#this was meant to be a short post about me going bonkers

[menuliso]

i actually think i have some sort of brain damage from chapter 403 because now ive taken my bkdk obsession to a whole new degree. like, i was insane before, but now i feel as if i should be genuinely put into an asylum.

ive gone through a full on awakening.

before this chapter i refused to believe that bkdk would become canon/hinted bc like its wishful thinking. but now? ive fallen into the fucking deep end. i am of full belief that bkdk will become canon or at least be hinted bc horikoshi is cooking something and im so glad im not the only one to see it.

there is no way that man doesnt know what hes doing. bkdks entire arc has been fucking perfect and this man just keeps BUILDING UP. like all this talk about feelings, and how bkdk have never really spoken about them to eachother before??? this is like, building up to a fucking love confession i swear, because katsuki DIED for izuku, and izuku cant control his heart when it comes to katsuki, and like… what other explaination is there? atp i consider it canon that theyre in love with each other.

and the other most likely ship that i thought was gonna be canon, izuocha, just is not feasible. its not like i dislike the ship, no hate to it at all, but making it canon would be so fucking harmful to izuku and ochakos characters and we dont talk about that enough. it would a dissapointing, flat conclusion with barely any build up and itd be the bland, predictable formula. like, ochako has already basically wrapped up her thing with izuku with that entire fight with toga. shes admitted herself that her crush on izuku was more admiration than anything of massive substance. and dont even get me started on izuku. barring some fluster and embarrassed blushing in the early seasons, this boy has NOT reciprocated AT ALL. its actually ridiculous. izuku has been focused on like, two things only: hero work, and kacchan. izuku does not show ANY romantic feeling to ochako whatsoever.

surely, surely if horikoshi were to make this canon, he’d put in a little more effort? add some more chemistry, more development, more than just ‘boy meets girl. blush and get shy. little crush. get married. the end’?

that is bad storytelling, and horikoshi is anything but a bad storyteller. this guy adds foreshadowing YEARS before the chapter. horikoshi is INSANE when it comes to character + relationship + plot development. if horikoshi throws all that out the way, and makes izuocha canon, id be extremely, extremely disappointed. not because i hate the ship, but because itd be out of nowhere, disregard practically ALL development, and be nauseatingly dissatisfying.

talking of which, for the entire day ive been thinking about the foreshadowing for bkdk.

there. is. so. fucking. much. it feels like everytime i read like a new section of the manga, their relationship is described in the most frutti tutti rainbow gay way. im sorry, shigafo, did you just say that katsuki is closer to izuku than ANYONE else? excuse me, aizawa, did you just describe them as pair, a pair that the class revolves around? dont even mention the shit that izuku and katsuki say referring to each other. i cant even choose one to add in here, but every out of context bkdk quote has like these SEVERE more-than-platonic undertones, especially when you consider their past and their development. i feel like horikoshi has been doing some fucking insane foreshadowing for something MORE.

yk, i keep on thinking about how in the double spread in 403, the words ‘the beginning’ are displayed right over bkdk, as they find each other. call me delusional, but that has to be on purpose. i also keep on thinking about izukus green and orange gloves in so many official arts, and the light in both their eyes when they see each other, and the way theyre both always observing the other, never speaking about how they feel directly.

their relationship is just so, so……. and i feel like the only next step is for them to talk. just. fucking. talk. its been hinted at for so long, and horikoshi is doing SOMETHING.

them simply being together would be the most satisfying, developed, beautiful ending.

if they arent canon, i will die. ill say it now. bkdk canon. there is too much proof. as a writer, i know for a fact that i write everything for a REASON. why would horikoshi write this, if he wasn��t going to do anything with it?

bkdk will be canon. i dont care if i sound insane, or get proved entirely wrong. i now fully believe that the last page of the manga will be bkdk at a theme park eating crepes.

thank you chapter 403 for driving me off the rails.

[karmathenightowl]

So I have a theory about Dracula's plan 🐱

I saw this post talking about Dracula's whole plan with this mysterious "aria" and recreating an experience with music, to which I reblogged commenting in the tags saying:

"What if is this is an homage to CATS?"

Well with some newfound knowledge near the bottom of this post, I couldn't keep this theory hidden.

Hear me out. Also spoilers ahead!

So Mr. Mistoffelees being an npc in this campaign is funny and obvious enough. However, it may go deeper than that.

In ep 2, the diary entry tells us that a young Dracula had a plesant experience of witnessing a band of troubadours play beautiful music. However, that happiness was short lived when Dracula's father had the troubadours impaled.

In ep 24 when the party is reading Dracula's diary, Justin asks Griffin about this memory, which he refers to as "the moment of happiness."

Sounds familiar, huh?

The song "The Moments of Happiness" from the musical CATS have these lyrics:

The moments of happiness We had the experience but missed the meaning And approach to the meaning Restores the experience in a different form

The meaning I get from the song as a whole is that the happiness that comes from positive memories are different from your experience of said memories.

Dracula may not have truly understood what this happiness truly meant for him at the time of these troubadours performing. But rather than self reflecting on that happiness and how it affected him, he wants to recreate it in this macabre Frankenstein-esque manner with the people of Lumineaux.

