#the nonsense people get up to in the ask box is insane

[hellsite-detective]

Heyy miss Detective, I just got some news and wanted to ask if-

*sees the chaos that happened*

... what the f-

i have absolutely no clue what is happening in my office it’s become a mad house!

either way, i won’t let it get in the way of my work. but i must admit it is quite concerning

[lemotmo]

Ask box opened! I wanted to copy the question because I think it's a good indicator as to a lot of that fandoms thinking but it was way too long. Basically they were asking about chemistry differences between O/L and O/R. And what the show wants being different from what Oliver and Ryan want. Anyway, enjoy!

A. Hello anon, haha I know, we will see how long I last with it open. There were several parts to your question so I will try to hit everything but forgive me if I don't. First of all the show already tried less Buddie and it backfired spectacularly on them. The beginning of season 6 was very minimal for Buddie scenes, by far the fewest they've had. And the audience hated it. Complained loudly and often about it. It's what I mean when I say they are an audience favorite. That's not an exaggeration. The audience complained after every single episode. The ratings went down. They're a real thing. They have many, many fans that are not part of Tumblr/Twitter fandom. Less Buddie is not an option for the show and the show knows that. Tim definitely knows that. It's why he doubled down on them this season. It's why ABC used them as basically the entire marketing campaign for the entire season and every episode. And look at the results. 911 is the network's number one show. 911 is number one in their timeslot against every other network. Those are unarguable facts. Kristen was well aware of all of this as well, btw, but she's an incompetent brat who used separating them as part of her temper tantrum throwing that was season 6 as a whole. And why she absolutely should no longer have a job anywhere near the show. She purposely hurt the show by actively going against what she knew the audience wanted. Knowing it would hurt the show and doing it anyway should have absolutely gotten her fired (sorry for my mini rant, lol, but I hate her).

I don't know anyone who is saying they hate Lou because he doesn't have the same chemistry with Oliver that Ryan does. That's not what people are saying. Chemistry is tricky. It's either there or it's not. Yes, sometimes when it doesn't exist naturally it can be manufactured, but that's difficult to do, and, no offense to you, Lou's not a good enough actor to pull off manufactured chemistry (it's fine he admitted himself action is his preferred thing). And frankly the show isn't invested in Tommy enough to help him learn how to do it. But what's insane is that somewhere along the way anyone pointing out that their chemistry is off a bit somehow meant you all had the right to blame Ryan for that. That Ryan, along with Oliver were somehow sabotaging Lou. Listen when I say, there are several voices, loud voices in your fandom you all have got to stop taking direction from. The nonsense of going from ask box to ask box pointing out that Oliver and Ryan had a falling out at one point was childish. Yes, Ryan said a stupid, hurtful, ignorant thing and was, rightly, called out for it. But he publicly owned the mistake. He worked on himself, got out of a particular relationship, and seems to be a better person for it. That's called human growth. It's what you should want someone to do. He and Oliver made up. They're friends. They don't owe you an apology or explanation for that. Also, sorry to point this out, but Oliver basically has the man tattooed on his body (gunshot arc crawling rescue). They're close. Get over it. Oliver and Lou aren't required to be friends. It's fine. You don't need to belittle other friendships to make you feel better about that.

Asking if Oliver and Ryan have maybe backed the show into a corner they don't appreciate is I think deliberately naive. Yes I think by now it's pretty obvious what direction they think things should be going. And yes, I think their natural chemistry adds to the scenes, but scripts come with stage directions. They're told how close to stand. They're told what the mood of the scene should be. Now I do think Oliver and Ryan probably add their own spin on certain things, but not enough to change whatever the meaning of the scene is intended to be. For instance I think the thumb to the neck with the gentle rub is one hundred percent an Oliver and Ryan addition. It's been in too many scenes now, and no way in hell is a writer like Kristen capable of coming up with a touch like that, and working it into her scripts. So I think that's their thing. But again it doesn't change a scene overall, it's just their addition to the scene. The show knows what it's doing. If the way Oliver and Ryan were acting was not what they wanted they wouldn't use the scene. They would make them redo it in a different way. It's that simple. And the show is definitely not showing signs of doubling down on Tommy. I have no idea where you all are getting this. If the show meant for the audience to root for Tommy as far as Buck goes, they would not have released that deleted scene. That clip did Tommy zero favors. And your fandoms reaction to that clip proves how poorly he came across in it. You all just can't decide who to blame for it. My favorite are the ones blaming Aisha. I mean there's twisting yourself into knots to not acknowledge the writing meant for it to come across as a bad look, and then there's whatever the hell you have to do to arrive at it's Aisha's fault. I'm going to say something and I genuinely don't want it to come across as mean because I never want to purposely hurt anyone's feelings. The reality is if Buddie goes canon 95% of your fandom will become, or revert back to, Buddie shippers. That's the basic truth. The chemistry is there. The history is there. The two actors the show cares about are there. The majority of their audience is there. The hard-line remaining 5% are the hardcore Lou shippers, and, again not to sound mean, the show doesn't care about that 5%. The true numbers size of your fandom, when you take out repeat comments from the same blogs and duplicate accounts from the same people, seems to be in the mid thousands. That is tiny. That's not even enough to move a neilson rating. It just feels bigger on here because you're all on Tumblr, but many of you have admitted that you run multiple accounts so even mid thousands may be too generous a guestimation. And the majority of the fandom would be soft shippers, meaning they'll follow the relationship that is canon. The hard liners are Lou shippers and the show doesn't care about Lou shippers. I'm sorry anon but unless the show does something in CANON to show a shift somewhere Tommy is a plot point. I'm not going to pretend he's anything else.

Well...

I have just one thing to add here:

Thank you for putting this in my ask box Nonny. It's appreciated!

Remember, no hate in comments or reblogs. Let's keep it civil and respectful. Thank you.

If you are interested in more of the anonymous OP’s posts, you can find all of their posts so far under the tag: anonymous blog I love.

[lnfours]

nonsense | t.h

summary -> inspired by ‘nonsense’ by sabrina carpenter. dedicated to @darling-im-wonderstruck and @kate-bishopss <3

au -> tom holland x singer!reader

wc -> 1.6k

warnings -> unedited, fluff, tom being bf material, a little bit of language and sexual innuendos

masterlist | listen

                        ─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

you sighed softly as you sat in the interview chair, tapping your fingers against your leg as your hairstylist and makeup artist applied some last minute touches before the camera turned on.

your new single had been on top charts for the past couple months, your album was coming out in a few short weeks, a tour was on the agenda for later this year. everything felt like it was finally slotting into place.

your fans had shown an insane amount of support from the number of streams and pre-saves for your new music, everything career wise made you feel on top of the world.

personal life wise, not so much.

you had met tom awhile back, the two of you had instantly connected while he was filming the latest spider-man movie. you two had gone out on a couple dates, hooked up a few times, the usual.

he checked all the boxes. he was caring and sweet, he made you feel like a queen, and he made sure you knew just how special you were to him.

however, whenever he was around, you felt knots in your stomach. the nervousness would set in whenever he was near. whenever you talk, you’d feel like you were speaking nonsense. all the nervousness is what kept you from jumping into something with him, but he was adamant about waiting for you. he didn’t want anyone else but you.

he didn’t care if it made him sound desperate, didn’t care about the girls in his dms or the ones who would text him and ask if he was seeing anyone. he only wanted you.

the camera started rolling and the interviewer introduced herself, smiling to the camera before introducing you. you smiled and thanked her for having you on before she asked her first question.

“so, ‘nonsense’ has been a huge hit,” she started, “you sing some very, risqué, lyrics, while also talking about how this certain someone makes you feel. did you pull inspiration from real life to write this?”

you nodded, “yeah, i did. i mean, you know that feeling you get when you talk to your crush? the kind of feeling that makes your insides melt? that's kind of how i feel with this person, every time.”

she smiled, “do they know they make you feel that way?”

you nodded, letting out a soft chuckle, “they do, yeah.”

she continued with the next question, “so, fans have speculated that the song is about tom holland, and you guys have been spotted out and about over the past couple months. are they right?”

you shook your head, palms sweating as you thought out your answer, “they’re all so creative with their speculations, but no, it’s not. tom and i are just friends.”

she tilted her head, “really? i mean, so many people have put compilations together of the two of you together and it seems like there’s some real chemistry brewing there.”

you smiled politely, “yeah, no. he’s really sweet, but we’re just friends.”

you felt the knots in your stomach again as you talked about him. just the thought of him made your stomach erupt in butterflies, how were you supposed to be together?

the interview was over after some more questions about the album and tour. you walked back to the dressing room, grabbing your things. as you scrolled through the missed texts on your phone, only one stood out to you the most.

tom: you were great ❤️

you smiled softly, going to reply, but your thought were interrupted when your manager walked in the door.

