#somebody salvage this concept

[contentloadingandstuff]

Jealousy Bits - Zhongli, Diluc & Alhaitham x Fem!Reader

A/N: It's my second time writing for Fem!Reader, so C&C is more than welcome! CW: Alhaitham might be a little OOC.

Zhongli

Jealousy is a foreign concept for Zhongli. For eons his mind was preoccupied with more important matters than petty insecurity. Centuries passed, and never once have you given him a reason to worry. But as time passed and Zhongli, along with you, stepped down from his position, he started connecting more with his human side. He experienced many things he never got the chance to as a god - including a certain kind of longing.

"I'm leaving, dear!" You look over the contents of your purse, making sure everything necessary is contained within. Your hand moves to rest on the doorknob, but you pick up the sound of steady footsteps. 

Turning back towards the living room, you see Zhongli standing in the corridor, his eyes resting on you. "If I may ask, where are you going today?" 

"I managed to convince Ganyu to have a proper meal at Wanmin Restaurant. Poor thing needs to quit starving herself, don't you think?"

Smiling slightly, he nods. "Yes, that would be good for her health. Ever since the… choking incident, Ganyu has never been the same."

You both chuckle. Zhongli crosses his arms over his chest. 

"I shouldn't keep her waiting. You know how anxious she tends to be." Once again, you turn towards the door. 

Something sparks in his mind. The mental image of you, laughing and smiling with somebody else while he is alone evokes a specific feeling, an itch that urges him to keep you in place, here, with him. Zhongli wants to stop you, and he stretches out his arm, but thinks better of it. You turn the key in the door, and the sensation comes back. He feels the need to act. 

Zhongli clears his throat. "I… I am having tea when you return. If you'd care to join me."

When your gaze meets his amber eyes, he seems unsure, and looks down at the floor in unusual embarrassment. His arm drops back down to his side. You approach him with a smirk, resting your hand on his chest. 

"Aw, is someone jealous?" A slight blush forms on his face at your gentle touch. 

"Perhaps." He answers after a moment. 

You slide your hand into his, and squeeze it gently. It's warm and bigger than yours, his gloves adding a pleasant texture. Zhongli looks back at you when you cup his cheek with your other hand. 

"It's okay. We'll take a nice bath when I return, have tea, and then… we'll see where the evening leads us." You plant a featherlite kiss on his lips, and send him a smile before turning to leave. 

Before you can open the door, he speaks again. 

"I love you, Y/N."

"I love you as well, Morax."

Diluc

Diluc cares only for those strangers he absolutely must, but he keeps his loved ones close. Although he keeps a steady facade suggesting otherwise, he gets possessive at times - just as anybody else. Cool as he is, Diluc won’t stop himself from acting upon his feelings with his characteristic decisiveness.

His eyes skim over the paper in his hand. Thirty barrels, twenty-seven million Mora - everything seems in order. He grabs the pen and scribbles his signature. The man thanks him and leaves shortly. Diluc sighs and rubs his temple.

It was supposed to be your night out. Just some casual drinks, grape juice for him and some light alcohol for you to finish off the work week. Despite explicitly stating that he is off-work, the recent delivery of Harra Fruit extract decided to arrive at that exact moment. With who the other party was, letting one of the staff handle him would be bad for his image. Begrudgingly, Diluc welcomed the merchant and finished the deal. Although he lost an hour or so, the evening was still salvageable. 

The noble turns back from the loading bay towards the Angel’s Share back door, and pushes it open. His eyes see the familiar scene of many men and women enjoying their evening to the tune of a mediocre ballad, sounding out from the small stage. The notes are fine, but the occasional mishap doesn’t go unheard by his sensitive ears. Despite that, the tavern goers seem to pay no attention, possibly too drunk to notice. Still, if his memory serves him right, the last performer had far more lyrical talent. 

He looks around the tables Venti frequents, but doesn’t find him there. Where did this rascal go-

“Y/N, do you perhaps wield the power of Anemo? Because your beauty blew me away!”

His eyes turn sharply towards the counter. The cyan-clad bard, his back leaning against the wood, smiles in satisfaction. In front of Diluc sees you, blushing slightly and giggling. 

“That was… wow. Horrible.” You smirk. “But I’m sure you can do better.”

Diluc watches as Venti looks away, smiling, his mind rushing with ideas. He suddenly looks back at you, a wide smile on his lips. Barbatos clears his throat theatrically. 

“It’s handy I have my library card on me, because I am totally checking you out!”

Both of you laugh. Diluc furrows his brows, and his heart starts beating faster. How can such crude humor make you laugh? You never laugh as hard at his jokes…

A small blush creeps up his face as he looks on, suddenly hyper-aware of his thoughts. He brushes the shame off. He is right - this evening was supposed to be “Diluc and Y/N talking and drinking” and not “Venti and Y/N talking and drinking while Diluc handles business”. There is no way the drunkard Archon steals your attention tonight.

“Two rounds, please! One for me, and one for the prettiest Windblume in this locale!” Venti says, raising two fingers.

Charles nods and reaches for the cups, but Diluc glares at him and shakes his head slightly. The bartender makes his understanding known and turns to a different client. The aristocrat looks around the tab record and quickly finds a small piece of paper, labeled with the bard’s name. Nine rounds… That would equal seven thousand three hundred Mora. Drawing another note, he writes down the numbers and places the paper inside a mug. He leaves the serving area and circles to approach you and Venti from the side. 

The bard, too deep in his flirty conversation, fails to notice his approach. With a fairly loud sound, Diluc puts down the mug right next to Venti. His aqua eyes dart straight towards the tycoon. 

“Oh! Hello master Diluc! How is the evening going?” The innocent tone that reaches Diluc’s ears annoys him even further. 

“You ordered two drinks, I believe.” He walks in front of Venti, arms now crossed over his chest. “You will get them upon paying for the nine so far. If you don’t, I will ask you to leave. You’ve drunk enough.”

The mug is picked up, and Venti draws the paper. Upon looking at the sum, he smirks and puts the utensil down. “Why, of course! Let me get my coin pouch really quick.”

After patting his sides and drawing the leather container with a small Aha!, Venti peeks inside, and his confident smile turns into an awkward one. He chuckles. 

“It seems that I forgot most of my Mora tonight, how unfortunate, truly! Can I just… add it to my account?” Venti looks at Diluc with big, puppy eyes. The man scuffs, unmoved.

“The one counting three hundred thousand Mora? Sure. If you pay it up now, that is. Do you have the money?”

The bard smiles nervously. “Ehe~” He turns to you. ‘My oh my! Look how late it is! Sleep is important, miss Y/N, and so I will rest now. Goodnight~”

Venti evacuates with practiced ease, Diluc’s eyes burning a hole in the back of his head. You turn to look at Diluc. 

“Does he really drink this much…?” You ask, feeling a bit awkward after witnessing their interaction.

Your lover shrugs, and sits down on Venti’s place. He turns to you, a confident smile gracing his lips. 

“Well, I’m here. What about your other two wishes?”

You smile and chuckle at his unexpected goofiness, covering your mouth with your hand to stop yourself from laughing out loud. Diluc swears it’s the sweetest sound he’s ever heard from you.

Alhaitham

Alhaitham holds most strangers in a neutral regard. Their squabbles, bold flirts and personal drama doesn't interest him, and as such rarely anything can get him possessive and needy. Someone flirts with you? You can handle things on your own. Spending less time with him? No matter, you have things to get done as well. Talking to another man? If he is nothing more than a coworker or a friend, it's none of his business. Despite this solid and logical reasoning, Alhaitham assumed he would be jealous at some point - just in case. Yet he expected a human to be the cause, and not… an animal.

A cat, to be precise. 

It all started when, coming home from shopping, the two of you were approached by a stray. Alhaitham recalls the unfortunate creature resembled a wet, rotten rag more than an actual feline. It started meowing at you while rubbing its filthy face on your leg. Instead of repulsion, however, you felt pity for the animal. After a good five minutes of pressure and puppy eyes, Alhaitham agreed to take the cat in. On the condition that you would take responsibility and care for it, of course. 

After being taken to Amurta veterinarians, who cleaned, bandaged and prescribed the right medication to the poor animal, it started resembling an actual cat. When the researchers confirmed that the cat would be fine, it was given a name, one that stuck in his mind ever since. 

Alibaba. 

Or Ali for short. 

It was just as he expected, and true to what you promised. You fed the cat, cleaned his litter box, gave him medicine, played with and groomed him. Over time, Alibaba returned to his former glory. His fur grew back, now long and lustrous. It was mostly white, with light brown patches near his paws, tail, ears and mouth, perfectly complimenting his deep blue eyes. Alibaba soon got plump and lazy, which you found greatly adorable. He was an obedient cat with a loud purr and a gentleman's meow that stole more and more of your heart each time. 

