#so if you wanna see my sources/ do some further reading let me know

[guiltyonsundays]

In defence of Will Ladislaw

George Eliot's characterisation of Will Ladislaw is one of the few aspects of Middlemarch that is not universally praised, with no less a person than Henry James commenting in 1873 that he lacked “sharpness of outline and depth of color”, making him the novel’s “only eminent failure.” And while Will's character is certainly not as clearly defined as some of the other characters in the novel, I believe that this was absolutely intentional on Eliot's part. Middlemarch is full to the brim of characters who believe they know exactly what they want—not least among them, our two protagonists, Dorothea Brooke and Tertius Lydgate, whose ardent ambitions and inflexible attitudes lead them into catastrophic errors of judgement and unhappy marriages.

By contrast, Will's lack of strongly defined goals and his changeability are almost his defining character traits. He's aimless and pliable, prone to rapid mood swings and drastic career changes, with even his physical features seeming to "chang[e] their form; his jaw looked sometimes large and sometimes small; and the little ripple in his nose was a preparation for metamorphosis. When he turned his head quickly his hair seemed to shake out light."

Will’s inscrutability is closely tied to his ambiguous status within the rigid class structure and xenophobic society of Victorian England, with his Polish ancestry and “rebellious blood on both sides” making him a target for suspicion. He is repeatedly aligned (and aligns himself) with oppressed, marginalised, and outcast populations—Jewish people, artists, and the poor.

He serves as a narrative foil for characters like Lydgate and Edward Casaubon, who prioritise specialist expertise above all and are consequently incapable of broad knowledge synthesis. He critiques Casaubon's life's work as being "thrown away, as so much English scholarship is, for want of knowing what is being done by the rest of the world." By contrast, Will serves as Eliot's defence of the value of a liberal education. One of the first things that we learn about him is that he declines to choose a vocation, and instead seeks to travel widely, experiencing diverse cultures and ways of life. He has broad tastes and interests, trying his hand at poetry and painting before eventually pursuing a career in politics.

He also functions as a narrative foil for Dorothea. Will is initially apathetic to politics, whereas Dorothea initially professes herself to be disinterested in art and beauty. This is perfectly encapsulated in their exchange in Rome, when Dorothea declares, "I should like to make life beautiful—I mean everybody's life. And then all this immense expense of art, that seems somehow to lie outside life and make it no better for the world, pains one", to which Will replies, "You might say the same of landscape, of poetry, of all refinement [...] The best piety is to enjoy—when you can [...] I suspect that you have some false belief in the virtues of misery, and want to make your life a martyrdom.”

By the end of the novel, Dorothea unlearns some of her puritanical suspicion of sensual pleasure, whereas Will becomes more serious, compassionate, and politically engaged, dedicating his life to the accomplishment of humane political reforms. They are both flawed individuals, who ultimately become more well rounded through their relationship with each other. Admittedly, Dorothea's influence on Will is more significant than his on her—and once again, I believe that this was intentional on Eliot's part.

In my opinion, the negative response to Will Ladislaw at the time of Middlemarch's publication (and in the centuries since) was and is profoundly informed by gendered expectations of masculine dominance in romantic relationships. Will's marriage to Dorothea has often been described as disappointing, with many readers and critics viewing the ambitious Lydgate as the embodiment of the ideal husband that Dorothea outlines at the beginning of the novel—a talented man engaged in important work for the betterment of humanity, to whom she can devote herself.

However, one of the central themes of the novel is that people are often mistaken in their beliefs about what they want, and Dorothea's marriage to Edward Casaubon certainly demonstrates that she would not in fact be happy living her life in submission to a man who does not respect her opinions. I firmly believe that Lydgate's misogynistic attitudes and expectations would have made it impossible for him to be happy in a marriage of equals with a woman like Dorothea. He is explicitly drawn to Rosamond Vincy because she has "just the kind of intelligence one would desire in a woman—polished, refined, docile."

By contrast, George Eliot made a deliberate choice to pair Dorothea with a man who is not ashamed to be influenced by her, and indeed looks up to her as his moral superior. Through Dorothea's influence, Will discovers his life's work. In turn, by marrying Will, Dorothea is able to pursue her true passion. As a result of their influence on each other, these come to mean the same thing—reform. Thus, George Eliot grants Dorothea Brooke a subversively feminist, politically progressive, and profoundly cathartic ending: a life of companionate marriage, sensual pleasure, and meaningful work, in which Dorothea can devote herself (within the limited means available to her as a woman in the 19th century) to the achievement of just and compassionate reforms that "make life beautiful" for everybody—herself included.

[mncxbe]

Taking a bath with them♡

𝑫𝒂𝒛𝒂𝒊, 𝑪𝒉𝒖𝒚𝒂, 𝑨𝒌𝒖𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒂𝒘𝒂, 𝑹𝒂𝒏𝒑𝒐 𝒙 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

Genre: fluff/ slight nsfw♡

Not requested but I wanted to write this for a while. enjoy♡

𝑫𝒂𝒛𝒂𝒊

he's a bit tricky at first cuz he's reluctant to let you see him without bandages, but if you keep insisting he will eventually indulge you

"Only this one time, bella" he says but he loves it so much that now you take baths together on a regular basis

sometimes the baths are quite romantic: with bubbles, scented candles and rose petals; other times he will bring rubber ducks and insist you play with him.

definitely helps you wash your back if you ask him♡

"Hehe, soapy tits" is something you hear every time there are bubbles

uses baths as a form of aftercare too

"Hey Osamu" you say as you stepped into your shared bedroom "I wanna ask you something"

"Sure, bella. What is it?"

"So I've been thinking and I'd really like to take a bath with you"

Dazai's eyebrows shot up in surprise at your proposal. "But bella, it's late plus it's really hot outside. Do you really think it's the best time for a bath?" he asked in a doubtful tone.

You crossed your arms over your chest and pursed your lips "I guess you're right. Sorry I bother you sweetheart".

Your boyfriend noticed the hint of disappointment in your voice, an overwhelming feeling of guilt taking over him. He hated to shut you down like that but he didn't think he was ready to take off his bandages in front of you. Unless...

He quickly discarded the book he was reading on the mattress and made his way to you, arms locking around your waist "Actually, I think I could use a bath. And you never bother me, my sweet belladonna"

You agreed to let him prepare the bath and half an hour later when you walked into the bathroom you were met with a deep scent of vanilla. Dazai had filled the tub to the brim and was now submerged in the water; the only source of light was provided by a few scented candles, their flickering flames illuminating the curls of steam that rose from the tub.

You didn't know how your boyfriend did all of this in thirty minutes but it was more than you could've asked for. With a giddy smile on your face, you dropped the cotton towel that was wrapped around your body and tip toed to the tub. As you slid in some water spilled over the edge. You leaned against Dazai's chest, his arms instinctively wrapping around your waist to hold you closer.

"So, is my pretty girl satisfied?" he asked after a few minutes of silence.

"Yes, thank you Osamu. I'm really happy" you replied in a cheerful tone, gently sweezing his forearm.

He chuckled lowly as his fingers started gliding up and down your thigh. "And is there anything else I could do to make this evening ever better?". His breath was hot against the shell of your ear, his honeyed voice making you rub your thighs in anticipation; you needn't look at him to know that he had that mischevious grin plastered on his face.

When his hands got close to your core you seized his wrists, pushing him away.

"Not now Osamu. Let's just enjoy the bath please"

"As you wish, bella" he replied in his usual amused tone. He rested his elbows on the edge of the tub as he took in your figure; the tips of your hair that reached the water and seemed to bloom, floating around like sea anemones, the soft round of your shoulders, the arch of your brow. A warm feeling nestled into his chest, making his heart beat faster and he pulled you closer, pressing a kiss on the crown of your head. He closed his eyes, allowing the hot vapors to cloud his senses.

"Thanks for doing this with me, love"

"Anytime" you replied, leaning further into his touch.

𝑪𝒉𝒖𝒚𝒂

he has one of those huge, fancy jacuzzi tubs with pretty lights

when you first ask him to take a bath together he's all for it. he preps the tub, brings champagne, grapes and other little snacks for you to enjoy

he's a romantic so for sure he has tall red candles engraved with intricate patterns

loves to cuddle you and always offers to wash your hair or massage your tense shoulders while whispering sweet nothings

when you're done he will wrap you in a fuzzy bathrobe and do some skincare with you

It's been a long and stressful week at work and you couldn't wait to get home and finally rest. You quickly tapped the six digits code, nails clicking against the glass screen of the digital lock, and you entered your apartment. As you slammed the door shut and started taking off your coat, your mind was so clouded by sheer exhaustion that you didn't even notice your boyfriend lounging on the couch. His voice suddenly snapped you out of that state.

"Hey darling. How was work?"

"Oh Chu dear. I didn't expect to see you tonight." Your boyfriend worked late hours and at the end of the week he was usually caught up in meetings, so you were used to him coming home well after 10 p.m.

"Well, I decided to come home early today and spend some time with you. Plus, I have a surprise" he said as he got up from the couch, beckoning you to follow him.

"I don't know Chu. I'm really tired tonight I just wanna go to sleep" you whined, causing the man to smile sweetly.

"Oh trust me dear, you're gonna like this."

You followed him to the bathroom and he slid the door open. The large tub was filled with steaming water and bubbles; the few candles placed on its edge cast a warm light over the walls of the room. Next to the window that overlooked the gleaming city laid a little marble table with two empty glasses and a bowl of white grapes.

Your eyes glittered with joy as you turned to face your partner "This is amazing thank you so much Chu"

"Come on, get in. The water's gonna run cold" teased your boyfriend "I'm gonna go get us something and be right there with you."

You quickly slipped out of your work uniform and slid into the water, allowing its warmth to relax your tense muscles. Your gaze drifted out the window to the city, its buildings shining against the dark blue sky; no matter how many times you saw it, the view never ceased to fascinate you.

Soon after Chuya returned with a bottle of cold champagne and poured some in the crystal glasses before joining you in the tub.

While you sipped the sparkling wine you talked about trivial things: work, plans for the weekend, good and bad things that happened that day. At some point Chuya pulled you closer to him, his face nuzzling the crook of your neck and for the first time in weeks you were able to relax.

"Thank you darling" you spoke softly, your fingers gently stroking his red curls. "This is wonderful. We should do this more often"

You felt him smile against your neck, a chuckle escaping his lips "We shall, if you wish so. Now let me wash your hair dear"

You nodded eagerly, reaching for the shampoo bottle. He took his time to massage your scalp and then moved on to your shoulders, earning a soft moan from you when his thumbs rubbed your sore muscles.

"Just relax and let me take care of your, okay?" he whispered as he planted a kiss on your forehead. You closed your eyes and allowed him to work the tension out of your body.

By the time the bath was ready you were fully relaxed and half asleep.

"Can we go to bed now?" you managed to utter between yawns "I'm sleepy"

When you got to bed you snuggled up against his chest, slender fingers entangled in his hair. "You smell good Chu" was all you said before drifting into a dreamless sleep.

Your boyfriend only chuckled, arms snaking around your torso. He whispered a sweet I love you before shutting his eyes, letting your steady breath lull him to sleep.

𝑨𝒌𝒖𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒂𝒘𝒂

it takes a lot of patience and effort to get him to take a bath with you because he's lowkey kinda scared of intimacy and doesn't like not having rashomon with him; it makes him feel vulnerable

the first time you bathe together he is a blushing mess and he does his best not to look at your body but after you reassure him that it's ok to look he'll relax a little

uses baths as a form of aftercare or to cheer you up after a stressful day

although he doesn't admit it, he loves it when you put scented oils in the water

he has a little table next to the tub so you can drink tea while bathing♡

not a big fan of keeping the lights on but he does like candles

His first impulse was to say no, to shut down your initiative and hide in the bedroom for the rest of the evening, but the pleading look on your face made him hesitate.

"Come on Ryu it'll be fun. Consider this a bonding experience." you said with a wide smile.

He wasn't keen on your idea to take a bath together, but he knew that even if he refused today you'd bring it up again tomorrow or in a couple of days. So why not get it over with?

"Alright" he replied in a harsh tone "But make it quick"

Your smile grew even wider as you nodded eagerly, making your way to the bathroom to prepare the tub. "Just give me a few minutes"

In the meantime Akutagawa retreated to the bedroom to mentally prepare himself for the bath. Once again his worries were haunting him like a pack of hyenas; although you had been together for quite some time he still wasn't used to closeness. Even during intimate moments he kept Rashomon close by and you didn't seem to mind it, but he knew it would be absurd to bring his coat in the bathroom. And what if he messed it up and ruined the experience for you?

His train of thought was interrupted by your voice "I'm ready Ryu. Come here"

He took in a deep breath, pushing the racing thoughts to the back of his mind and hesitantly made his way to the bathroom. When he opened the door and saw you in the tub, wet hair running down to your chest and cheeks slightly flushed from the steam, his face turned a deep shade of pink. The back of his hand came to cover his mouth, something he did whenever he was nervous.

He quickly undressed and neatly folded his clothes, placing them on the laundry basket before stepping into the tub with you. At first he avoided looking at you, afraid of what you might say or do, opting to focus on the light herbal scent that lingered in the air.

You found his uneasiness absolutely adorable. He was fiercely gripping the sides of the acrylic tub, fingers curling over its edge. His eyes were darting around the room and his face was getting paler by the second. You nudged his thigh with your feet, making him jolt in surprise.

"Relax, Ryu. You look like you've seen a ghost" you snickered "Do you dislike this that much?"

There was a trace of worry in your voice which made your boyfriend curse himself.

"No, it's not that. I really like it it's just that..." he paused for a secons but you enouraged him to continue. "I'm still not used to being this close with someone, to doing such domestic things. It's strange"

You tilted your head to the side, a few strands of hair falling over your face as you flashed him a smile. "I know it's hard for you Ryu, but you can let your guard down and be vulnerable around me. I'll always be here for you and I'm really proud of how far we're come"

His body visibly relaxed at your words and he sighed loudly. "I know. Thanks for being so patient with me dear."

"Eh don't mention it. After all, I do love you"

Love... he thought as he held your gaze, your eyes sparkling with joy and for the first time since you started dating he said it back.

With a swift movement you got on your knees and leaned in, placing a small peck on his forehead "I know, dear. Don't worry about it"

𝑹𝒂𝒏𝒑𝒐

he is constantly complaining abour the water temperature

bro is restless. it's a miracle if you get him to sit still for ten minutes; but a good way to do that is to ask him to tell you about cases he solved

if he gets bored he will start a bubble fight

he also brings along some snacks which can be annoying sometimes since crumbs always end up falling into the water

always asks you to wash his hair and back

lowkey has a thing for bath bombs

"Ranpo, stop that!" you whined as your boyfriend threw a handful of bath bubbles at you.

"Not until you pay attention to me" he said with a pout, preparing to launch another ball of foam at you.

"Alright, alright I got it". You closed the mystery book you were reading and carefully placed it on the table next to the tub. "Happy now, you little baby?"

Ranpo's lips stretched into a grin, his vivid green eyes meeting yours "Very much sugar cube. Now don't you want to hear how the world's greatest detective solved today's mistery?"

You crossed your arms over your chest and returned an enthusiastic smile "Go on. I'm all ears"

"So there was this guy that was planning to bomb three diners, right? And he sent us a note this morning announcing the time of the attacks and stating that we will never be able to guess the locations. Of course, Kunikida panicked because we only had three hours to find and disarm the bombs but I saw right through it. This whole charade was only meant to distract us from the real plan: the robbery of a bank. So silly, he really thought was going to get away with it" He spoke with such an unshakeable confidence that you could barely contain the proud smile that rose to your lips "So then we took care of the bombs and prevented the robbery. Quite an easy day I could say"

"You know Ranpo, sometimes I wonder how you do it" you chuckled lightly.

He pointed at his head with the lollipop he was eating, his eyes gleaming with mischief "It's all up here darling"

You gestured him to give you the candy but when he extended his arm you seized his wrists, yanking him forward; he fell on top of you, the sudden motion causing some water to spill on the ground. "Aha I got you now!" you exclaimed excitedly.

"What was that for?" he whined, wiping the bubbles off his face with the back of his hand.

Just as he was cleaning his eyes your fingers slid through his hair and grabbed a fistful of it, pulling him into a passionate kiss. A moan escaped Ranpo's lips as he returned the kiss, his arms resting on the edge of the tub for support. (You knew how fond your boyfriend was of such saccharine affections.)

When you eventually pulled away he rested his head on your chest and began kneading the plush of your hips. "My o my I didn't know you liked my stories this much. I'll make sure to tell you more" he teased

"You're amazing darling. But I'd really like to finish my chapter now. Do you mind if I read?"

Ranpo hummed against your chest and you started running your fingers through his brown locks to give him something to focus on. With your free hand you picked up the book, struggling a bit to flip through the pages.

You have been reading for roughly ten minutes when your boyfriend suddenly mumbled something.

"What's that, dear? I didn't catch it?"

Ranpo straightened himself and looked you dead in the eyes before repeating what he just said.

"The main character dies at the end. Her cousin kills her because she'd been embezzling large sums from their company and the main character found out. She didn't want the secret to come out, you know?"

"You little-" you yelled, tossing a handful of foam at him. Ranpo only laughed, leaning in to capture your lips in a quick kiss. "Don't deny it sugar. You love me"

"You bet I do. But your ultra deduction really spoils the fun sometimes."

[constantcrying]

Ersatz, baby

m!shape-shifter!yandere x gn!reader. 4k words. yes. I'm so sorry.

TW: Obsession, possessive thoughts and behaviors, mentions of violence, gore, consumption of humans, idk how to tag it but the shape-shifter eats humans and has considered eating the reader so like heads up about that

Heeeeey

Somebody PLEASE tell me if the length of this piece is detrimental to the experience of reading it it’s like 4k words. Here’s something I’ve been kicking around for ages. Frankly I am shocked I have something at all after a year

“Odd couple” is the best way to describe the friendship between you and Sasha. You’re awkward and responsible and outwardly boring. He’s highly social, wild, and intriguing. You’re genuine to a fault. He’s an expert in facades; he is a facade. You’re human and he’s something utterly not.