“the cars here,” she smiled, “ready?”

you tucked your phone back into your purse, “yeah,”

you walked outside of the building, saying hi and greeting some fans who waited outside. you took pictures, signed autographs, but the only thing on your mind was that text.

you pulled your phone back out as you got into the car, the driver heading back to your apartment building.

y/n: thank you ❤️

your fingers hovered over the keyboard, contemplating sending what you were thinking. you didn't understand why you were so nervous around him, why everything he did made your heart race or why he made your tongue go numb like all of a sudden you’re speaking gibberish.

none of it made sense, but then again, did it really have to? wasn’t the whole point of falling in love with someone about risks and growing together?

it was, right?

wanna get dinner tonight?

you locked your phone as soon as the ‘read’ popped up at the bottom of your message. you nervously bounced your leg, trying to fight back the urge to say ‘never mind’ as you watched the city life outside the dark tinted window.

your phone buzzed twice in your hand and you hesitated before looking down at the message on your lockscreen.

thought you’d never ask

meet at your place around 7?

you smiled down at your phone, your manager looking over at you as she spoke up, “nice job dodging those questions about tom earlier. i know how important your private life is, we want to keep it that way.”

you nodded, typing back your response before looking back at her. desperately trying to steady your heartbeat.

sounds good, spider-boy ❤️

“yeah,” you sighed, “i mean its not like i completely lied to them. we are just friends.”

“friends who hook up and get dinner on sunset?” she asked with a raised eyebrow. you sighed as she giggled, “i mean, i know there’s something brewing, anyone with eyes does, but why wait?”

you shrugged, “he just makes me nervous, almost like he’s too good to be true.”

“for as long as i’ve known you, if anyone deserves the ‘it’s too good to be true’, it’s you.”

you nodded, a soft smile on your face as the driver pulled up in front of your apartment building. you said your goodbyes, heading into the building and making your way into the elevator. you sighed, pressing the button for your floor.

maybe she was right. she almost always was.

the next few hours felt like the longest ever as you got ready. your hair was still styled almost perfectly from before, you touched up your makeup, and slipped on one of your favorite dresses. you felt good, and you looked good.

you were in the bathroom, applying some lip gloss in the mirror when you heard the knock on the door. you ruffled your hair one last time before making your way down the stairs and to the door, the clicking of your heels echoing throughout the penthouse.

you opened the door, smiling as tom stood in a dress shirt and dress pants. his sunglasses pushed back the curls that would normally fall in front of his forehead.

he looked so damn good.

he could say the same about you, though. his eyes traveled down your body as soon as you opened the door. he smiled as he handed you the bouquet of flowers from his grasp.

you thanked him and let him inside. he closed the door behind him and followed you into the kitchen where you were adding the new bouquet to the vase on the island.

“you look gorgeous, love,” he smiled as he took your hand. you laughed as he spun you around in a small circle, pulling you into his chest.

the smell of his cologne was embedded in your brain. after many nights of rolling over and smelling it on the pillows on the other side of your bed, or on one of the blankets on the couch he claimed was his, it smelled familiar. the feeling it gave you almost felt like home.

“so do you,” you grinned, “where are you taking me tonight, holland?”

“mm,” he hummed, “i booked a reservation for that italian place you like.”

you felt your heartbeat quicken as his nose brushed up against yours, “the key to my heart.”

he laughed softly, “seems you figured out what the key to mine is.”

you sent him a questioning look, “what’s that?”

“writing a song about me,” he smiled, “or, as you say, ‘about you and me’.”

you let out a chuckle, “you listened to it?”

“of course,” he playfully rolled his eyes, “it’s an honor to have a pop hit written about me, y’know.”

you hit his arm playfully, “stop.”

“stop what?”

“being so,” you trailed off for a second, “perfect.”

“you deserve nothing less, y/n.”

you felt the heat rise to your cheeks, and if he wasn’t holding you by the waist, you probably would’ve toppled over.

“you just make me so nervous,” you breathed out, “i’ve never felt this way about anyone else before.”

he smiled, “me either,” you returned the smile, “i know i’ve said it before, but i want it all with you. all the nervous jitters, the pillow talks, the dancing in the kitchen, all of it.”

in that moment, you put your nerves aside and let yourself give in.

“i want it all with you, too,” you mumbled, leaning closer to his lips. he smiled against yours as he kissed you sweetly, the both of you pulling away and erupting into soft chuckles.

your laugh grew louder when he picked you up, ignoring your protesting as he started up the stairs to your bedroom.

“what about our dinner reservation?” you laughed, fingers hooking into the waistband of his pants.

“you asked how quickly i can take my clothes off,” he said as he laid you down on your bed, “and there’s only one way to find out, love.”

                        ─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

💌 beings my tagged list has gotten so long that tumblr literally won't let me add it, the tagged list is temporarily closed until i can figure it out. in the meantime, be sure to follow and turn on notifications for @toms-gf to be notified whenever i post imagines :)

xoxo,

jordan <3

[seiya-starsniper]

Six Degrees of Separation - Ch 4 (Sandman x Dead Boy Detectives)

Relationships: Dream of the Endless | Morpheus/Hob Gadling, Edwin Paine | Edwin Payne/Charles Rowland, Crystal Palace/Charles Rowland (DCU), Johanna Constantine/Jenny Green Rating: Teen & Up | Status: Incomplete | Chapters 4/6 | Words: 7.3K

Tags: POV Multiple, Hob Gadling gives live advice to a bunch of teenagers, while helping them solve cases, that's it that's the fic, also he maybe plays matchmaker for his hot mess bestie, fic starts out as crystal/charles and ends with charles/edwin, Mutual Pining, Slice of Life, Hob Gadling adopts the Dead Boy Detectives

Summary:

The Dead Boy Detectives run into a familiar pub while out on a case, and Crystal has to contend with an unfortunate event from her past. Hob Gadling wasn't planning on adopting three teenagers and a full grown woman, but stranger things have happened in his long centuries of life.

Tumblr Posts: Chapter 1 || Chapter 2 || Chapter 3

Read Chapter 4 below, or at the above link on AO3

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

“Jenny, can you help me with these boxes?” Hob calls out to the kitchen as his supplier finishes unloading their cargo from the delivery truck. It’s early, and only the two of them are at the Inn at present. Hob had told Jenny that she didn’t need to come in the mornings when she’d first started, but the former butcher had wandered in anyways on her first week, claiming she needed to do something with her jet lag or she’d go insane. 

Almost two months later, Jenny’s still on the morning shift most days and Hob’s grateful for it, honestly. Having run her own place back in the states means she’s efficient, and doesn’t take any nonsense when suppliers are late or trying to argue with him. She’s also great for commiserating with, whether it’s about customer service or really annoying supernatural occurrences. Like the poltergeist in her apartment that the boys had to exorcise the week before. 

When they’re done unloading everything, Hob stays back in the kitchen to put everything away, while Jenny gets ready for opening. There’s not usually a lot of people right at opening, except on Sundays, when all the hungover university students are craving brunch, so Hob’s not worried about leaving Jenny alone out there while he preps in the back. 

When he finally emerges a little after 1:00pm, right when the lunch rush starts to pick up, one of his newer regulars is chatting happily with Jenny, and he can tell by her body language that she seems utterly charmed by the American. 

“She seems nice,” Hob teases his newest employee later. “Pretty too.”

“Yeah I’m not—really into blondes,” Jenny replies, and something about the caginess in her voice tells Hob that there’s a story behind that. He’s not sure if it’s related to how she ended up with the Dead Boy Detective Agency or not, but he makes a note to ask Edwin about it later. He was coming by later to look at Hob’s tomes again to see if there was a spell in there that could help with their latest case.   

“Ah well, plenty of fish in the sea,” Hob says easily. “Especially when you go from living in a small town in America to great old London. How are you adjusting, by the way?”

Jenny happily accepts the subject change and takes the opportunity to complain about her flat. The boys had exorcised the poltergeist, but not before it had flung nearly all of her belongings about the entire place, and put a few holes she’d have to fix before her landlord noticed. Hob had offered to help her find a new place while the whole incident was occurring, but Jenny had been stubborn and refused to move. Still is refusing to move, in fact.

Godspeed to her, Hob thinks. Hopefully another ghost won’t move in.

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

“Niko attempted to play matchmaker with Jenny by arranging her to meet with her secret admirer,” Edwin tells him later that afternoon as he peruses the pages of one of Hob’s, or rather Mad Hettie’s, cursebreaker books. “Unfortunately, Maxine also revealed herself to be Jenny’s stalker, and when she saw that made Jenny uncomfortable, tried to kill her.”