There's also the matter of Dracula's "ascension." We don't know what this means just yet, but I'm willing to guess it is directly inspired by CATS to have Dracula literally ascend up to the sky and be reborn "heavyside layer" style. For what exactly? I am unsure of.

ALSO earlier today I discovered this:

In episode 375 of Besties this year (Prince of Persia: The Lost Crown Starts the Year Out Strong), Griffin opens it up with this:

"For reasons that will become apparent for Adventure Zone listeners in the future, I've have been listening to MIDI versions of songs from the CATS musical this morning."

Now this COULD just be referring to Mr. Mistoffelees, but if not...

Has the story of this entire campaign just been a massive tribute to CATS this whole time?

With EVERYTHING that has happened, every wild, out there, bonkers set of events that have occurred up to this point in the campaign, I wouldn't be surprised if this was the case.

What are you planning, Griffin? Or I guess I should say "What are you planning Dracula?"

[doonarose]

Tagged by the lovely @gaiaseyes451! Thanks for the tag, needed a distraction this morning!

How many works do you have on ao3?

24

What's your total ao3 word count?

320,239 minus about 118k which was the big collaborative fic, that's still over 200k which is bonkers considering I've only been posting to AO3 for about ten months!!!

What fandoms do you write for?

Good Omens! But in the past, and not on AO3, it was Glee, before that Doctor Who, and before that, high school days, it was Alias and Farscape...

Top five fics by kudos:

Esurient Designs: Crowley and Aziraphale go for a very long lunch. Crowley has a lot of fantasies. I cannot believe this is my top fic... it was meant to be a couple of throw away lines between parts of my 'figuring their shit out' series but then I wanted to write all the food and Crowley's mind...

Pulled: Follows directly from Esurient Designs and is the entire point I started writing at all. The idea being to work them through their communication issues and get them to some good old fashioned sex! 32k words detailing exactly how that sex goes. It goes well.

Precarious, But Worth It: My first oneshot, written while I was making my way through the main series, because I just really, really wanted to write them taking a shortcut to fucking. From memory it's just yelling their feelings and then handjobs and frotting against the desk, but it's mine and people clearly are still finding it and enjoying!

The First One That's Right: The one that started it all. The very first thing I wrote and it just poured out of me and set up a seven part series (that became a ten part series) detailing all their kisses. Love that this is in my top five because it's not smut, just kissing!

Suddenly, Eagerly: My second oneshot, also written while I was writing the kissing series because I, again, wanted a short cut to the sexy times. This one is a bit more stressed/relieved fucking. With a lot of miracles to speed things along.

Do you respond to comments?

Yes, I try really hard to but I usually feel like I'm just yelling THANK YOU incoherently at people. And sometimes it does take me ages, especially when it's a really lovely comment because I am just too overwhelmed to know what to say.

What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

I really, really don't do angsty endings. Like, ever. I guess you could say Esurient Designs, just because Crowley's on a journey and not really 'there' yet. Or A Bathhouse Pretense just because they're not together at the end of it... and I almost always have them together. Everything else is pretty sweet.

What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

All of them!! Honestly, they all seem equally happy and promising, that's a huge part of why I write at all! If I had to pick one, maybe Four Speed Manual Transmission because it's the beginning of the rest of their lives type vibes?

Do you get hate on fics?

Not in this fandom, not really! I've had a couple of interesting anons trying to lure me into top/bottom bullshit. And there are always a few comments on AO3 that are questionable, but nothing like I used to see during the Golden Years of Glee.

Do you write smut?

Almost exclusively. If I'm not writing smut, I'm writing something to lead to smut. But then I'm only writing the smut as a vehicle to pull apart their relationship and psychology (she tells herself).

Craziest crossover:

I struggle to fixate on one thing, I've never managed two!

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not in this fandom! But I know some of my short glee fics were repurposed for some anime thing and popped up on ff.net for a while there.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yeah, back in the Glee days again, this lovely woman translated several of my fics into Spanish!

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

I did a lot of the orchestrating of Coming Home which was like 30+ authors, about 40 days of writing, and ended up with over 100 chapters/115k words. So that was enormous. Not your traditional collaboration though. I wrote some of my very best Doctor Who stuff co-writing with a woman I ended up meeting up with in New York! Recently collabed for a few others on birthday fic for Gleafer. And then there might be a new collab fic in the pipeline as well...

All time favorite ship?

Yeah I have to say Aziraphale/Crowley. Impossible to go past them at this point. But Ten/Rose and Klaine will always hold a special place ni my heart.

What's a wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

Oh I know I will never finish these two and that will haunt me forever. Both are for Alias, One called Escape got to 56k words and 27 chapters and hasn't been updated since May, 2004. The other is called True Lies, got to 98k words and 50 chapters and leaves off with the cliffhanger - "So, what exactly is the plan here?" in July of 2004. Sixteen year old me was a little shit.

What are your writing strengths?

I guess smut? The description bit, anyhow, and, I guess interweaving feelings and character development with the sex. I think I'm also pretty decent at voice, so long as I'm paying attention.

What are your writing weaknesses?

I worry a lot about how wordy I always end up being. Sometimes this is a good thing, but I know my writing isn't a lot of peoples cup of tea because it takes so long to read through the swamp to actually get to some sort of development. Because of this, my pacing can be pretty shit which has me panicking with a couple of multi-chapter things coming together, including one that really does need to have plot.