Alhaitham didn't pay much attention to your new pet. That is, he didn't until you started calling the cat names. It's normal, he knows that. That’s just what humans do with pets. But something about you calling Ali a “handsome boy” and a “gentleman” doesn't sit right with him. He gets those compliments on occasion, but Alibaba gets it daily for just existing… 

He couldn't believe he was getting jealous over an animal. Just when he pushed the thought away, the creature already noticed his feelings. It started running away from Alhaitham, and moving away when he tried to pet it. Ali didn't even eat the food and treats he provided, but dined on yours just fine. The cat didn't restrain itself from looking smugly at Alhaitham while being praised and showered in affection by you, seemingly mocking your boyfriend. 

The whole situation was silly, and he knew it. It was only right for him to resolve his jealousy in an equally amusing way. 

One day, after returning from work, you were greeted by Alibaba, just as per usual. You went to put your things down on the table, the cat following your actions by jumping up on the furniture. It meowed, rubbing its face against your hand. You smile. 

"Who's a handsome boy?" Alibaba meows in response. "That's right! You are!" 

You move to the fridge, and grab a bag of cat food. The animal rubs its body all over your shins as you pour the food. After leaving Ali, absolutely inhaling the contents of his bowl, you go to the bedroom. You open the door and freeze. 

On the bed, resting on his side, is the shirtless Alhaitham. The sight of his chiseled chest fills your eyes, and a small blush of surprise heats up your cheeks. 

For a solid minute or so, you stand there, unsure of how to react to this unusual situation. Alhaitham looks at you with a slight smug. 

"Am I a handsome boy as well?" 

Thanks for reading!

[wheelsgoroundincircles]

1960 Edsel Deluxe Hardtop

This Day in Auto History

6.7.1954

The Ford Motor Company formed a styling team to take on the project of designing an entirely new car that would later be named the Edsel. The decision came as Ford enjoyed its greatest historical success in the 1950s. The 1955 Thunderbird had outsold its Chevy counterpart, the Corvette, and the consumer demand for automobiles, in all price brackets, was steadily increasing. The Ford Motor Company consisted of four brand names: Ford, Mercury, Lincoln, and Continental, listed from lowest to highest in price range. Ford executives believed that there was a gap in the marketplace between the Mercury and the Lincoln, where a new car would compete against GM's Oldsmobile and Buick lines. In the mid-1950s, Americans seemed to have an insatiable hunger for high horse-powered, heavily styled cars, with lots of chrome and many accessories. So Ford planned to fill the public's appetite with a suitable answer. The company spared no expense in the development of its new car, even going so far as to employ famous American poet Marianne Moore to supply possibilities for its name. After an extensive name search and no satisfactory result, somebody suggested that the car be named after Henry Ford II's father, Edsel. Ford balked at the suggestion initially and later relented, on the grounds that his father deserved a tribute; he urged the car's designers to live up to his father's name. Edsel had always had a knack for design, even if his business sense hadn't always lived up to his father's expectations. The Edsel project was launched with great fanfare and vigorous advertising. During the years between the car's conception and its production, the American economy took a downturn. By the time the Edsel was released in 1957, the high end of the car market had once again contracted. Public reaction to the car's exaggerated styling was tepid at best, with particular objections aimed at the Edsel's awkward-looking "horse collar" grill. Sales for the car started slowly and foundered. Newly appointed company Vice President Robert McNamara was charged with the task of salvaging the operation. Had McNamara held the position years earlier, historians point out, the Edsel project may never have been taken on, as McNamara strongly believed Ford should concentrate on the economy car market. McNamara attempted to improve the car's construction and appearance, but when the attempt failed, he was forced to halt production of the car at a disastrous loss of $250 million. To this day, the Edsel remains the biggest failure in American car history, "a monumental disaster created for tomorrow's markets created by yesterday's statistical inputs." History has treated the Edsel more kindly, as its looks are now considered to be an attractive example of 1950s flair. Like its namesake, Edsel Ford, the Edsel has come to be known as an unfair victim of circumstance.

This 1960 Edsel Deluxe Hardtop was photographed at Das Awkscht Fescht at Macungie Park in 2022.

[tathrin]

7, 35, and D for the ask game, please! I'd love to learn about a Mirkwood elf or two you'd like to share!

Oooh thank you so much for asking, it was so hard to choose who to talk about! I decided to pick some of my oldest, from the first round of Mirkwood World Building I did way back in the early 2000s and have since salvaged and revised to put into my current version of the forest:

Angmeril & Merilgais

They're sisters, both Silvan Elves of Greenwood who fought in the Last Alliance, sole survivors of their family (mom and brother both died in Oropher's Charge; dad had disappeared years earlier, and they never learned if he made it to the Sea or was taken/killed by Mogoth). The elder (Angmeril) ends up marrying Thranduil after the war and is mom to Rílaerloth and Legolas.

Questions take from this list. [picrew source]

7. What triggers nostalgia for them, most often? Do they enjoy that feeling?

For Angmeril (who in most of the stories I write has to eventually cross the Sea after being near-fatally injured fighting orcs in the early years of the Shadow) it's days when the light in Valinor hits the leaves of Taur-nu-Glaw just right to remind her of the dappled leaves of the Greenwood; or when the wind shifts so that she can no longer smell the sea, but only the loam and greenery of the forest, and it makes her think of the home she lost and the family she had to leave behind there.

For Merilgais, I think she actually experiences nostalgia the most after the War of the Ring, when the Shadow is lifted and Mirkwood starts to grow green and bright (relatively) again. I think that while she's glad, of course she is, that the Shadow has lifted, she is a little sad, too, because this isn't a real rebirth for her woods: it's a temporary reprieve before the Fading. I think she spent so long immersed in the darkness of Mirkwood, fighting the Shadow, that she misses it a little now: misses the way the woods used to be, dark and dangerous though it was; because it was also her forest. She was used to it, she knew it, she loved it even when it was at its darkest.

And now when a storm rolls in, and the clouds are thick, and the light that streams down into their trees is at its faintest—when she's in the deepest, darkest parts of the woods, where the traces of the Shadow linger most; when she's in a glade or grove or cavern where the darkness has not yet been wholly banished; then she remembers what her woods felt like at their worst, and when she felt at her most alive fighting back against the Shadow, laughing in the dark.

35. How do they treat the things their friends come to them excited about? Are they supportive?

Generally supportive, yes, both of them—for the most part.

Angmeril can be a little leery of things that are unfamiliar or especially dangerous, due mostly to her having been in enough positions of responsibility (a commander of Greenwood's warriors; an older sister; a parent) that she learned to take into consideration things like "will this ridiculous idea get you killed, you dummy?" — and because she's generally more aware of the concept of consequences than Merilgais is, and is thus a little less keen to just yeet herself at every passing fancy that catches her eye.

Somebody has to be the responsible party, after all, and we all know that's never going to be Merilgais.

Angmeril's sense of duty is very strong, and as with Thranduil, the good of The Forest always comes first (that's how they ended up together in the first place lol). That said, she's still only responsible by comparison to the rest of the Greenwood, so that's a pretty low bar. (This is the "charge 'em and they scatter" forest, after all.)

So if it's something that isn't absolutely 100% without a doubt going to get you and everyone with you killed, don't be an idiot! then yes, they will both be supportive of even very madcap and ridiculous ideas, and very quick to go along for the ride also. (Merilgais will go along for the ride even if it will probably get you all killed.)

And they're both extremely supportive of silly nonsense, and protective of childish joy and whimsy (in both children and adults). Neither of them are the sort of people who worry about "looking like a fool," but even if they did, it wouldn't stop them from engaging in any sort of game or play that makes an elfling happy, or cheers somebody up after a bad day.

It doesn't take either of them long to get on board with the utterly absurd concept of having a dwarf in the family, either, once they see how happy he makes Legolas.

D) Have they always had the same physical appearance, or have you had to edit how they look?

Yep, they have changed really not at all from their first inception, actually. Short, spindly little things with oak-brown hair and faces, and grey eyes in which hints of deep forest green can sometimes be seen; one stoic with her humor showing mostly in small smirks and the sharp glitter of her eyes, and the other laughing wildly with leaves in her hair and her sharp teeth flashing in the dark.

Neither one of them goes in much for fancy jewels or fine clothes (although they both learn to appreciate the former a little more once Gimli joins the family, because they're not heartless and thus couldn't possibly refuse presents made for them with such care!) and Merilgais is forever a bit of a feral wild-child, running barefoot through her trees, her thick braids as disheveled as it's really possible for an elf to look; and Angmeril only really looks as responsible and dignified as she does because she's standing next to Merilgais.