The freak accident of affection between you two is...still hard for him to wrap his head around. It seems to be your fault. If you weren’t so pitifully earnest toward him he would have just gotten rid of you. You were aware of his true nature, and definitely scared of it, but you kept going out of your way to be the Good Roommate™, to play friends. He had to let you live, just to see what the fuck your deal is. Now it’s too late. Now he wants you around.

You are the only person in the world that he has shown his real body to.

Some of his victims have seen it, but you’re the first person he intended to see it. The decision was quiet, perhaps a little impulsive. A simple exchange of “What are you, Sasha?” and “I don’t know. Wanna see?” had you both going to your bedroom and locking the door.

For the first time in his life, his heart pounded as he shed his clothes. He almost didn’t want you to turn around and look. It might be better if you only knew the carefully curated version of him, the handsome appearance he painstakingly crafted for the easiest social life. Even though you already knew he wasn’t human and pretended it didn’t matter, what if you saw him now and knew with absolute certainty that you didn’t want to look at him ever again? He would have to swallow you whole. He wasn’t sure if he could do it.

Regardless he said, “turn around.”

He showed you the unvarnished form that he had inherited from his mother. To be frank: It’s a predator’s body. Worse that that, it’s a monster’s. There are features and junctures of him so uncanny it must hurt the logical mind to observe them. If you were ever looking for the perfect rebuttal to the existence of a loving God, look no further than his cruel mouth.

He crept onto you bed looking like this, towering over you, your bed-frame screaming to protest the weight. He’d have to cut you off at the source, if you were to scream. And though he could smell the fear wafting from your skin, could practically feel the constricting blood vessels and tightening muscles in you, you still asked him, “Hey, is it more comfortable? Do you prefer being like this?”

Honestly? He isn’t sure there’s a body that’s comfortable and natural to him anymore. He’s so used to a human state that anything else feels awkward, even when it’s easier to shift to. As you took his massive claws into your hands and examined them with gentle curiosity, though, he was struck by the warmth of you. It was a long time since anyone had really touched him. It might’ve been even longer for you, loner that you are. Which meant you were the only person who could understand the way he felt in that moment.

He flopped over next to you, letting out an embarrassing dog-like whine, but you just laughed sweetly, and shifted pillows around to accommodate his bigger size. His feet and tail still dangled awkwardly off the bed. “You can relax in here,” you said. “You’re always welcome, since you’re my friend.”

You rambled about your classes and professors until all the adrenaline had left your system. He didn’t say much in response, but you didn’t mind. After a while, you could almost meet his preternatural gaze. You even dozed off like this, with a monster beside you, you utter weirdo. He put his head closer to your chest and felt your sleeping breaths for hours, thinking that your throat would be butter-soft under his teeth.

Sasha knows very little about what he really wants. He’s not sure if he’ll stay in his major, or in school, or even in human society. He knows for certain, though, that he wants more time to study you. He wants just your quiet voice and humble body heat and the understanding that, whatever he is, it isn’t going to chase you away.

So you two keep doing this. Every few days he’ll skulk over to where you are and make room for himself, and the two of you will talk for hours. Sometimes he shifts. He doesn’t always want to, but you get more comfortable with him that way. You...seem more keen to pet him when he looks and acts like an animal, and he wants you to touch him so bad he’s worried he’ll start asking for it. Could he ever live it down, if he started asking to be coddled? No. So he wags his tail and butts his head against you like that isn’t it’s own special brand of pathetic.

It’s not like you’re one to judge, though. You’re just so happy to have a friend that comes to hang out with you. You’ve never had very many of those, but of course Sasha knows he’s extra special. There’s much he’s learned about the world from his strange perspective, and you’re always excited to listen to his stories.

You do understand that he needs to eat a lot. You see him clear out four bacon cheeseburgers as a snack once, and he cracks jokes about how breakfast was red bull and adderall, but you know that it’s just a part of his biology that works against him. So you go out of your way to cook more meat, and give him bigger portions than anyone else, ignoring the way your blatant favoritism must look to the other roommates and occasional visitors. He doesn’t bother explaining that your idea of a big meal is like his idea of an appetizer, and he never will.

He doesn’t talk about the people he eats, either. He’s starting to think you don’t realize he does that.

(If you really don’t know, if this is the way you treat him when you don’t know, there’s no fucking way he can tell you.)

As for you, you talk about your courses and your classmates. From the way you talk around it, he’s mostly figured out the sad shape of your childhood and he decides that’s why you’re so weird and naive.

Mostly, you tell him about your hobbies, and your taste in TV shows. That’s when something in you is unlocked, revealing you to be more witty and giggly than your initial impression. It’s gratifying to know most other people don’t discover that side of you, like being the only prospector who knows where gold is. You tell him about everything you used to watch and play with your best friend, back when she had time for you. He’s a little confused by just how fervently you love things, how you start to care one day and then never, ever stop.

He never did it before, but now the two of you watch garbage TV together. (You tried to invite your best friend to join you, but to Sasha’s satisfaction, she gave you that cringing sort of smile and told you she didn’t have time.) Every Friday comes a new episode of Crater County, this schlocky supernatural police procedural, so every Thursday night you ask him to watch it with you. He’s a busy man, of course, but he’ll fit it into his schedule since he knows you so look forward to it.

This Thursday you must have forgot.

Somehow, in the early morning on Friday, you slip away without Sasha noticing. He wakes up to the honks of geese and distant cars, and the ever-present hum of electricity. As he thinks of pestering you to make ham and eggs, just to watch you get annoyed, he notices the conspicuous lack of your heartbeat.

He knows better than to doubt his hearing. But he still goes into your room across the hall to find the bed unmade and unoccupied. He almost goes to check your pillow for warmth, only stopping when he realizes it’s...stupid, to do that. He stays in the doorway for a long moment, overly-conscious of your scent. Then he goes to pace in the empty kitchen.

It hadn’t occurred to you to say goodbye to him, or leave him a portion of breakfast as you usually do, so you must have been in a hurry. Distantly, he remembers your fast food job. You probably got called to cover for someone at the last minute. Even so, shouldn’t you have said something to him? So that he wouldn’t wonder? Because he’s—

—well, you called him your friend.

It bothers him the more he thinks about it, while he showers and gets coffee and goes to class. The two of you haven’t talked since Monday and it feels weird. You always tell him when you’re going out, so what happened? Where can he even find you?

Not that he would need to find you. Sasha isn’t clingy. Clingy is his ex making alt account after alt account to pester him on instagram with stupid questions like, “are you seriously trying to ghost me you asshole?” And Sasha isn’t doing that. He hasn’t even texted you yet, because you haven’t texted him, and you always text first. If you don’t go through with the trouble of asking for him, he absolutely will not bother coming.

You haven’t sent so much as a “hey!” in the last seventeen times that he’s checked, so. Guess you guys aren’t hanging out. Whatever. It’s not like he doesn’t have stuff to do. He’s behind on several classes, a habitual skipper, and there are four other people begging him to come out tonight. He hasn’t hunted in a while so he should probably do that too.

He should go and talk to other humans, re-acquire their speech patterns and body language. He should catch himself when he makes gestures you would make, stop himself from making them. That’s why he goes to lunch with a friend group he met last month, and fits in with them seamlessly—or, almost seamlessly. No one can say he isn’t a good talker, slick as oil and quick with comebacks, but he’s a little more sensitive than usual today. While he’s in the middle of charming them he slips up and says something you would say.

“Isn’t that a Crater County reference you just made?” One girl says to him, stopping the conversation cold. “I thought you hated nerdy stuff like that.”

Sasha laughs shortly. “What? Says who?”

“Says you. You laughed at someone’s Supernatural tattoo at the party, remember?”

“It was a fucking horrendous tattoo. And I don’t like Crater Country or whatever, either, I just know some lines because my,” his throat feels like a desert, but he continues, “my roommate is obsessed with that shit.”

They brush over that thought soon enough, shifting focus to upcoming concerts, but Sasha can’t get comfortable again. He feels like he forgot how eyes work, and his are going to slip and turn reptilian in the middle of this well-populated restaurant. He’s scared his hands are going to morph into paws. In the end, he excuses himself before he can finish his meal.

Since he’s still quite hungry, Sasha decides he’ll drop by the butcher and get a few pounds of beef chuck to tide him over until dark. He’ll go to that fancy shop with all the grass-fed cruelty-free organic stuff, because he’s passionate about the well-fare of livestock, and definitely not because it’s just down the street from your job.

But since he’s there, anyway, he’ll pass by and peek through the windows to see what’s happening there.

Your restaurant is packed. A sports team, or special event or something, has filled every table in sight, and more people queue up at the register. You’re boxing fries and passing them over to waiting customers’ trays. Even though you’ve got mountains of food to work through, you’re smiling. It takes only a few seconds to find out why, following the arc of your eye up to a man in the same uniform as you.

The guy is tall and average-looking, and he keeps leaning toward you to talk like he doesn’t know how to speak loudly even though he works in a goddamn kitchen. Sasha doesn’t know him by face, or by word of mouth, since you’ve never told him about a co-worker that can make you giggle so much.

Why hadn’t you told Sasha about the funniest man of the century, huh?

More importantly, why hadn’t you noticed the way this asshole was looking at you? Staring so intently, exaggerating his expressions, mirroring you. All the same tricks Sasha has used before but with none of the grace, and yet somehow you liked it from this guy when Sasha had seemed scary to you.

He just can’t understand. That wouldn’t be such a problem if he hadn’t believed that he did understand you, and the way your mind worked. You had said Sasha was your friend and you had sat in the truth with him, relieved to see him for what he truly was, and you had been asking after his health and his happiness, wasting nights with him, cooking for him, cuddling up with him, and now here you were forgetting about his existence with another friend that he didn’t know about.

Sasha has been cheated on by a partner in the past. They left him one night and came back in the wee hours smelling like a fresh shower, with traces of someone else’s odor still clinging to them. It hadn’t felt like anything, to know that they were sneaking behind his back. Not a betrayal, no sting or ache in the heart he supposedly had. He broke up with them a week after, and that, like all his other breakups, was simply annoying. Sasha had always felt like he wasn’t with any of the people he was with. He was watching them, and touching them, and living among them, but there was some kind of invisible barrier between him and all the world. So when they broke a connection, well, what was there to even break? How could he care?

And why did being cheated on come to mind when he saw you happy with some other guy?

Sasha would later find out that you pulled a twelve hour shift that day, and, pushover that you were, you didn’t take a break long enough to check your phone. But he doesn’t stay to watch you, he really couldn’t. A pit had formed in his stomach, some void, some black hole that he had to attend to.

He leaves you there in your job and your apparent fun, none the wiser, and goes to the butcher. He gets himself a rack of ribs, and a few pounds of steak, and a heart just because the shop had one on hand and they were happy to serve a customer with such deep pockets as him. He gets a couple of cheeseburgers for the ride home and finishes them in a few bites.

As soon as he knows your other roommates aren’t home, he tears into the paper packaging of the prepared meats and gorges himself over the kitchen sink, soiling his shirt with myoglobin. It all tastes like ash, disappearing into him the way so many things do. When he’s done, when every last shred of flesh and sliver of bone has been swallowed, his stomach growls.

He’s always been this empty. Maybe that was the thing you saw that made you so afraid upon first meeting him—the bottomless trench that he actually was.

You said he was your friend. You knew what he was and didn’t back away. But you have so little else in your life. If you gained anything more, real friends, real family, a lover, wouldn’t someone as hollow and alien as Sasha be easily discarded?

There’s nothing for it. He has to go and hunt now.

Your co-worker is pitifully easy to discover. By checking the likes on your posts, he finds the creep has been hounding you for three weeks now. His unmitigated social media addiction leaves the entirety of his existence splatter across the internet. Sasha learns and forgets his name. He knows exactly what place he’ll be at tonight, with whom, for how long. He shifts to look exactly like you, heads out and stops at the right street corner with a bulky gym bag, waiting.

It’s so easy. Sasha can play You, but this guy hardly deserves all that effort. It’s enough to show up magically with your face, even if your clothes and piercings seem out of place. All Sasha has to do is bat lashes and flash a smile that he has already memorized—your stupid sincere grin that had made you, like the sun, difficult to look at directly—and this idiot thinks the person in front of him is really you, out on the same night by coincidence. He’s happy to see you, and happier still that you want to go somewhere together. He lets Sasha take him by the hand, convinced that the two of you are going out for drinks through innocuously empty backstreets. It doesn’t strike him as weird that you’re so energetic and flirty all of a sudden. Asshole.

He at least has the decency to carry the bag, no doubt hoping to come off as a gentleman.

“Why a duffel bag, anyway?” He marvels.

“To change clothes before I go home, silly,” Sasha tells him, leading him further into the night.

It turns out the co-worker is deeply uncomfortable with silence. He cracks jokes that aren’t funny, to which Sasha politely chuckles for what is only ten minutes but feels like an hour.

“When you kept turning me down,” he says, predictably, “I was worried you had a boyfriend or something.”

“Why would I not tell you if I had a boyfriend?” Sasha croons in your voice, fighting with all his will-power to not crush your co-worker’s hand. They’re finally on a quiet street, between two condemned houses, where there are no cameras and no pedestrians.

“Haha, I don’t know. You’re like, really private. That roommate you talk about all the time? The one going to the same school? I honestly feel like I know more about her than I know about you.”

“You mean, ‘him’? Sasha?” Sasha blinks owlishly with your eyes, his heart melting a little when he imagines you gushing about him to other people.

The guy laughs nervously. “No, I mean Maya. Is Sasha another roommate? Have you mentioned her before?”

Really. Maya. That “best friend” who basically pretends you don’t exist, who takes up valuable real estate in your mind when some people who have spent months getting to know you don’t even get a text.

Sasha gives up on looking friendly.

Your co-worker has finally sensed something is off, wincing as he tugs his hand out of Sasha’s vice-grip. Stretching out his fingers, he asks, “Hey, how much farther ‘til we get there? I swear we’ve passed like, three bars already...”

He doesn’t get to say more because Sasha lets out his teeth and goes for the throat.

It must be said that a warm meal always beats a cold one, but other that that it’s a shitty fare, gristly and lacking in flavor. This guy’s blood, fresh from the veins, is flat and forgettable. Even the marrow of his bones disappoints. At least he didn’t put up a fight...though maybe some enrichment could have saved this boring dinner.

Sasha feels more bloated than full when it’s all over. He wipes down and changes into fresh clothes, stuffing all the bloody garments into the duffel bag. He still feels kinda gross, and considers a long, hot shower while picking muscle fibers from between his teeth.

Are you going to worry about your co-worker? Are you going to miss him? Will you cry if they identify his blood on clothes found in the dump? Will you even tell Sasha why you’re crying?

Sasha snaps out of his deep thoughts when his phone buzzes. The text from you reads:

hey! i forgot to ask, are you on for crater county tonight?

What the fuck. Renewed frustration flushes through his system. What is he, your backup plan? He has a life—actually, many more lives than you! You should know better than to screw around with his time. He shouldn’t even dignify your bullshit with a response, but he does anyway—

At a party

And your answer is,

oh ok

we’ll watch it some other time

have fun!

…

Stay safe ok! Call me if you need something

It’s such a low blow he has to wonder if you’re doing it on purpose: you’re telling him all the same things he’s heard you tell Maya when she blows you off. He can hear the disappointment and embarrassment in your voice, the way you assure her of your eternal affection and concern while she practically dismisses you. Once he’s imagining your face, then, all he wants in the world is to look at it.

He’s a good runner. He’s barely out of breath when he arrives home, tossing aside his sweaty hoodie and kicking off his shoes while he quietly closes the door behind him. The dishwasher is running. He can just make out the low moan of the central air system, and one lazy heart thumping in the living room.

For a moment you don’t notice that Sasha is there. He gets to watch you quietly. You’re languishing on the couch in your bedclothes, staring blankly at the No Signal screen on the TV with a bowl of popcorn untouched on the coffee table. It surprises him. He hasn’t seen you with an expression this dull in a while.

But it disappears in an instant.

“Sasha!” You bolt upright, your face brightening like the sky at dawn when you find him standing in the doorway. “Did the party end already?”

He doesn’t know what to say.

You glance back at the TV. “Um, I swear I wasn’t going to watch without you! I was just…”

“Were you waiting for me?” He asks.

Your expression flickers, betraying the anxiety in your eyes before you have the chance to look away. Why did he even bother to ask? You’re here for him, like a puppy waiting for their owner, and suddenly he’s flushed and queasy—no, it’s not sickness that he feels, it’s butterflies. He’s so delighted he feels dumb, all of his frustration and embarrassing angst vanishing in an instant because all he can think of is how sweet you are.

“Ah,” he laughs dryly. “I’m screwed.”

Before you even know to cry out, he’s thrown himself at you, arms coiling around your waist. The two of you fall back on the couch.

When you get your bearings, you scold him. “Sasha, don’t just do that! You scared me!”

He mumbles, “I had a bad day.”

“...you did?” Your left hand cups his head, almost protectively, and your right strokes his back. “What happened? You’re not hurt, right? Are you hungry? I have some stuff in the fridge—”

“Can we just stay like this?” He asks.

“U-um. Well...” You must be thinking of your other roommates, who could walk in on this scene and “misunderstand” the relationship you have with him. You don’t want to cause weird rumors or tension. But he wants you so much he can’t pretend to be above it anymore. He squeezes you just a little bit, betraying his own desperation, so you say tenderly, “Of course we can.”

It’s scary to be honest. Sasha considers it contrary to his nature. However, he has never in his life avoided adapting or transforming to get what he wants. If he has to bare himself again to endear himself to you, he’ll do it.

“You’re the best friend I have,” he admits, “and I didn’t see you all day, and I missed you.”

Your heart quickens. “Sasha…”

“I know I’m being clingy. I just can’t help it. Say you missed me too. Say I matter to you.”

“I did miss you,” you murmur, your smile bleeding into your voice. You pull him closer. “It feels wrong when we don’t talk all day. And I worry about you, you know. I never see you make a proper meal.”

“I like it better when you make it. So keep cooking for me. Please.”

“I was going to do that anyway,” you say.

His whole body thrums with satisfaction. You care about him so much he can feel it all the way through. He’s soaking up your warmth and savoring your smell, face pressed into your neck. Twisting his hands into your shirt, he finds that he resents your clothes. He even resents your flesh and bones for barring direct access to your heart. Right now, though, he’s almost content with a body in his grasp, a pulse fluttering under his lips.