Thoughts on dialogue in another language?

I only speak english so I doubt I'd ever write dialogue in another language aside from a word or two here and there. In general I don't mind reading it, but I get that it can become tedious.

First fandom you wrote in?

Farscape! When I was 12 or 13. As far as I can tell that atrocity has been wiped from the internet...

Favorite fic you've written?

Tricky question. If Deer Fic ends up happening (and there is a decent 30k written) it will hopefully be there, because it'll be a proper, multi-chapter, plot-driven beast! But for now it's probably still the very first little fic I wrote, just because it was the gateway to everything that has come since! Or! Messily Eager & Eagerly Messy because it was an absolute blast to write, I do love a challenge, and I know it gave a bunch of people confusing feelings!

No pressure tagging and I know most of you will have already been tagged/done this but: @harlotofupdog, @cheeseplants @paperclipninja @sixbynine-da @wingsofopal

[alargehunkofdebris]

The Flip-Flopping Confidence of Aziraphale

So I made a post a bit ago about Aziraphale’s reaction to the kiss, and someone very correctly pointed out that Aziraphale does not believe he is undesirable (as I had claimed in-essay), citing that one little look in the first scene, after Crowley calls the universe “gorgeous.”

This is so true. What the heck is with that look?

I’ve thought about it, and here are my thoughts.

Long story short, Aziraphale is a big ol’ ball of contradictions, as is what sometimes happens with people who’ve suffered in toxic relationships.

But short story long, however…

Okay, so first of all, Aziraphale’s happy little expectation thinking that a complete stranger would call him “gorgeous” out of absolutely nowhere is bonkers. No other word for it. If I met someone for the first time, and they called me “gorgeous” straight to my face, apropos of nothing, no lead up whatsoever, I would be looking over my shoulder, wondering what the hell they were referring to. So this is either a very angel thing to do (they could just go around complimenting each other back then, who knows) or—and this is kinda my opinion—this was just a funny foreshadow thing that Mr. Gaiman did for the fans and to set the tone of the season. Or a mix of both. Remember, this is portraying the beginning of time—this is before they even really had corporeal forms. What we see, I’m guessing, is less a purely accurate visual of what happened and merely a representation. A stage-play version of the events. Yes, this is a comedy that uses modernisms to juxtapose for humor (referencing lead balloons before balloons were even invented, etc) but we can still (if we want) imagine that, for this to logically work, this is just a way of conveying these events in a way our 21st century brains can handle. For all we know, these two were balls of energy, conversing in some ancient star language through telepathy. And at this point, appreciation for another’s form might’ve just been a common thing. They were all so gorgeous, they just went around appreciating each other.

I don’t think this was meant to be so deep dived, however (doved? doven?). I think Gaiman just wanted a cute scene that shows their flirtation from the beginning. But I will argue, still, that this is at a point where Aziraphale hadn’t developed any kind of self-esteem issues. He was a baby angel, used to compliments, or maybe just so new with interaction that he wouldn’t have been surprised by anything. Let’s just say this: the Aziraphale of modern day probably wouldn’t have made that assumption.

It's a sad thing to think, but I think the modern day Aziraphale is one who has lost a portion of the self-confidence he’d carried in that first scene.

Because he is, at heart, a confident person, even when all evidence contradicts that feeling. He feels confident he can do slight-of-hand magic when he barely can, for example. But, after 6000 years of living amongst the humans, I’d say he’s also nestled very comfortably into the role of observer, never truly a part of anything. He playacts, and has fun, but knows he’ll never be a true magician. He makes believe, and has fun, but he’d never be a real reporter. He puts on ball, and dances, but he’ll never truly experience romantic love.

I think this stems hugely from this concept of being a mediocre angel. He’s felt that, ever since he befriended a demon. He’s been an observer of the “good” angels, but was never quite up to snuff himself (with exception, likely, to the time before the Fall). Crowley, on the other hand, while technically has been a “bad” demon, has still maintained a great reputation in Hell because he’s just damn good at selling himself. Aziraphale is too honest to lie, so he’s always (in my head) been a subpar employee, even before Armageddon’t. And his bosses don’t have any qualms about reminding him—they belittle him constantly, familiarly. To the point where Aziraphale has internalized this nugget of self doubt that keeps him from taking risks, going against the status quo, etc.

I know very well this weird, contradictory feeling. One moment you feel hot, and self-confident, and like no one on Earth can touch you. The next, moment, that old standby mode kicks in, and your feeling 6/10 once more. It’s a reminder, a wake-up alarm – don’t go too far, bucko. Don’t get too big for your britches. Remember who you are.

The times he feels the least connected to this self-doubt, this built-up lack of self-confidence, is when he is just doing small things with Crowley, and usually when it’s not anything high-stakes that would involve Heaven/Hell. He can bicker happily with Crowley about the car, he can nettle Crowley into doing a little apology dance, he can put on a ball and have fun. These low-risk times are when he can let loose, be happy and confident and himself, because these small moments will go unnoticed by Heaven. He’s not at risk of his bubble being burst, of being told “stop that. Remember your place.”