(She doesn't wear shoes much either; she just looks less like a feral creature and more like an eldritch forest spirit.)

Angmeril does let her hair grow-out after she sails to Valinor, which necessitates some fancier hairstyles to keep it up out of her way (she learned to like it short after she chopped it off that first time, so when it's long she wears it mostly in buns and updos) but only because she's waiting for Thranduil to join her before she chops it all off again.

She wants him to be there to see the horrified faces of all the Noldor and Vanyar when she does.

—Thank you for asking @fishing4stars it was so much fun to talk about my favorite forest cryptid sisters!

[prideraiised]

@ofheartandsoul asked: 🧡💌👗(for Gold!) | Meme here!

Clothing, Friendship and Romance themed headcanons for Gold undercut!

👗for a clothes-themed headcanon: We're starting with this one because its fastest teehee.

Little bro is a fashion disaster. Gold is a lot of things, but savvy in the ways of looking like he hasn't crawled out of a fucking dumpster? Boy he sure isn't that. Its no secret that Gold is short as all hell. He's capped out at 5'2" and making it your problem. This also means that the hasn't had to buy new clothes since he was like...fourteen? , and Gold rarely spends money if he doesn't have to...so he hasnt! Which means that red hoodie with the little flaps he wore during (HGSS)? , he's STILL wearing that fucking thing and let me tell you. It's seen better days. Most of Golds clothes are torn to shreds, worn down or generally covered in so much dirt blood and grime that no amount of washing them will salvage what was once, allegedly, clothing. (This does mean that his goddamn eight pack is hard to miss though. The undershirt is torn to a point where it reveals more than it covers). We call this 'hobo drip'

🧡for a friendship-themed headcanon

This is a headcanon derived partly from my experience writing Gold in multifandom discord roleplay: Despite the fact Gold was always bad at making friends when he was young he now, somehow, knows literally everybody. It's an ongoing joke in some behind the scenes circles that whenever a new pokemon character is introduced to a wider group, Gold is the guy who will know who that person is and have a pre-existing relationship with them. He's just generally not afraid to but his head into conversation , even when it doesn't involve him. It's jarring, but he's somebody more willing to engage with other people on a deeper level than most. Even villains tend to like him at least a little bit, because even when he actively disagrees with their monologue, he had least shows a willingness to try and understand them.

💌for a romance-themed headcanon

Alright lets get to what we're here for- Ahem.

When Gold was a kid up until after he left on his journey, he never knew his father. He lived alone with his (deathly sick) mother. He didn't have many friends growing up but he loved his mom more than anything else in the world, and because she was so sick often spent a lot of his time taking care of her (much to her shagrin). His mother was demur, wore a lot of pink pastelles, was generally pleasant and a total angel of a woman. The exact opposite of Gold, but she was very much dying. They were too poor for surgery, so they were pretty much on borrowed time.

For this reason Gold hates his father. He considers him a walk out who left without saying a word at the expense of his mothers health and happiness, and he resents his father for it. However, Gold is acutely aware of the fact that he's nothing like his mother, which fostered a deep rooted anxiety that he may have taken after his father instead. There are very very few things that put him on edge like that concept. This extends to his views on romance. More specifically, his fear over it. Gold is an individual who is afraid of almost nothing, but romance is the exception. It's an outright phobia that genuinely terrifies him. The possibility that somehow, someway, he will have all his anxiety over the chance he takes after his father confirmed to him by causing harm to somebody he was in a relationship with, either directly or indirectly, is something he just cannot cope with. He flusters easily, but he avoids any further discussion of the matter like the plague.

[kendrixtermina]

Giving Doctor Who a New Chance, Part 2: Wild Blue Yonder

While the idea of Donna not being able to restrain herself from making a pun is great, I kinda don't like the cheap pun in the prologue, its just making everything too light & silly

It just doesn't work if you know the historic Newton was pretty cranky, not cheerful & like other things about him that could've been better used, also this ignores the whole latin roots of the word gravity

i dunno was the show always this un-serious and it's just a while since I've seen it? like there was some silly-ass shit but not in this immersion-breaking manner

I do appreciate Donna's concern for the poor, poor TARDIS

haha they're snapping right back into doing the investigation routine

I think with "I say things like that now" the Doctor means he's more open & honest but Donna of course took it as meaning that he also likes dudes.

David Tennant can still communicate a whole lot with his expressions

It's a nice scene of them panicking together but still comforting each other in their panic

and of course Donna wants to speak to the manager

hm, liking this one so far. it has a couple of mysteries & nice creepy ambiance

it's a nice parallel in the differently lit room, Donna wondering what will happen to her family & the Doctor wondering what will happen to the TARDIS, this low-level fear of the world going on without them - the Doctor saying how much he likes Wilfred & lamenting that the TARDIS is all he's got left etc. It's an eerie little dialogue I like it.

The shapeshifters are having an "AI can't draw hands" problem. Worry not, humans too struggle to draw hands. In this we are alike

I wonder if they are repeating stuff or talking to ach other. Is it two entitites or just one?

It was bound to happen and just ignoring it would be wonky in its own way but just having some of Chibnall's decisions mentioned reminds me of how he was SUCh. a BAD. WRITER like making big destruction happen without weight or stakes. With the past writers when something major went poof you "heard" it the next few seasons, but Chibnall torched the whole backstory, Galligrey AND a big chunk of the universe without any real narrative weight

Like it just happened and there wasn't really - like, the characters didn't react to it, it wasn't given meaning. It's not just that he made changes I disagreed with but that the execution was So! Bad!

Still, I have often been fond of saying "there are no shitty ideas, only shitty executions" or " a competent writer can make any idea work" - so, like, no matter how shitty the idea, a better execution can salvage something. in this short time RTD managed to make this character express some actual feelings & attach a personal meaning to the event- so the backstory reveal means Gallifrey "got complicated", the widespread destruction of the flux is another thing to feel guilty of... see, see? It isn't so hard! Character! Having! Emotions! I don't envy RTD for having to try his best to salvage this mess while being respectful /professional/ non-petty.

The average 15 year old fanfiction writer is a better writer than Chibnall! Ok. enough ranting now.

I like these quiet episodes that just let the characters marinate in their feelings a bit in a closed loop environment. another thing I've messed: atmosphere! the bland, nondescript settings for so long

The Doctor's response here is probably a mix of caring alot about Donna specifocally & just general done-ness

I like the creepy atmo of this thing & the concept of the creatures not quite understanding how existing works & gradually figuring it out

Pouring one out for the long-dead spaceship captain

it was an interesting twist how the actual Donna couldn't actually make sense of the information from the metacrisis, but still gets a sense that a lot of heavy stuff has happened from the way he's asking. I think he kinda wish she knew so he could get a hug from somebody who knows.

that was a good one, overall, pretty creepy.

They're really going with this idea of the world being in constant wibbly-wobbly, timey-wimey flux, hm... like it was always there as a sort of excuse but they're kinda making it a more explicit part of things.

I love how the Doctor & Wilfred are SO glad to see each other & it rly calls back that bond they had at what, for the Doctor, was a pretty difficult time. I got feelsy.

OK that was a good one. I always like the creepy, abstract ones.

And of COURSE the earth has been hit by some misfortune while they were away. OF COURSE.

[tater-th0t13]

I think that when people get an idea in their heads that to them is a fundamental truth, an inflexible truth, its like the neuroplasticity is being baked out of them.

Brains are often compared to many objects like computers and sponges, but I think the closest we can get to a metaphor for how the brain works is clay. Malleable and learns through action and reaction, can be stretched and strengthened, as well as hardened and sharpened, and of course broken.

Some people get thoughts in their heads that are in our minds, hardened cold hard facts. Like a piece of pottery, it has weathered the harshest of heats and criticism and comes out the other end still intact and true. Like going through your whole life looking in the mirror, comparing yourself to models, and hearing others confirm your ugliness. Subjective opinions that are so constant and high-pressure that we begin to shape ourselves and our ideas around them thinking that accepting them will wether us against more and more heat.

But just because a piece has been fired and hardened by time, does not mean that it cannot continue to be shaped. A brain that is so set in its ways can still be changed. However, this usually means breakage.

Many people may not know that even after a clay figure has been through a kiln, that piece can be broken apart, soaked for a time, and return to its original plasticity.

The same can go for what we believe to be fundamental truth. For some it comes in the form of a comment that is like a crack in the porcelain; it does not align with the hardened truth, but the new knowledge itself cannot be denied outright. Somebody, somewhere thinks you’re pretty.