“Oh bloody hell,” Hob says, nearly choking on his tea. “Yeah, I’d swear off dating for a while too.”

“Indeed,” Edwin says, flipping through the pages of a particularly heavy looking volume. “Relationships seem so much more…complicated in this day and age,” Edwin notes casually. Hob studies him for a moment, wondering if Edwin had come to talk to him about something that wasn’t quite related to his work.

“They are,” Hob agrees, taking another sip of his tea. “But there’s a lot more freedom too. You can choose who you love now, regardless of status, race, religion or…gender,” he adds, carefully studying Edwin’s face for some sort of reaction.

“Ah ha! Found it,” Edwin exclaims, either completely ignoring Hob’s comment, or too caught up in his discovery to notice what the immortal had said. He looks up at Hob and smiles. “Do you mind if I borrow this for our case? I promise to bring it back unharmed.”

“Go ahead,” Hob nods, waving casually. Edwin snaps the book shut and heads towards the door of Hob’s flat, then abruptly stops. Something tenses in the boy’s shoulders and Hob thinks he can guess what it is Edwin wants to ask him. 

“Mr Gadling?” Edwin asks, turning back around to face him.

“Hob,” Hob corrects him. “What is it? Did you need something else?”

“No I—this is a more—personal question, if you wouldn’t mind,” Edwin says, his tone now shy instead of confident like it had been moments before. 

“All right,” Hob says, shrugging and trying to look as non-threatening as possible. “What is it?”

Edwin’s face goes through a multitude of emotions before the boy finally seems to find the words he’s looking for.

“How long have you known your proclivities tended towards men as well as women?” Edwin asks, and the bluntness of the question causes Hob to choke on his biscuit. He coughs violently into his sleeve, which catches most of the small crumbs he manages to dislodge from his throat. When he looks up next, Edwin is staring curiously at him, arms wrapped around the book he’d decided to borrow, waiting for Hob to answer his question.

“Uhhhh…” Hob coughs again, then gulps down the rest of his tea, dislodging the last of the offending biscuit. “I guess since the 14th or 15th century?” he says uncertainly, flailing about as he tries to recall the first time he’d ever fancied a man. “I know when you were alive there was all this—” he gestures vaguely, “nonsense around homosexuality, but well—things weren’t always like that. So I guess I’ve known for. A while,” he finishes somewhat lamely.

Edwin sighs, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth. He looks like he wants to follow up on his question, but doesn’t seem to know how.

“Something you want to talk about?” Hob asks after a brief silence. Edwin sighs again, then steps back towards the living room, and Hob makes a mental note to make more tea for this longer conversation. 

“It was brought to my attention recently that I am in love with my best friend,” Edwin says, still as straightforward as ever. “But I assume you already knew that.”

Hob shrugs helplessly, not willing to confirm or deny his conversation with Charles. Edwin seems to understand the gesture immediately though. 

“I don’t require the details of your conversations with Charles,” Edwin follows up. “However, I suppose I am seeking some—commiseration. For a broken heart.”

“Well, you’ve come to the right spot,” Hob says with a soft smile. “I know a thing or two about unrequited love with your best friend and all that.”

Edwin tilts his head curiously. “You are speaking of your patron? Death’s brother?”

Hob chokes again, this time only on air.

“Why,” Hob groans, burying his face in his hands, “Does everyone seem to know this?!”

“I am a detective,” Edwin replies, deadpan. “However, you are also extremely obvious in your affections. Perhaps more so than Charles is about Crystal, and that is a feat, I assure you,” he adds, rolling his eyes.

Before Hob can retort that he is very much not obvious, and that Edwin himself is oblivious to just how affectionate Charles is about him, there’s a loud rapping at the front door, which causes both Hob and Edwin to jolt in surprise.

“Oy, Hobsie! Open up, I need your help with something!” a female voice yells from the other side of his door. Hob sighs, knowing the source of the voice all too well, and then reluctantly gets up from his comfortable position on the couch to answer the door.

Johanna Constantine strides in without so much as a hello, making a beeline straight for his study, but then stops suddenly, making direct eye contact with Edwin.

“Hobsie, don’t be alarmed but there’s a dead child in you flat right now,” Johanna says. “And it looks like he’s stealing one of your books.”

Edwin scoffs. “Excuse you, I am borrowing this tome, with permission, I may add.”

“Right,” Hob interjects before Johanna can get another word in. “Jo, this is Edwin, Edwin, this is Johanna Constantine,” he says gesturing between the two of them. “We’re all friends here, no one’s stealing anything.”

“Oh, a Constantine!” Edwin exclaims with delight. “How ever did you get involved with her?” he asks, turning to Hob.

“Long story, kid, but I don’t have time for that right now, I need some help with a case,” Johanna says. “Unless you’ve got any expertise on weird fish men who live in swamps and eat people.”

“Actually, I do,” Edwin says, much to the shock of both Johanna and Hob. “1974,” he adds, as if this explains everything. “I’m happy to help, and I’d love to pick your brain on an old cursed fountain pen, while we’re at it, if you wouldn’t mind.”

Johanna stares at Edwin for a moment, her eyes narrowing.

“You’re those ghost investigators or something, aren’t you?” she asks. “I’d heard of you, but I hadn't realized you were actual children.”

Edwin scoffs. “We are the Dead Boy Detectives, thank you very much, Miss Constantine,” he says. “Now would you like our help or not?”

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

A week later, Hob is questioning whether he should’ve introduced Johanna and Edwin as he hangs suspended above a supposedly haunted pond. 

“Are you sure this is safe?” Hob yells from his precarious position. 

“Don’t worry Hobsie!” Johanna yells back as she adjusts the rope to lower Hob closer to the pond. Hob swears he hears a weird growling coming from below the water’s surface. “This shouldn't be low enough to kill you, I think,” Johanna continues. “And anyways, if it is, you’ll just come back!”

“THAT DOESN’T MEAN I WANT TO DIE IN THE FIRST PLACE JO!” Hob shouts back. 

“Not to worry Mr Gadling!” Edwin pipes in. “Charles and I shall ensure your library is well guarded should you unexpectedly perish and we’ll help Jenny out the Inn. Crystal is also quite experienced at sneaking bodies out of hospitals.”

“That was one time!” Crystal exclaims indignantly.

“If you die, do I still get paid on Friday?” Jenny, who has inexplicably decided to tag along for this case, asks. “Or is there like, a 3-5 business day turnaround for resurrection?”

“You better still pay her, Hobsie!” Johanna chimes in, and Hob can see her grinning devilishly at his employee. “A girl’s gotta eat after all,” she adds with a wink towards her.

Terrible. These people were all terrible and he was going to have to die and start over with a new life. And he was going to find some new friends while he was at it too.

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

Hob doesn’t die, but he does lose a chunk of shoulder to what’s later revealed to be some half shark, half man monstrosity. At least the damage from that will be gone by tomorrow. Hopefully anyways. Even if Hob did have to cover it up, it certainly wouldn't take nearly as long to heal as a whole resurrection does.

“Jenny is romantically available, by the way,” Hob hears Edwin tell Johanna in a low voice once he's been let down and wrapped in five layers of bandages.

“Is she now?” Johanna asks, in a tone Hob knows is definitely interested. “And you’re so interested in my love life because—?” 

Edwin shrugs, and Hob catches the barest hint of a smile on his face. 

“I think you’d like each other,” is all he says, enigmatic as ever.

“Are you trying to play matchmaker to distract yourself from your own love life?” Hob asks Edwin later when the boy comes to return Hob’s book. “Because I can tell you from first hand experience it only makes you more sad when you do that.” 

Edwin hums. “It’s something Niko would’ve wanted to do,” he says. “She felt so bad after the whole thing with Maxine. But she’s no longer here, so I’ll have to do it in her memory. At least this time I can guarantee Miss Constantine is not a serial killer. The rest of her character though...I suppose she seems...pleasant?”

Hob howls with laughter. “Yeah okay, that’s fair. Need some help with your little scheme then?”

Edwin’s eyes dance with mischief and delight, and Hob’s painfully reminded of Robyn in that moment. He’s never had another child with anyone else besides Eleanor, not knowingly anyways. Being a father was far too painful when you would easily outlive your own child.

But Edwin was already dead, and would be around forever, just like Hob, so perhaps it was inevitable that Hob would love him like a son.

“Okay, so let me tell you what I know about Johanna—”

[steddieunderdogfics]

NOTE: this is for the Monday theme (challenge fics) if you’re allowing WIPs?

but the author of this one recently confided in me (!) that they aren’t letting their 2024 big bang get written without simultaneously working on REwriting what left of their 2023 big bang (which got eaten by gdocs mid-posting iirc, to the tune of something like 50k+ lost maybe? 😭) and basically it’s a sweeping soulmate AU but it ALSO has this free will factor that takes the potential “ick” out of the trope?