God help him, he’s been starving for this.

[sainzproductions]

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧 ⋆ 𝐜. 𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐳

where you belatedly realize, you and carlos may never want the same things in life

SHOWBUZZF1 carlos sainz and y/n y/l/n are reportedly broken up, according to several media outlets. y/n's absence in the monumental race week of monza had raised early suspicions regarding their current score, and the succeeding grand prix's after seemed to further the speculations. her absence was dearly missed during carlos's outstanding feat in singapore and the celebrations thereafter. although the couple's relationship has been widely regarded as a private and lowkey affair, in this instance, it seemed to confirm that the childhood sweethearts had ended their eight year relationship quietly.

username oh fuck me....

username this is my roman empire😭😭😭

username the og wags are slowly being chipped off one by one☹️

username these men are really brutal. once you start to try and assert more importance in their ever busy life, they will drop you. eight years or not!!

username fuck him sideways and frontways. wym eight years!!! that's a WHOLE ass child😭😭

username yn is better than me, i would have said sm "he don't know how to eat the cat" or something!!

username ah the right of passage once every driver reaches their prime

username fr he's gonna do a lewis 🐐🐐

username shut up, you're corny <33

↶*ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊ-

liked by charles_leclerc, danielricciardo and 5,194,920 others.

carlossainz55 qué hermoso fue amarte, my greatest and dearest love.

translation: how beautiful it was to love you.

username my heart hurts for some reason.... 💔💔💔

username my parents 😭😭😭😭

username how beautiful it WAS to love you

username a stab would have been sweeter 🥲🥲

username how dare he be so beautiful and sad😭💔

username why😭would😭you😭say😭that😭

username what if this was my 13th reason, then what!!!

username this can't hurt me because i can't read 😌😌😌

username we win illiterate girlies!!!

username **delusional girlies!!! fixed it for you 🥰🥰

username thanks, you live in xxx-xxx-xxx county right? expect me!!! 🥰🥰🥰

username STOP i was joking 😭💔💔💔

liked by maxverstappen1, landonorris and 2,193,029 others

yourusername eternally grateful to have known and loved you.

username PLEASE FOR THE SAKE OF MY SANITY!!! THROW SHADE AT EACHOTHER!!! BE MESSY!!! SAY HE CHEATED AND SAY SHE'S A GOLD DIGGER OR SMTHING!!!

username fr when they're being so kind and so angsty about this... makes me wanna hurl 💔💔💔

username convincing myself sainz sr. paid her to do this cause carlos wants to be a politician in the future

username are you confusing them for the kennedy's

username let me COPE in the way i know 🫠🫠🫠

username seek help : ))))

username theraputic or a psychotic one????

username whichever one applies miss ma'am!!!!

username nice. always wanted to see what's inside her private account. didn't want it to be like this 😃

username there's no pleasing people nowadays, is there!!?

username tbf i would have taken the private account over a breakup 🥲🥲🥲

username yeah all i got was #distressed

username🕯️be pregnant🕯️

username 👁️👄👁️

username evil ass manifestation 😭😭

username WICKED DEVIANT HAG!! MAY YOU HAVE TRIPLETS!! QUADRUPLETS!!! MAY YOU HAVE CHILDREN EVERYWHERE YOU GO!!!!

username i got u sis yourusername,, i cursed her back😌😌😌

↶*ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊ-

SHOWBUZZF1 in separate posts, sainz and y/l/n shared a very brief but heartfelt anecdote indirectly adressed to eachother. the pair seemed to allude that their breakup was entirely amicable, without any ill will directed to eachother. sources tell media outlets, that the decision to part ways was, "well communicated and thought out. both sainz and y/l/n have very different paths, and this seems like the only reasonable decision." adding, "they're still very friendly, but not really friends— you know? i think they could never be as close or as truly open with eachother as they used to be, but there is still love regardless. you don't throw away a connection of more than a decade, just like that.... maybe this just closes a chapter, to make way for a new one."

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[peaterookie]

Trials and Tribulations of Scanning: Lupin III Manga

Hi!

It's been a while since I've made a proper Lupin essay, and this one is going to be a bit different from all the ones I've done too.

Throughout the years in the manga community, I've gotten very accustomed to the process of scanning and archiving this series, it's something that I sincerely do enjoy doing so I wanna just dedicate a post talking about it and also bring attention a huge project of mine.

Disclaimer that this isn't really gonna be a comphrehensive history with a bunch of details about the scanning process done on the series before I entered the fandom, I just wanna talk about certain parts that I think are worth writing and my experiences doing it myself.

Okay this intro's gotten long enough let's get started.

Let's talk about the tokyopop scans of the OG manga and HOW SHIT IT IS.

Oh poor og manga... you were doomed from the start from the moment you were uploaded publically. Because who the hell is going to want to read something that looks like this???

An important step when I scan my pages is cleaning, it is the process where you take the initial scans, which I call raws, and polish them to make it prettier. When you see the scans of the og manga, it is very very clear that the person did not bother to clean any of these at all.

The coloration of the pages (which should not have been there at all if they decided to scan in grayscale) gives it an unpleasant old vibe, and should have been editted to turn into something more black and white.

I honestly do not understand why anyone would just leave a page this bad and assume that people would be fine reading something that looks like this. I am very convinced that the quality detered some people from checking the manga out any further because at its worst, it's unreadable and the details of the art is hard to decipher.

It's very easy too!! I can easily take this place and edit it on my phone to turn it into...

This!

Ain't that much better already. and it only took me a minute to do just that, imagine just how better the rest of the scans would've been if the person gave a bit more effort to clean their pages?

One of the many things i've learned is that when you do something for a community, whatever you put out might stay there forever and become a permanent impact on the people using your product, so it's important to make it look good!!!

What is good about the OG manga + new adventures though is that there exists high quality scans of it, just in japanese. So while there is still no good scans of the english version, people can always find a better alternative elsewhere.

Shin Lupin III though... is a different story.

(insert cool transition here or something)

Here is what I really wanted to talk about.

Shin Lupin III, literally. has. no. good scans. It's all shit. You get trash or garbage and that is it.

"But Peater! What about the Tokyopop scans! They're pretty good right?"

You're absolutely correct! Until you realize that Tokyopop did not fully translate Shin Lupin III, leaving approximately 100 chapters worth of manga in horrible quality 😂😂😂

Those missing parts are the ultimate problem, and the guy that is now in charge of translating the rest of Shin Lupin, Oranges, does not do the scanning justice (the one above.)

I do not know what kind of source he uses, but it is absolute horseshit, and again, he doesn't seem to bother with editting them to make them look better. I'll just provide more examples, to really emphasize how horrible it looks. You can barely see what's going on with some of them.

Someone pointed a flashlight while scanning this

(Editor's Note: So it seems like Oranges did the bare minimum and fixed the scans on the San Francisco arc so he is slightly forgiven)

And what the Japanese scans? Hahaha, it gets worse.

From an simple look at it, you might be tricked into thinking that this is a good scan! has nice lighting, black ink, BUT THIS IS WHERE YOU'RE WRONG.

Look closer. The lineart is melding into each other, the cross hatching is blurred, the kanji is barely readable.

This is the works of an Al upscaling tool.

AND THEY DID THIS, FOR EVERY SINGLE PAGE! THEY LURE YOU INTO A FALSE SENSE OF SECURITY LIKE "omg!! san francisco scans!!" AND THIS IS WHEN THEY TRAP YOU INTO A MELTING POT OF AI SHIT TO NEVER BE ABLE TO HAVE GOOD SHIN LUPIN SCANS EVER AGAIN AND AM SICK OF IT!$_+$(2!(_(!_(+7(0#+#?@!

And so that's why I'm going to be doing something about it!

My project for this year is to rescan Shin Lupin III in higher quality. No AI upscaling involved, everything will be done by hand. Here are the previous panels again but scanned by me!!

See the differences now!! This is what happens when someone puts effort on their scans!! wowwwww

I've already finished scanning the raws for every single page, and now it is only time to clean them.

When will I finish this? I can't tell you, but I promise that it will be done and released before the year ends. I hope you guys are looking forward to this!!

Darn, I actually didn't get to talk much about my process and how i got into scanning huh? Maybe some other time if people are interested.

But for now, goodbye, and thanks for reading!!

[sophieinwonderland]

this is gonna be a bit of a long and vent-y ask, so sorry, but... regarding all the shit with syspunk and whatnot-

man, this sucks.

all of this.

i have two options.

fight against hateful assholes, fight for our existence, fight to be heard, knowing that some of these people are just going to use this as a reason to hate me more, never knowing how many of these people are ones i managed to get to think, for even just a moment, about our existence maybe being a thing, and how many of these people i just provoked more. never knowing how much i "won," worrying that i may have just set us back instead of pushed us forward.

or stay silent. never calling people out, never trying to cite sources, always triple checking that i'm not breaking some random person's dni just in case, being careful about every little step i take in the hopes that i'll be "one of the good ones." i'll get to say that i didn't break a dni, i didn't break a boundary, i didn't invade a safe space. i'll get to have that as something to fall back on, i'll be able to say "see? i do respect you, i deserve a bit of respect too."

but the reality is neither of these are good options. both of these don't win. if i have the courage to speak out anyways, speak out in spite of that fear, then i can be one of those that people point to. i could be someone's example of "LOOK ANOTHER ONE, INVADING OUR TAGS!!!" i don't want to do that. plus i know that syscourse can genuinely be triggering for people. if i invade a space i deem to be hateful enough to warrant me entering anyways, and that ends up just hurting someone who just really wanted a space outside of syscourse, then that sucks. that sucks really bad. maybe i'm the bad guy in that situation. i don't wanna be the bad guy.

but it's not like i wanna just stop, you know? some of my posts i've tried to be vague because part of me wishes that an anti would read through it. part of me wants antis to see it and realize that i'm trying. realize that this cycle fucking sucks. part of me hopes that if i'm vague enough, they'll keep reading to see if i'm endo or anti or not, and if i prolong the point until i say that, they might give me a chance.

but i doubt it. the only people still reading are likely pro endos. the antis probably realized anyways, or the checked the tags, or whatever, but they stopped reading. or maybe once they knew who i was they stopped giving a shit and stopped taking what i write seriously.

i don't want to give in. i don't want to be quiet or tiny or respectful to these people that constantly, every single goddamn day, continue to deny science, continue to harass people, continue to break their own dnis, continue to send hate, continue to be horrid humans. i don't want to shut up and let them do that. in fact, i want to SCREAM. i want to be SO loud and angry about it, i want to kick and yell and never back down but it's so exhausting.

but all of it is exhausting. no matter what i do it's exhausting.

i'm so sick and tired of it. i'm so sick and tired of the constant invalidation. but most of all i'm sick and tired of being scared.

i'm so so scared about this. i'm scared i'm making the wrong decision. i'm scared i'm not helping our cause. i'm scared i'm making it worse. i'm scared i'll be a target. i'm scared that i'm saying the wrong things or using the wrong tags or invading the wrong space or even just- i guess i'm just scared to exist as an endo.

there is no guidebook for how to handle this. i'm pretty young, i'll likely be a part of the generation of people that gets to see at least some of this work pay off. but thinking about that future is scary. i want to be able to say i was on the side that fought for science, the side that fought for acceptance and love, the side that fought to be heard, i want to be able to say all that. but the idea that i might mess it up and further hinder our progress scares me.

everyone else seems so confident that they're on the right side. everywhere i go, it's "these people are bad, these are good," even within communities.

"yeah i'm anti endo but i fucking hate people who harass endos."

"yeah i'm pro endo but i don't think endos should be called systems."

"yeah i'm an endo and we should be invading these tags more."

"yeah i'm anti endo and i don't think they deserve any respect at all."

it's a lot to keep in mind how much i have to address everytime i speak. i have to keep in mind all my thoughts on anything, i have to make sure i seem credible and like i understand what i'm talking about. it's a fight for "how long can i get them to listen? how much of this do i have to water down for them to take me seriously?"

but none of it works anyway. sure, we get a couple people. and those couple people are so important to our cause, the few people we managed to convince, but for every person who decides to give us a shot, 10 more people just scrolled past, or got filled with even more rage, or worst case scenario, might have decided to harass me or another endo or pro endo.

it's a dilemma of "do i fight for this despite that because of the hope that in the long run, if we do this enough, people willl finally fucking listen, or do i quiet down and worry about it?" and even if i fight, thats a dilemma too! because, do i fight aggressively? respectfully? loudly? do i invade tags? do i break dnis? do i respect these people in hopes that they might accept me or just say "fuck it, they're never gonna respect me unless i get in their face?"

it's at times like these i remember that maybe i just gotta take a break from syscourse. gotta get off tumblr and draw for a bit or something.

but there's always the constant reminder that the future is relying partially on how many people stand up and riot. if i stand up and riot, maybe someone else will too. the more that we do stand up without fear, the more likely someone else will. and the more people that stand up the louder and harder to avoid we'll be. and if that happens, eventually people will realize that we're right.

i just wish that it was easier.

it's a nice reminder that there are people like you who do stand up, people that inspired me to be loud. it's nice to remember that i have a place that understands.

it's phrases like "the future is plural" and "punks protect endos" that make me so happy to exist and be part of this. we are here, and we are "plural, as in there are more of us than you think." (credit to @orange-orchard-system for the slogan)

stuff like that reminds me that this is part of the process. we are doing well.

the best way to win is to stay positive and be happy and be excited for the future rather than dread it.

so thanks for inspiring me! thanks for making me remember that this is all so worth it in the end!

(apologies if this is incoherent at all. i was kind of just rambling to ramble at the beginning)

I'm glad to have been able to inspire you. And yeah, trying to do the right thing is complicated. Knowing how and when to fight is difficult.

But can I tell you a secret?

Fighting for plural acceptance doesn't always look like literal fighting. Sometimes it's making Plegg culture blogs or plural-writing prompts.

You mention Orange Orchard System, and you should know that they rarely get directly involved in syscourse. And yet, through simply raising awareness and normalizing systems of all sorts, they're fighting bigotry in their own way every single day.

The way they're fighting back is just as important as what I do, if not more so.

All that is to say that you don't need to be involved in syscourse to make a difference. If you want to step away and focus on helping plurals in other ways, that's totally fine! I promise you won't be letting anyone down!

[modern-inheritance]

Human Rider Changes

Brom wasn't altered the way Eragon was, but in MIC I'm gonna say even the human Riders were altered by the bond, beyond the slightly more elfish appearance and pointed ears.

Over time Humans start getting the more pointed tooth shape that unaltered elves are born with. It takes FAR longer, but they also start to grow a very thin version of the controllable tapetum lucidum, but most can't use it the way elves can at will.

Human Riders also begin to get faster reflexes, larger energy stores, slightly higher than normal strength and endurance for their physiques, increased night vision in general, and I really really want to say longer periods of high neuroplasticity (ease of learning, adaptations, etc) going further into adulthood (though neuroplasticity IS seen in adults, it's not to the extent seen in childhood, but don't quote me on that I haven't read up on it very much lately) but I don't have a reason for that really. I feel like elves naturally keep a fairly high level of neuroplasticity, maybe some effect of dragons ancestral memories (god damn i wanna explore that too and for some reason I think it would lead me to papers and fish and birds and I'm....I'm not up for that just yet).

Magic use can speed up these changes, though it's still a very gradual process. One of the risk factors, however, is that while their strength is not terribly increased, there's still a posibility that their strength can be dangerous to them. Magic use is typically restricted to practice and training while being taught by masters so that explosive use of magic won't lead to a far faster increase in strength, before the bones have adapted to it.

Elves, when they have access to it, incorporate a leafy green called Tinleaf into their diets, along with a variety of (currently unnamed, let me cook) fruits and other vegge that grow in Du Weldenvarden and were brought to the Rider's island. Tinleaf and these other foods are high in dietary titanium, nickel chloride/sulfate, and zirconium silicate, all used in their bone structure which incoperates alloys that allow them to be so resistant to their strength without shattering bones by walking and hitting things. When out of the forest/not around sources of these food/plants, elves have supplements they can take if without natural sources for too long.

wait what was i talking about

OH.

These changes are why Arya is still a bit baffled/confused when she's with the Varden and learning of all these things these humans can't do/don't have going on with their bodies. Brom's changes were still early stage, but he still had some, and she just kinda assumed they were all like that. She was practically a kid at that point, confused why the books she read didn't mention any of that stuff, and then Caleb, Sam, Simon and the rest are having to explain a LOT.

I also found it both jarring and a nice reminder when reading Murtagh (shhhh look okay I just want the fancy cover one and then I'll finish it the ADHD is not good with these things I can't just sit and read anymore it's painful and I don't know why. You know what, send me a hurricane, knock my power out for a week, and I'll finish it before the deluxe release.) that Eragon is NOT the norm for human Riders. He is not human anymore. He is more elf. His strength and energy stores are FAR beyond what human Riders were capable of, unless i just haven't reached some plot twist yet.

I would say that it made the Forsworn make so much more sense, but a VAST majority of the Forsworn we know were elves. Human Riders could have had so much resentment towards their elven counterparts, even with their partners by their side and all the gifts the bonding gave them, it could have been almost crushing to see what elf Riders could do even without formal training.

I wanted/want to put Murtagh on somewhat more even footing after the war in MIC. Without Galbatorix's spells, he's still far more human than Eragon, but he's stronger than any other human man of his size, stature and physique, he's faster, he learns faster, and he can maintain and cast spells well beyond what a regular human mage can, even with training. With more Ancient Language under his belt, more time with Thorn, more practice, he would be (and is) well beyond anything any human could accomplish even with both training for decades and a wealth of natural talent.

Maybe at some point a more significant though still gradual increase in strength, speed, ect, all the elfy things, is introduced to the Rider Bond using the Word/the Name. Resentment from the non-elven students is something I worry about if other Rider species/races are left with nothing to put them at an equal level.

this got off the rails. whoops.

[tinyinvadr]

New chapter!

Psychoborrower 2

Chapter 14

The only thing left keeping us from turning on the Astralathe was the assortment of thick vines wrapped around it. We couldn’t PSI-Blast through them, and they were too thorny to pull apart. We needed help from a plant expert.