But when a truth in your mind is being tested, cracked, or even shattered, one must ask themselves if the thought is even salvagable? Some people glue their truths back together as if nothing had happened, ignoring the cracks and pretending their faith was not just shaken. Others can see that the truth is not as sound as they once believed, but its familiar and to throw it away is to rebuild entirely, and stick to the pieces they have left despite the inconsistencies. Some people make beautiful new truths, taking pieces of the past they still believe, while incorporating new ideas that challenge the old, not ignoring either. Others find themselves entirely over again when their truths are shattered, and find joy again in making a new truth.

I guess the feeling that I’m trying to express is, continue to shape your mind. When you have a hard opinion about some topic, or others around you seem to have an opinion *for* you, push back and continue to roll those concepts around in your hands, share them with others and water them with fresh ideas. A thought becomes hardened when not stretched, explored, or nuanced.

Some parts of you are inevitably going to harden due to comfort; you will decide certain ideas are right the way they are, there is no evidence to prove you otherwise, and you simply will not be challenged on certain subjects. But if they are challenged? Will you be malleable to the thoughts of others and their opinions? Or will their truths cause a crack in yours?

[kevinsreviewcatalogue]

Review: Deadstream (2022)

Deadstream (2022)

Not rated

<Originally posted at https://kevinsreviewcatalogue.blogspot.com/2024/10/review-deadstream-2022.html>

Score: 4 out of 5

Deadstream is a movie I'd heard a lot about when it first came out, but never got around to watching until now. A found footage horror/comedy in which the main hook is that the protagonist is livestreaming everything for his fans, this film is largely a one-man show for Joseph Winter, who co-wrote and co-directed it with his wife Vanessa Winter. It is an often hilarious spoof of the culture surrounding YouTubers and livestreamers paired with a genuinely scary supernatural horror movie, one where the two sides come together to create the feel of a topsy-turvy Scooby-Doo episode, with ghostly frights and impressive creature effects paired with self-awareness and a moral parable out of The Twilight Zone. I did have a few nagging questions about some things, but other than that, this is perfect spooky season viewing for somebody who wants a movie that's actually scary but still fairly lighthearted.

Our protagonist Shawn Ruddy is an internet personality known for livestreams on a fictional site called LivVid in which he, a guy who's "afraid of everything," pulls dangerous and often illegal stunts with the stated purpose of overcoming his fears. In truth, however, it's all for the clicks and views, as evidenced when one stunt he pulled ended with a homeless man winding up in the hospital, forcing him to record an insincere apology video in order to salvage his career and reputation. Six months later, he's making his triumphant comeback to streaming with what he calls his most dangerous stunt yet: spending the night in Death Manor, a house in rural Utah where several people have died and which is reputed to be haunted. Sure enough, the place has ghosts up to the rafters, and naturally, they don't want him around. Unfortunately, as a self-imposed challenge to make sure he wouldn't back out and lose sponsors, he locked the door to the house and threw away the key, meaning that he's trapped in there for the night even though his life is now in clear danger.

The basic concept is ingenious, and a very modern twist on found footage for the age of livestreaming. The film is not subtle in its parodies of people like PewDiePie (who Shawn mentions by name) and MrBeast, aggressively mercenary and often unethical entertainers whose only qualms come from the possible legal or social consequences of their actions, not any sense of right and wrong. Everything we see of Shawn in the first act paints him as a deeply phony person who doesn't take the situation he's in seriously, but is pretending he does for the people watching. He aggressively watches his language (and bleeps it out when he does curse) to avoid saying any bad words that might get his videos demonetized, but he also built his career on doing things that should not make him a role model for children, the product of hyper-literal online moderation systems that fixate on dirty but otherwise harmless language and sexuality while letting genuinely toxic behavior slide. Whenever he grabs some of the energy drink that's sponsoring his show, he always knows to make sure the logo on the label is facing the camera so his viewers can see that he's enjoying a healthy, energizing can of Awaken Thunder. Once the actual ghosts come out, of course, this demeanor starts to crack as genuine fear enters his voice, culminating in a breakdown where he realizes what a terrible person he's been. It's still very much a comedy too, of course. Even during his big breakdown, Shawn still brings up, without any prompting, a racially-charged stunt he did in the past that he was criticized for in order to insist that he's not racist. Watching this, I got the sense that Joseph and Vanessa Winter have Thoughts about the crop of influencers who have risen up on sites like YouTube and Twitch, with Shawn serving as a symbol of everything that people find rotten about those sites and their personalities. Joseph's performance walks a fine line, making him enough of a jackass that I wanted to see him suffer but still lending him enough humanity that I wanted him to survive. Shawn is not exactly a likable guy, but he's not a one-dimensional caricature, and making him come across as an ignorant doofus instead of actively malicious oddly enough makes the satire sting harder. There is an actual person beneath the character he plays online, but the line between the real man and the character has been blurred by the pressures of online fame pushing him to go further and further in pursuit of the constant high.

Beyond Shawn, most of the living human characters we see are the people watching his stream, some of whom record videos in order to give him advice and let him know the house's history and that of the various ghosts within it, a fun use of the livestreaming conceit to let us know that Shawn's nightmare is being broadcasted to the world and that people are reacting to it with both horror and gallows humor. The only person Shawn actually meets face-to-face is Chrissy, a fan of his who followed him to the house and knows a lot more about what's actually happening than she lets on. I don't want to spoil anything except to say that I was able to figure out pretty quickly what her actual deal was, but I can say that Melanie Stone (who worked with the Winters again that same year on V/H/S/99 in one of that film's best segments) made Chrissy an exceptionally memorable character. From the moment we meet her, we see that she's kind of unhinged and clearly has a hidden agenda, one that Shawn is right to be suspicious of. She was an excellent companion for Shawn, her weirdness treading the line between hilarious and creepy and often managing to be both at the same time. Whenever Stone was on screen, I knew I was in for something good.

Finally, there are the scares. This was filmed in a house that's reputed to be haunted in real life, and the Winters exploited that to the fullest, making heavy use of its dark, dingy environments to make it feel like a place where Shawn would be in danger exploring even if there weren't any ghosts around. As for the ghosts themselves, all of them are realized with creative practical effects work that gives us a hint as to the awful ways in which they died. Mildred, the house's first occupant, gets the most screen time out of them and the most ways to torment Shawn. An heiress and failed poet in life who killed herself after her lover (who also published her poems) died, she turns out to have a number of uncanny similarities to Shawn, the both of them having pursued fame in their respective times to the point that Shawn even compares her to himself as an old-timey version of an influencer. She has a creepy look that the film makes the most of as she stalks and taunts Shawn, serving as a highly entertaining antagonist with a flair for the dramatic. The other ghosts, ranging from a young boy with his deformed conjoined twin growing out of him to a bloated woman to a 1950s cop to a man covered in moss, were all imposing presences with appearances that called to mind zombies more than ghosts. This did raise a few questions with how they were presented as corporeal presences in the house who Shawn is seemingly able to fight with normal weapons, even though Mildred is shown to require a special ritual to defeat her for good. That said, the vagueness felt like the point here, like Shawn had no idea what to do either and was just winging it as he fought to survive.

The Bottom Line

Deadstream was a lightweight but incredibly fun horror/comedy whose premise is golden in its simplicity, and which largely fulfills it thanks to a pair of great performances, cool ghosts, and its sense of humor. This is excellent spooky season viewing, and between this and their work on V/H/S/99, I'm excited to see whatever movie the Winters are working on next.

[cars4cashauckland]

Efficient Cash for Cars Services in Auckland: Auto Dismantlers and Car Removal Experts

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One of the many benefits for working with a Cash for Cars firm is they take autos in any condition. If your car has rust, parts are missing, or simply nearly totaled, they'll give you a fair assessment and pay cash today. Moreover, the service is usually fast and efficient due to most Cash for Cars firms that offer same-day car removal services in Auckland. It means that you'll remove an unwanted car while also having money in your hand on the same day. So, it saves your time and efforts.

Auto wreckers in Auckland are the breath of Cash for Cars. Once your vehicle is collected from the location, it gets taken to an auto dismantling facility where all the usable parts get carefully removed and recycled, keeping the environment clean and free of pollution. In this undertaking, parts like engines, transmissions, and even the minor parts like mirrors and lights are made recyclable so that they do not pile up as waste and instead promote the concept of sustainability. Auto dismantlers in Auckland are experts who salvage valuable materials from cars at various conditions; hence, no matter how badly damaged the vehicle is, it still has value.

Auto wrecker services in Auckland are environment-conscious, as they take care of disposing the liquids and other contents which could cause adverse effects on nature. Accessing authorized car wreckers means getting hold of a reliable service provider in Cash for Cars, thereby recycling the aged vehicle in an environmentally friendly manner.