And that voice, tell him to stop and remember his place, is what keeps his confidence in check for the big things. Things like acknowledging that he and Crowley are more than friends, that Crowley wants to be with him so badly. Because, technically, Crowley is a much more “impressive” being than Aziraphale, and always has been. He was a higher-ranking angel, and was the demon chosen to tempt the humans. Though Aziraphale had a big job (that he screwed up on immediately, of course) he was still not the top in his rank (I don’t know anything about the bible, but if he was the angel of the Eastern Gate, I always assumed there were more guarding the walls/gates). Aziraphale was always getting reprimanded for his work, and Crowley was getting praise. Aziraphale is so used to being the “lesser” angel that he might even apply that title to him and Crowley, and be shocked at the idea that a slick, laid-back, higher-ranking demon (who is not typically even capable of love, perhaps) could make an exception for such a mediocre being. Despite all their flirtations and years of friendship, Aziraphale still sees it as this kind of play-acting – a dance they do for fun, but it’s never serious.

This is, of course, just one opinion in my brain – there’s a lot of ways to interpret it, and I can’t decide which one I really believe. Because if Aziraphale really saw nothing there, then what was the “you go too fast for me, Crowley” all about? It could’ve just been yet another moment of “You go too fast…in friendship,” thing, but who knows.

What I do know is that there’s something always holding Aziraphale back from Crowley, but it is not for lack of want. Aziraphale wants it just as much as Crowley. But he’s got many, many potential things holding him back from even considering this life – fear of heaven, lack of self-confidence, lack of trust, etc. It’s all adding up to one thought, the theme that’s threaded through his long, long, life—you’re not allowed to do this. You’re an angel, nothing less, nothing more.

[sequinsmile-x]

Allegiance

It was nice to finally have someone who was on her side, someone who would always put her first.

A Young Hotchniss story with a twist.

Chapter 1 of 3

-x-

Hi friends

This is a gift for @sapphoe-sun. Just a gift for no reason at all, although I will take this chance to say thank for for always letting me send you absolutely bonkers ideas.

This idea got away from me massively, and was only supposed to be one chapter, but the fic just kept coming and here we are.

Chapter 2 is all but done, as is most of Chapter 3, so my intention is to post this fic on 3 consecutive days.

Note: the flashbacks to young Hotchniss are in italics.

-x-

Words: 3.8k

Warnings: Pregnancy, mommy issues, complicated mother/daughter relationship, canon typical behaviour (i.e. a man being a creep - not Aaron obviously)

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

June 1995

She’s fussing. 

If anyone said it to her, she’d deny it vehemently, her eyebrows furrowed as she claimed she was fine. But as she looks in the mirror, running her hands over the material of her dress, smoothing it out for the fifth time in the last couple of minutes, she can admit to herself that she was fussing. 

“You can’t tell.” 

She turns to look at her boyfriend, unable to stop the smile that spreads across her face as she sees the way he’s looking at her, unfiltered adoration shining out for all the world to see. She looks back at her reflection, turning sideways so she can examine her profile again, and she focuses in on her lower belly, sure she can see a slight bump there. The slightest of hints of how her life was going to drastically change soon. 

“Are you sure?” she asks, placing her hand on her stomach, “I don’t want her to figure it out tonight.” 

Aaron smiles at her and walks towards her, stepping past boxes half packed with all of their things, their move to their new home only a couple of weeks away. He stands behind her, his arms wrapping around her as he pulls her back into him, the material of his tux jacket against her shoulder blades that had been left bare by her dress. He places his hand over hers on her stomach. 

“I can tell,” he says, kissing her jawline and then her cheek, “But that’s because I’m intimately familiar with what you look like naked,” he smiles when she does, some of the tension in her body loosening, “But your mother won’t be able to tell.” 

She nods and blows out a steady breath, her stomach flipping in a way that she knew was nerves instead of the ever-present nausea she’d grown used to over the last several weeks. 

She’d fallen pregnant by accident. She and Aaron had always been careful, the summer in Rome that had changed her irrevocably always in the back of her mind, but it had happened anyway. A round of antibiotics for a chest infection she hadn’t been able to shift in early spring made her pill obsolete. Her initial reaction when she realised she was pregnant, standing in the bathroom she shared with her boyfriend, a positive test clutched in her hand, was to cry. The panic was familiar, sharp and painful as it stole her ability to breathe. 

Aaron had found her curled up on the floor, his concern for her overriding everything else as he dropped the cleaning supplies he’d been holding to sit next to her, pulling her into his arms as he calmed her down even though he hadn’t known what was wrong. She’s sure she never loved him more than the moment she told him, his immediate reaction nothing short of kind and loving as he asked what she wanted to do, that he’d support her no matter what. He knew about Rome, about the choice she’d made then, and she knew he meant it. That if she decided to make the same choice now he’d hold her hand, that he’d see her through it. 

It made all the difference. Knowing that she wasn’t alone in the responsibility of it this time. They’d talked about it for days and discussed their options at length. Different futures spread out in front of them as they decided which path to take. She knew she wanted children with him eventually, but had always thought it would be when her career was more established. When she wasn’t only a couple of years into her time at the FBI, her feet were not quite firmly on the ground yet. She knew Aaron felt the same, that whilst he was five years older than her and had been at the FBI longer, he’d never hidden that he wanted to have more time to get established first. 

