out of town in time. No, there was really only one option.

Touching the medal Tim had put around his neck lightly, he made his way to the shrine.

A fair few people were coming out of the front door as he arrived. It hadn’t occurred to him there might be an evening service as well, but apparently there had been. Gerry waited respectfully until the last one had walked out, then headed up the path. A tall older man with gold-framed glasses and a beatific smile stood, wearing the same white robes as the priest at the local church back in Messina. He caught Gerry’s eye and raised an eyebrow, just for a moment, before bowing and addressing him in Italian.

Gerry bowed back and spoke in Latin, which he was fairly certain would be the only tongue they had in common. “Greetings, Monseigneur, may I have a word with you?”

“Certainly, my son. Come in.” The man’s smile softened. He ushered Gerry into the shrine.

It was, admittedly, beautiful. Gerry couldn’t appreciate the religious significance but he could appreciate the architectural aesthetics, and the painting at one end of the room that Tim had mentioned was lovely. The monseigneur led Gerry to a pew and sat down beside him. “Now. How may I be of assistance?”

Gerry hesitated, then decided, the hell with it. He might as well go for it. “Elizabeth at the Hungry Spoon told me you had mentioned Jurgen Leitner.”

That fast, the smile melted off the man’s face. “You know him?”

“I know of him. I deal in rare books, and…” Gerry gestured vaguely. “My name is Gerard Delano. My mother owned a rare book shop in London, and I took it over when she…left me.”

The man studied Gerry for a moment, then—to his surprise—switched to a heavily accented but perfectly understandable English. “I am Monseigneur Tommaso Caputo. Let us not use God’s tongue to discuss this man.”

“Yeah, I think the devil’s tongue is the better choice,” Gerry said, getting a surprised laugh from the old man. “I take it you don’t like Jurgen Leitner and his books any more than I do.”

“No. They are things of evil, relics of unholiness, that take men from God’s light and plunge them into darkness, or bind them to the Lord of the Flies, or condemn them to flame.” Monseigneur Caputo’s words belied a certain familiarity with the Fourteen that Gerry found interesting, and he knew Tim would as well. “I know not the man’s fate, but if God is so good, it will be the pain he deserves.”

“I agree, Monseigneur,” Gerry said fervently. “And I’m grateful to hear it. I worried when Elizabeth mentioned him that you had found one of his books and that it might…do you harm yourself.”

“Alas, no, or I would have removed the foul thing from existence,” Monseigneur Caputo said regretfully. He studied Gerry again, then gestured at his medal. “You do not look to be Catholic yourself, my son, but do you know whose medal you wear?”

Gerry almost said it was his partner’s before he realized what he meant. “Saint Anthony.”

“Who helps find things that are lost. Perhaps, then, you can be of use.” Monseigneur Caputo rose. “Wait here.”

Despite the temptation to follow, Gerry stayed where he was, hand over the medal. He could almost fool himself that it still held a bit of the warmth from Tim’s hand, but that was undoubtedly the heat of the sun. It had been an almost unpleasantly warm day and he was grateful for the cool, dark interior of the shrine.

Whatever this was, it was almost certainly the best lead they’d had in a while. Gerry was glad he’d come.

Monseigneur Caputo came back to the main part of the shrine carrying a very large leather-bound volume gingerly, as if he feared it might explode. Gerry clutched the medal for just a moment before relaxing and straightening. The Book of the Unnamed Dead had been almost that large, and if this was something like that…no, he’d specifically referenced lost things, so more likely the Spiral. God, he hoped it wasn’t the Stranger.

“A regular parishioner here found this in a box he fished from the sea,” Monseigneur Caputo explained. “He was hoping it would be valuable, but he reads no English, and so brought it to me. I assured him it was of no value, and it is—no monetary value, anyway.” He sat down next to Gerry again, then held the book out to him. “You tell me what value it has to one such as you.”

Gerry took it slowly, unease filling him again. It could be a trap. It was probably a trap. Reading these things was the quickest way to get bound to them. Maybe if he just took a quick peek at the cover page, though, it would be okay. He opened it carefully.

And stared.

An hour later, safely back in the bed and breakfast and having confirmed with the innkeepers that international calls were permitted, he dialed the number that was now as familiar to him as his own name. It rang once, twice, three times…

“You have reached the Literacy Self-Help Hotline. At the tone, please leave your name, your number, and the correct spelling of acetylsalicylic.”

Gerry grinned. Never more than three rings. “Hey, Tim.”

“Gerry, hey.” The relief in Tim’s voice was almost tangible. “Are you okay? I was expecting your call hours ago.”

“Yeah, I just…went out for food.” Gerry glanced at the book in his lap. “And then I got a lead…you made it home all right?”

“Safe and sound. Picked up the dog an hour ago. He’s currently passed out on his back with all four legs in the air and his tail covering the bits he hasn’t got anymore.”