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Source: https://medium.com/@cashcarsnz8/efficient-cash-for-cars-services-in-auckland-auto-dismantlers-and-car-removal-experts-e8eb788788c2

[y-rhywbeth2]

So apparently the scrying eyes are also a "hint that Gortash/one of his cronies are watching you from beyond," (thank you @asteriasfallingstarsandtears for the devnote)

I hope those things are capable of playback, because the concept that Gortash has just left them automated/let somebody else handle it, then act 3 rolls around and he learns from Orin that Durge is still alive, runs off to check the footage and discovers he could've tried to salvage this plan weeks ago if he'd actually bothered to check the security footage is entertaining. If there was a person in charge of informing him about things like this they are so utterly fired.

Ketheric "I know who you are and I'm not telling" Thorm is being smug beyond the grave because he was paying attention.

Was there ever an explanation of what was going on with the scrying eyes all over the place? Who do they belong to, did I miss something?

[con-error-fusion]

Concept

After returning from tartarus and the whole war and shiz, on realizing percy has acute ptsd (idk if that’s a thing for humans, but assuming the effects of nectar and ambrosia and demigods’ natural affinity to quick healing… also Hestia helps coz she’s really into mental health these days ok let’s use our imagination shhh). Everybody is pretty concerned, but Annabeth is worried sick coz she can see he’s not sleeping well and she can’t spend enough time with him what with college and moving and Magnus. So one day she decides to clear her whole schedule to do something with him (nothing like that you dirty minded freakos) but she can’t really think of something special enough. Nico notices and (because of the nagging voice of will in his head telling him to “SHOW [his] niceness coz nobody’s falling for the stone heart emo persona anymore, hun”) asks her what’s wrong and she tells him and he says yeah he’s worried too and stuff. 

Then he goes “Hey, so like… yeah, um… remember when I had a crush on Percy?” Annabeth sees his face and just bursts out laughing *oh he’s so smol and awkward*

“Yeah, go on.”

“Well, most people don’t know this… But I’m actually a lot into music and-”

“Everybody knows, Nico. What with your exquisite collection of band shirts. I’m quite jealous actually, how do you know so much music? Because there’s hardly any music ‘shops’ and stuff that’s not littered with unsafe amounts of radio and other waves.”

“Ah, well… Since I spent most of my time alone, I spent much of it collecting vinyls and cassettes. Visiting thrift shops and the sort. And I have some contacts.”

“Yeah, Mrs. O’Leary, lonely ghosts, and old women that run thrift shops.”, Will speaks up, leaning on a tree trunk nearby, with a smug smile.

“Hahaha! Hello, Will.”

“Will! Since when have you been standing there?!”

Will gives her a toothed smile, ignoring Nico, “So let’s go check out the hardcore Mr. Ghost King’s vinyl collection, then.” And before Nico can finish rolling his eyes, Will is leading the way with long excited strides, chattering away with a glint of pride that Nico knows is for his geek ass. He smiles to himself and follows them to his cabin. 

The dark room is not much different from what Annabeth was expecting, but it still surprises her. It’s different yet expectable. The cabin is big and cool, and just bright enough to see the colours of the numerous things in the room. There’s really no one way of describing the furniture, forget the room. There was a small, slightly worn out, black leather couch in a corner near the window covered with blinds that were covered in graffiti, half open to let some light in. The two walls next to the couch served as support for stacks of precariously placed books and papers. There were three low shelves/coffee tables overflowing with mythomagic and other cards and board games. A bigger shelf placed against the opposite corner held a grand gramophone with neatly organized vinyles in rows in glass cabinets above and below it. The floor was littered with McDonalds wrappers and Coke- zero bottles (yeah, Hermes sells his fake Coke as real Coke now to mortals. That guy… SMH). Placed on the ground near the glass cabinet is a Casio cassette player and many old-school rectangular lunch boxes full of hand labelled cassettes. The doormat in the room (yes, a doormat at the entrance of the cabin. Inside it.) is a cut out from a lush carpet. Cozy blankets and thin quilts are also strewn on the floor near the walls, a thick, single queen sized mattress on the left wall, just before the window. It takes Annabeth a while to take in all of this.

“Yeah this is why I didn’t want to show you my room. Please, don’t say anything.”

“BUT NIC- ”

“No. Let’s get back to Percy, shall we?”, Nico interrupts, successfully shutting her up, a feat in itself.

“Oh. Yeah. How did we even end up here? We were talking about Percy…”

“Yeah well, i told you about my music because, well…”, Nico eyes Will, gingerly framing his next words. “When I used to… like… Percy-” 

“Oh for the sake of gods, I don’t care just say it already!”, Will remarks, rolling his eyes. 

Nico quickly takes out a white square envelope from the the upper shelf and plays the song. “Yeah so I had a song… Which made me think of him. I think I want you to have it. It’s by this great band called Coldplay, relatively new. I think you should dedicate it to him.

“Okay I know, all this build up to tell you of a song…”

“I think it’s a great idea. Music speaks volumes in a way nothing else can…”, Will says, his head resting on Nico’s shoulder, eyes closed.

Annabeth agrees, “That sounds so good, Nico. It;s so Percy. But where, how and when do we do whatever it is we’re doing?”

“I know just the thing.”, Will speaks up, still in the same position, just with one eye open and a wide, toothy grin.

“Nico has a karaoke machine?”, Percy inquires on their way over to the Hades cabin that evening.

“Nah, they borrowed it from the apollo cabin for tonight.”

Percy wasn’t surprised at seeing the cabin, he was surprised my not much these days, and Will, Frank, Hazel and a grunting Nico did a pretty good job cleaning up the place too. 

The demigods shared laughs together after gods knew how long and drank kool-aid and coke zero, each from a different kind of cup, and fries and doritos they bought from the Hermes cabin while they sand their hearts out. As the night approached its end, Annabeth dedicates this song to Percy and he tears up a bit. 

the nights concludes with them and others slow dancing to this song and other songs, courtesy of DJ Di Angelo who himself ended up getting pulled under the table by a certain Will Solace.

Piper has several framed copies of the photoset of them being caught red handed (and red faced) snogging and flustered under the sound desk.

[creature-wizard]

Some tips for new witches trying to research- Generally speaking, asking older practitioners which books they started out with isn’t the greatest way to go about things, because these books simply just aren’t that great. There tends to be a lot of pseudohistory, a lot of really shallow explanations, a lot of cultural appropriation, and a lot of casual bigotry (especially toward Judaism). It’s more helpful to ask who or what they would point you toward these days. Understand that you won’t always be pointed toward printed books, and that books are not an inherently superior source of information. (Seriously, show me the most ridiculous nonsense you can find on TikTok, and there’s a good chance I’ll be able to find the same idea printed in a book somewhere.) No matter what the medium your information’s coming from, you should try and seek out academic sources as much as you can. Yes, academia is very white and very colonialist, but you can counter a lot of the white patriarchal bias by seeking out and learning from academics who are marginalized in some way. Also, beware of chortlemuffins. These are basically claims that were pulled out of somebody’s ass and have been repeated so many times that everyone just assumes they’re true - EG, “the Easter bunny has pagan origins” or “the witch hunts were targeting cryptopagan cults.” Don’t take any historical claim for granted. Detecting bullshit is a skill you have to hone, and the best way to hone it is by increasing your topical literacy. Like for example, if you actually read ancient to early modern alchemical texts, you’ll be better equipped to recognize when somebody’s making shit up about the beliefs and practices of old-time alchemists. (Yes, for many people alchemy really was about turning lead into gold. This notion that it was all just a fancy spiritual metaphor all along is a modern effort to salvage alchemy as a concept.) Increasing your topical literacy is a slow process, but it’s worth it. And again, old books are not necessarily good, let alone better than any other sources of info. People can and always have been saying just whatever they want in books. There is, of course, value in reading them - and a lot of that value is in learning about the author’s experiences and perceptions. The main thing here is to increase your topical literacy by trying to find solid resources in whatever form they take.

[nerice]

💍🤕🍵 for faye :D

unwise ocposting ahead, thanks for enabling me ;3c

💍 does your OC have a specific item that is priceless to them but may (or may not) be completely worthless to someone else? is there a story behind this item or is it just because they like it so much?

th obvious answer here is ofc linn's melody pendant which is 500 shades of complicated BUT going with a different flavor here bc We've Been There. so!! due to the timelooping faye can't hold on to things that she doesn't carry on her person (+ there rly isn't anything abt existence that she cherishes to that degree) HOWEVER. the flower braid routine is immensely sacred to her & goes back to her first moments on the soul plains (soul flowers….) nd ever since she always carries some with her ;w; this world is not worth saving etc but also she absently collects flowers in passing and weaves them into her hair & she actually has a ritual of always picking (1) soul flower every new timeline for good luck (kept in the amber that's on the chest piece of her armor) :3!! also chess fucking hates it when she does that or destroys souls in general which is a bonus lol

🤕 what is the worst injury your OC has ever suffered? do they have any scars or lasting physical reminders of it? do they get sick often or have any lasting medical conditions?

h. you're asking this knowing fully well what the answer is and i respect that. so, here's Their Moment <3

some people just don't get the concept of unwelcome etc. not much more 2 say here except that her arm might have been salvageable if she'd managed to hold on to it (immortality is a potent superglue) all things considered tho faye adapts fairly well, but she does suffer from intense phantom pain due to how traumatic [gestures] was, which is compounded by the soulless condition bc she also gets the burning blood pain /in the arm she no longer has/ it sucks extremely somebody pls update the invisible moon abt her new body plan h.