So if you’re okay with recs that are WIPs but only due to CIRCUMSTANCES and also are committed to being finished on a timetable that exists for ANOTHER challenge (almost like two challenges in one), then I’d propose the slow-burn/life saving soulmate power/deep deep love fic, ✨Made of Light✨ by hitlikehammers, for the fic on its own, AND also to help encourage the author to keep going with trying to write what is essentially two simultaneous big bangs (which is arguably insane)

archiveofourown.org/works/50535199/

or this tag I think if it needs to be tumblr? 

www.tumblr.com/hitlikehammers/search/steddiebang23

Made of Light by hitlikehammers

@hitlikehammers

Rating: Explicit

97,130 words, 12/15 chapters

Archive Warning: No Warnings

Tags: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Soulmates, Trope Subversion, Soulmates with Free Will, Pre-Season/Series 01, Post-Season/Series 04, True Love, Misunderstandings, (But Really: If Soulmate A is Told to Hide Their Soulmark Because It Shames The Family), (Then Keeps Doing It Because of Interdimensional Demons and the Feds and the Russians), (And Soulmate B is Taught to Love His Mark and Be Loud and Proud About It), (But Maybe Try Keeping the Gender Ambiguous Given All The Preexisting Targets on His Back Already), (Then What ARE They Expected to Have But MISUNDERSTANDINGS?!), oblivious boys, (to the nth degree though seriously; but it’s not really their faults), Near Death Experiences, Love at First Sight, (but not actually SIGHT because they both just KNOW they love their SOULMATE whoever they ARE), Slow Burn, (because that’s also 100-percent true given they don’t KNOW they’re EACH OTHER’S Soulmate for AGES), Soul Bond, Magical Realism, Sex But Make It Soulmate-esque™, As In: The Most Emotionally Charged Cosmically Connected Near-Preternaturally Romantic Sex, Intercrural Sex, Oral Sex, Happy Ending

Summary:

Soulmates are anything but de rigueur in polite society—more like foolish nonsense, fairytale child’s play: embarrassments. Inconvenient, at best. But the people who have them, and still seek them out; who believe despite the odds, who still commit to finding them and binding their souls to them despite the naysaying and the backlash? Those people know the truth. Because Soulmates? Don’t force love. Aren’t bound without choice. Are built instead on pure potential, of proportions never fathomed—and certainly never found—outside those so-called ‘old fashioned’ Bonds. They are the potential to protect love. To save love. To save the lives that kind of ineffable love holds more than just dear; the kind it holds as essential. Some people even say Soulbonds can almost change the whole world, defy the laws of physics and nature, but then—even among the believers: those stories are relegated to legend. At best. And so: this is the story of two boys from Indiana who—dodging dangers and demons and near-death experiences—wind up in a love never seen before, somehow writing out the kind of legend no one ever dared to dream.

Thanks for the rec!

This rec is a part of Challenge Monday. The challenge this week was Fics from fandom challenges.

Know a fic that deserves extra love? Submit through our asks or the submission box!

[aletterinthenameofsanity]

"Ask me anything" huh? Can I ask you to rant about stuff you love about Doctor Who for a handful of paragraphs, with the additional requirement that you cannot use correct grammar NOR can your statements be fully coherent?

Doctor Who is like 50% fun nonsense and I think commentaries on it should reflect that. No elaborate and precise statements, just pure joy unhindered by foolish concepts such as "making perfect sense".

I was waiting until I was close to going to bed to answer this because this really needs my half-asleep brain to answer properly. (Or improperly, in this case.) Now, onto as grammatically improperly as I can make this (hopefully I pulled this off. like to think I did!):

you know what i love about doctor who? i love that this show covers every single genre in the universe. that it is horror and comedy and historical fiction and sci fi and alternate history and dystopian and myths and steampunk and biopunk and murder mystery and western and fairytale because genre doesn't apply, because the doctor is a mad man in a box telling the story, except that they're not, the doctor's not the one telling the story, because this is really a story about the companions of the doctor, the people who are reflections of them, the people who become the doctor, the people who were doctors all along, the people who were kind and brave and traumatized and curious and above all, wanted to see the stars, because this is a story about the stars, about the grand expanse of space and time, about everything that ever was and ever will be, but the thing is, the mechanics of the show and how seasons are shot and that no actor can ever stay young forever, because the show is made with real people, everyone has to move on, and that's the beauty of it, isn't it? that people have to move on.

writers and actors always have to move on but with doctor who, because some genius (affectionate) in the 60s decided that regeneration would get to be a mechanic in the show we get to have an eternal canon, we get to have renewal, we get to have companions reflect back on the doctor in an infinite number of batshit insane and unhinged ways, we get to see hope and grief and a bottomless fall and an infinite rise because the doctor cannot die even though everyone around them can BUT ALSO because this show is about travelling, about running, about having the entirety of everything that has ever existed or will exist or can't exist or might exist at our fingertips.

as a result you can have episodes like midnight and partners in crime in the same season and no one will bat an eye, you can have the farting calcium invasion-of-the-body-snatchers be the monsters that propel two of the best character pieces i've ever seen in my entire life, you can have capitalism critiques involving fish poop under the thames, you can have them visit the greatest people that will ever live and the worst, you can have them inspire artists and scientists before they die and that's just as important as the aliens or saving the world, you see, because at the end of the day doctor who is about love, it's about the small moments as well as the big saves, it's about wilfred staring at the stars and amy demanding her imaginary friend show up to her wedding and harriet jones worrying about her mother and about danny admiring the fact that a student said please and about ryan and graham learning to ride a bike together and about jackie being the last person that mickey said goodbye to in journey's end, it's about love and character development and charles dickens and vincent van gogh getting to smile and laugh before they die, it's about the love, you see?

doctor who is about running as far and as fast as you can because even though you're more afraid than anyone who has ever existed you have to see them all, you have to love them all, because you have so much love you can't contain it in one heart, that's why you have two hearts, because you love so much, too much, and you will never find peace, you will never find an ending, but right here, right now, you can have this. and that will never be enough, it can't be enough, but it still matters.

because the love was there.

[lixenn]

Overview

Since I’ve come out of my introverted gremlin cave and started to actually work regularly on my writing as well as posting my stuff on here, I’ve decided to structure my blog a bit. Mostly to prevent people from getting absolutely lost in this chaotic mess.  

I will try to keep this as updated as possible but there might be a bit of a delay between me posting new content and updating this, so please keep that in mind.

General info

My Ao3 account

Tags

#just rambling Lix' daily life in a nutshell #art nook art tag #science talk science ramblings #ask answered ask tag (<- might change in the future)

Ask box

If you have questions about any of my projects or just want to randomly scream at me about any topic that comes to mind, my inbox is open. Bother me anytime!

Katekyo Hitman Reborn

The KHR discord server is now online! It's a general server for the fandom. If you want to join just drop me a DM and I'll send you the invite link.

KHR writing prompts

Prompts are open, just drop them in my inbox and I'll see what the nonsense generator can fabricate!

Prompt rules/intro

Dan and Celeste

Dan and Vlasta

The Housekeeping AU

#the housekeeping AU #khr daniele costa #khr dave #khr valerie rebner #khr vlasta gast #khr marina costa #khr cilmi #khr yves

This is me playing around in the Varia sandbox, come and join me in my weird delusions!

Witness how the Head of Varia Housekeeping (my OC) is slowly but surely driven insane by crazy Assassin bullshit, meddling assistants (aka Dave), mountains of paperwork and Mafia politics.

(Btw the concept of my Varia Housekeeping was inspired by Umei_no_Mai whose worldbuilding is absolutely Godtier. I kneel before their greatness.)

Character profiles

Chief aka Daniele

Dave

Ottavio under edit

Valerie Rebner

The Varia Housekeeping survival guide (WIP currently updating on Ao3)

When you are the overworked and underappreciated head of Varia Housekeeping who is sick and tired of cleaning up your employees’ corpses and decide to write up an instruction manual for dealing with Varia's insanity.