Ultimately, they decided whilst the timing was far from perfect, that they wanted this. That they wanted to start the family neither of them had ever really been a part of. Ever since then, she’d allowed herself to be excited by it. Overjoyed by the prospect of having a baby with the man she loved, the man who she had once told herself would be nothing more than a summer fling. 

She wishes she could go back and talk to her 20-year-old self. That she could tell her that the new guy working her mother’s security clearances would end up being more than just fantastic sex that they’d sneak away for at any given opportunity. That he’d end up being her boyfriend, that they’d make the distance when she went back to college work, and they’d move in together shortly after she was done. 

That they’d build a family together. 

She knew he had a ring hidden away, he had never been able to keep much from her, but he also knew she wasn’t ready for that quite yet. The baby was already a big change, and whilst she knew she would marry Aaron one day, she didn’t think she could cope with too much at once. The instinct to run, to blow her life up and leave, if she felt too overwhelmed, still living just beneath the surface of her skin. 

“She…” Emily trails off, blowing out a breath as she leans back, her head against his shoulder, “She won’t be happy.” 

Elizabeth had never been fond of Emily’s relationship with Aaron. Not only because he had once worked for her, but she would claim it was because she didn’t want her daughter to settle down so young. Although, Emily was sure that if she’d fallen for someone her mother deemed appropriate, one of the many men she’d had paraded past her for years at events like the one they were going to tonight, there would be no issue. 

“Well, that sounds like a her problem,” Aaron says, kissing her temple before he turns her and pulls her into his arms, his hands firm at her lower back, “We’re happy, that’s what counts.”

She smiles and nods, her teeth sinking into her lower lip, all thoughts of her mother briefly falling to the wayside, “Yeah,” she says, leaning forward and kissing him, tasting the joy on his lips, “We’re happy.”

___

January 2007

She’s woken up by tiny hands pressing into her face. She groans as she opens her eyes, blinking as she’s met by her two-year-old son’s face mere inches from hers, his warm breath skipping over her cheek.

“Hi Mama,” Oliver says, smiling widely at her, something she can’t help but return as she pulls him into a hug. 

“Morning, Ollie,” she replies, kissing the top of his head as he settles into her embrace, both of them intent on starting their day like this, snuggled together in the big bed. She hears movement downstairs, the sound of breakfast being made and the beautiful chaos she now couldn’t imagine life without, “I think your sisters are helping Daddy make breakfast.” 

“No pancakes,” he says, tilting his head to look up at her, his pout enough to make her smother a smile as she clears her throat.

“No, baby,” she says, pushing his messy dark hair from his face, his tiny features pinching into a frown that made him look even more like her husband than he usually does, “Pancakes are a weekend food,” she looks at the clock on the nightstand and sighs when she sees the time, well aware that it was time to get out of bed, and that was likely why Aaron had sent Oliver into their bedroom anyway. She sits up and keeps her toddler in her arms as she does so, well-practised after all of these years. Oliver wraps his arms around her neck and rests his head against her chest, happily settling on her hip as she stands and leaves the room, “Let’s go see what everyone else is doing, huh?”

She listens intently as Oliver chats to her as she heads downstairs, humming along at his, mostly nonsensical ramblings that only she, Aaron and the girls truly understood. She shares a smile with her husband as she walks into the kitchen, the sight of their daughters sitting at the breakfast bar warming her heart as it always did. 

“Morning,” she says, smiling as Aaron leans in to kiss her, both of them chuckling as Ivy, their eldest, groans in disgust around a mouthful of her cereal. 

“Gross,” the 12-year-old grumbles, “I’m trying to eat here.”

Emily smiles, never failing to get a kick out of winding up her daughter, “Your brother and sister don’t mind,” she says as she sits Oliver down in his chair, placing a plate of toast sliced into strips handed to her by Aaron in front of the little boy. 

Ivy narrows her eyes at her mother, “That’s because Ollie is two, and Rosie thinks it’s cute,” she says, scrunching her nose up like she herself hadn’t once loved the fact her parents were so in love with each other back when she was her sister’s age. 

Aaron had said from the very start that Ivy was her through and through. He’d said it moments after she was born, bright red and screaming, her dark hair plastered to her head and her dark eyes wide and bleary. Their friends always said it to, more and more over the years as Ivy’s personality developed into the empathetic, kind, wilful and sassy 12-year-old girl she is today. 

The girl who had once been the tiny baby who made Emily a mother, when she no longer had contact with her own. 

There were moments when Emily wished she could go back and tell herself how everything would work out. How she’d go from laying in a hospital bed, her tiny little newborn baby in her arms, terrified at the prospect of messing everything up, of becoming the mother she desperately didn’t want to be, to this. A house full of love and chaos in equal measure. A husband who loved her in a way she still wasn’t entirely sure she deserved. Three beautiful children who had made her realise just how deeply she could love. 

How deeply she should have been loved when she was their age. 

“It is cute,” Rosie says, the 6-year-old smiling at Emily when she presses a kiss to the top of her messy braids. Ivy rolls her eyes and opens her mouth to respond, only to be cut off by Aaron.

“Girls,” he says, not above begging when it came to his daughters, two small versions of his wife that sometimes pushed him to his limit in a way he couldn’t live without, “Can we please make it through breakfast without bickering? Or at least until I’ve had my coffee.” 

Emily smiles at him as he passes her a cup of coffee and she leans into his side, making a point of wrapping her arm around his waist as Ivy playfully shakes her head at them. 