🍵 are there any rumours about your OC hanging around? nasty ones or just good humoured? got any gossip to share about them?

soulless, even faye as extra as she is, do have a tendency to just fade out of people's awareness & since faye keeps extremely on the downlow outside of the times that require her intervention, she rly isn't inspiring any folktales EXCEPT for her one bad habit of watching seed kids die (and she knows all their locations, even the ones sky never found. feels it in her blood whenever they bloom and turn soulless for second :))) so everywhere a seed kid has died, inevitably, someone will recall a woman, often armored but every so often inconspicuous in her sundress, sitting in a window or at the edge of a roof or a nearby cafe, not at all alarmed by the destruction and gone as soon as the ordeal is over :) it's also how sky learns, for better or for worse, that the mystery night traces she is picking up from time to time are not a specter of her past. :))>

-

is it vain 2 link the ask game again bc i have a lot of fun answering these ashdjhdj if anyone wants to ask more >;3 oc page in desc

[fierceawakening]

Yes! You get it! Or at least you get what I meant. I’m still not sure what nuance the OP thinks I missed. But yeah, I meant that what type of character (upstanding/likeable vs. corrupt or slovenly or whatevr/unlikeable) is a different thing entirely from how engaging the character is (a function of how well the writer does their job.)

Somebody out there will like anything, or better said everything will have somebody who likes it. But if the vast majority of people find it boring? Yeah, then there’s probably something the writer didn’t do as well as they could’ve. One part of writing is skill. It’s not always important, but it is a factor if we’re talking about quality of media. Media with a good concept and bad writers won’t be un salvageable necessarily (lots of people find this ideal for fic inspiration!), but it will be clunky.

Sometimes I wonder if people online like… mean something different than me by bad? Like the discussion on my blog of the concept of bad food.

It’s like, online “bad” means “should never exist,” but in daily life it means everything from “so-so” to “disliked” to “poor quality,” to, yes, SOMETIMES, “corrupting and unquestionably terrible.” But only sometimes.

the two sentences “this character isn’t an ideal protagonist for this book that relies on us liking them to drive emotional weight, which leaves much of the book hollow because they’re really unlikable” and “protagonists are supposed to be likable, this one is not likable, so the book sucks” are different. the latter is incorrect. and lazy. the protagonist of berenice is not a likable person - he’s gloomy, he’s obsessive, he literally steals someone’s teeth. hamlet. lolita. death note. rick and morty. greek mythology. grimm’s fairytales. these aren’t likable people… they’re interesting people. and the stories get their emotional weight and tension in ways other than holding our favourite meow meow over a fire. it’s sad that so much media analysis has devolved into shallow “protag was unlikable therefore story bad”, instead of the deeper analysis of how and why the story fails to carry emotional weight when the reader doesn’t find this person cute, charming, funny, or whatever. or if they aren’t able to project themself onto this person. tbh most good stories are “hey everybody, look at this fucked up sack of wet potatoes, sure would be fucked up if they self-destructed in a way that harmed everyone around them :)” and somebody analysing media should be aware of that. just think a few steps deeper about these sorts of things.

[smittenroses]

EYO🔊CAN🔊I🔊GET🔊HCS HOW🔊LEO🔊ANDREW BANE🔊WOULD🔊COURT🔊SOMEBODY🔊 this blog so hot 10/10 -arson anon

More Courting Headcanons - Leo, Bane, and Andrew

Leo Beck || Hell Ember

Leo is a traditional man above all else and isn't very shy when it comes to the concept of courting or dating due to the fact he has already done this before though we all know how that ended

so courting would be very old style when he starts, and is very flirtatious in a gentlemanly way. Flowers, leading you wherever you need to go, making you little things

due to his heartbreak before, he tends to be very heightened when he thinks that you might be bored, upset or angry at him, since the last thing he wants is for you to leave him.

ultimate simp, he will do everything and anything for you, even spoon-feeding you desserts [with your permission], back massages, hanging Freddy from the ceiling because he kept annoying you. He will do anything for you if it meant keeping you happy.

please, please have a good relationship with Emma, since Leo knows that Emma is Lisa (since she looks a lot like her mother), if anyone makes her cry or hurts her, it's on sight.

on that note, if you want to sit down and help him make things, he will adore it.

help, I'm running out of ideas for Leo

Bane || Gamekeeper

Bane is a shy boi (tm) so he isn't very good with being upfront about his feelings, especially since he had spent a good chunk of his life mostly in the forest area without other human contact outside of the poachers.

however with you, he's rather sweet; gentle touches, longing hand holding, even makes you things to help out in the garden when he notices that you might be having trouble with certain tasks.

now asking you out is something that would be troubling for him since 1. he's mute [by choice, see here for more details], 2. he has never tried dating before, even in his youth when he was still around other people.

this means at first he gets everything wrong about the traditional ways of courting, like he can't lead you with his arm interlinked with yours since he has huge biceps , and he's not the best at making romantic poetry or music since he never tried either. But you adored all of that, it was his own little way of trying to win you over.

eventually, he figured out that just being with you is what made you happy, and thus he began to spend as much time with you as possible; gardening, reading, hell, even practising for games when the two of you had the chance.

please hold him, please.

Andrew Kreiss || Gravekeeper

Andrew isn't soft like how most fan material has perceived him - sure, he can be skitty, he can be aversive to people, but the last thing that should be expected of him is to be soft. If anything he's more stern and cold than most survivors, even after warming up to them.

This projects into his daily activities, and the way he interacts with you. Sure, while he might not like people due to his trauma, it didn't mean that he couldn't get along with other people. You just happened to be someone he favoured above else since you never treated him weirdly due to his albinoism, you never tried to baby him. You were just a friend.. at first.

eventually, he started to give you things he began to salvage from matches when they appeared that you liked; jewellery, pens and pencils, even clothing he notices and has enough time to sneak into his satchel before having to go for a rescue, decode, or have to kite a hunter.

And while he wasn't a good cook, he began to grow a habit of sneaking extra food out of the kitchen for the two of you to share in some other room, usually, with the curtains drawn so then Andrew didn't have to strain his eyes against the light.

he also began to read books to you when the two of you were alone in the library to the best of his abilities. He didn't get to have an education like the others, given that he was thought to have been the devil outside of the manor. Sure, everyone tried to help each other learn and strengthen abilities both academically and physically, but sometimes people did tend to struggle.

He also loves to give pressed flowers, and call you his angel he's a religious man, even if the church did fuck him over, he doesn't think it's God's fault

however... you begin to wonder if you're more a replacement to his mother than a lover when he did eventually fully ask you out. It was obvious her death did hit him hard, but eventually, this began to fade away especially after you talked to him about it; he just really misses her.

he really just craves affection that he missed out on.

[colossalsummer]

That Crush Cuffs Scene in Nightfall

✨Why I like it and you should too✨

YA lit and youth culture in general spends so much time celebrating romantic relationships, and sometimes I think it feeds this idea that romance is the highest form of love.

Our obsession with true love in stories for teenagers has created this bizarre pressure to find your soulmate before the age of 18. In middle and high school, the concept of a casual date seemed impossible to me. Expressing interest in somebody carried all the anxiety of a proposal. A lot of the month-long dating relationships my friends were in felt like mini-marriages.

Which is why That Crush Cuffs Scene absolutely destroyed me in the best possible way. 

Because it blows all of those myths about first loves out of the water.

🚨NIGHTFALL SPOILERS🚨

Before you get out your torches and pitchforks to defend your sweet baby boy...

I'm sure there are people who feel like Dex got shortchanged, and I can totally understand where they're coming from. We spent a huge portion of the first KOTLC book learning to like-like Dex, only to spend the next four and a half books slowly peeling Sophie away from him. I'm sure that was hard for people who are really sold on Sodex.

And don't get me wrong, I really liked Dex as a love interest in the first book. That scene with the telescope will never not make my heart explode.

But this scene where Dex confesses his feelings for Sophie is a really special moment, and I love that it exists.