Gerry laughed. “Still modest, even post-surgery.”

“Thank God one of us is. So what was the lead?”

“Well…” Gerry brushed the cover of the book again. “While I was chatting with the woman working the restaurant, she mentioned that the priest at the shrine had said something the other day about Jurgen Leitner.”

“It’s called a pre—wait, what about Leitner?” Tim asked, a little sharply.

“She didn’t say, so I went to talk to him. Monseigneur Tommaso Caputo, and thankfully he speaks English, because I don’t speak Italian and we were starting to hit the limits of my Latin. Anyway, he apparently knows about Leitner, and considers him an agent of Satan. One of his parishioners found a book in a box and brought it to him, and he gave it to me.”

Tim inhaled sharply, and when he spoke, he sounded like he was barely holding back the panic. “What is it? Which Fear? Do I need to come down there? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, Tim. I’m okay. I promise. This isn’t a Leitner. Or at least it’s not a book of power.” Gerry opened the book’s cover again. “It’s his catalog.”

There was a silence, one so long Gerry wondered if the call had been disconnected. Before he could check, though, Tim said, “Are you fucking serious?”

“No, I’m fucking you,” Gerry shot back. It earned a surprised laugh out of Tim. “But yeah, genuinely. Looks like the whole thing. I’m going to have to go through and cross off the ones I know have been destroyed.”

“I’ll help you. There are some I know the Institute’s got hold of and destroyed. Jon seems to be under the impression we got them all, but…”

“Tim, there are at least nine thousand books in this thing. No way did you get them all. Especially since I know I got a few myself.”

“Yeah, it seemed too good to be true.” Tim sighed down the phone line. “We can look at it when you get home—Tuesday, right?”

“Yeah, around lunchtime. I can—no, never mind.” Gerry had been on the verge of offering to meet Tim at the Institute, but unless Gertrude was back—and Tim would have led off with that if she was—they couldn’t risk it. “Uh, I think I might spend the trip home working out how to phrase an ad in the Times to subtly convey to our missing contact and no one else that we’ve got this. Might entice her out of hiding.”

“We can only hope. Call me before you check out in the morning, okay? I’ll probably be at work, but I want to know when you’re leaving.”

“I will. ‘Night, Tim.”

“Night, Ger. Don’t stay up too late reading. Love you.” Tim hung up before Gerry could respond.

Slowly, Gerry hung up the phone, then wrapped his hand around the St. Anthony’s medallion again. Funny how such a short phone call could hurt so much, or how much further away home felt after one. Still, it would just be another day or so, not even thirty-six hours. He could make it that long.

It wasn’t like he had that much choice in the matter. Nothing short of an impending apocalypse would get him on another plane any time soon.

[venicemermaids]

seeing as i write lucy w passione most of the time (she deserved friends her own age!!!), here's my takes on their dynamics.

♡•~•♡•~•♡•~•♡•~•♡•~•♡•~•♡•~•♡•~•♡

♡ as a whole, lucy feels out of place when she first meets everyone. they’ve accomplished so much in so little time, and so she puts them on a bit of a pedestal. she doesn’t consider herself a part of the group, and often questions her place with them because of her lack of stand and her (percieved) lack of strength. everyone else just assumes she’s shy, which is also part of the truth.

she initially gravitates towards the adults of the group because she’s more used to interacting with older people as opposed to her peers, and is seemingly more comfortable around them.

♡ out of everyone on team bucciarati, trish is the person that lucy’s closest with, and she’s someone that lucy longs to emulate. in her eyes, trish is a confident person who’s always in charge of the situations she finds herself in. because of this, lucy tries to follow her lead as best as she can. with trish’s influence, lucy allows herself to become more outspoken and to voice her needs without feeling guilty about it later.

lucy sees trish as the older sister she never had, and makes it clear that she’s happy they had the chance to meet.

♡ mista is the person that lucy warms up to first, because he always tries to involve her in conversations. she sees him as an older brother figure, and sometimes goes to him for advice if she thinks it’s something trish can’t help her with. whenever she puts herself in danger, he’s always a step behind her as backup. since he doesn’t try to dissuade her, lucy’s more comfortable relying on him in this way.

he taught her how to shoot, but he’ll still have the sex pistols help her out if she really needs it.

♡ lucy was intimidated by narancia to a certain degree, and that’s only because he’s one of the louder members of team bucciarati. once they’re a bit friendlier to each other, narancia’s a bit protective over her. it makes her feel slightly awkward because she’s not used to it, so she shies away sometimes. 

narancia’s the one who tries to include her in stuff the most whenever he notices her sitting off to the side away from everyone else.