Similarly to the bees, the vines left a trail to follow. They obviously had a source. One that we would surely find at the end of the trail.

Along the way, we crossed paths with Adam, who was in the middle of studying a large carnivorous plant. God, those things freak me out.

“Adam? Is everyone out here? Geez, I thought this place was supposed to be super secure and hidden.”

He chuckled. “Lili sent me to find some plants to help Truman. Though, these ones seem a little too aggressive.”

Just as he said that, the leaves of the plant snapped shut, nearly snatching up his hat.

“What about you? What brings you two out here?”

Once again, we gave a very vague explanation about the Astralathe, and Adam decided to join us on our search, figuring he’d be bound to find a suitable plant if he stuck with us. I felt bad not telling him that Truman was actually awake, but technically I wasn’t even supposed to know about that, so it wasn’t my place to share that information.

Adam examined the vines closer, then snapped his fingers as he came to a conclusion.

“This looks like the work of Bob Zanotto!”

Bob was the final member of the Psychic Six. Master of Herbaphony, uncle of Truman, and husband of Helmut Fullbear.

Raz paused, confused. “But Lili told me he got fired years ago. What would he still be doing here?”

“I’m not sure. My guess is he wanted to stay close to his plants due to his psychic connection with them. I know he had a greenhouse out here somewhere. I bet that’s where these vines came from.”

Sure enough, at the end of the path, we found the greenhouse. Inside was an intoxicated and disheveled-looking Bob, tending to a plant.

“Agent Zanotto-”

One of the vines threw an empty bottle, nearly missing us.

“Hey! That almost hit us!”

“Well, it was your choice to come in here.”

Adam stepped forward, attempting to address him again.

“We’re interns from the Motherlobe. I’m Adam, and this is Raz and Flint. We need your help with a few things. The Astralathe is covered in vines, and Truman-”

Bob suddenly commanded the vines to grab us and throw us out of the greenhouse.

“I don’t wanna hear about him anymore, you hear me?!”

Before we could argue any further, the vines slammed the door in our faces.

“Great. Now what do we do?”

My question was answered only a moment later as the vine, now calm, quietly pulled the door back open and beckoned us inside.

We reluctantly stepped back into the greenhouse, and the vine made no moves to attack us. Once again, Adam studied the plants.

“Hmm… I remember reading about this. You’re acting on Bob’s subconscious, aren’t you?”

The vine waved itself up and down, as if nodding.

“Which means… deep down, he wants help.”

The vine nodded again.

Raz showed it the psycho-portal.

“Do you think he’d mind if we checked in on him?”

The vine shook its head, then snatched the portal, placing it on Bob’s head and then turning him around for us. The three of us then astral projected into his mind

His mental world was a little island in the middle of the ocean. On it were three large flower pots, and we found Bob trying to tend to a desolate, lifeless garden.

“Strange… I don’t normally get visitors. It’s usually just me and my garden.”

I quickly scanned the dirt in the flower pots. The closest thing to plants I could see were a few dead-looking twigs.

“Uh, no offense, but this doesn’t look like much of a garden. Where are all the plants? Don’t you have any seeds?”

He sighed. “I lost those a long time ago. They’re scattered somewhere across the sea, but I’m not a good swimmer.”

Raz let out a nervous laugh. “Neither am I.”

There had to be some way for us to reach the other islands without swimming. The answer came to us in the form of the psycho-portal door.

For some reason, a manifestation of the door remained in Bob’s mind, and we were able to knock it over and use it as a raft, allowing us to travel across the water.

We asked Bob if he wanted to join us, but he seemed hesitant about getting on the raft. We promised we wouldn’t be gone for long, and headed off, following a trail of flower petals in the water until we reached another island.

The most notable feature was a large pink bottle, so we pulled the cork out and headed inside to investigate. The bottle led us into a kitchen, and at the end of it was a pink refrigerator that functioned as a doorway into a swamp. It was there that we found out first seed. And… a moth.

“Aww, it’s a moth! Hi mothy!”

“Huh? Oh, hi kid. What are you doing here?”

“Just getting some seeds for Bob’s garden.”

“What?! Oh no, you don’t wanna do that. Do you have any idea how dangerous those things are?”

The Moth took flight, taking the seed with it. We chased it down across the swamp, getting some help from belching bulbs that looked like Bob. Eventually, we followed the Moth into a ruined greenhouse belonging to Tia Zanotto, Bob’s mother.

There was a dark pit on the other side with a drain at the bottom, and the Moth dropped the seed down into it. We levitated down, entering a cavern illuminated by glowing bottles of liquor, pouring out their contents like waterfalls.

“Stay away from there! You’ll just put him in a bad mood.”

The aforementioned Bad Mood appeared. They have incredibly strong defenses, and cannot be attacked directly. Thankfully, Adam had experience dealing with them.

They key was to use Clairvoyance on the Bad Mood in order to see its source. Destroying the source calms the mood down, which makes it disappear.

Continuing on, we found another room in the greenhouse, though this one was almost completely flooded with liquor. At the far end, we found a coffin with a wooden replica of Tia inside.

The implication that she died of alcohol poisoning was very worrying considering the state we found Bob in. It seemed he had adopted her unhealthy coping mechanism.

After sifting through several empty bottles, the vines found the seed and gave it to us, and we returned to Bob’s island to plant it.

It only took a few minutes for the seed to sprout, growing into a pink rose that looked like Tia.

Bob was wary of the idea of planting more seeds, but we assured him that this would ultimately help him process his painful memories.

The next bottle we found led us to a shipwreck. Once again, the Moth showed up and took the seed before we could get it. It was aggravating, and even I had to admit it. Real moths are way cuter, anyway.

When we went inside the ship, the interior looked exactly like the Motherlobe, only flooded. After taking down another Bad Mood, we followed the Moth into the flooded depths of HQ. We took a Bob Bulb along with us so his belches would make an air bubble for us. It smelled really bad, but it was better than drowning.

We eventually made it to Truman’s office, and we found the seed at his desk. Like with Tia, there was a wooden Truman at the desk, and he looked like he was in the middle of shouting at someone. This had to be a memory of when Bob got fired.

The second seed sprouted into a plant that looked like Truman after we planted it. Bob seemed to be a bit more at ease with us continuing our search for seeds, seeing as nothing bad happened with the garden.

A third bottle surfaced, and we almost could’ve gotten the seed and left right away if Raz hadn’t provoked the Moth, but I couldn’t be too mad at him. The world within this bottle was a massive wedding cake, and damnit, I was gonna eat the walls!

We traversed through the cake until we finally found the seed at Bob and Helmut’s wedding ceremony. A wooden Helmut stood in front of the Feel Mobile, holding his hands out. This was the only happy memory we’d come across, but it was bittersweet knowing what happened in Grulovia. For all Bob knew, the love of his life was dead.

Recovering the three seeds pieced the story together, and it was heartbreaking. He was so distraught after losing Helmut that he fell into alcoholism. He became so dependent on it that Truman had to fire him, since he wasn’t in the right headspace to continue working with the Psychonauts.

Shortly after planting the final seed, the Helmut plant started to grow out of control, with the Tia and Truman plants doing the same. The Moth arrived, hovering in front of the monstrous plants.

“I tried to warn you, but did you listen to me? No. Now I need to protect Bob. AGAIN.”

It circled him, spinning a cocoon around him and guarding it as the plants began to attack. The skies darkened, and the sea became a whirlpool. Before we could do anything, the plants knocked us back. Luckily for us, we landed on the psycho-portal.

Adam deflected the plants’ projectiles with his yo-yo while Raz and I fired rapidly at them. We were able to temporarily knock them out, and Raz and I took that opportunity to break open Bob’s cocoon. His emotional distress unleashed a Bad Mood and a wide variety of negative thoughts. We were able to fight them off, but the Moth just knocked us back onto the raft.

Even after defeating the Bad Mood, Bob was fully willing to stay in the cocoon. We needed to get the plants under control. Raz decided to change tactics, and called out to the Helmut plant.

“Hey! Why are you doing this? I thought you loved Bob!”

“Ha! I don’t really love him!”

At that, Bob broke out of his cocoon.

“Helmut would never say that!”

The Moth grabbed onto him, dragging him away by force.

“It’s not safe here! Come with me. You won’t feel this at all.”

The three of us combined our power to take the plants down before the Moth could take him away, and soon, he regained control. The plants shrank back down, and the Moth became a mask, which Bob tossed aside.

“Thanks for your help, kids. I think I can handle this garden myself now.”

I looked out at the ocean and saw more seeds floating on the surface of the water. Those first three seeds were only the beginning on Bob’s road to recovery.

“Oh, don’t worry about those. I’ll just take them one at a time.”

We returned to the physical world, and Bob agreed to help us with the Astralathe. The four of us headed to the Heptadome, and shortly after we got there, Helmut showed up.

“What happened to your beard, Bobby? Are those gardening tools?”

Both Bob and Adam looked thoroughly confused. Raz and I kept quiet, though, thinking it might be better for Helmut to explain for himself.

“Bobby, it’s me. Your PSI King. My body’s still in Grulovia, so I’m borrowing this one. These kids found my brain earlier and helped me get back to my senses.”

Bob smiled. “They just helped me get back to mine, too. Oh, Helmut, I never thought I’d see you again! I mean… I’m not seeing YOU, but… you’re back.”

“Heh… Can’t get rid of me that easily. Now, come on, we’ve gotta do something about that beard. It’s a mess!”

The two of them walked off, seemingly forgetting about the vines. But as they left, the vines retracted, Bob’s link with them continuing even from a distance.

For a full minute, Adam stood there in shock.

“Wait, so… Helmut Fullbear is back? And his brain is in Nick Johnsmith’s body? This is huge! Does anyone else know?”

“Just Morris and Gisu. They’ve been brainstorming interview questions for K.L.O.B.”

“In that case, I’d better go fill them in! Who knows? Maybe l can convince them to interview you guys too! I can tell this is gonna be in the history books someday!”

Brimming with excitement, Adam rushed back to the Motherlobe, and Raz and I were alone once again.

“Okay… This is it, Flint. We’re gonna fix everything. You ready?”

I don’t think either of us were ready for what we were about to face. But we had to. For the sakes of both our families, we had to set things right.

“Nope. Let’s do it.”

[madaboutmunson]

Let me hear you speaking just for me - Part B

This was a pretty long chapter so I've split it in two just for ease of reading :)

I Think I Could Have Been Someone - Chapter 7b

Ao3 Link

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Link to fic overview and all parts

Chapter Summary: Eddie gets the chance to interview Steve for his book.

Author Notes: This is a mature story, definitely 18+ only.

Tags/Warnings: rockstar!AU; band; touring; music industry; alternate universe; drug usage; alcohol abuse; performing; enemies to lovers; road trip; stobin; platonic stobin; platonic with a capital P;

Word Count: 6.2K

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“Is that what your book is gonna be about?” He asks, sitting back in his chair. Eddie fusses nervously with his notepad and looks down at the blank page. Now, he’s been asked outright about the book's subject. It almost feels a little vulnerable.

“Yeah, well, I’ve been collecting pictures of artists, and I ask them all the same question, and the intention is to show a truth through words and the photographs,” Eddie looks up to find he has Harrington’s undivided attention, and that also feels a little strange, unnerving but not totally unpleasant. The admission of that in itself was weird, “Money and fame are great motivators, but not like music, right? People still make music even when those other things are no longer around. So I figured it would be interesting to see how artists felt about it at all different levels of fame.” Harrington tilts his head but says nothing, and Eddie feels like the quiet and his stare are pulling the words out of him, “So you are a huge star, right? Like, a household name, so you’d be in there, but then I also have my Uncle in there who has only ever played at an open-mic night once because I was too nervous about getting up there on my own when I was a kid. He has, like, zero interest in music being anything other than a source of enjoyment for himself. Even if he is pretty damn good, actually.” Eddie smiles fondly at the W on the inside of his wrist and brushes his thumb over it.

“Can I think about it a little while?” Harrington asks with his eyebrows slightly pushed together, and Eddie realises he’s said too much, but he would have expected Harrington to mock him for it, not whatever this was.

“Yeah, sure, uh, maybe we could, um…” Eddie looks at his other questions that lead on from that one. Most people just say music is everything to them and gush about their favourite band or the first time they heard a particular song or their first gig. Harrington's ringed hand waves near his face before he can decide the next course of action.

“Thought I’d lost ya there,” he chuckles, “Tell me to shut up if you need to, but I think I could offer some pointers if you want?” He holds up his hands in submission, “But I don’t wanna tread on your toes,” Harrington looks up into his eyes with a smile, “I just really wanna help you out, Eddie. In any way I can, you know?” his head tilts to the other side as he pours himself back into his seat, spreading his knees further apart.

Eddie does not want to admit defeat on his project, and it didn't seem like Harrington was trying to sabotage it with his delay in answering the question. It felt almost like he wanted to consider it more carefully, which was unexpectedly kind of him. But, the realist in Eddie knows that if he gets off this plane without the answer, he might never get the chance once they touch down. Logically, he recognises Harrington does these things all the time. He knows how these things go, “You know what, sure. Why not?” Eddie smiles with a light laugh. In for a penny, in for a pound, he figures.

“Good. That's good,” Harrington praises, which also feels strange to Eddie. He didn't want this guy’s approval, right? Did he? No, that's ridiculous. “So tell me, Eddie, how many of these books do you wanna sell?”

“What? Like a number?” Eddie asks, a little confused.

“Just a kinda idea, that's all. So I know what you’ll need, in respect to my fans anyway,” Harrington says, putting down his drink and turning back to Eddie, “That's why you want me in the book, right? So, my fan base buys it? You don't give the impression of being an avid fan of mine,” He adds with a smirk, and that gives Eddie the distinct impression he’s aware that this whole contract was essentially a mutual use of one another.

“I want to sell as many as I can, and yes, shamefully, appealing to your fan base is part of that,” Eddie says with a small smile.

“Nothing to be ashamed of. It's just business,” Harrington smiles at him and looks around the small area, “Bring your camera,” he says as he gets out of his seat and moves to one of the plainer parts of the section, “Easier to edit out if it's less busy I figured,” Harrington says as he observes the light on his hand and seems to try and find an acceptable place to stand before untucking his shirt.

“Hey! Wait, whoa, what are you doing?” Eddie blurts out, nearly dropping his equipment in a sort of panic. Why was he getting undressed? This was not that kind of book.

Harrington laughs, “Just take the pictures, would ya?” He turns around, his back to Eddie. He pulls the shirt up and ducks his head, revealing a substantial menacing wolf tattoo and cute text stamp of ‘Wild Thing’ on his lower back and the ribcage heart on his arm.

Eddie obliges and takes numerous shots as Harrington slightly repositions himself and the shirt to make it look as though he’s been caught in the middle of undressing. It felt very much like a voyeur shot, especially when he ducks his head to hide his face.

Eddie’s alarmed reaction causes the curtain to flick open and Jesse’s head to pop out, but he only glances at Eddie to assess the situation and then sends his gaze and smirk towards Harrington’s exposed torso.

“Hey,” Eddie pretty much barked at Jesse, “consider this a closed set. He’s half undressed,” and whilst Eddie knows that is said mainly out of jealousy, he would do the same for anyone he was in a shoot with. It’s always felt like his responsibility as a photographer to keep his subjects feeling safe so they could open up to the camera.

“Easy there, big dog,” Harrington laughs, “Maybe if he’s gonna gawk, he can make himself useful.” Harrington removes the top entirely and throws it at a giggling Jesse, who fumbles to catch it.

Harrington stands one hand on his hip, the other beckoning to Eddie, “Dude, my ego isn’t gonna withstand it if you don’t get that lens back on me.” 

This isn’t a side of Harrington Eddie had expected to see, acknowledging his persona, playful, knows his craft and public. Though loathe to admit it, he didn’t mind this peek into his other aspects.

“Sorry,” Eddie says, looking between them, “It's just habit. Protecting my models, I mean.”

Harrington’s eyes widen briefly, “Well, I wasn’t expecting that kind of forcefulness from you, but from our last meeting, there was a hint that you could be a bit of a spitfire,” he smirks mischievously and then tilts his head and plunges his hands into his back pockets, “I’m ok though, more than used to it. No harm in having fun when doing these things unless that would interfere with your process?” Eddie observes him, and he’s almost softer somehow. He’s pliant with what Eddie wants to achieve, and honestly, he didn’t look bad doing it in a certain light. Eddie brushes that off again. He didn’t like Harrington, not like that. It was just another model body. Eddie adjusted the camera settings, focusing on the wolf tattoo as Harrington turned around again. "That ink's impressive. Gotta story behind it?"

“Oh, you know, typical rebellion, my body is my own, I’m a lone wolf, bullshit,” Harrington answered lazily, striking a few poses as Eddie snapped away.

Eddie chuckles, “Lone wolf? Are you ever truly alone? I can’t imagine that you are.”

Harrington laughs, “Oh, brace yourself for the cringiest truth,” he looked back over his shoulder at Eddie, “It’s possible to feel entirely alone with a room full of people,” he turned around and shrugged, “Sounds stupid. I know.”

Eddie knew that feeling only too well in the fallout of his failing business. He’d felt very much like that. People just didn’t get him or wouldn’t listen, so he felt incredibly alone and cut off whilst still going through the motions of being there.

He feels a slight tug on his sympathy. Two men, two very different paths, both ended up feeling exactly the same for a time. He hears his Dad’s voice in his head calling him a pushover, but he’d rather be a pushover any day of the week than what he became for a time.

“Everything ok, Eddie?” Harrington asks with what sounds like genuine concern, and Eddie nods with a crooked smile, “Good, thought I’d lost you for a second there,” Harrington smiled at him, and it looked concerned and laced with something Eddie couldn’t quite figure out.

“What about your other tattoos?”  Eddie tries to shift the conversation back to something safe.

Harrington turns around and poses for Eddie to capture the few tattoos on his body. For the most part, it turned out the tattoos were essentially meaningless other than Harrington was claiming back a bit of himself with each one. It’s not a big deal now, but for a time in product advertising or acting roles, tattoos were generally not welcomed. So, with every tattoo he went out and got for himself, it was a piece of Harrington they couldn’t sell that he could keep covered up.