“Sorry, Dad,” Ivy says, failing to hide a smile as she stands and dumps her now empty bowl in the sink. She turns back around and looks at her brother, jam from his toast smushed into his cheeks. She picks up some paper towels from the counter and wipes his face gently, chasing him as he tries to escape it, “Stay still Ollie, you’re all gross and sticky.” 

Emily sighs contently as she watches her oldest gently look after her youngest, the sight of it enough to make her sink into Aaron’s side a little further. He kisses the top of her head and runs his hand up and down her arm.

“You ok, sweetheart?” he asks, and she tilts her head to look up at him, a soft smile on her face as she nods. 

“Yeah, I’m ok,” she says, stamping a kiss against his lips before she pulls back, her eyes landing on the clock on the wall, “We should get moving or we’ll be late,” she looks over at the kids and smiles when she sees Oliver somehow has more jam on his face than he had moments ago. She smiles at her husband and nods towards the kids, “You happy to take jam boy and I’ll help the girls?”

Aaron nods, smiling at her, “Deal, but bath time tonight is all yours,” he says, winking, “It’s finger painting day.” 

She shakes her head at him as he picks Oliver up, out of the room before she changes her mind. 

___

She’s grateful it’s busy, that there are enough people here that her time with her mother, and any potential questions about why she wasn’t drinking, would be limited. They’d briefly seen her when they arrived, pleasantries exchanged as if they were just any other guests, not her daughter and her boyfriend. 

Emily knows when her mother comes over tomorrow, a catch-up they had planned weeks ago that she now was going to use to tell her she was going to be a grandmother, she’ll be chastised for hanging at the edges of the party all night. She spends all her time with Aaron instead of stepping into the crowds. For once, it’s not just because she doesn’t want to, the memories of her childhood spent at events like this always lingering at the edge of her mind, but because she can’t. She felt sick, the nausea her doctor promised her would ease off after she hit 12 weeks but hadn’t making her stomach roll, made worse by the heat in the room, her head swimming with it. 

She blows out a breath and leans back against the wall they are standing near. Aaron immediately turns to look at her, his hand on her shoulder as he furrows his brow. He’d always been attentive, aware of her needs often before she was, but that had only increased since they found out she was pregnant. 

“You ok, sweetheart?” he asks, looking her up and down. He’d asked more than once if she wanted to skip coming to this, happy to take the flack from her mother that would come with their absence. He didn’t care if Elizabeth was offended by anything, he only cared about Emily and the baby, their well-being far above anything else.

“Yeah,” she says, blinking and shaking her head, hoping she could remove the haziness she’d fallen under, “Just a little hot.” 

He squeezes her shoulder, “Want to step out into the hallway? I could go get you some water. Or ginger ale, I’m sure someone here would be able to get some.” 

She smiles at him and reaches for his spare hand, squeezing it tightly, a silent show of appreciation for his love for her, for them, “Water would be great,” she says, leaning forward to kiss his cheek, “I’ll see you out there.” 

The cooler air that hits her as she steps out into the hall is refreshing, clearing her head and making her stomach calm down. She sighs as she leans on the wall, her head against it as she closes her eyes, grateful for a moment's peace.

“Emily Prentiss, it’s been a while.” 

She opens her eyes and stops herself from sighing, forcing a tight smile onto her face as she’s greeted by one of her mother’s friends. A man she’d known for as long as she could remember, someone who always came to things like this, a fellow ambassador and big donator to any charity drives.

“Ambassador Collins,” she says, standing up straight, and taking a small step forward from the wall, “It’s harder to find time for things like this these days I’m afraid.” 

If it was up to her, she wouldn’t come to these things at all, but she’d learnt a long time ago that she had to pick her battles with her mother, and that this just wasn’t one of them. 

“Yes, your mother did say something about you working at the FBI now,” he says, smiling as he looks her up and down, a glint in his eyes that makes her stomach turn for an entirely different reason to her pregnant, “And please, call me Robert.” 

She has to stop herself from reacting physically, painting the fake smile she’d learnt at a young age all over her face as he steps slightly closer, “I’ve been there a couple of years,” she says, taking a step back, regretting it when her back hits the wall, “My boyfriend works there too.”

Mentioning Aaron doesn’t have the impact she hopes it will. She hates that she has to rely on it, that it was often the mention of another man that would make someone stop hitting on her, but it was usually effective. Especially when she brought up the fact her boyfriend was an FBI agent. It doesn’t deter Robert as he steps even closer again, and she grimaces when she can smell his breath, the scotch that permeated it making her stomach roll. 

“You really have grown up into the most beautiful young woman.”

He places his hand on her hip, making her flinch as he squeezes her skin through her dress, and she scrunches her nose up. She’s ready to tell him to take his hand off of her or risk losing it, but she’s interrupted by a familiar and stern voice.

“Is everything okay here?” 

She’s sure she’s never been more grateful to see Aaron. He’s standing just down the hall, a glass of water in his hand and a scowl on his face, and she knows he’s picked up on what he’s walked in on.

Robert steps back from her, his hand falling away, and she takes the opportunity to slip away, walking over to Aaron and taking the drink he’d got her from his hand. 