Detective Dave is on the case (complete on Ao3 but might add something later on)

Dave has never been able to resist a good mystery, so when one of his informants was suddenly murdered under suspicious circumstances, what else is he supposed to do other than immediately stick his nose into other people's business? ("Can you for once in your life not poke the sleeping dragon with a stick?" "But Chief! A murder mystery! Delivered right to my front door!" "..." "Hey, we are you going? Chief? Chief! I still need you to sign these forms! Come back!" )

This is my crossover with Myell's Killer Whale AU, so if you aren't familiar with her 'verse this story might be a bit confusing, I recommend checking her stuff out first a then coming back to this one. (Shamelessly advertising my Buddy's story again hehehehe)

Unnamed Sequel (in planning stage)

Unlike the Varia survival guide, this work will hopefully have plot and a coherent story line. I’m still very much in the idea finding phase, so no clue when this is going to be published.

I now have a rough outline for the story, main plot plus romance side plot (I say side plot when the romance outline is much more detailed... *silently despairs*).

Current edited chapter count: 2/?

I will keep you updated on this project via completely unhinged ramblings, so… look forward to that (and yes, that is a threat!)

Snippets

Dan and Dave's first meeting

Things Chief once said

The Couch™️

Tea time

Fanfic recs

I've decided to indulge myself and finally make a list some of my favourite KHR fanfics, feel free to check it out!

Fic recs

Naruto

How Uzushio was saved by drunken seal shenanigans (WIP kinda on hold)

The story of how Uzumaki Ren – explosion specialist, seal master and everyone’s favourite mad scientist – saves his village from destruction, revolutionizes the medical field, adopts a puppy, and gives his Kage an aneurism. Not necessarily in that order.

Note: I’ve updated this recently and I still have stuff for it prewritten (but nothing post-worthy just yet), but since KHR has overtaken all my brain space, I’ll probably won’t work on this for a while. I’m still super attached to my mad scientist baby Ren, so there will be more content! … Just in the very far future 😅

[2bu]

I looked at your ocs on toyhouse again and at some of the things youve said here about pacifica and I wondered what happened to the other boyfriend she had? Pulse? U said once he was too aggressive or smth? Just kinda curious

If this is coming from a stranger, I suppose I get the curiosity but all I'll ever say at this point is that I do not want to speak about Pacifica and her ex, Pulse, because he does not belong to me, and I have not been on speaking terms with the person who owns him for a very long time now. I have no interest in being in contact with them again.

It's not my right to speculate any further on their relationship beyond canonical facts, and even then, I do not see a reason to do so as it's been a year since their relationship has ended and both parties have moved on.

However, and this is more likely, you are someone who knows me and knows Pulse's owner. I am VERY sure of who you are because you're not very good at hiding who you are, even on anon. If this is you, Raz, you need to leave me alone and stop sending me bait asks. If it's not you but someone else, such as Pulse's owner, you STILL need to stop sending me bait asks and leave me the absolute fuck alone. Y'all are blocked for a reason.

Not even a full month into the year and y'all can't leave me alone with anything related to the previous RP group I was in!

Look - stranger or not, I am not comfortable answering these sorts of asks.

I do sincerely apologize for my tone if this is one of those rare times where you're just a stranger casually browsing my accounts and you were just curious, but given the choice of words and framing of this question, I do not believe that you are a genuinely curious stranger. I sincerely believe you are someone who I have blocked across multiple platforms continuing to stalk, harass, and bait me into answering asks like this that I have said on multiple occasions that make me upset and uncomfortable.

This is the last time I will be nice about it or acknowledge these blatant bait questions in my ask box that are designed to set me up for more stalking, harassment, and fearmongering/misinformation to be spread about a black person who has LONG since left that particular scene, cut ties, and has mass-blocked people for his own safety.

Please do not ask me about Pulse and Pacifica. Do not ask me about the previous RP group I was in or users who are in/were in it. Leave me alone. I am tired of this insane nonsense coming from people who cannot let the dead horse stay dead.

Knock it off. Don't do this to me and do not do this to the people I am no longer in contact with either.

[cheesecakezyum]

hey, hru? i just found your blog and tbh i really love it and your writing, it’s just so good! so can i request the mayor realizing that he likes the reader, and how he would confess? thanks! <3

Anyone Can Change, If They Try Hard Enough!

Ooh! Sure! We all love some unhinged old men am I right or am I right?

My hiatus has been so long simply due to some financial, family and more personal issues I’d rather not discuss publicly. Writing doesn’t pay my bills after all! Maybe I should make a Kofi or personal commissions? Most likely not— I’m just here to have fun. Anyways, I’ll be back to writing the multitude of prompts that have been given to me over my hiatus. To think that my last post had me at 150 followers, and now I’m almost at half a thousand now! I’ll try my best to make it up to you within the upcoming months as well as a Christmas special piece on Ao3! Stay tuned my lovelies <3

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♡- I wouldn’t say what he feels is love at first sight. Quite the opposite truly. You, being a known rebel against the Lady Bone Demon throughout the period of time the world was in utter disarray.

♡- He was truly and utterly devoted— in any way, shape or form; His goal was to stay by her side for the rest of eternity if granted such a gracious opportunity. Why ask for anything more?

♡- One of his duties? Taking care of the foolish mortals who dared to disobey the new world. That was where he initially met you. Someone who had daringly risked their life to let a family of four flee. You jumped in front of them! You don’t know what had happened to them after, but it didn’t matter. They had more to live for than you did in your brisk opinion

♡- As foolish as the mayor believed you to be, he did nothing but cackle and unceremoniously take his leave. It was hilarious! Why would you would risk your life for these people? It was utter nonsense!

♡- A small part of him admired your bravery, no matter how insane it seemed. The mayor was reminded of his own loyalty to his lady.

♡- The act had left him in your thoughts, so utterly long until he was ripped away from any bone demon powers he had once attained in a massive quantity. One minute he was fighting the monkey king, and the next?— forced to give out information to the very same people trying to stop their plan to rewrite the world as the simian took his very place.

♡- He was able to get away, as easy as it was when the scums just left him there. The only problem was, he had nowhere to go. Battered and bruised, the old mayor of the city would stick out like a sore thumb! There was only one option.

♡- He had to find you. Maybe because he showed you such mercy, you’d repay him with a safe place to dwell until things died down? If anything, you’d even get on your knees and kiss his shoes! Yes yes, that’s the plan.

♡- It took a few days for him to find you, but once he did? Ohhh, you certainly looked different than you did during the ‘apocalypse’. You dressed quite nicely! Formal wear similar to his! He never noticed you worked right in town hall; the place he dwelled most being undercover. Who knew?

♡- Back to your situation, you had moved to a much better area; Close but not exactly in the heart of the city you once did! Due to many losing their homes, you had opted to stay in a friends condo she had for rent, which was practically spotless! It was way better than the now ashes of your former home. You finished up settling the last of your boxes in the living room before hearing a clean three knocks at the door.

♡- You didn’t like who you saw. Not one bit. It was the mayor of the city, monster, the very same one who threatened to obliterate a family simply asking for mercy? He looked like an utter mess.

“Well hello there ci!—“

You had shut the door before you could hear any more. Had he been stalking you? What was his reason for such an intrusion.

You heard his muffled voice on the other side, but instead chose to preoccupy yourself with better things than an old, no— ancient man outside your door. You weren’t a young hot shot either! Being in your late 30s has proved to you that you were simply gaining maturity.

Something was just, off about him.

♡- By evening, you had realized that he was still at the door— waiting with his usual eerie smile. What had even happened to him for someone with such power to come here? If he really was a threat— destroying your home would’ve been a piece of cake.

♡- You made stew, and what you didn’t expect was your body to move for you.

The man was no longer waiting by the door, instead seated in a gentlemanly manner alongside your exterior walls, you had lifted a hand. What were you doing?

“Hey….are you hungry?”

He looked up at you, the very first time you didn’t see his face with forced glee.

♡- Maybe you did have a death wish.

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I have the horrible ability to turn simple prompts into ideas for full pieces of work. Anywayssss, thx for reading!!

[vacantgodling]

I have a burning question for you. One we all need answers to (only if you want to feel free to let this ask rot in your askbox for eternity you have my permission.)

is donut wip alive

KAT!!! i’m happy to see ya :’)

technically speaking donut wip & the entirety of the liminal space series as a whole are still alive! (i’m not a huge fan of killing off my wips i usually just shelve them indefinitely until i circle back to the idea) — couple of reasons it’s shelved rn tho

1. paramour brainrot >>>>>>>> like seriously this wip has made me insane idk what magical combination of tropes and ideas i managed to spark like 2 years ago but i have never been this abnormal about a wip ever i think lol. so a lot of my wips have been sidelined in favor of my Child.