Eddie couldn’t imagine being treated like that. Like a piece of land, a show pony, or a billboard. Harrington assures him that most artists go through it at some point when the people who funded them want to reap the harvest. With Harrington, who’d been lucky enough to have been brought up around money and got some pretty pricey people to look over his contract, he wasn’t as over a barrel as most eager wide-eyed artists are money-wise, but not even that could help with paying back what he owed, and the louder Harrington was about supporting specific causes, which he saw as human rights, the sooner they wanted to be paid back.

It started with the text on his lower back that reads ‘Wild Thing.’ at the time, he was trying to make a statement. Now, it just makes him laugh.

The Slayer tattoo on his lower abdomen was another joke. He’d been touted in the papers as some kind of playboy whose dick put women under some sort of obsessive spell. It was total bullshit. He wasn’t dating any more people than the average person his age, and one at a time, but the paparazzi and gossip columns kept screwing things up for him, so his romances were short-lived. He walked into a tattoo shop, saw the word Slayer and decided that was the tattoo for him. Even though he had no clue who the band was. 

Many years later, that did bite him in the ass pretty hard, though, once tattoos became a little more embraced, they started appearing in his pictures. His fans caught wind of it, thought it was a band Harrington liked, found out about the band and although very popular as they were on the metal scene, it brought the band into the mainstream again for a year or two, by a pocket of his fans getting into them too. So, in the midst of this, Slayer invited him to play with them. This began a month-long crash course of all things Slayer for Harrington, and he actually became a fan.

“No way, man!” Eddie gasped, completely amazed. “I can’t believe you got to play with one of my favourite bands!”

Some refilled drinks had appeared, but Eddie had hardly noticed them being topped up after they’d sat down and Harrington had gotten dressed again.

“Hey, if we get these projects tied up nicely, I’d gladly give their people a call for you. They’re real awesome guys,” Harrington beams at him.

The heart-shaped rib cage on his arm was something again he rolled his eyes at. When Eddie pushed, he simply said, “Matters of the heart aren’t always as soft and pliant as we might have been taught.”

The last tattoo on the list is the heart gramophone in the centre of his chest. “What about that one? That has to be the most unusual out of the lot,” Eddie points the end of his pencil toward the centre of Harrington's chest, where he can just make out the tattoo through the sheer shirt. Harrington smiles, and it feels genuine and if Eddie didn't know any better, almost impressed. “Yeah, this design was a collaboration. It’s kind of a tribute to a song that saved my life and also a reminder, “ Harrington smiled, and it wasn’t one of his smirks. It doesn't look like the type Eddie has seen in photographs of him. It looks real. “It’s also kind of the answer to your question, actually.”

Eddie notices he’s on the edge of his seat, pencil poised against his notepad. This flight had been quite the reveal. He wasn’t best buddies with Harrington or anything, but finding him helpful and pleasant to be around had helped Eddie soften towards him, which was paying off. The less Eddie bristled, the less Harrington hid behind his image.

“My Slayer educational journey opened me up to listening to more heavy music, and exploring that genre was interesting. Turned out I’m not a super thrashy guy, but I appreciated it. From that, I started to listen to Metal that was born during my era, ya know. I found that Nu Metal stuff,” Harrington stops and looks at Eddie like he’s reading him.

“Yeah, I know that genre. It’s kinda my era too, but I am very much a thrash guy also,” Eddie smiled as if to reassure him he could carry on.

Harrington looks him over and relaxes back in his seat, “Well, I heard this song by Korn called Twisted Transistor and apart from literal parts of the lyrics,” he laughed, “It very much resonated with me.” 

Eddie watches Harrington swallow, and his arms wrap around himself subtly, “So, in answer to your question, it’s not really what music means to me. It’s very much that I don’t feel I could survive without it. It’s caught me so often when I was free-falling into the depths. The right song at the right time can be a lifeline, you know?”

That only intrigued Eddie more. What the hell happened to this guy? Is he just talking about overindulging and pushing too hard, or was it something much less hedonistically caused than that?

“And I also felt that music gave me one way I could really express myself. Even if it has to be heavily coded sometimes,” Harrington gives him a shrug of a smile.

Eddie can see that vulnerable look on Harrington and decides to change the subject. He has his answer for the book. “I remember you going through that phase,” Eddie grinned, “It made the news for weeks, that photoshoot and music video reveal.” 

Harrington hums, “Yeah, it did, didn’t it?” And Eddie almost feels like maybe that might not have been what it seemed.

Eddie puts down his notepad, but the dictaphone is still running. He and Harrington talk about music, their favourite artists, first and favourite gigs, guilty pleasures and phases, and before he knew it, the time was up. A huge surprise to himself, but he was disappointed the conversation was over.

“You’ll have to return to your seat now, Mr Munson,” Jesse advises, whom Eddie had utterly forgotten about for a while.

“Oh shit, yeah, of course,” Eddie said urgently as he scrambled to get his equipment together and packing it away to take back to his seat.

Once packed up, he turned to Harrington, “Thanks for your time, Harrington. It was a pleasure,” and he meant that. Maybe his therapist was right. He felt lighter for letting go of all that hate for a little while.

“It really was,” Harrington beams at him and stands up to shake his hand.

As Eddie turns to head back through to the other section, he feels a tug on his sleeve. He’s half expecting to see Jesse, but he knows as he turns from that heady cologne it’s Harrington.

“So when we get back to the hotel, you’ve got your pick of where to stay from what’s available, but if you don’t like anything on offer, my suite has multiple bedrooms, and you’re welcome to one if you need it.” Harrington offers, and Eddie is almost floored by it.

“Uh, well, I kinda like to have my own room, in case of different, uh, schedules,” Eddie says. He didn’t want to seem ungrateful for the offer, but he didn’t want to be kept up all night by Harrington and friends.

Harrington tilts his head and smiles, “Yeah, that’s fair. How about we go through the photos and the checklist for the residency later? Drinks on me,” he laughs, and it’s fucking charming. The checklist has been signed off, and maybe Harrington is just looking for another way to hang out with him, and he guesses he understands that, in respect of he’s enjoyed their interactions today. The more amiable they were, the better this project would turn out, and after what he learned today, it sounded like they both really needed that.

“It would be a fantastic opportunity for me to finally be able to give back. You’ve been helping me for years,” Harrington’s eyes flick to his and then back out the window.

“What?” Eddie frowns in confusion.

“I have a picture you took of me, and I,” he looks at the ground for a spell, his hands on his hips. He looked embarrassed but built himself up to say, “I felt you captured me in that shot, like my very soul in that moment in time.” He shook his head with a soft laugh, “That’s why I’ve been bugging you for years to work with me. I wanted to be around someone who really saw me, just like you did in that picture.” Harrington shifted his weight from one leg to the other, “It helped me feel less disconnected when I’d look at it.” Eddie sees another odd thing, Harrington gives him an awkward smile. The kind that people give you when they already know you're about to reject them somehow. 

Eddie ponders that maybe this photograph he enjoyed so much didn’t hold the weight for Eddie that Harrington thought it did, but that was pretty normal in his photography experience. He didn’t look at every family portrait he’d taken and gush with pride like the family did when they looked at it. Maybe this time around, he could genuinely capture some magic if he got to know Harrington a little more. Today hadn’t been so bad at all.

“You know what, yeah, that would be really helpful, thanks,” Eddie smiled.

Harrington’s face erupts into the biggest grin he’s seen to date, and he wishes he hadn’t packed his camera away, “Great, see you later then, Eddie,” he flicks his hand in a wave, and they both return to their seats.

Eddie sits in his seat and sighs contentedly as the seatbelt sign lights up. Maybe it didn’t need to be such a chore. When a flight attendant comes around to check his belt, they also hand him another notecard, which he opens quickly. It has a telephone number, a smiley face, and ‘Harrington’ written, not signed, underneath it.

Upon landing, there is a very direct split in the people on the plane. The majority of people, including himself, are requested to remain in their seats. Harrington is swamped by security and bustles through their section, quickly off the plane first. That makes sense, Eddie thinks. He’s gotta beat the crowds and get to the hotel.

As the plane door opens, Eddie hears the crowd's noise, a mixture of cheers, screams and the shutter clicking, and this is on the tarmac. He hasn’t even got down the stairs. The shades of his and some of the security’s sunglasses show their purpose as the flashes go off. So many Eddie thinks their lenses look like star-crowded skies, but there was only one star in which anyone else was interested.

A few minutes after Harrington has descended into the chaos, one of the lesser security team members appears back through the door and waves everyone else off the plane, down the stairs and towards a small executive coach.

Once everyone is in their designated seats, they all have a small gift bag with their hotel key card, an overpriced designer bottle of water, some towelettes to freshen up with, and some snacks already inside.

The security member stands at the front of the coach and pushes her shades on top of her head, “Ok, everyone, we’ve got a mix of veterans and newbies to the Harrington convoy, so I’m just gonna go over this for ya. Please give me a minute of your attention. It's super simple.”

“Mr Harrington, as you can see, is currently running distraction for us,” she gestures out the tinted window to where Harrington is still signing things and taking pictures, much to Eddie’s surprise, “But he can’t do this all day, so our side of the operation has to be slick,” she says looking around the coach as the driver starts it up, “So let’s keep it simple, go where I tell you without argument if you have a problem between here and your hotel room I’m your point of contact. Once in your rooms, please stay put until we call you to notify you the area is cleared down. There will be fans and professionals alike trying to infiltrate the hotel to get at Mr Harrington or information on the upcoming performances, so consider this your first reminder that strangers aren’t your friends on this trip.” 

As the coach finally departs the tarmac to head for the exit, she smiles at them, “That might sound a little restrictive in principle, but it’s for your safety and the safety of others. However, for the duration of your stay, you can consider yourselves under the Harrington family umbrella,” That gets an excitable buzz throughout the vehicle that confuses Eddie, and a handful of others clearly don’t understand the significance of that either.

The security team member smiles at the puzzled faces, “Anything you need during your stay, anything at all,” she emphasised with a smirk, “Is on Mr Harrington or the label. When you get to your rooms, the number for your point of contact will be taped next to your phone. For any room service or housekeeping, you can call down to the front desk.” 

She pulls her sunglasses back down, “And last of all, remember to have fun,” she smiles and disappears into her seat to applause.

It only took around fifteen minutes to get to the hotel, but they were to remain seated as their luggage was retrieved. They were assured it would be returned to them shortly and to just go to their room and wait for the call.

Eddie finds his room without trouble. He finds the number taped next to his phone and notices a key with a different room number on it.

He walks around his sizeable room, reclines back on the bed, and watches TV while waiting for a call or his luggage to arrive.

Twenty minutes and a knock on the door, Eddie is reunited with his luggage and work gear. He stops the security guy before he leaves, “Uh, I think someone left another key in here, but the number on it isn’t to this room,” Eddie says, gesturing towards the phone.

“Oh sure, yeah, that’s to Mr Harrington’s suite. He wanted to make sure if you changed your mind about the entourage rooms or wanted to catch some more candid shots, you had the access to do so. The number on it is just a decoy-type thing. Probably a good idea to reassure him you got it,” he nodded, “Anything else I can help you with?”

Eddie shakes his head, “No, that’s great, thanks,” he smiles and closes the door behind the security guy as he leaves.

Eddie takes out his phone and the note card in his pocket and messages Harrington.

I got the key card and gift bag. Thanks. Let me know if you still wanna go through the photographs later. If not, it's understandable. It looked crazy out there! Eddie

Moments later, his phone pings. It’s Harrington.

No problem, buddy. It might be fairly late, though. I got a few interviews and hotel obligations before I’m free. Steve 🙂

Cool. Let me know when you’re free, Eddie replied

Eddie spends the next hour or so making some barely edited versions of the shoot on the plane. Just making them look less flat and adjusting some aspects of the lighting to make the tattoos really pop. 

He can’t hear much outside noise in the hotel room, but Harrington must be here now as there is some kind of kerfuffle outside, which is enough to shatter the peaceful sanctuary of his room. Eddie gets up from his desk and takes a peek.

The relatively busy road they had travelled to get to the hotel was at a standstill. Someone was trying to redirect the traffic because a solid wall of fans was going partway across. The two lines that look like they are coming out of the hotel, which he imagines but be more fans flanking the hotel entrance, it was challenging to say for sure at this height.

Soon, the outlines of the crowd start to be bitten into by sharp, bright white stars. Like popcorn, there are few at first until the area is almost entirely flooded by repeated small explosions of light, and then they die out. Just like the main chunk of the crowds until barriers are gone and traffic flows as usual.

A while after the phone rings in Eddie’s room, a member of security advises him he’s free to roam freely around the hotel and its pool, theatre, casino, and stores.

He does just that, but his mind is plagued by the conversation on the plane, how he diverted the press and fans, and the hospitality in general. He had the whole plane in the same hotel as he was, and whilst Eddie chugs a cocktail slushie that he didn’t have to pay for because it’s all taken care of, he paces around the slot machines, and wonders if Harrington was truly as awful as he’d built him up to be. It’s not like he knew about the aftermath.

He turns a corner and comes face to face with a life-size Harrington cut-out, directing anyone with his charming half smile to check out the all-new Harrington-themed slots. Eddie blinks a few times, shakes his head, and returns to his room. There really isn’t anything they wouldn’t put him on.

Eddie’s phone goes off several hours later, and he wakes still wrapped in the robe from after his bath and a plate of green stalks from the chocolate-covered strawberries he had treated himself to.

He blindly reaches for his phone to find a message from Harrington.

I’ll be ready in 20 if you still wanna hang out.

Eddie goes into full panic; he thought the lack of messages throughout the evening meant he wasn’t going to be available, yet at nearly midnight, he’s carved out some time for Eddie.

He scrambles to get ready but then thinks better of it and texts back a much more relaxed message than he actually feels.

Yeah, cool. See you then.

Nearly twenty minutes later, Eddie finds him outside the door of Harrington’s suite. Buckley is right next to the door, and a few members of her team line the hall. Eddie gives her a nod and a forced smile of greeting. In return, she raises an eyebrow and turns away again. 

She held her earpiece momentarily and then turned to Eddie, “You can go in.” She says simply, and Eddie does as he’s told.

He walks in to find Harrington in a different set of Rockstar attire. Another set of clothes can be seen slung over a chair, some blue jeans and a white T-shirt. Staple Harrington uniform. That’s how he looked on most of his albums and tours, not this dark, brooding version of himself.

“Hey man,” Harrington says almost pleasantly, not the couldn’t care less greetings he’s had before, “Didn’t know if it was gonna be too late for you?”

“Nah, I’m good,” Eddie says with a laugh. He’s not even sure why he does that, “Thought you might be wiped from the day.”

“I’m used to it, plus I’ve kinda been looking forward to this,” Harrington says with a small smile, “We got a full bar of drinks, and I can order some food if you're hungry. Just help yourself to whatever you want, you know?” He leans a bony hip against a table and gestures around before his hand migrates naturally back to his hip.

They while away the next half hour chatting about music, looking through Eddie’s pictures of other artists, and talking through Harrington’s expectations for the checklist of photos.

Eddie, weirdly again, is enjoying his company, or maybe it's the energy drink he’s gulping down? 

“Hey, could I see the ones you took of me last time? Could you talk me through ‘em?” Harrington asks with hopeful eyes, his hand on Eddie’s shoulder.

“Yeah, of course. I mean, my work has improved since then, but I still have them,” Eddie says, leaning over to find the correct folder.

Scrolling through hundreds of photos is pretty fun. Harrington makes a few self-deprecating jokes about how he looks now compared to then. But Harrington's mood drops as they move into more backstage candid shots. Eddie knows he could completely ignore it, and he tries to a few times, distracting him with anecdotes, but Harrington will reopen the same picture repeatedly. It’s that same barrier shot, and he’ll look at it, then Eddie, but say nothing, and it’s confusing as hell and a little annoying. So Eddie bites the bullet.

“You don’t like some of these shots or something?” Eddie asks cautiously, “I mean, feedback is feedback. It will help me ensure I don’t make the same mistakes twice.”

Harrington furrows his brow in confusion, “It’s not your work, Eddie, that’s great. It’s just,” he stops himself from the next thing he’s about to say and huffs in frustration, “You can’t make the same mistakes again, because those people aren’t around anymore. Fucking assholes. Traitors!” Harrington seethes, and he brings up the same barrier shot again.

Eddie feels like something is unspoken, and he keeps moving back to this picture where he thinks he saw him for who he truly was. But Eddie had just taken a tried and tested shot.

“I’m surprised this one is your favourite. It was everywhere at one point,” Eddie tries to lighten the mood.

“Was it? I wouldn’t know. They took all my social media away from me,” Harrington grumbles, and Eddie can see him slowly sinking in on himself.

“Yeah, man it was on every kind of merch and your posts, fan stuff, news articles everywhere. But I guess you wouldn’t have seen the full impact of it without socials.”

“It fucking sucks sometimes, you know? Getting treated like a fucking kid. Being pushed and paraded around like a living fucking billboard for whoever is throwing their money at us that week. This life is fucking gross sometimes,” Harrington complains.

Eddie can’t help but feel how easily he’d give up most things to be as rich as Harrington. He’d kick the fame stuff to the curb and just disappear with a boatload of cash, flipping everyone the bird goodbye.

“I mean, that sure sounds like it’s sucked, but it could have been worse, dude,” Eddie says, consoling him a little bit, also trying to get him out of this side of himself that is slowly grinding on Eddie.

Harrington huffed out a laugh, “Really? Do you have any idea how embarrassing it is to have that happen, like explaining to your peers, ‘Oh, I’d love to promote your charity, but my socials are run by that eighteen-year-old cyborg in the corner because they are viewed as more responsible than me’? Or worse, fans asking me questions at panels that I have no idea how to answer because I have never seen whatever post they are referencing?” Harrington looks annoyed almost, “Then I get labelled as high or drunk or worst of all that I don’t give a shit.”

Eddie has an excellent idea of what it’s like to have something hit him out of nowhere, the source of which is a post he had no idea about. Eddie’s lip twitches and he is about to suggest looking at some of the pics he took at an open mic night a few months back, but Harrington is still going.

“And for what? I got a little wasted one night and posted a rant video. Like, who gives a shit? There are people out there who do way worse and keep their socials. They get fully cancelled and then turn up a month later, and everyone forgets about it! That’s just the modern world! People just need to suck it up!” Harrington spouts from his imaginary soap box.