“Thanks, honey,” she says, making a point of emphasising the nickname. She’d not surprised as Aaron wraps his arm around her, marking his territory in a way she’d usually chastise him for, but right now she’s grateful for it. Unsettled by the way she’d been looked at, been touched, by a man who was her mother’s friend. Someone who has known her since she was a child. 

“I should get going,” Robert says, his eyes avoiding Aaron’s hard gaze. He smiles at Emily as if the last few minutes hadn’t happened, “Lovely to see you again, Emily.”

Emily and Aaron stay frozen in place as they watch him walk away, and as soon as they are alone she scrunches her face up as she looks at her boyfriend. 

“Now I feel really nauseous,” she complains, sipping her water. 

“I’ll kill him.” 

She smiles at the completely serious look on Aaron’s face, and she knows he means it, and it makes something spark in her belly. 

“As sweet as that is,” she says linking her hand through his, “I’d rather not raise our kid as a single parent whilst you’re in jail.” 

“I’d get away with it,” he grits out, his eyes fixed on the hallway Robert had disappeared down, his fury not dissipating. Emily chuckles and presses a kiss to his cheek.

“Come on Superman, why don’t you take me home.” 

Aaron frowns, his eyebrows knitting together as he looks her up and down, “Are you ok?” 

She shrugs, “I feel like crap, and that…” she looks down the hall Robert had walked down back to the main ballroom, “Whatever that was has killed my resolve to stick it out tonight,” she smiles sadly at him, “If my mom realizes we’ve gone I’ll deal with the consequences tomorrow when she comes over.” 

“You’re sure?” he asks, double-checking. 

She nods, “Positive.” 

He wraps his arms around her and pulls her in for a kiss, leaving his arm around her shoulders as they start to walk towards the exit. 

“Want me to take you somewhere to get food?” 

She grimaces, shaking her head as she deposits her glass of water on a table. The mere thought of eating makes her stomach turn, and she was to swallow back bile. 

“Absolutely not,” she says, looking around to make sure no one would overhear before she carries on, “Your kid seems intent on making sure I never eat again.” 

Aaron chuckles as he kisses the top of her head, “How about we go home, you take off those uncomfortable shoes, and I’ll rub your feet as you fall asleep.” 

“Now that sounds perfect.”

___

She curses under her breath as she looks for the case file that she knew was somewhere on her desk. 

She was running late. She had been all morning ever since she got stuck in traffic after dropping a reluctant Oliver off at daycare. Divide and conquer had always been the way forward ever since they had Rosie, the age difference between her and Ivy enough to mean they always had to be dropped off at different schools. 

Ever since she’d got to work she’d felt like she was behind. She’d missed the morning briefing her current cases, and now she was late for a meeting with the Section Chief. Thankfully, he was very understanding. Largely because she was married to him, and it was his son whose clinginess with her had returned in full force recently. 

When Aaron was prompted to Section Chief, Rosie was just under a year old. It was a job he’d accepted quickly, thrilled at the thought of being at home more, of not being taken away as often as he always had been during his time leading the BAU. Emily started leading the Counterterrorism Unit shortly after he became Section Chief, and for the first time in her career, she worked directly for her husband. At the start, she thought it would be strange, but they worked well together.

“Fuck sake,” she mutters to herself as she pushes documents around on her desk, still unable to find the ones she was looking for. She smiles when her gaze drifts over a family photo she keeps on her desk, a picture of all five of them smiling widely at the camera taken at Ivy’s recent 12th birthday. 

There’s a knock on her door and she doesn’t look up, still scrambling for her paperwork, “Come in,” she says, “Although I’m running late to a meeting so I only have a minute.” 

“Emily.” 

She freezes, her hands coming to a pause on the desk as a voice she hasn’t heard for years, washes over her. 

Emily feels her shoulders tense and her back straighten, walls she hadn’t put up in over a decade flying up immediately. She gives herself a moment, a brief second to pull herself together before she looks up, meeting dark eyes that bore into hers. 

The same dark eyes she’d passed on to her own children. The children the woman opposite her had never met. The children she didn’t know existed. 

Emily clears her throat, and she’s impressed her voice doesn’t shake as she speaks, “Mother, what are you doing here?” 

-x-

Tag List:

@ssa-sparks, @lukeclvez, @lyds102, @glockleveledatyourcrotch, @hotchnissenthusiast, @danadeservesadrink, @ssamorganhotchner, @emilyprentissisgod, @notagentprentiss, @freesiasandfics, @emilyshotchniss, @thecharmingart, @paulitalblond, @hancydrewfan, @camille093, @whitecrossgirl, @moonlight-2-6, @rawr-jess. @florenceremingtonthethird, @jareauswife, @ms-black-a, @beebeelank, @aubreyprc, @zipzapboingg, @psychopath-at-heart, @criminalmindsgonewrong, @fionaloover, @kinqslcys, @prentissinred, @ccmattis-22, @denvivale317, @thrindis, @hotchsguccitie, @cmfouatslota77, @alexblakegf, @aliensaurusrex, @prentissxhotch, @emobabeyy, @victoiregranger, @stormyweatherth, @wanderingdreamer009, @ssablackbird, @luhwithah, @lex13cm, @prentiss-theorem, @dont-emily-me, @mrs-ssa-hotch, @jocyycreation, @itsmytimetoodream, @hotchnissgroupie, @controversialpooh, @capsshinyshield, @canuck-eh

Join my tag list here!