So Dex makes these crush cuffs. And he makes them knowing that Sophie has to wear them, like, for her survival. 

If she likes him, then great. She wears the cuffs, he makes Keefe and Fitz cry, the end.

But if she doesn’t like him, then Dex has forced her to decide between two icky options. A) Flat-out reject him and this gift he spent a lot of time on, or B) take the passive route, wear the cuffs, and feel sick inside. 

I really do think Dex meant well, but this was, at best, an immature move. He put his friend in a really ugly position with high emotional stakes. His idea of a  relationship with Sophie is on such a high pedestal it’s like he’s totally lost touch with reality.

Even when Dex sees Sophie’s reaction to the cuffs (“Ouch,” Dex mumbled, “You don’t have to look that horrified.”) he still tries to talk her into wearing them, which is just wild. This boy is not in his right mind.

So Sophie tries to finagle her way out of this crazy booby trap that Dex has created. “Could you make it look like a nexus instead?” “People will think we’re dating, and we’re not.” “We’re technically cousins.” And finally she backs him into a corner, realizes he ordered the cuffs way ahead of time, and is forced to confront the truth.

We’re back to the two options Dex set up for Sophie. And now that she knows he’s had these crush cuffs for MONTHS, she knows exactly how end-of-the-world important she is to Dex. So she knows that both of these options she’s facing end with somebody crying themselves to sleep that night.

But what I love is that Sophie decides that “Dex [is] worth fighting for.” So she creates a third option. 

The Kiss is such a great solution, because it proves to both her and Dex that she really gave him a fair shot. In the end, it just wasn’t meant to be.

And what I really love about this kiss, besides it being terrible, is that it’s Sophie’s first kiss. It’s something you expect an author to save for the end of the book, when the heroine chooses The One in the love triangle. But Sophie cashes in her first kiss to salvage a friendship.

So Sophie makes her point. They debrief how they feel. Sophie thanks Dex for caring about her. Dex thanks her for letting him down easy and apologizes for causing extra drama during a scary time in Sophie’s life. They affirm their friendship is more than intact (“Forever.”) and decide to take a break from each other.

Of course Dex is disappointed, because this outcome is different than what he wanted, but he never acts like getting friendzoned is a step down. And the next day, Sophie wears the crush cuffs with humility and protects Dex’s dignity.

I am delighted by how That Crush Cuffs Scene defuses the teen romance value system by shattering Sodex’s dating potential and stripping away the premium on the First Kiss. Because we’re left with this kind, vulnerable conversation where Sophie and Dex discover just how much they treasure each other, and that their friendship is enough. 

I expect the new relationship that emerges from all this awkwardness to be hugely rewarding, at least to me. I hope it delivers the depth that Sodex fans deserve--especially after Dex kind of sidelined the past couple books. 

I realized today that with all of Sophie’s potential partners, there’s that same reassurance. Even if Sophie and [insert favorite boy here] don’t end up together-together, their friendship is strong enough to adapt and survive. 

Sophie and Dex show us the value of a relationship, romantic or not, that minimizes drama. And that the key to minimizing drama is to value our friendships just as much as our romances... and maybe bringing the intensity of our romantic gestures down a notch. At least as an opening move. Maybe ask your girl if she wants to go on a lunch date before you handmake a big honking set of crush shackles and engineer a romantic confrontation.

First kisses, first dates, and first relationships are made for experimentation. Commitment is important, but when you’re getting to know somebody and still learning what you want in a partner, it’s more important to feel free to say, “This isn’t working for me.” Anytime. For any reason. And to feel like if you do walk away--even if you’re single for the rest of your life--you will still be a whole person who is loved deeply. 

That Crush Cuffs Scene taught us how to protect the hearts of the people we love. I hope we see more of that in teen romance.

I’m truly sorry that Dex is out of the game, but I feel strongly that Sodex did not die in vain. I hope some of you that love that ship do, too. 💕

[axlsangel]

A Favor

Axl Rose x Reader

Concept: You work as Axl’s PA during the Use Your Illusion Era, but to Axl, you could be of more use.

Warning: 3,000 Words of S M U T

(*ovaries have left chat*)

You watch as the supermodel twirls her hair, tilting her head almost enough to snap her neck as she listens to Axl. It didn’t take a genius to recognize that she wasn’t much into his rambling as she was into making him believe she cared, but you had no room to speak. Instead, you were busy sorting out Axl’s suitcase for him before you all headed onto a plane back to North America for the next leg of the tour.

Needless to say, your arms were beginning to hurt from having to fold so many clothes since Axl had a habit of crumpling them and squeezing them together to make it all fit inside. Now and then, you snickered at the graphics, or just some of the outfit choices in general, like a shirt that read ‘Nobody Knows I’m a Lesbian’. You even blushed as you came across a personal favorite, his Marlboro t-shirt he’d worn during their concert in Indiana. You examined the fabric for a moment, recalling how he had paired it with a light pink bandana, thinking him to be utterly gorgeous throughout the show where he’d offered compassion to his fans and nailed every note with ease.

“Should I wear that one for our next show?” Axl’s voice erupted you from your thoughts, urging you to look up. By now, Stephanie had left the room, plausibly to catch her flight back to New York, where she was staying.

“You don’t have to,” you murmured, looking through some of his options. “This black fishnet can work wonders.”

Axl snorted, giving you a playful eye roll as he sat back down on the hotel sofa. You can tell he was instantly sucked back into his thoughts just by the way he appeared— the familiar hunch of his shoulders, his pursed lips, and the way his knee began to bob relentlessly.

“Is there anything I can do for you, Boss?” You murmured, sensing his tension pivoting around the room. You’d been warned many times before taking up the job that Axl was hard to deal with, not only as a friend, but just his mere presence could be tiring. Though you continue to stick beside him, mainly because you fear him having to deal with losing another person in his life.

Axl looks up at you, scrutinizing you in a way that felt unfamiliar. The chartreuse in his eyes had darkened, a mysterious grey seeming to swivel around his dilated pupils.

“Do you think she loves me?” He asks abruptly, his voice lacking of any tone you could decipher as a specific emotion.

“Stephanie?” You think for a moment, regarding whether it’d be wrongful to tell him of your exact thoughts. But Axl was never not honest with you, and he deserved the same respect in return. “Frankly, I-I don’t...”

Axl nods, but he remains peering at you.

“C’mere, Y/N,” he orders, but you remain stagnant. If you came any closer, you would be hovering over him, perhaps too close to his lap, especially in a place as intimate as the couch where borders could easily be broken.

“Axl, I—”

“Just c’mere,” he says, this time in a sharper manner, and you reluctantly oblige, stepping forward. Right before him, looking down at him, you can catch the aroma of nicotine and a hint of cologne emanating off of him. You thought of all the times you were able to recognize his scent, even in a subtle moments such as when he walked past you to get to the stage or to his dressing room. But now, you two were this close, and all you wanted was to feel closer to him. He was a mystery you wished to unravel, to lose yourself in the twists and turns that make up his complex persona. But he was somebody else’s.

“Can you do me a favor, dear?” He cocks his head at you, and you almost fall breathless as you discern the look in his eyes to be of lust.

“Anything,” you exhale, almost too quickly and confidently for your own liking, but he only smirks in approval.

“Kneel down right there, on the floor.”

You frown as you look at the spaces on the couch beside him, though after working for him for a good extent of time, you’ve acquired a fair idea of how picky and demanding he could be. Therefore, you knelt down just as he’d asked, looking up at him sheepishly. You watch as his fingers graze across his own belt, beginning to undo it as you recognize your own look of desire lingering in the reflections on his rings.

“Slide this off for me,” he tells you as he pushes his pants down to his thighs, and you quickly pull them down further, tossing them aside. Looking up at him, you can already see the bulge almost bigger than the height of your face. “Again,” he continues, this time with his briefs, prompting you to pull them down, stopping as you watch his cock spring free from the garment. You can hardly tear your gaze off of it, feeling almost intimidated seeing him in a position like that right before you. His legs spread slightly, his cock almost to his stomach, white droplets of precum already beading off the reddened tip. And of course, the way he looked at you, as though a treasure placed right before him.

It was unfaithful of him, and of you regarding that you were just his assistant. But your pussy was already beginning to throb in your underwear as you never longed for a more desirable sight.

“Suck me off, Y/N,” he gives his next demand.

You lean closer, resting your hands on his knees, taking a moment to register the abrupt turn of events as you look up at him. “Are y-you sure?”

“Of course, I need this, I need you to do this...” His hand reaches to caress your cheek, and you almost lose yourself in the reassuring smile he gives you, a flash of sweetness in a moment of sensuality.