Eddie's relaxed hands are balled fists, his smile is a tight line, behind it a set of gritted teeth on a clenched jaw. 

This guy is precisely the privileged prick he thought he was. Unaware of the consequences of his actions. They’ve been hidden from him so well that he’s complaining that they didn’t let him get drunk all the time and spout his unfounded woes night after night to the public. Eddie wished his biggest problem was being unable to retweet his friend’s dog’s wedding pictures.

Eddie is livid and feels like he has a chance to stand up for everyone Harrington has potentially bulldozed in the past without a care in the world about who he affected.

Keeping his voice barely level, he asks, “Do you even remember what you said in that video? The one that got you banned from socials?” Eddie figured he’d need to specify because this asshole would be able to differentiate between them all.

“No, man, I was fucking wasted. I bet the people who watched the video couldn’t even make out half of what I said. It was a stupid little video,” Harrington huffs out a laugh, making an unholy rage run rampant through Eddie.

“I wouldn’t say that,” Eddie sneered, “I think they heard you loud and fucking clear!”

Harrington’s head snaps to him, “Are you ok, man?”

“No, man, I’m not fucking ok. That stupid little video ended my career!” Eddie snarls out his words as he feels the bile rise in him, “You were complaining about your sad little rich boy life,” he mockingly pretends to cry, wringing his fists by his own eyes and fake pouting, “and you felt that I was special enough to make the cut for the list of people that did you wrong!”

Harrington shakes his head in disbelief, “No, that’s impossible. Someone would have told me.”

Eddie makes an incorrect buzzer sound, “Wrong! They wouldn’t because they needed you to not be sad-boy-Harrington and get on with your fucking job. Sent you to a nice swanky rehab after making a show of it. That you were ‘struggling’ with some injury or some fucking bullshit.”

“What?” Harrington asks, entirely in shock.

“That was, of course, complete fucking lies too because you hopped the rehab fence and were seen dancing and drinking the night away in some bar with your fans!” Eddie is raising his voice now.

Harrington just stares at him blankly. His mouth partly opens and closes like the pea-brained goldfish of a man that he is. God, Eddie hated him.

“You complained about how I wouldn’t work with you. Which was not true! I couldn’t! I had no space in the calendar. But the twisted whispers from facts to whatever met your ears apparently gave you the right to call me out publically.” Eddie glares at him as he stands up and paces away and then back to him, “I didn’t even see the original video when it landed, but I didn’t need to because your fucking nutcase cult of fans harassed me incessantly for years!” Spittle flies from his mouth as he rages at Harrington, purging everything he can at the confused man sitting in front of him. “And all for what? For a meaningless picture, you read your fucking bullshit into.” Eddie feels the venom fill his body, and he bites a visibly crumbling Harrington right where it hurts most, “I saw nothing in that photo other than a ticked checkbox. This isn’t a special fucking shot. I just wait for the correct marks to be hit!”

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

Songs that inspired this chapter:

Stripped - Depeche Mode

Come as you are - Nirvana

[celestialsun123]

Okay, tumblr is my ‘safe space’ other than my room, so I’m going to talk and anyone who wants to can listen. Aka all the stuff I’m gonna say will take up a lot of room so take a look under the ‘keep reading’ if you care enough to lol

There are a couple of JIC trigger warnings: mentions of church/religious settings (not talked about in a negative way), doctors, uhh there’s a time where I talk about someone yelling at me?

without further ado, here's my vent for the day.

I stress out so much over liking anything posted by autistic people. I’m so sorry, I have literally nothing against you, I just freak out for no reason cause once I heard someone on YouTube say ‘if you aren’t autistic your opinion is completely invalid here’ and I’ve taken it to heart 🥲

I will go to like a post but then go ‘wait… that explicitly says it’s about autistic people/autism… I can’t! I don’t count!’ (And I am so salty about stuff like that cause I’ve thought to myself ‘well what if I’m agreeing about something that they approve of?’ But it still isn’t enough to justify it to myself.) (again, I HAVE NOTHING AGAINST Y'ALL)

I was considering asking my doctor if I should get evaluated for stuff but I also really don’t want to because what if they just say ‘nope, you’re normal. Why’d you even bother?’ And I KNOW I’m not neurotypical because I have GAD (Generalized Anxiety Disorder) and there is no WAY it’s normal to feel like your entire day has been completely and utterly ruined by someone not telling you clearly that if you didn’t go eat the leftovers of your family that you wanted, it’d be passed on to the others.

Oops, that’s not where that was meant to go, but I’m keeping it.

My original point BEING, I have a feeling I don’t JUST have GAD, I wanna get evaluated for Autism and ADHD, but the imposter syndrome (can I even use that here? I’m not autistic so does that mean it’s… rejection or something?) is too much and I’m gonna wimp out of bringing it up to the doctors. I’m fairly certain I have ADHD tho, cause everything I’ve watched I’ve basically agreed with. (And yeah, the internet isn’t good source material, but there are some good people on there.)

Also I'm so worried that I'm just copying people. Like, I didn't used to stim until AFTER I learned about autism and ADHD, so what's to say that I'm not just copy pasting? And that's not genuine and it's probably also rude.

Oh and on the topic of being too sensitive for my own good, let’s talk about how I deal with people scolding me. (Other than my parents.)

I genuine want to cry any time it happens. I had some pretty bad experiences of that kind of thing (maybe like 3-4 years ago?) and they happen to be some of the only clear memories I have of pandemic times cause everything kinda blurs together from that time. The clearest one and the one that affected (is that the right one?) me the most was when some of the neighborhood kids got in trouble for hurting each other from a tree in my sibling’s best friend’s yard. I was a witness, but I wasn’t paying a ton of attention to the situation. The sibling’s best friend’s mom asked me to tell my version of the story, so I did. I tried my best not to twist anything and to make it clear that I wasn’t sure about anything. Without me noticing (cause my back was turned) one of the kids mom’s (the one who had done the potential hurting) came up behind us and started yelling at me for ‘lying for no reason’ and ‘being rude’ and how ‘her kid would never do anything wrong, so if I wanted to go tell lies for fun she would go and tell my parents.’ Y’know, the kind of thing you tell semi-kids.

So from then on, I tend to have to choke back tears when not my parents scold me.

Another time (this week actually) was when I was scolded for acting my age at church. Now, I’m not a CHILD, so I see where the person was coming from. But I was also having fun with my friends. We were joking around, and one of the old people came up and scolded us. I thought I was fine till I got home and then realized that stimming in any way, even in my room, now felt childish and horrible and like I shouldn’t be doing it. (I’ve gotten over this, I’m back to normal. Ish.)

So yeah. I guess I take things too seriously? And it REALLY frustrates me. Like I can’t just let things go, can I? No, cause that’d be EASY.

Also, don’t you just hate it when you feel the urge to stim (hand flapping specifically in this case) but your muscles/wrist is in pain for no explicable reason?

[bonnie-is-bumbling]

So here lately, my special interest has been airplanes! And not the typical cool fighter jets or anything. But the Boeing 747, or the new 777x, various Airbus or Embraer models... It's only right I watched a video on the De Havilland Comet.

(Picture snagged from google. If you're the owner and would like me to mention you or take the post down, let me know, I'm not argumentative ♡)

This is my take on it- know I do not work in aviation, and to be WAY too honest, I'm not GREAT at research. I'm way too wary of sites, sources, etc. I'll state what I know, and what I think I know. If I'm wrong, please don't be mean about it- I'm very happy to learn more!

Just look at the absolute aesthetic of this plane.

I wonder if modern aircraft could pull off the engines embedded in the wings or if that in itself is a trouble this plane had. I could have heard why they aren't that way at some point, but brain.exe has rebooted since. SO I'm gonna throw what I DID retain from a few videos in this post!

The Comet was the very first commercial airplane using 100% jet engine power, and it was an absolute improvement over piston-engine, propeller flown planes commonly used. It could fly faster, further, and above the weather. It almost didn't happen, because jet fuel just wasn't/isn't very efficient until it reaches a certain altitude.

That said, the Comet was subject to cabin pressurization issues, as evidenced by the planes basically evaporating from time to time mid-air. But mind you, as unsafe as this may seem now, in those days, the Comet was near, if not THE pinnacle of safety in aviation.

While I can't recall if I've ACTUALLY researched it or not, or if it was discussed in the documentaries I've watched, and articles I've read... I would imagine this engine design would have one very big accessibility issue. I would imagine to work on the engines, mechanics would have to work around the wing, if not remove the whole bloody wing.

Not to mention, modern jet aircraft are generally built to have their engine fly OFF the plane and avoid the fuselage if they absolutely MUST detach. The Comet could not do that. As scary as a detached engine sounds, modern planes are built to still be able to land of they lose an engine. Twin-engine jets can fly on one, though I'd imagine getting the right balance is tough on pilots. And a B747 or an A380 can fly on two, but again, this depends on SO many factors.

Either way, were a failure to happen in a Comet engine, I could be wrong, but generally I'd say my only hope would be to hope the thing wasn't on fire and about to spread to the plane. Though therein does lie a curiosity of mine-- What WOULD, in theory, happen if someone took the design of the Comet and threw nothing but new, modern technologies into it?

I mean, modern engines, modern computer systems, safety systems, entertainment and comfort systems... Literally everything except for how it looks... Modern materials, of course. I wonder if it would be about the same, or if it would be really cool, or, on a darker note, would it be catastrophic? Isn't it wild how far aviation has come? Our modern airplanes are just these cool, graceful metal birds in the sky. Birds that are a LOT bigger up close!

Oh my, I didn't fly on it unfortunately, but the last time I was at an airport, it was either a 747 or an A380 I saw at another terminal through the windows and HOLY COW. I really do forget they're THAT big. To wrap it up- planes are really cool! Those who work in aviation or know about planes, I'd love to hear what YOU think would happen, if someone made a 'modern comet' and tried to fly it. Or if you have any interesting tidbits about it, I wanna see itttt! Until later, all. Cheers ♡

[youn9racha]

Back To Sleep

pairing: chan x afab!reader

genre: smut

synopsis: after an intense intimate session that left y/n ‘sleepy’, chan doesn’t seem to get enough of them. what shall chan do to get their attention without necessarily waking them up?

warning: unprotected sex, sex toy being used (vibrator), overstimulation, slight somnophilia, dub-con (?) but not really, reader’s highkey a heavy sleeper, slight squirting

words: 1.6 k

extra notes: so due to popular demand, this has won over ’arms.’ i kinda got this idea from a nsfw generator 💀 so bare with me on this. anyhow, like i‘ve mentioned some posts ago, this saturday i’ll be off since it’s going to be my birthday, as well as my surgery, so if i disappear, it‘s just going to be that, so don’t worry too much. i don’t know how long the recovery will be, but for sure it won’t be that long. if you still wanna interact with me, follow me on twitter with the same username, i’m trying to be more active there. so, that’s it really, hope you enjoy this piece !!!

This is no way representative of the way Stray Kids act. They’re nothing but references of character, and in no shape or form is this how they act. And I am in no way romanticizing or glamorizing any toxic behavior exhibited, they’re just stories that is meant to be read. Readers discretion is advised.

Sigh.

Chan was only capable of doing at this moment, as he stared up at the ceiling, letting the insomnia surge through his body like a drink being spilled all across a fabric as to not annoy his beloved, that is y/n.

Prior to his bored state and his long staring contest with the roof above him, him and y/n had just got done from a passionate and fervent love making. Back when he was at the studio, where he was brainstorming for a song, he instantly thought for his main motive when it comes to writer’s block, and that was you.

Intially, it was innocent, he remembered your beautiful smile and how it radiates the room with positive energy when you showed your toothy grin. He remembered your contagious laugh that would not fail to make him crack a smile himself, even if the source wasn’t funny to begin. He remembered your voice, and how soft you sounded...

Or at least he tried to trick himself into thinking, but in reality it was not the case. It was when he started to think of your voice is where his sinful side started to creep in. He suddenly began hearing your pants, which then transformed into a full on whimper as he started to envision your naked self in a compromising position, waiting for him to pleasure you right there.

It was rather wreckless of him to just get up and leave his work early, but why would he just whip out his dick at work when he can feel the real thing at home? He couldn’t wait any longer and drove his way back home, and there he would spot you laying on the couch, in only his hoodie and panties while reading your book.

His early arrival caught you off guard, but to say you were unhappy to see him could not have been further from the truth. Before you could give him a proper greeting, Chan threw away your book across the room, forcibly leaving your spot, as he laid ontop of you with his lips attaching to your’s. Usually, you would protest since you had lost your place on this book you were invested in, but considering your handsome boyfriend had drove all the way from his work, early, and start handing you affections, who are you to be ungrateful.

Almost instantly melting onto the kiss, you wrapped your arm around his neck with his lips and tongues dancing into your skin. His hands would roam gurther down until he reached the hem of the shirt of his that you’re wearing, shielding itself underneath the fabric to touch your skin. He broke the kiss as he carried you to your shared room, embarking on letting out his imagination of you from his head.

After many rounds of steamy thrusts, kissing, licking, biting, moans and ”i love you”’s spread around the room along with the stench of sex, intially Chan wanted to run you a bath for the two to relax, but due to the tiring session, he had suddenly found your sleepy naked splayed in the bed. Not wanting to bother your angellic form, Chan had only rubbed away the excess fluids off of you, as he tugged you back to bed, you immediately taking in the blankets and turned it into a makeshift body pillow.

Chan later followed along as he laid in bed, and few hours later is where it lead to now. It could be his insomnia that was acting up, but he knew it wasn’t the case. He knew wanted to get something over with, and if it weren’t for the throb that he is feeling in between his legs as well as his sick vision, he wouldn’t know what it is. He grabs another look at you, your bare back was facing him as it raised up and down, following along you breathing.

He doesn’t know if he should do this, but he does remember the conversation that you both once had regarding one waking up the other by pleasuring them whether it’s done orally or using a sex toy. Chan intially planned to do it another day, but after many internal battles he was having with himself, he opted to change his mind.

Chan first opened up his side of the night stand and picked up your bullet vibrator, that he knew you placed there. In times wher he’s on tour, he figured that you purposely placed your beloved toy on his side to remind him that you do it on his spot which he finds very endearing of you to do. He looked at your sleeping form then back at the tiny pink device, hesitant if you should it. While thinking it through, he suddenly felt a stir and heard a slight mutter from your side.

Chan looked back and he sees you letting out a few sigh from time to time, and your discreet hip movements suggests that you were for sure in the middle of a wet dream. What sealed the deal is you sighing out Chan’s name while you shook your head in pleasure. That was his cue to start intiating his impromtu plan.

When he notices you not moving, your back now placed into the mattress, Chan discarded the blanket off of you, exposing your body out to the cold air of the room. You haven’t moved yet, and thank the heavens that you haven’t, as Chan positioned himself inbetween your legs, looking from your glistening core up to your unknowing sleeping face.

He gently placed his fore and middle finger in the sensitive bud, before dragging it down to your slit, sensing its wetness as he only allowed the tips of his finger to be inserted inside. It brought out a slight reaction from you as jerked into the sudden sensation, but luckily for him, you were still in dream land and left undisturbed. Chan pulled away his finger out as he grabbed the bullet. He spread legs apart, propping one of them slight upwards, as he started to shove the toy up in your pussy.

He wasn’t sure if the moan you had was from the dream or because of the slight stretch the toy had on you, but once again you didn’t budge and still haven’t fully awoken. That changed however, when he started to turn on the toy into the lowest setting.

You began squirming and moaning, your head stirred as you sighed out, “channie,” when sensing the vibration in the sensitive area of your lower region. You weren’t sure if this was part of your dream, or if it was reality, but never the less you were enjoying the sensation. Chan hummed and smiled as he sees you fluttering your eyes open, him sitting in between your legs while vibrations surged in between it as well.

“Ch-chan-?” You murmured as Chan hushed you, as your senses has started to awaken slightly when he had heightened the level, which made you moan at the feeling. You were certain taken aback when you woke up, but you were not complaining as your loving boyfriend simply strokes your cheeks, caressing your skin loving, contrasting to his vigorous clicking of the toy that is vibrating faster by the minute.

”Don’t worry, baby, its just me,” he cooed through your whimpers, his free hand holds into the soft tissue of your breast, two of his fingers trapping your pointy buds and tugging it. All this constant pleasure doubled with Chan’s hands massaging all the right spots, his lips and teeth leaving sloppy trails, his hardened cock sat in the soft skin of your thighs, right next to his hand that was essentially thrusting in and out the vibrating toy.

All this constant stimulation made you come undone as your breath broke and your legs shook, especially when the vibrations hadn’t come to a stop. The toy still vibrating inside you making you hold his wrist that held the vibrating, begging for him.

“please… please… its too mm—fuck!” You broke out your words, up until Chan pulled out the toy and stopped it from buzzing. You had pant to catch your breath, but that didn’t last long, as you felt something else being stretched inside you.

“Fuck,” Chan grunted as he felt your tight walls hugged his cock, making you moan at the overbearing plessure. Once adjusted inside you, his hips began moving in and out of your shaky and sensitive body. All the sounds in the room was making was the sounds of skin slapping against each other, tagging along with the strings of moans, grunts and cuss words coming out of the two of you.

“You take me so well, baby,” he spoke through his breaths and grunts as he placed your leg on his shoulder, you mewled out his name as you held him closer to you.

“Ch-channie! I’m gonna—ah!” You sobbed out as you felt your second—or third of the day—orgasm approaching, while he nodded and panted out saying he’s not far off.

Just a few more thrusts, and you came around him, your juices spill out, drenching the sheets underneath you as well as his cock. He felt the wetness underneath you, and he chuckled in disbelief, “oh my god, baby…” he exhaled, “you are incredible,” he looked down, making you laugh as you blush at his reaction.

It was a sudden reaction but a pleasant reaction for Chan for sure.

As your laughs died down, Chan opted to carry you to the bathtub so you can clean up, as he changes up the sheets. He looked at the stain in sheets with a giggle, in shock that he pulled something out of you that neither of you knew that you could do.

He would definitely do more so he can get more from you, but for now you both needed to cuddle and sleep through.

It’s been a long day..