♡ giorno is someone that lucy holds a deep admiration for, yet she never expresses that out loud. a part of her is intimidated by him as well because she’s aware of how ruthless he can be towards his enemies, and doesn’t want to accidentally anger him too. it’s a little jarring to lucy when she sees him laughing and joking with the others.

as she becomes more comfortable with giorno, she shows a more affectionate side towards him, which manifests in her checking in on him as much as she can.

♡ it shouldn’t be a surprise that lucy and fugo have a good friendship going on. she understands his aversion to touch a bit too well, and will always sit across from him or on opposite ends to respect that. she’s not afraid of his anger, but will try to calm him down anyway– especially if it's anger born from frustration over something someone said or didn’t do.

being more quiet than the rest, sometimes lucy and fugo communicate in non-verbal ways. tilts of the head, blinking in a certain way. it’s something only they understand.

♡ in comparison to everyone else, lucy and abbacchio had a rougher start to their eventual friendship. his tendency to shun others at time and his bouts of sarcasm had her assume he hated her for whatever reason, until she realized that’s just how he is. despite this, abbacchio does have a secret soft spot for her (and trish) that leads him to being slightly nicer to her. still, he doesn’t understand why she’d rather sit inside with him while the others have their fun.

because of abbacchio, lucy decides to learn how to use weapons in the first place. because while she’s independent to a certain degree, she has no self-defense training to speak of.

♡ lucy treats bruno more formally than the rest, even if he’d prefer her to treat him like she does the others. she respects him deeply thanks to how trustworthy he comes off, and because of how much he tries to accommodate her and her timidity. bruno is concerned with how adult she acts in relation to her age, and tries to encourage her to spend more time with the teens of the group.

they both have a tendency to take on other people’s burdens, even to their own detriment. bruno pushes her to do things for herself once in a while.

[askbloatedbellyblog]

Could you do caelus (hsr) burp headcanon pretty please🛐🛐

with a few other asks (maybe from the same person) over time.

As I put on this list, I think that Caelus is actually a fairly big burper , especially when he wants to be. In fact, I think he'd be pretty close to S tier but he has a few things working against him.

I'll get the few things working against him that puts him at a disadvantage first. First, is that he's newly born or without much memory (depending on how you want to interpret the beginning of the game). This puts him at a severe disadvantage with lack of experience. Second, those around him most, such as Welt and Dan Heng (though I'll get to his burp canon later since I think he is one just, he's complicated) are more polite and try to be refined so it's not like he has experience with witnessing it either so must be taught. Third, because of all of that together, I don't think he has much opportunity to burp as some of the others.

However, that being said, I don't think he wouldn't learn. He's also a gamer as we've seen from his idle and he's definitely learning as things go along and his friends will definitely rub off on him. Plus I also think that Caelus would experiment on himself especially when he can see what others are doing. He's stubborn that way. If others around him are burping and showing off, he's not one to be left behind. He's going to force some out and be able to let out some monsters. Because rules are meant to be broken!

There is another counter thought working in his favor. Because of his lack of memory, he doesn't necessarily know all the manners of others and so learned behaviors from others slobbier than him will rub off quick or he may do it because it's natural and not realize it's rudeness. There in the bonus of if March 7th says that it's rude, he's definitely going to burp again just to mess with her. Though this also makes me laugh at her then saying Caelus' epic burps are part of his secret strength.

Caelus also comes off as less mannered as everyone and able to slip easily into a more relaxed state. We already know he can be a master at eating contests (even if it takes several tries to do so) so I'm sure his appetite is there and even during these contests when he's about to black out or he eats something weird (which seems to happen a lot), that he just lets belches fly so that he can try to settle his stomach or make more room. If he's eaten something weird, I'm sure he'd rub his belly and let them out or even try to cover them by burping into his fist (depending on who he is with).

Because he's kind of baby at having a body, I think he doesn't have much control over his belches so he's not really suppressing them. His belches will be loud and resonant, even if he's burping into his own fist. If he's casually eating too much then, I do think he'd pat his belly and show off and belch loudly with a smirk, satisfied in belly and his performance. I think someone like Luka or Sampo and their belches would definitely rub off on Caelus and he wouldn't want to not be able to be at their level and even try to emulate them.

I imagine that he'd also be one to just chug soda and be surprised when he lets out a huge belch. Speaking of, there is the thought of that Caelus likes to stop at all the vending machines on the various worlds so he's trying all kinds of foods and drink, with many of them fizzy. So he's bound to just burp up a storm, and even have some unintentional ones that go up his nose and burn a little.

What would be hilarious is if one of the Aeons (even if it was in simulated universe) and his stellaron power was infused with the power of his belches and one such very epic belches ended up attracting the notice of an Aeon and he's granted a blessing (probably something like from AHA since pretty sure Sampo is already in that club.)

So overall, I think that Caelus could be a pretty epic belcher, almost unintentionally, and them would be deep and bassy, but with almost no control and not ready to force out monster belches like some of the others.