2. i got Super Stuck. not just regular stuck where you get writers block for a bit then move on no, i mean Super Stuck as in i was stuck on donut wip chapter 15 i think for like a year and a half before i finally said “i cannot force myself to write more in this draft i have to take a break” so i stepped back from it and the series in general to figure out what was going on with me and my brain. and i think really what it came down to is at that time it wasn’t fun for me to write? it felt very much like a chore—despite all of its horror it seemed “safer” to write. it was the thing people were expecting out of me and i felt like i was writing more to fulfill expectations than to actually write this story because i enjoy it. AND I DO ENJOY IT!! that’s the crazy thing. i really like this story and the nuance i allowed to grow into it when it literally started as me being “fuck it write a horror novel just to finish something and don’t care about the characters” but i care about them so much now etc etc.

but because i don’t do well when i feel forced it just sucked the joy out of it for me. paramour in comparison, has never felt forced. it’s always exciting and stimulating to my brain because it is a wip that is so very Me all over it. and i wanted donut wip to have that same feel but i gotta give it more time. maybe i’ll try doing the outline to writing method that i’ve been doing and working for paramour so i can avoid getting stuck again.

however, i did actually rewrite donut wip’s chapter 1 proper back in may of this year—i wanted to see if i could come back to it and make myself write it Forreal and i could! i did! and i’m really happy with it! which is exciting! and as a treat you (and anyone else who reads this full nonsense ramble or remembers donut wip from eons ago) can read that revamped first chapter—first official piece of donut wip writing i’ve ever really posted. just cuz like tbh it means a lot to me that you care about that story weh ;3; and remember—

so without any more waffling: here is chapter one, uncensored from spoilers so u get drawn into the mystery 👀

Chapter One

I groaned when my guitar string snapped again for the third time today, the discordant twang echoing in my large dorm, up to the rafters. I heard Andres laugh from Tiffany’s bed.

“Oh yeah, making faces at it will help.”

“Fuck off.” I stuck my tongue out at him. “Toss me…” I waggled my pointer finger towards a stack of boxes between Tiffany’s bed and my desk. Opened and dangerously leaning was a box of replacement guitar strings, near empty and I’d only bought them a few months ago. “… Those.” Andres didn’t move though. I groaned again.

“Andre!” I snapped my finger and my voice at him. “Strings!”

“I’m not a dog. Besides, you’ve been at this for three hours. When are you finally gonna give up for the day and spend some time with your bestie?” He put emphasis on the word, but the trill of his voice was playful. “Hmm. I have been buggin‘ on this part a bit.” I pretended to think, tapping my thumb against my cheek. He seemed hopeful. I caved and laughed aloud. “Later!” I giggled at his groan. “I wanna make sure this melody’s flowin’ right before I break. Then we can play Spyro or whatever else ya wanna do.” Seeing as he couldn’t be bothered to give me my strings, I got up myself and toed my way through the mess that was steadily building up on the floor between the beds. I snatched up the box before Andres could knock it over with his outstretched foot.

“Oh, you watch it mister.”

“Sooooory.” He dragged out, but his grin told me he wasn’t sorry. I flipped him off, then flopped back down on my bed, quickly setting to work on restringing. More of them had begun snapping lately as I composed, but I chalked it up to stress. Finals wore me down this semester, more than they had in our first year, but it was bittersweet that they were over now. This year went by so fast, it’s like I blinked and it was December again. Beside me on the bed my bright yellow phone buzzed.

“Who’s that?” Andres asked. I flipped it open to look at the message.

from: vivi

Are you sure you want to stay for winter break?

from: vivi

Dad wanted me to ask again.

I tossed my phone back on the bed.

“Just my sister!” I said cheerfully. “Doing dad’s errands again. I told him I didn’t want to deal with him and Miss Borsche.” I wrinkled my nose. “He’s been buggin’ her to get me to come with them since I told him no.”

“Come with them… where?”

“Oh usually dad goes on some sorta cruise or vacation for the holidays. But, he never invites Vi. So I never go.”

“Why doesn’t he invite her?” The question was posed nonchalantly, and I looked over at Andres, who was looking down at his smartphone.

I’d venture to say that we’d become near best friends now after the past year and a half of knowing each other, yet there was still a lot we didn’t know about each other. I knew he had siblings, but not their names, and he knew about Juvia, but not anything more than that. I knew his family wasn’t rich but they worked extra to push him through school. He knew that mine was, but I had loans out the ass. We played guessing games every now and again—to get to know each other. But whenever there was some real-life line we went to cross in our blossoming friendship, he was always open and I always hesitated. It’s just how it were.

“She…” I tilted my head back and forth a bit. “It’s a bit complicated, I reckon.”

“Then take your time telling me. I’m not rushing you.” Our eyes caught, and he gave me a tiny smile that I couldn’t not return back. But things fell quiet after that, and I turned back to my strings.

Winter break was here, and the freedom that came with it curled around our slowly emptying building like the fresh blanket of snow that dusted our sleepy little college town. On the telly earlier, there were talks about a blizzard rolling in sometime between today and tomorrow. The snow for now was peaceful, and inviting. It crowned even my windowsill when I woke up this morning, and even if I wasn’t with Juvia in person, the holiday buzz still felt strong in the air.

A rap on the door drew me out of my thoughts.

”It’s open!” I called. The handle clicked then pushed open a crack, just enough for someone to poke their head in.

“Kelley.” Andres acknowledged the second I breathed out “Joaquin!” Our R.A regarded us with a lazy smile, and my eyes traced the curve of his handsome mouth. A flush of heat shivered through my body, and I darted my eyes away when they met mine.

“How are you two holding up here? Your folks coming soon?”

“Negativo.” Andres leaned back on Tiffany’s pillow, stretching one leg out into the air. I heard something pop and I made a face. “They’re back home and I don’t have enough money for a plane ticket there. So I’m staying.” Joaquin nodded easily, then he turned to me again. “Julissa?”

“Just Juls is okay!” I said quickly. I coughed. “Um, no, I’m also staying. If that’s alright?”

“No rules against it.” Joaquin flashed me a smile. “I was checking to see who’s still going to be here so I can send a final count to the director.”

“Is it just gonna be us?” Andres asked.

“No, there’s,” Joaquin paused to pop open the door a little further, and leaned against the wall. He counted on his fingers. “The three of us. Then, Daisy Kennedy, on the third floor. René Edwards, down the hall and….” He looked up at the ceiling, trying to remember. “Ah, Saul…Carson, I believe. Top floor.”

“Didn’t know you had someone named Saul on your floor.” I said, looking over to Andres. He snorted. “Me either. Aside from my roommates, I only really talk to you Juls.”

“You’re such a loner.” I teased, as though I was any better. Andres chucked Tiffany’s pillow at me.

“Hey!”

“Actually Kelley?” Andres started. I threw the pillow back and nailed him in the torso, making him choke on his next words. Joaquin’s quiet huff of a laugh distracted me for two seconds—enough for me to let my guard down. Andres jumped from Tiffany’s bed to mine and grabbed me in a headlock.

“Andre!” I shrieked, but he was merciless. His freehand dug into my side and began to tickle at my sides. It wasn’t long before I was howling with laughter, trying to desperately shove him off me. Amused, Joaquin waited patiently with his arms folded loosely over his chest.

Andres finally relented and let me go and I kicked his shin for good measure. “God, I can’t breathe.” I wheezed. Andres laughed jovially, then turned back to Joaquin. “I was going to ask if we had to stay in our dorms while we were here?”

“Well,” He looked between Andres and I, raising an eyebrow. “I don’t think you need my permission, you’re both adults.” I felt heat swarm my dark cheeks and next to me Andres sputtered. “It’s nothing like that!” He snapped. “I just mean, I got a leak in my room and Juls offered to let me crash here. I just don’t know if the break protocol is different than during the school year.”

“A leak?” Joaquin frowned, reaching for his phone. It was similar to Andres’s, clear and sleek. He tapped a few buttons. “From the roof?”

“Yeah. I woke up this morning to snow dripping down my face.” Andres shrugged. “I don’t know how long the leak has been there, it’s been pretty dry this year. But I don’t want to deal with it, it’s literally right above my bed.”

“Like I said, you don’t really need my permission to stay wherever you’d like. But thanks for telling me, I just scheduled a maintenance request.” Joaquin tucked his phone back into his tight jeans. “Should be a few days but it should be fixed.”

“If it wasn’t snowing, I’d get up there and do it myself.” I hit Andres with my hand lightly. “That’s dangerous.”

“Wouldn’t want you falling off.” Joaquin hummed. “Now that I would be held responsible for.”

“Are you staying too, Joaquin?” I asked. Andres elbowed me. “He just said that. Earth to Juls, get your mind out of the gutter.”

“It wasn’t there in the— Oh, I hate you!” Andres and I began squabbling again and from the door Joaquin laughed. “I’ll leave you all to it!”