[uppermocns-moved]

𝘢𝘰𝘵 + 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺'𝘳𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘣𝘦𝘥

eren, armin, levi, jean

𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 – nsfw (minors don’t like/reblog/respond), mentions of hard kinks, female reader. shifts in and out of canonverse/modernverse so use your imagination! 

𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘯 𝘫𝘢𝘦𝘨𝘦𝘳 

always dominant. can be hard or soft dom depending on the mood.

into harder kinks (with heavy communication and consent): somno, breeding, impact play, breath play, free use, etc.

super high sex drive and usually always horny. when he’s bored, he’ll jerk off to pictures you’ve sent him and porn you’ve made together (he’s not camera shy), but never let himself cum, just lazily edge.

he edges for days at a time – not only goes it feel so fucking good, but it gives him thicker loads to pump inside you later.

obsessed with cumming inside you. he’ll fuck load after load as deep as he can inside you, watch in awe as it leaks out of you, then use his fingers to push it back in. he’s not shy about his possessiveness and this is just a further reminder that you’re his.

secretly doesn’t mind when you scratch up his back – he loves looking in the mirror and seeing visual evidence of how good he made you feel.

also secretly loves when you give him hickies in obvious spots. he does absolutely nothing to hide them, he loves reminding everyone of his place. it’s a nonverbal way of saying “i’m taken, fuck off”

wouldn’t care if he broke his neck from you riding his face. he welcomes it, actually.

heavily into bdsm (emphasis on the s&m), and dom/sub dynamics. while he loves perfect little subs that’ll treat him like some sort of god, he adores when you get bratty and talk back. makes things a lot more fun.

loves embarrassing you.

“my god, baby, can fuckin’ hear how wet you are.” “soaking your panties and i didn’t even fuckin’ touch you. what’s got you so wet, sweetheart? thinking of my cock?” “that felt good, didn’t it? don’t hide from me, pumpkin, let me see your pretty face.”

threesomes. foursomes. you name it. while eren’s possessive over you, he doesn’t mind sharing with his friends (if you consent, of course). he loves knowing how worked up everyone gets over his girlfriend, loves fucking you in front of them to show everyone how wrapped around his finger you are.

safeword! mean and rough is what eren does best. even while he’s slapping you around and calling you dummy, or an eager little slut for his cock, he’ll still check in with you and make sure you’re still feeling good and enjoying yourself. he may like hurting you, but he never wants to actually hurt you. never forgets aftercare, either, you’re still his precious angel that he loves more than anyone.

he’s incredibly vocal – dirty talk, moaning, growling, cursing, degradation.

if you’re too tired to go all the way, he loves mutual masturbation, or jerking himself off while you talk dirty in his ear. always wants to hear what you want him to do to you.

big fan of including toys, usually always fucking you with your magic wand on your clit.

sex without the power dynamics is still very intense and passionate. lots of making out, scratching his back and pulling him closer, deep thrusts, curses, eren telling you he loves you, kissing your forehead while you cum.

𝘢𝘳𝘮𝘪𝘯 𝘢𝘳𝘭𝘦𝘳𝘵

doesn’t really involve himself in strict power dynamics. he’s very versatile and the role he assumes depends on the mood.

prefers biting over spanking and choking you with his fingers over wrapping a hand around your throat (but he will do both).

loves eating pussy and will tease you by gently kissing you through your panties. definitely bites your inner thighs. whispers to you from between your legs and tells you how good you taste. makes you cum over and over, each time moaning into your core and tightening his grip on your thighs to keep you right where he wants you. he only stops when you’re crying and twitching, physically unable to cum one more time.

loves when you’re rough and press his face into your pussy or pull his hair to guide his mouth where you want it. you can hurt him a little. as a treat.

loves when you grab him by the chin and pull him up for a desperate kiss after he eats you out for hours.

goes heavy on the body worship, especially when you wear pretty lil outfits for him.

memorized your body and knows it better than you do. he knows when you’re close, you can’t hide from him.

his possessive side comes out hardcore during sex – armin doesn’t share. he’ll bite marks into your flesh and use his sweet, soft-spoken voice to get into your head. he wants to be the only thought in your mind, the source of all your pleasure.

“mine. you’re all mine. not fuckin’ sharing you.”

if you want him to, he can be fucking mean. he contrasts his harsh words with gentle touches, or tells you sweet things while patting your cheek just a little too rough. it’s almost scary how effortlessly he can change his demeanor to someone entirely different.

loves when you come by to “help” him study (lazily jerk him off while he does his required reading and assignments).

actually just loves when you jerk him off for that matter, especially when he gets to rut into your fist until he’s overstimulated and making a mess of your hand.

easily excitable – just gotta kiss him with tongue all soft and slow and he’ll get all flustered poking against your leg

obsessed with having his mouth on your tits – sucking them, licking them, letting his hand palm and grope at the one not receiving attention.

eye contact is a massive turn on and makes everything feel so much more intimate. he’ll gently grab your chin and redirect your sight, or give your inner thigh a little nip to make you open your eyes again. “focus on me, sweet girl.”

armin’s weaknesses are praise and heavy personal attention. sometimes he’s stressed out and just needs you to take care of him. he’ll sit between your legs, back pressed to your front, and let you stroke him until he’s overstimulated or so pent-up from denial. it makes him dizzy when you whisper praise in his ear, telling him how pretty he looks and how good he’s being for you.

“you wanna cum for me, pretty boy? that feel good? you like when i touch you like this, don’t you? such a good boy for me, armin.”

𝘭𝘦𝘷𝘪 𝘢𝘤𝘬𝘦𝘳𝘮𝘢𝘯

no defined power dynamic/roles – you do whatever the mood calls for. sometimes he’s pounding you into next week, sometimes you’re denying him orgasms for two hours straight until his voice cracks when he begs.

that being said, levi is a natural brat-tamer and can be a hard dom when he’s agitated and needs to blow off steam. his job is literally to keep brats in check – he doesn’t tolerate insubordination or backtalk (sometimes you test that out though). 

restraining your arms behind your back with his belt, spanking you until you can’t sit, reprimanding slaps, filthy degradation, punishing thrusts. he can be mean. 

“soaking through your panties and i didn’t even touch you. pathetic.” “i wasn’t fucking asking. knees, now.” 

he’s a masochist and loves when you scratch up his back, wrap a hand around his throat, bite him, pull his hair, etc.

borderline sadistic in the way that he will make you cum twenty times before he even considers letting up. he’s relentless. 

loves watching you get yourself off, or make out with you while you get each other off 

gets weak when you pull him in by the shirt collar

holds your hands :)

quickies are usually the only option due to your chaotic schedules. you get at least five minutes alone together, you don’t take it for granted. 

slow morning sex is his favorite – the sun is barely peeking over the horizon and you don’t have to worry about the outside world yet. it’s just the two of you and you can really take your time. 

starts off kind of shy about being vocal and you need to ease him into it

after he finishes, he’ll take a moment to caress and admire your pretty face and kiss your forehead, then make a teasing comment about how you’re sweaty. 

gets a little carried away and accidentally rips all the buttons off your shirt

giving you head is a form of stress relief for him, he really just loves pleasuring you 

takes incredible care of you afterwards – acts as a crutch when your legs are too shaky, gets you water, wipes away messes with a damp cloth, even runs you a bath if you have that much time.

“tch. don’t say i never do anything for you, brat.”

likes when you give him hickies in spots that his uniform will cover. it’s a secret that only the two of you are in on.

levi gets a little publicly affectionate when you return to your duties after having sex – still incredibly reserved, but he’ll ruffle your hair and look at you with the fondest eyes. maybe give your hand a squeeze if nobody’s looking.

𝘫𝘦𝘢𝘯 𝘬𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘪𝘯

naturally dominant. typically a softer dom unless you provoke him, then he has no issue roughing you up and fucking you into a drooling mess.

so big and strong and loves any position that demonstrates that – fucking you against the wall with your legs wrapped tight around his hips, stand-and-carry, having you on top and bouncing you like you weigh nothing. 

loves when you dig your nails into his back

slightly prefers ass over tits but is overall a leg/thigh kind of guy. includes feet. i’m so sorry.

stockings/thigh high socks/fishnets/garters absolutely knock him out 

great stamina while you’re fucking but almost instantly falls asleep when you’re done. or just wants to cuddle. 

mildly into somnophilia (receiving – loves being woken up with blowjobs)

praises you heavily while you’re riding him

“that’s it, just like that. good girl. good fucking girl.” 

can get a little too romantic when he’s really close and not thinking clearly

“gonna make me cum, angel, love this pussy so fucking much. love you so fucking much.” 

prefers cumming inside you but he’s really just happy to be included 

he gets a little goofy during quickies and does things like bite your asscheek before eating you out. 

secretly loves when you tie his wrists to the headboard and use him however you want. overstimulation is one of his favorite things, especially when it’s your hand forcing orgasm after orgasm from him. 

generally into rope-play but also really likes using his hands and sheer strength alone

bite his bottom lip or gently touch his upper thigh and he’s instantly hard

he’s a hopeless romantic! masturbating alone isn’t the same! he likes dirty-talking on the phone with you when you’re not together, or he just waits until you are. 

will break the headboard and dent the wall if he gets carried away

loves shower sex after stressful days

gets hard from making out – especially if you’re half-dressed on his lap and grinding against his bulge. sometimes he can feel you all warm and throbbing through your panties and he almost blacks out. 

worships your pussy but he will actually start writing his vows the moment you take him down your throat. 

request your fav here. more of my writing. 

[letarasstuff]

Normal People don't know their IQ

(A/N): Inspired by me, who recently discovered normal people don’t know their IQ, while I was tested two or three times already...

Summary: A certain someone is the only way to get the UnSub. But there’s also something different that makes her special.

Warnings: Angst (fluffy end, I swear), language, mentions of rape and torture, mention of dead people, the usual CM stuff I guess Wordcount: 2.0k

✨Masterlist✨ _________________________________________

“Garcia, I need you to look into high school teachers, who are suspended or fired for inappropriate behavior towards students and live in the area of the kidnappings”, Hotch orders in a stern voice. But you can’t blame him, after all there are currently six dead teenage girls and one missing. One can only hope and work as fast as possible to get her back to her parents alive.

The team is working a case in Sacramento, California. Teenage girls get abducted on their way home from school, are held for exactly a week and are killed by a simple cut to their throat. The torture they have to endure beforehand isn’t as simple. The last two also show signs of rape.

The dumbing sites are different parks all over the city. The placing happens overnight only to have the girls found the next morning by a clueless jogger or stroller.

“Let’s go over the profile again, I feel like we are missing something”, Rossi commands. His gut feeling tells him only that much, he just has to find out what it is.

“It’s a white male in his mid thirties to late forties. He blends in, so he has to be or has been a teacher. Someone who looks like they belong into a school isn’t suspicious”, Spencer counts the facts.

“The victims all look similar, probably resembling an ex-wife or girlfriend”, Morgan adds. Before he can get into the depth of the torture a phone rings.

“My lovely crime fighters, I got an address. Charles Collins. philosophy and history. Got suspended for suggestive talk towards his female students. He is also said to stare at them and certain body parts for way too long and way too obvious. Gross. Annnd that- wait”

“What is it, Garcia?” Hotch asks after a moment of silence, which is unusual for the ever bubbly tech analyst.

“You got your profile wrong. Collins doesn’t take these girls because of an ex flame.”

The team looks at each other in confusion. Garcia always stresses how she isn’t a profiler and can’t judge over people, because she only wants to see the good in them. How is she able to tell that the profile is off?

“Shoot baby girl, we don’t have much time left”, Derek urges her. He wants nothing more than to have this SOB finally behind bars. The whole team wants that.

“He has a daughter. Technically it’s not his daughter, it’s someone else’s, but he is her foster father. Go and please save both girls!”

Penelope doesn’t have to say it twice. After a brief thank you and goodbye the team is on their way to the given address. As soons as they get there, everyone notices the absence of a car in the driveway. Hotch sends Spencer, Emily and Derek through the back door, the rest goes in from the front.

“FBI! OPEN UP!”

It’s needless to say that nobody opens up. There is no other way than kicking the doors down.

After entering the house and clearing the first floor, Rossi points towards the stairs that leads to the first story. There are only two rooms. A bathroom right hand and a closed door left hand.

Morgan counts quietly down before also kicking this door down and screaming “FBI!” But he seemingly talks with air, because there is no one to be found. Once again the team swarms out to look for evidence or clues.

As Spencer looks through the room they cleared last, he sees various things that make him smile. Several bookshelves are flooded with all kinds of genres, authors and covers. At first he can’t make out in which way they are sorted. But a closer look makes him realize that they are sorted by the author’s birth year. The doctor is kind of impressed, because that means the person knows when they are born in order to find a certain book. He likes the idea, it is a nice little challenge.

While he investigates further a sound makes him stop. He sends a text to Emily and waits for her. When she enters the room Spencer gestures to her to keep it quiet. Then he points to the bed.

They lower themselves down to the floor at the same time on each side of it. A girl, no older than 14 years, lays there shivering in angst. With big doe eyes she looks at Spencer and whispers:

“Please don’t hurt me.”

A while later the team is back at the station with the girl sitting in one of the interrogation rooms. The temperature is already set down, though Hotch feels really bad for it. Still there is another girl out there waiting to be safed.

“Baby girl, what can you give us on her?” Morgan sets his phone in the middle of the table and switches the speaker on.

“Our little girl’s name is (Y/N) (Y/L/N), fourteen years old. Parents were deemed to be unable to look after her since they are both heavy drug addicts and didn’t even register her crying for two hours straight. Since the age of six months she bounces through the system with nobody wanting to keep her longer than two years. They claim she is too smart for them and want somebody to look after her, who can challenge her intellectually.

“Collins took her in one and a half years ago. He got her signed up in several activities after school, like chess and academic decathlon. As of right now she is a junior with an opportunity to graduate next year. Her teachers describe her as incredibly bright with a complicated way of thinking.”

“Complicated way of thinking? Her intelligence was neglected for years, so she gave herself her own challenges. I found her books sorted by the birth year of the authors. She found ways of making things more difficult for herself, that’s why she fabricated strange ways of thinking. This is often found in children with high intelligence, who are not boosted enough by their environment”, Spencer explains, getting more and more furious.

His colleagues feel that this is a sensitive subject for their resident genius. JJ comfortably puts a hand on his shoulder, making the tense go away.

“Emily and Dave, I want both of you to interrogate her. We need to know where he hides the girls. JJ, try to hold the press off for a bit longer. Morgan, Reid, I want you to watch and look for tells or anything else”, Aaron orders.

Everyone works on their given task immediately.

You don’t need to be a profiler to see that (Y/N) is scared out of her mind. She has her feet on her chair and her head lies on her knees. When the two agents enter, she tries to at least fake some kind of composer. But she fails miserably at it.

“Hello (Y/N), may I call you that?” Emily begins in a soft voice. The teenager nods shyly. “Good, (Y/N). My name is Emily Prentiss and this is David Rossi. We are agents from the Behavior Analysis Unit from the FBI. Do you know why you are here?” The teenager shakes her head.

“Ok, let’s cut the chase”, David's voice booms through the small room. “You know exactly why you are here. From what we saw in your room you are an incredibly smart girl. How high is your IQ? 130? 135?”

“147 a-actually”, she nervously corrects the agent, never meeting his eye. The team notices this fairly quickly.

“Even better, normal people don’t know their IQ. So you know what your forster father does. You saw the news, you read the papers, you heard your classmates talk. In addition to that, the girls look alarmingly similar to you. And all of the sudden Charles is more often out than usual. So do us a favor and come clear.” Then he pulls out a picture from a manila folder on the table. Emily tries to intervene.

“Rossi, don’t. She is not the UnSub. (Y/N) is just unfortunate to be at the wrong place.” “She might as well be another UnSub if she doesn’t do anything to help us. Do you know how long you are going to jail for helping hi-”

“I don’t know anything. I- of course I saw what is h-happening. A-and I connected the dots a long time a-ago. You know, Charles lost his job and that’s a stressor. T-then Child Service was investigating him, because of the suspension’s reasons. I-I couldn’t do anything. I had no evidence, the police wouldn’t believe me. I asked him once wh-what he thinks about, you know, what’s happening. He slapped me and told me to not talk about it again. I’m so sorry, I wanna help. The only thing that comes into my mind is an old cabin he once mentioned when I first arrived at his. B-but I don’t know if it helps you. P-please, I don’t want to go to jail or juvenile, I-” Then (Y/N) breaks down into tears.

Emily is in an instant by her side trying to calm her down, while Hotch gives the information to Garcia. As soon as she finds the location, JJ takes a seat next to (Y/N) and the rest of the team flies out.

“You don’t have to be scared of him anymore, Sweetheart. My colleagues will find him and he will be tried and convicted. He will never be a threat to you again”, the blonde tries to comfort her.

“Whenever I leave an abusive home, there will be another one that’s exactly the same. The only difference with Charles was that he seemed to understand me. He helped me. There’s nobody who is willing to do what he did for me”, she admits sadly.

It breaks JJ’s heart, because her words are true. Even though he is a killer, Collins did help her. But she is also determined to show the young girl that he isn’t the only one who can do that. That there are more people out there, who are kind and as helpful if not more.

Not long after this the team brings the man into the station, Morgan guiding him with a deadbolt-like grip.

Rossi spots (Y/N) in a break room with a hot drink in her hands. While making his way over there, Spencer follows him. He wants to talk with her as well.

“(Y/N) I’m sincerely sorry if I hurt you earlier. I didn’t intend to scare you, we just had to act quickly and you were the only source of information available. I also wanted to tell you, that your achievements are astonishing and I guarantee you a bright future, maybe even at the FBI”, he winks at the end of his last sentence.

“I understand, Agent Rossi. But doesn’t everybody know their IQ? I assumed everybody gets at least tested once in their life in some way”, she asks with surprise in her voice.

At that the older man is speechless. Of all things she could accuse him of legitimately, (Y/N) goes with the most innocent question.

“Actually, not everybody gets tested. A reliable test has to be done by a psychologist and most people don’t go to one. Furthermore there has to be a valid reason to do one, that’s why a great part of the population doesn’t know their IQ”, intervenes Spencer. He has to infodump, since the last time was over half an hour ago.