Without wasting another second, you salivate your mouth, gliding your tongue from the base to the tip of his long cock. Instantly, he relaxes into the back of the couch, inspecting you as you get a feel for him. Your tongue travels every vein before you wrap your lips around the head, looking up at him as you swirl your tongue around it.

“Fuck...” he exhales, and his voice is already rasped and deepened with an appetite, one of which you devote yourself to salvaging. His fingers thread through your hair as you bring your lips down further, hollowing your cheeks to allow room for his girth to push through. His hips rise from the cushion, descending and ascending again and again as he pushes your head down further. You don’t realize how far you’ve taken him until you feel his cock hitting the back of your throat. His hand had moved down to your neck, his thumb brushing along your chin in a slow and lazy manner as he released a deep moan.

You bobbed your head, caressing his balls in a more conscious manner regarding the tenderness there, though keeping your actions around his cock swift and sensual.

“Such a good girl,” he murmurs, his voice laced with seduction as you come back up, allowing the saliva that was starting to choke you spill out over his cock. He smirked as he smeared your own drool over your cheek with his thumb, slapping your face lightly before pushing you back down on his cock. You gag around him, though he continues to hold you there, bucking his hips over and over and fucking your mouth ruthlessly.

He brings you back up, giving you a moment to cough and gather back your strength. He pulls his shirt off, tossing it aside before his hands fall to his sides as he sinks back further into the couch. “Take your clothes off.”

You don’t hesitate, instantly denuding before him. As you unclasp your bra, you look up at him, eyeing the lustful anticipation in his eyes and allowing the bra to fall, your nipples hardening with the brisk flush of the air conditioner hitting them.

“Come up here, beauty,” he murmurs, even though you haven’t taken your thong off. You climb onto his lap, looking at him shyly as he wraps an arm around your waist, his other hand stroking your breasts tenderly. A lilting mewl escapes your lips as you lean back a bit, allowing him to almost cradle you as his fingers flick against the sensitive flesh. You shiver as you watch him lean closer, his tongue circling one of your areoles before flattening against your nipple.

“Axl,” you whisper, closing your eyes as you relax into the feeling, growing even more wet as he begins to nip and suck at different m places along your breasts, leaving reddened splotches that you were certain would progress into hickeys in only a matter of time. Your hand reaches to wrap around his cock, lazily stroking his erection as his lips travel your body.

“You’re so beautiful, Y/N,” he mumbles against you. You open your eyes as he rests you down on the cushion, watching him adjust himself between your legs, feeling almost too seen in such a vulnerable position. Though the way he adorns your body with soft hands and agile lips, you feel desired for the first time in the longest while.

His index fingers hook along the remaining skimpy fabric between you and him, and you lift your hips, allowing him to pull them down to your knees. You blush as he leans down, so close to your pussy that he could inhale the arousal riveting off of you.

“Such a pretty little pussy,” he comments, pressing a kiss to your clit, his eyes meeting yours. “S’all mine tonight...”

“A-Are you going to fuck me?” You inquire shyly, feeling your juices glazing your inner thighs, needing him more than ever.

“I’m gonna take my time with you,” he says, giving you a cute wink as he kisses along your pussy again. You witness your own wetness glistening off his lips, leaning your head back and sighing with a mix of contentment and desire. You wouldn’t mind Axl making love to you all night, especially if it was all you could have him for.

He takes his time rubbing his lips against your pussy, his fingers now and then dragging across your folds, spreading your wetness. He minds it as though a cat playing with a mouse, getting a feel for which places brought goosebumps to your skin whenever he touched them, and simply just admiring seeing something so perfect before him. You instinctively spread your legs further as you feel his sharp tongue flick against your clit, sliding beneath it and running down your folds with as much dexterity as his own finger could do.

“A-Axl,” you whimper as you feel yourself throbbing for him, needing him to move quicker or you’d just combust.

“Patience,” he hisses, looking up at you hastily before reverting his attention back to his little game. You sit up to grasp a better view of him, lacing your fingers into his hair and propping your leg on his shoulder. He leaves kisses along your inner thighs before spreading your folds again, his tongue flicking harshly against your opening, lapping up the juices dripping out of you. “So fuckin’ wet for me...”

“Shit!” You moan loudly as he shoves the tip of his tongue inside of you without hesitation, drawing back before doing it again, his teeth grazing over your folds as he pushes his tongue deeper and deeper.

You couldn’t begin to decipher if he treated Stephanie this good, if he even cared to eat her out with as much passion as he was with you, thrusting his tongue in and out and slobbering over your tight pussy. And it wasn’t as though you cared either. If he needed you, then it was enough to show that she couldn’t even begin to chip away at the layers of satisfaction he vied for.

You let him know how good he was making you feel, gripping his hair a bit tighter and letting out pornographic moans, ones of which so passionate and raw that he almost lost himself in how perfect you sounded.

“You taste so good, darlin’,” he murmurs, sending vibrations right up your pussy. You shudder as you scoot up to the arm of the couch, pulling him back up to you, wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing your lips against his own, kissing him with all the desire pent up inside of you since the moment you first ever saw him.

He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you back onto his lap as his tongue rolls around your own, allowing you to taste your own sweetness.

“P-Please, I need you inside of me,” you whisper rashly as you pull away, rubbing yourself against his length, your folds spreading along him as you sway your hips.

“Such a needy little thing...” He smirks as his hands hold either side of your waist, his rings grazing into your skin as he lifts you, bringing you carefully back down on his cock. A mix of pain and pleasure courses through you as you feel your walls tearing to make room for his girth.

“Fuck,” you gasp as he brings you down all the way, his cock buried inside of you now. You rest your hands on his shoulders, taking a moment to gather yourself as he trails kisses along your jaw and neck.

“My pretty little gal,” he whispers, fondly snaking his arms around your waist, holding you against his chest as you subtly circle your hips.

“I-I’m not yours,” you reply, your voice just above a whisper as you nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck. “She is.” You can feel him tense up, though he doesn’t loosen the embrace he holds you in.

“I’m gonna figure this out,” he reassures, his nose brushing against your cheek as you speaks to you closely, every word right in your ear as they belong to you only.

You lift your hips, beginning to ride him as your thighs straddled either side of his waist. He adjusts again, holding you close with one arm as he rested a hand on the cushion, making it easier for him to maintain balance as he bucked his hips up into your tight hole. You moved with him, rolling your hips into his, circling them, lifting them, dropping them— doing anything to continue expelling the deep grouses and moans from his lips.

He sounded so perfect; like everything you’ve ever wanted.

You yelp as you feel his thrusts getting sharper and stronger, eventually being shoved back against the cushions as he clambers on top of you. Your legs spread further for him, and you could care less for the pain in your inner thighs as he hammered himself into you.

In a moment like this, you’re able to get a better look at him. You watch as sweat glistens off his chest and abs, his hair darkening with the perspiration that’d soaked it, and his eyes hooded with carnality. You feel yourself getting closer, wishing to hang onto the moment. His hands move from your hips and up into his own hair, stilling himself and allowing you to writhe yourself against him, slowly enough to examine the way his big cock disappeared into your pussy.

Axl smirked as he looked down at you, adoring you and your actions. “Take your time, baby,” he murmurs. “I’m getting close, too.”

You blush as you pull away completely, seeing his tip already bubbling with his cum, letting him enter you again, almost instinctively recognizing the warmth inside of you to be of his own essence.

“Axl...” you whimper, feeling closer as he twitches inside of you.

“Cum around me, baby,” he tells you, his final order as he lowers himself on top of you, kissing your lips hungrily.

And you don’t hesitate, instantly feeling warmth contriving in your lower stomach, your pussy throbbing harder than ever as your walls close in on him. It doesn’t take long before you feel his own cum spilling into you, his body weakly collapsing on top of you.

You two remain there for another hour or so, your legs wrapped around his waist, his cheek pressed against your chest as he listens to your heartbeat. You’ve never been in such an intimate moment, and never did you anticipate having him even wish to stay clinging to you after all that’d just gone down.

“Was it love, or was it just sex, Axl?” You whisper, your fingers brushing through his strawberry hair. He smiles against your chest, perhaps because your heartbeat has quickened significantly, or was he just that infatuated?

“It was everything to me, love.”

“And what about her?” You frown as you remember Stephanie, feeling a bit of shame broiling in your stomach.

“She doesn’t matter, Y/N,” Axl tells you, looking up at you. “She can’t matter compared to you.”

“But you’re with her—”

“I’m gonna end it,” he interrupts hastily. “I don’t want to miss feeling like I matter because I chose to spend time with someone who could care less about me.”

You sigh as you look at him, your thumb brushing against the height of his cheekbone. “You do matter.”

He smiles as he rises up, kissing your lips softly. “And thanks to you, it’s not some facade. It’s a reality.”