“Thanks for coming by!” I called after him as he moved from the doorway. Before I turned fully back to Andres, from the corner of my eye, I saw… something follow after Joaquin. I couldn’t get a good enough look at it, but what I did see looked like a cream colored tail.

[onbearfeet]

A puzzle for the Tumblr sleuths

So today (6/29/2023) I was handed this piece of paper and asked if I could read the penciled writing on the second page.

I can't. And it turns out to be a bit of a mystery.

So, context. The ink handwriting belongs to my paternal grandfather, who developed a very specific hand as a finance officer for the US Army. I can read that easily enough. It seems to be the lyrics for a hymn (the "city four-square" is presumably heaven) ... but it's not any hymn I've ever heard, nor one my dad could find in his giant internet hymn index (yeah, that's a thing). Originally we thought he'd written down the lyrics so he could sing them in church, but now it's looking more like he ... wrote his own hymn? He wasn't known to write music, but he was a deeply religious man who taught Sunday School for decades, so maybe? Weird that none of us ever heard about it, though.

(And hey, hi, before you dunk on the guy for his religiosity, this is the grandfather who made sure, after his son married a half-Jewish woman, that his very Jewish-looking granddaughter knew all about the Holocaust and that Nazis are to be FUCKED UP AT THE FIRST OPPORTUNITY, do not pass go, do not collect 200 Nazi dollars, especiallyif they were going after Jews. He's why I started that riot in the third grade. He also considered participating in the desegregation of the Army to be one of the greatest honors of his life. The man wasn't perfect, but for a dude born in 1918, he was TRYING. I get religious trauma, I HAVE religious trauma, but Granddad generally tried to be one of the less shitty ones.)

More context. This piece of paper was found in a box of old family photos and documents that Dad's sister sent us with the explanation that "your baby pictures are in there". Some of the images Dad recognizes; some contain people and places that ring absolutely no bells. (It happens when you're an Army brat raised all over the world, 70-odd years ago. He doesn't have any particular memory problems, but nobody remembers everything after 70 years.)

The pencil handwriting is NOT Granddad's, nor Grandma's. Dysgraphia kinda runs in the family, though, so it could be a relative. The only candidate we could think of was Granddad's sister, Alice, from whom we have no handwriting samples, but Granddad and Alice didn't get along AT ALL and I don't know why she'd have been writing on his piece of paper. They were hardly ever in the same physical space after about 1940.

Additional context: Granddad was in the Army from 1940 to 1960 and moved around A LOT, so very few things got kept from pre-1960. Thus, either this paper is post-1960, or it was really important, or both. Granddad died in 2000, and his arthritis fucked up his handwriting before that, so I would estimate the ink text was created no later than 1990. Going by the color and condition of the paper, I would guess it's significantly older than that.

I don't know who put it in the box with the photos; it might have been my aunt, or Alice (who was close with my aunt), or literally anyone else. We're hoping the pencil text will explain the ink.

Oh. And Granddad was absolutely privy to some wild shit in the Army, so there is a slim but nonzero chance this is bizarro spy nonsense. I know he turned down one job offer from the CIA, but that story always had the air of "they already knew me from that thing that time". I very much doubt this is spy shit, but you never exactly know. Every few years I find out something new and insane about my grandparents.

So, uh ... anyone know how I might get some help reading this thing?

P.S. If you need something to call him other than Granddad, feel free to use JB or his Army nickname--Bear. Yeah, I know. But dude was a GIGANTIC BEARLIKE HUMAN. The name fit.

[fortrivmph]

rules.

THIS IS AN INDEPENDENT / SELECTIVE ROLEPLAY BLOG FOR HAYTHAM KENWAY FROM THE ASSASSIN'S CREED SERIES.

GENERAL RULES.

i. there will be nsfw content on this blog, as well as gore and mentions of historically-accurate bigotry including racism and sexism. if you need something tagged, tell me. MINORS SHOULD NOT BE FOLLOWING OR INTERACTING WITH THIS BLOG. i am a grown adult, i am not comfortable with that.

➥ do not come here to be a freak about the templars. i am a historian with a focus in early christian history, i know enough about the templars and crusades to not tolerate modern white supremacist nonsense. trying to talk to me about the templars 'being right', historically or in the games, will earn you the cold shoulder at best. do not try your crusades 'defense' on me until you read fulcher. this is non-negotiable. sorry to the normal people reading this there have been horrors. ➥ do not say haytham should have been the protagonist of iii over connor. the way people talk about connor makes me insane. the point of iii was to provide an indigenous perspective on one part of the american revolution; haytham could not serve as a conduit to that. calling connor aggressive / bloodthirsty and haytham contrastingly charming / progressive will get you blocked.

ii. i prefer para over all other methods of roleplay, but if you want to use script, that’s fine. you do not need to format to roleplay with me. i use small text - tell me if you’re having trouble reading what i’m writing so I can bump the size back up for you.

iii. in-character drama is welcome in moderation; ooc drama is not. i do not reblog callout posts. if there is some extreme problem, you can come into my dms, but this is a privilege and if people start throwing petty drama my way i will revoke it. anon works the same way.

iv. i am always open to interacting with more than one of the same character, and ocs. i enjoy crossovers. that said, i more than likely won’t interact with kenway ocs. I WILL NOT INTERACT WITH PERSONAL BLOGS. PERSONAL BLOGS SHOULDN’T BE REBLOGGING MY THREADS - THAT WILL GET YOU BLOCKED.

v. i am not mutual-exclusive! i do not need to be following you for you to interact with me. it’s a way to keep my dash free of clutter, and threading with me is the best way to convince me to follow you!

vi. i work a full-time job and have a chronic hand condition, so sometimes my activity will plummet. i'm sorry if this causes frustration, it is also frustrating for me.

vii. the mun uses he / him pronouns; you can call me samuel!

viii. if you made it this far, thank you; please jump into my ask box whenever you need me, or tag/mention me in a post & we can get started. i promise i'm friendly, i love meeting new people and try to keep it chill!

IMPORTANT CHARACTER NOTES.

i. haytham has borderline personality disorder. i will neither tolerate it being used to excuse his actions, nor it being demonised as a condition. it is a part of how he operates, but not the cause for his violence or worldview.

ii. haytham was groomed by reginald birch. this also does not excuse his treatment of connor, but it does inform it, as it helped to influence his 'parenting' style. his choice to stay with the templars post-birch was his own.

[theworldsafuckingslaughterhouse]

Here is a rant I wrote

The other day I found this angry rant on my laptop I must have written a few years ago, so here it is. (*It's written as though it was being said on stage in much the way a standup comedian might perform it)

Hello yes hi how are we all?

You’re out! In the real world. Experiencing a real thing. Not watching the coloured box of death. The little metal shouty thing that’s invaded all our lives!

I can’t even watch Television anymore, it’s become too out of touch. It’s insane the things they think we should be watching. You see it with marketing you know, these adverts. Once upon a time, advertisements made sense. They were straight forward, using logical people to sell you useful things. You’d be sitting there covered in fresh blood and a woman with big hair would say, “Get the stains out in 2 hours with minimal scrubbing! Ajax” or whatever. So you’d buy the thing. Because it made sense and you needed it anyway and you didn’t feel tricked.

Now they approach it in a different way. It’s much more aggressive and manipulative. You have a woman doing the dishes and then the husband comes home from work or school or wherever they go and he says, “Beverly I don’t love you anymore.” And she turns, this image of Mary Berry in a polka dot dress and says, “I’m sleeping with your father. Hahahaha.” And shoots him in the head. And then it goes, “Ajax, because you deserve better” or something like that and it feels a little… detached from reality. They stopped selling us products and started selling us these dreams of what they think we want. I remember when cooking shows made sense. A woman would come out and show you how to set the timer on your microwave so the chicken didn’t dry out too much or come alive or something. Now they’ve fetishized the baked beans to such an extent that kids turn to their parents at dinner time and say, “Is it fried in truffle oil? No? Then I’m not having it. Would you at least making a fucking effort Mother.”

And all this fetishized nonsense has pushed the price up. I remember when you didn’t need a second mortgage just to afford a bag of onions. I remember when I could by onions and tomatoes in the same month. And they didn’t have to be organic! You used to be able to choose. You could choose between buying organic or not starving, and it was a decision we all got to make each week.

Then there’s these home living shows, do you ever try to watch these? The young couple who had a significant family member die, inherited a few million and decided to convert an abandoned petrol station into a 2 bedroom bungalow with a chocolate swimming pool and walk in freezer. Again, we fetishized houses so the market went crazy and now you have to be a lawyer-prostitute to afford one.

So what do they do to help us deal with the disappointment? Drugs! “Do you ever get thirsty?” a man in a white coat who looks vaguely like the eldest child from Home Improvement asks. Looking up from your jug of rum you say, “Yes! Yes I do.”