“But you also have to differentiate between the several kinds of intelligence, because intelligence is way more than being good at math. There…”

Rossi stopped listening to the excited interaction between the two geniuses. Instead he watches their body languages and facial expressions. He hasn’t seen both of them more at calm than they are now.

After all there might be a way for (Y/N) to get a little Happy End.

[classifiedinterests]

making the supernatural fandom more accessible

hey fellow spn fans!! what if we all teamed up to make the spn tumblr experience more accessible?

it sucks that some of the best posts this fandom churns out are completely unreadable to bloggers who use screen readers (or heck, even to people whose wifi sucks so that images never load).

take the amazing scripts that we’re currently so pumped about -- imagine you use a screen reader (if you don’t), and you hear fellow fans going completely feral over content you can’t access. you want to be in on the hype! but you have zero clue why everyone’s screaming about windmills or whatever, because the scripts getting shared are un-captioned screenshots.

...and then there are posts that are just. walls of text! which is really difficult for certain neurodivergent folks to read, such as those with adhd. being aware of that when making original posts (or comments) and adding more paragraph breaks -- and possibly even spicing up the text by bolding important parts, etc. -- is an easy fix for that!

so. here’s my proposal: each one of us commits to whatever level of effort is possible for us (given each person’s unique time, energy, abilities, etc.) in the joint effort to improve accessibility.

Level 1: the ID hunter.

when you go to reblog any spn post that includes images (whether that’s gifs, screenshots, fanart, etc.), check in the notes to see if someone else has added an image description already!

if they have, reblog from them so that the image description spreads further.

"BUT what if someone added the image description before certain commentary was added to the post, and i wanna reblog the post with those extra comments?”

Well, i can’t speak for everyone who creates image descriptions, but i for one don’t care if someone copies & pastes my ID so that they can add it to their own reblog. i don’t care that my blog’s no longer connected to the image description i wrote -- so long as the ID is spread, i’m happy!

Level 2: the copy-paste monster.

when you love another fan’s tags enough to add them to the post -- do so by copy & pasting them, not by screenshotting them!

for your own posts or comments: if you’re sharing, say, a quote from an article or a fanfic or a tweet, do so by copy & pasting the quote instead of taking a screenshot.

if someone else has already shared a screenshot from an article, fanfic, or tweet, and you have a link to the original, do the extra legwork to go to the source, copy and paste, and make an ID.

Level 3: the fandom angel.

If you have the ability, time, and energy to type out image descriptions for spn posts that don’t yet have one, please do it!

If even just a few of us commit to creating even just one ID per day each, that will add up!

And, of course, if you’re making your own post, give it an ID right there in the original posting, if you’re able! I understand that not everyone has the spoons (/time/energy/ability) to do this, and that’s okay. But those who can, please do!

Tumblr now allows you to put alt text on images, so you can do it that way or the old-fashioned way of just including your image description in the text of the post.

Not sure how to write an image description? This post offers some truly comprehensive advice on how to write IDs for various types of content, from photos to fanart to charts to screenshots of text.

By the way, I’ve seen folks ask that you don’t put the ID under a readmore. Keep it easy to access!

Nervous that you’re not gonna write an ID right? First off, practice makes perfect -- you’ll improve with time. I’m pretty sure that an imperfect or incomplete ID is better than no ID at all -- hopefully someone else will come along to reblog with any necessary corrections to whatever ID you write!

Level 4: the man of letters (gn).

You’re going above and beyond what this post advises -- you’re also out there coming up with and implementing other ways to improve accessibility!

Maybe you’re a blogger who uses a screen reader yourself, with more you want to add to this post from your own experience.

Maybe you’ll choose to seek out bloggers who use screen readers themselves -- or who have other accessibility needs -- so you can learn straight from them what their needs are.

Maybe it’s something else! I don’t know, but I do know this post is incomplete -- so please, share your ideas for other ways we can all work together to improve our fandom.

None of us has to do everything, but most of us can do something. If enough of us take even just small steps, we can create a more accessible fandom. Who’s with me?

If you’re in, please reblog this post so word can spread!

(I’m closing this by tagging some bloggers whom i’m hoping might be interested in helping me spread this around, because i am Not A Big Name in this fandom and can’t do it by myself! Let me know if you want me to un-tag you.)

@sunforgrace​ @castiellesbian​ @plantdadcas​ @jenderstudies​ @youchangedmedean​ @meadowdean​ @winchestersingerautorepair​ @phoebenatural​ @steveyockey​ @bedlund @seraphcastiel​ @marcusantonius @marynatural​ @redwing​ @t4tdeanwinchester​ @spn-brainrot​ @lobotomycas​ @samdyke​ @deanwinchesterforbatman2k21 @themanwhowouldbefruit @4x01​ @thatisahotsoup

[gb-patch]

Ask Answers: August 8th

Well, doing big posts all together worked for a while but lately I’ve been putting it off because it takes a long time to get them done. I think I’m gonna try switching back to answering asks whenever I can fit it in and posting them one at a time instead of waiting until I’ve filled out one of these major collections.

But for now, here’s more ask answers! Thank you for the questions and for all the kind words along with them ^^.

Hello!! I'm here to ask if its possible to get  the game and its dlcs on steam and play it on android?

I’m afraid not. Steam doesn’t have Android builds on their own site and Steam is not cool with keys for other sites being given out for Steam purchases, so you don’t get the Itch version from buying on Steam.

Hello! Sorry to bother you but, I had a question, if we buy the Game on itchio do we get steam keys or would we need to purchase it twice? 

You would have to buy it twice if you want it in both places, I’m sorry. To repeat myself a little, Steam doesn’t like the key trading thing. Itch may support giving keys for another site, but the reverse isn’t doable with Steam and Steam doesn’t even really want you to get a Steam key for buying somewhere else either. So we just don’t mess around with that.

hey, sorry if this is frequently asked, but is step 4 free dlc or paid for? some of your sources are contradicting each other. 

It’s free! There’s a paid wedding DLC, but Step 4 itself is entirely unpaid.

Hello! I just had a quick question, for the Baxter and Derek DLC's will we be able to confess our feelings to them or let them confess to MC? or will it only be one way? (they confess to MC)

Both type of options will be available!

Hey there! I wanted to ask whether or not the Derek DLC is still on track to be released in August since on the steam discussion board it says it will be released mid 2021. I totally understand if it isn't, I'm just really looking forward to it! If you answer then ty! And keep up the amazing work :D 

It’s not, aha. Unfortunately, 2021 wasn’t easier than 2020 as we hoped so things are still slower than planned. It’ll come out late 2021 or early 2022.

Hi! Firstly I just want to say that I LOVE Our Life. I have played a bit of similar games but this one instantly wins for the best one! Everything about it is amazing! I just wanted to ask if Derek would ever lose feelings for MC, like if they make the deal and then MC gets with Cove would he move on? and even if you don't, after "losing contact" would his feeling fade or would he still like MC? 

If you don’t really keep in touch with him and clearly move on with your life, Derek will too and he’ll be over it. But if you are still close as best as you can be, he’ll still think the MC is special. Though, he’ll always support your relationship with someone else if that’s what’ll make you happy.

Hello! Sorry if you've answered this before but: 'How's Lee related to us? Though which momma? And does she share our player-chosen last names? Also, do you know if Noelani took Pam's last name or did it happen the other way round? 

She’s related to Pamela and Pamela’s last name is the one they use, so the MC has the same last name as Lee.

Will we be able to choose which (they or he) we tend to call Qiu by more often, or will it randomly change depending on the moment? 

Qiu knows which pronoun they’re comfortable with at a time and you’ll call them what they’re happy with. And it doesn’t change between lines, it takes multiple scenes or even full Steps for it to switch. So for extended periods Qiu will be totally a guy or fully agender.

Will Step 4 of OL2 have moments?

It’ll be an epilogue like it is in OL1, so it won’t have a bunch of different Moments.

Hello! Just a quick question, is Sunset bird from OL1 based on a real location? If so what's it called? I wanna visit it +_+

ps i love your games so much <3

It isn’t based on one specific town you can go to, but there are a lot of little coastal towns in Cali that have a similar vibe!

Heyaaa ( I hope you're all well ), umm… it might seem kinda stupid to ask but did Patreon members can have a key for the dlc's ( all the steps-released dlc ) even if they became a member this month or later ? (me? saying this cuz it's my case? maybe ;-;), and once again thanks for absolutely all the amazing works on all the games ! u-u 

You wouldn’t get the DLCs for backing there. The Patreon is for extra bonus content/early access, rather than being a storefront to purchase the normal DLCs. Rarely we give them out as a side gift, but it hardly happens and if what you want is the DLCs it’s best to ignore the Patreon and  buy keys for those directly from Itch or Steam. I’m sorry for the confusion.

Hey y'all, love what youre doing w/Terry. Trans rep outside of player customization is so rare and important to see more of so thank you so much. I do have a question and its that does he have a canon sexuality? I know Miranda was said to be straight ace but I dont believe anything was stated for Terry probably because he wasnt revealed to be a guy which changes things. Im also curious if well get answers on how long hes liked Miranda since he may have liked her in step 3 before she liked him 

Terry likes women and Randy likes men! And he did like Miranda back in Step 3.

Will the Wedding Dlc release at the same time as Step 4? 

They’ll come out separately with Step 4 releasing first.

I really love Our Life so much! I've spent over 20hours playing it even though I only got it a week ago! I was wondering if I could make a fangame for Our Life with a different love interest but same plot. Next-door neighbors romance, multiple steps, etc? I'll probably make it on Google Slides though- 

Sure! I hope you have fun with it and I’m glad you love the game.

How does Cove feel about poly relationships? 

He’s got nothing against them for the people they work for, but he’s 100% monogamous and would only be comfortable with a partner who was willing to be monogamous with him.

Idk if this has been answered before but will Step 4 include the option to advance your feelings towards Cove? 

Yep, you’ll be able to determine your feelings and what your relationship is.

In step 4 will there be a chosen to say we live with Cove even as just friends? 

Yeah, you can choose to live with Cove and that can be done when you’re friends.

I just played the game with the MC and Cove being best friends and omg it’s still so damn cute like the wholesomeness of it all is too much for my heart I swear ^.^  Now with that all said I was wondering can we still marry Cove? if we only love him as a friend like let’s say we’ve made deal with him similar to the one we can make with Derek because let’s real no one could compete with what the MC and Cove have even if they aren’t in love. 

It’s great to hear you enjoyed the friendship story! You can live with Cove, but you can’t marry him platonically. Cove has familial affection for the MC if they’re best-est friends. He wouldn’t think to marry someone he loves like family and even grew up with as though they truly were siblings.

Are you still going to be making a DLC for XOBD? :] 

Yes! We’re slowing adding voiced lines and fixing errors.

It makes me laugh that Shiloh's last name is Fields because that's what I put as my last name! So in Our Life when he talked about "Ms. Fields" picking him up I was extremely confused, lol. That dude mimics personalities so much that he stole my surname!

Oh, wow, that’s a very funny coincidence, haha.

hi !! i cant seem to be able to get the scene where mc is able to propose to cove despite being at the 'love' stage and telling him i'd want to get married, are there any other details that im missing out on? the options just dont appear at the end... 

Maybe you missed telling Cove you were in love with him even if you mentioned wanting to get married or you might’ve accidentally said earlier in the game that you don’t want to progress your relationship further with Cove. We haven’t removed them, so you can get the scene again. It’s just kind of easy to miss since there’s multiple requirements. You can read a little guide in the FAQ.

wait what di you need to do to be able to propose to cove? I've been trying but haven't had much luck 

You can check out the FAQ linked above!

does cove only develop a crush on the mc if the mc is also at crush/in love with him? 

Technically, yes. We treat the non-romantic relationship options as truly non-romantic since we don’t want to bait and switch people. But there’s nothing wrong with headcanoning that Cove does have feelings developing for the MC even before the MC has.

Is there a way to make/allow Lee and Baxter to date?

No, they just don’t have enough time together.

We also got a group of asks related to Tamarack in OL2, but I’m afraid the way they talked about people with larger bodies made me not want to post their words, even if the person didn’t say they’re trying to be hurtful. I will separate out the core question and answer it though, so people can know that info.

Does Tamarack lose weight in later Steps?

No, she doesn’t. As for the other questions included, to be honest, I don’t have to explain/defend having romance options of different sizes. I’m sorry if you’re dealing with unhappiness that’s connected to body image, if that’s where the negative emotions are coming from, but even so I can’t meet you on that level and pretend it’s a problem that needs an answer. A girl who simply isn’t thin being a main love interest is just not an unreasonable concept. Also, Tamarack isn’t a lesbian. Yes, she can date a female MC, but that doesn’t undo her actual sexuality, so I’m not sure where that one part at the end was coming from.

I wonder... can we "fight" with Qiu over leader status? 👀

Not really, haha. No matter how cool your MC is, they’re never gonna replace Qiu for the other kids around. So you can either partner up with him, follow him too, or not be a part of all that group politics stuff.

So when I play the game, sometimes I mentally call Cove “Covie/Covey” and that made me wonder, how does Cove feel about being nicknamed? Not like Romeo/Space Cadet/etc. but like pet names relating to his actual name

It’d depend on his age, personality, and your relationship with him! When he’s younger he’d probably be embarrassed, when he was grown he’d probably be more casual or happy about it.

will you be able to date baxter in step 3 while at crush with cove (but not dating him ofc) sorry if this has been asked already. i really love baxters step 4 design btw!! 

Yeah, you can be crushing on Cove and date Baxter if you weren’t already dating Cove. You just can’t be truly in love with Cove and then switch to Baxter.

I just got my friend into our life, and they adore shiloh and derek sooo will there be more of them in the second game? 

I’m afraid not. But you can see plenty more of Shiloh in XOXO Droplets/XOXO Blood Droplets, haha.

I see you haven't gotten any xoxo droplets asks recently but I'm still obsessed with these boys!! I was just wondering if Nate would curse under any circumstance? 

Yeah, Nate does use certain swear words (damn, hell, bastard) on very rare occasions.

Hi there! I have a question about the wedding dlc. Will we be able to plan a honeymoon during the planning stages of it or would it be something that Cove and the mc would rather plan later on? Thank you! Absolutly love the game by the way, definitely one of my favorite games! 

The focus will be on the wedding day itself. The topic of the honeymoon might come up a bit, but there won’t be any choosing of the exact location and such.

Hi! I have two questions and it's completely understandable if you only answer one/neither and I'm sorry if you've already answered either before! First, is there a set year in which OL:B&A takes place (ex: Step 1 being set in 2010 & Step 2 being set in 2016, etc.) or is it simply up to interpretation? Second, have you guys thought about doing a coming-of-age game where the MC has a tough home life or upbringing? (like one of their parents is an addict, a parent being transphobic whilst the player has the option to be trans, or having friends that are influencing them to do drugs, etc.) That's all! Thanks for making beautiful games. <3 

There is a set timeline!

Step 1: 2006 Step 2: 2011 Step 3: 2016 Step 4: 2021 

And we don’t currently plan on making a game like that. The Our Life series exists to be a safer environment for people to play around in and if we did do a brand new series that was harsher edged it’d be something more fantastical and/or plot-driven instead of a different type of modern day slice-of-life growing up story. I’m sorry.

i don’t know if you’ve already answered this, but do you have a guess on when phase 4 will come out? as well as ol2? i’m so excited for both of them, the inclusivity in this game is amazing, you guys should be really proud of it! 

Step 4 will be coming out very soon! OL2 is gonna take until 2023 to be anywhere near completion. But we might episodically release the Steps one at a time as they get done instead of waiting for three to be finished before launch like we did with the first game.

Hello, I was curious if there was an official or unofficial discord server for the game? 

We do have a discord! You can join by clicking this link HERE.

how long do you plan to keep ol's patreon running? 

Hopefully for at least a few more years.

Are you considering ever making merch? 

Yeah, but I don’t know when it’ll happen or what exactly we’ll make, aha. It’s something we want do, just nothing is set.

hi! i just found out about your game a couple of days ago on tiktok (so sorry if you’ve already answered this question) and i was wondering if y’all are ever planning to release it on iOS? 

I have no idea. It’s hard for a small group to get Apple approval and I honestly can’t say if it’ll ever happen or not. Maybe someday, though!

Hi, I love the art style of Our life and I would like to know if the artist has a Twitter? Also, could it be possible to fund more CGs for the game from him/her? So many times, I wish there was one like when the cutscene of the sunshower. 

That’s nice of you to offer. He doesn’t have a Twitter, at least not one that’s public enough to be shared with me. And I’m afraid not. The issue is that the CGs take huge amounts of time rather than there not being a budget for it. He’s gotta make CGs for Step 4, the DLCs, and new character sprites, too. There isn’t space in the schedule for even more. Sorry for that.

Hi, how are you?!

Are you planning on accepting new writers or is it always the same people who write your stories??

Thanks!!

Our Life: Beginnings & Always won’t be getting new writers, but we will be hiring a new team of writers for Our Life: Now & Forever eventually!

perhaps this counts as nsfw and I'm sure it has been answered before but what does Cove prefer, chests/boobs or butts? or perhaps both :3c thank you for this wonderful game (and the patreon bonus moment, it was worth all the waiting and more ♥) 

He’s a “chests of all shapes and sizes” kind of guy, haha.

i was wondering- did any of the writers actually grow up by the beach? as someone who's lived in a beach town all their life it really did feel nostalgic to play through our life 1 

I was born and raised in Cali! Though, not right by the beach. We still had to make trips out, but the setting is based on my own childhood memories of small beach towns we went through.

In Derek’s upcoming DLC, will we be able to reference the pact we made as teens? (love olba and xod/xobd so much btw you’re literally amazing) 

Yep, you will be able to talk about that!

Oh, sorry about the Cole being secretly L ask, then!

If you wanted context: Death Note is about this one guy who finds a notebook that kills anyone who you write the name of in there. The guy eventually develops a God Complex and starts mass killing criminals and stuff. L is the one trying to find out who is killing all these people.

Me and my sister first joked about it because I couldn't remember how to translate a word about the way Cove was sitting, so I just did the pose, and it looked a lot like how L himself sits! Then we just snowballed from there, with more and more nonsense connections.

That’s okay! Thanks for explaining. I’m sorry I didn’t know what you meant.