Well you might have OLDD or Oral Liquid Digesting Dysfunction.

Shit, you think, what can I do about it?

Next comes a lovely image of a man taking his shoes off at the beach and the voice over goes, “For just the price of a small corvette each year, we can help you feel like this guy with sand between his toes.” And your drunken self struggles with this notion. But meanwhile you’re already signing up to a 12 year subscription and purchasing the loose-your-pills insurance plan at the same time.

So this idea of tv aspirations just isn’t sustainable. You can’t be gods like the presenters you watch. You can never purchase enough shit to be king. And if you try and set your aspirations where they want you to, you’ll end up a withered corpse gripping a box of golden cornflakes in a public bathroom being eaten alive by wolves.

Thank you very much.

[incarnateirony]

First of all, even if, and that a big if, FBBC did close its doors, that doesn’t mean Jensen’s a failure. Crap happens and people are moving away from craft beers. It is what it is. Was it a great move to let people go right before the holidays, no, but whatever.

Lastly, quit being such a bully to people sending you asks. That’s not very crisis center like. Happy New Year!

Hey, needy bitch. Am I at work?

Am I getting paid to be your therapist at the moment, no?

Go to a paid therapist or pay me to tolerate your bullshit. I don't know if you noticed, you're not contacting a crisis center, you're harassing a blog on tumblr. I don't know how to explain to you that it isn't the same.

FBBC isn't closing it's doors, Jensen didn't have a failure, the place is not closing or reducing, it's not shrinking, it's not failing. The bullies here are the banshees that scream and root for failure and then start crybully bullshit like exactly this ask when you're pointed out to be a bunch of delusional goblins.

Nobody has to tolerate your horse shit, carol.

My off work rate is 60/hour. So if you want therapy, pay up, otherwise, you're literally a series of lunatics breaking into someone's house day in day out, banging on windows, screaming nonsense about jensen ackles and jared padadicki.

The ask is a nice backroll though. It doesn't escape me the substance is basically, "ok, ok, ok it's not closing we made it up we just have opinions about firing someone and catastrophized it for entertainment. But you're mean for not humoring our fictional delusions GEEZ HOW DARE YOU NOT TOLERATE ANONYMOUS IDIOTS LYING ABOUT THINGS, CALL THE POLICE, I'M UPSET"

Why does this fandom have such a goddamn rabid addictive issue of attacking anyone that knows they're full of shit. Holy shit. Literally all of this ask box warring for an anon to admit it's not closing and they just have an opinion about letting a worker go and when they just said that shit out loud and whined that they literally expect me to be their 24/7 therapist for all of their personal issues, unpaid, regardless of how they treat me, when even as a counselor I have the right to tell people that act just like you to end these behavior patterns or end the conversation. While I'm paid. So what do you think I owe you for this banal chimpanzee behavior when you're on my personal blog on my off day doing the same bullshit? Get real help. And try not to act like a feral jungle child when you talk to a therapist lest you get thrown out.

Hey, assholes. It truly is not going to work. You can type as many words in my inbox to feel like you win an internet fight, but after ongoing months of training about mental health, you are literally incapable of gaslighting me like this. It will not work. I'm explicitly trained on drawing boundaries with you people and identifying when you're experiencing delusional behaviors that are beyond my ability to assist and, if you are not suicidal, then you are not my issue. You have issues miles and miles and miles past my area of supporting you in mental health, so stop pretending I'm obligated to, or that you have any normal social or mental health behavior patterns in how you engage with me. And since you brought up crisis work to feel like I owe you something, it CLEARLY is eating at you rent-fucking free and enraging you that yes, that is my job and yes, odds are it's driving you even deeper into insanity to know I'm the one who passed psych tests and education on mhi here while you compulsively look for unwell and later self-admitted delusional or manipulated attack angles for attention and feeling right, while you know you're comedically wrong. it's genuinely a demand to deal with their toxic ongoing abuse while giving them infinite support for free while they expressly state they have no intention of changing behavior. That's the definition of, ok, bye.

This is my boundary. When you choose to cross it, you no longer get to whine about being Scared* (lol, scared of words without threats) or Uncomfortable* (Ok karen) or Belittled. Like, you literally keep choosing to drag yourself in here to pick fights over shit you later admit while you pretend you aren't admitting your entire reason to be here is attention seeking horse shit and yeah, I'm right, it's not closing, thanks for confirming. Did we need the circus between or are you ready to accept you need therapy?

You Feeling Bad after you read words like this is also not me being Man Bad. It's you going, am I the baddy? No, I can't. And then we cycle this horse shit, every time, and every time you guys get more and more wildin, demanding, and just jackshit insane, because every time you feel more clowned and worse, so man bad, and you refuse to break yourself out of this loop and get some goddamn psychiatric help for your obsessive compulsive, addictive and delusional behaviors.

My time in this fandom always felt like being stalked by the local psych ward, but them demanding i treat them in my anon box like a crisis center call, that's a new one. Is that them admitting they need help?

[vampire-catboy]

oof. the thing you posted abt 'are you sure you're a brat' really struck a chord w me, hope you don't mind a related ramble in your ask box!

I am absolutely a brat, but I am also a switch. and it often feels weird when I’m in a top or a dom headspace, because very often, people don’t take it seriously. i’m short, skinny, and transmasc, so a lot of the time people think it’s cute, or it’s funny, they dismiss it as bratting, or they think that they can physically overpower me so they *must* be the top/dom by default.

for me it goes to the heart of how constructed it all is – the whole point of kink/BDSM is playing roles, and someone not respecting/not listening to what role I want in a scene is kind of shitty, actually!

i feel like i'm butting up against people's assumptions about what a top, or a dom, looks like or should be – and most of those assumptions (being taller, being physically stronger, being able to throw someone around, having a dick) rely on cishet nonsense.

I'm glad I'm not the only one that feels that way, and you're absolutely right, not only is it shitty but honestly I think it betrays your trust and it's also somebody blatantly disrespecting you and actually seeing you as less than outside of play which is absolutely not ok. I'm not a brat myself, but the amount of times that people have assumed that I was is kind of insane. I've had to be very clear with people that if they think I'm being a brat, it's because I'm actually feeling domy. The fastest way to get me turned off is to try and treat me like a brat, because all that's going to happen is I'm gonna put you in your fucking place and then I'm gonna go do something useful like jerk myself off instead.

Also, you can absolutely feel free to ramble in my inbox whenever you like, you can even do it in my DM's if you ever want to 💕

[snowonthebeachmp3]

I posted 5,491 times in 2022

That's 4,707 more posts than 2021!

1,082 posts created (20%)

4,409 posts reblogged (80%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@to-need-somebody

@youareonyourownkid

@cages-boxes-hunters-foxes

@mytearsrricochet

@missegyptiana

I tagged 2,537 of my posts in 2022

#sabtext - 836 posts

#ask - 227 posts

#anon - 182 posts

#atw live tag - 28 posts

#to-need-somebody - 25 posts

#lmao - 20 posts

#don't blame me tag - 18 posts

#midnightsposting - 17 posts

#taylor swift - 13 posts

#spotify - 12 posts

Longest Tag: 135 characters

#🎶you’re so vain you probably think this song is abooooout you🎶 🤝 🎶and you’ll say oh my god she’s insane she wrote a song about me🎶

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

menace!!!

601 notes - Posted October 6, 2022

#4

people trying to act like lover was anything approaching a 'flop era' will never make sense to me. obviously numbers-wise that's straight up nonsensical, but also it was such an important era in taylor recovering her public image and coming back from her media blackout and laying old scores to rest and publicly emphasising her moral rights to her own work and her place in the music business.

628 notes - Posted June 19, 2022

#3

midnight rain is actually so… oof. like maybe she’s promoting red or maybe it’s 1989 or maybe it’s another album and everything is just a lot of a lot, the media’s at her, everyone’s got their own loud opinions, she’s been dragged into some high-profile tabloid drama, the magnifying glass on her feels particularly hot. and late one night in the midst of this, she thinks back to the time when, as a teenager, she set herself on this road. and while in the cold light of day she wouldn’t think of changing her path, right now she’s alone at midnight and her mind imagines going back, wonders what it would have been like if she’d settled, chosen a smaller, cosier life with a picture perfect shiny family, holiday, peppermint candy, even though she knows it couldn’t have satisfied her.

713 notes - Posted October 27, 2022

#2

who else is doing it like her

829 notes - Posted May 24, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

the way nobody is even talking or thinking about this because taylor managed to drop a whole other bomb that spectacularly overshadowed even herself!!!! her power is truly insane

1,420 notes - Posted August 29, 2022

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