[curiosity-killed]

Fic Writer Interview

Tagged by @veliseraptor right when I turned work notifications off for 2 hours which feels auspicious

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

148 😅

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

1,201,484! For a couple years there, I was kind of cranking but now I basically haven't written fic for two years so uh. chilling at 1.2 million

3. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

This is always mildly upsetting to me because my favorites are rarely the winners lol

a bow for the bad decisions (3536)

willow branches and flowers (2785)

upon this altar (2745)

heart + bone (2090)

whipstitch (2024)

...well at least I like 2 of these lol

4. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I try to! I used to respond to every comment and then got overwhelmed and fell completely behind and THEN decided to clean house and answer all of the remaining ones...and the next day posted heart + bone and now have uh... 688 AO3 emails sitting in my inbox :') I periodically try to go in and answer at least a handful but honestly it's gotten very sporadic

5. What's the fic you've written with the angstiest ending?

Off hesperus! I don't think I write a lot of true angst or tragedies tbh. But that one was meant to be 100% genuine, no happy endings angst. And admittedly it's not AS bad as it could have been but. it is probably as bad as I am likely to write (unfortunately (?), I left my "kill all your fave characters, make everyone suffer, burn it down!!!" writing vibes back in middle school mostly).

6. What's the fic you've written with the happiest ending?

I have so much fluff how am I supposed to pick. ...most of my tgcf fics? heart + bone and sunlight, sunlight, sunlight are pretty absurdly fluffy by the end.

7. Do you write crossovers?

Not really. Back in the olden days (high school/college), I did more—see: whisper something holy, the OG loki fic... I think there were some others?—but it's pretty rare now.

8. Have you ever received hate on a fic?

ehhh not really hate, just some folks who got lost and wound up mad in the comments that *checks notes* local complexity lover let characters be complex. I just turned off anonymous comments for a while and it was fine

9. Do you write smut?

Sometimes! I tend to write (& draw) smut when I'm stuck in a rut (pun sadly not intended), stressed, and struggling to make things which is. something to know about myself. but also means that it often serves as sort of an on ramp to making art that I care about more and so it's often left unfinished.

10. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

I don't think so? I have no idea how I'd know but honestly, I think my writing is enough directed toward my interests/wants that it's not a prime candidate for stealing lol

11. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yes!! it's so cool!! and if she leads was translated into mandarin which!! is bonkers to me that's so much work

12. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

I don't think I've ever actually done it. Isaac (@/lemeute) and I have co-developed a few ideas before but I think they went the way of the raccoon poll and sort of died in discord (though the yanqing AU did contribute to me drawing art!)

13. What's your all-time favorite ship?

Ah I really struggle with this. Really high up there, and probably chief in staying power, is Altair/Malik(/& Maria) and then in terms of ones that have sort of rewritten my brain chemistry it's like Stucky, Cartinelli, Cap2 Crew, Ranwan, Hualian, Destiel...uh I'm definitely missing some there but that's a sampler!

14. What's a WIP that you want to finish but don't think you ever will?

;A; oh god. I mean. a short list:

wulian au

yunmeng jiang everyone dies

bodyswap (mdzs)

light dancer (atla)

I have many more wips but they're in more varying stages of either "I don't actually care that much if I finish these" (all unfinished MCU fics) or "I will actually finish this" (sixteen stitches).

15. What are your writing strengths?

uhhhhhhhhhh i hate this question bc my brain is immediately like "here is a laundry list of everything ur bad at and ALSO ur wrong. abt the things ur good at." bc well. mental wellness. ANYWAY i think I'm like ?? pretty good at creating intensity in writing??? I've talked about it before as viscerality and it is that but also like emotional intensity. and I do think I can craft a pretty turn of phrase here and there

16. What are your writing weaknesses?

well. plot, for one thing. having one? executing one? keeping it consistent without giant holes for everything to fall apart through? nahh. Similarly, continuity overall is! not a strength. Do you know how many notes there are in TCP asking myself to just sketch out a blueprint of the palace where 90% of the first book takes place. can u imagine

there are. more. but i will pause there

17. What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

I think it's something that needs to be done with intent and like. care. like, okay. actually I feel extremely subjective about this. Like on the one hand, I think there are times when I think using another language provides important connotative information that is lost when translating to English* (e.g., Wei Wuxian calling Lan Wangji er-gege or Jiang Yanli shijie which don't have very direct counterparts in English, but also if I were to write about my teacher calling me "chica" rather than "girl"). On the other hand, I think it's very important to be cautious (particularly as a white anglophone) about...like. Seasoning Ur Dialogue with Spicy Bits of Other Languages (I am struck by flashbacks of fanon Lance from VLD. bls.). ON THE THIRD HAND, depending on the POV of the work, writing dialogue in a different language can serve different functions in the text (e.g., if the reader knows what it means but the character doesn't, we can have some nice dramatic irony! when it's done well; if the character knows what it means but the reader doesn't, it can build suspense; if both know what it means, it can give insights into different character dynamics/backgrounds/etc.), but again, it should be done with care and intent.

uh i don't know that this actually answered the question or anything. i have feelings???? and minimally coherent thoughts?

*I am being so brave rn in trying not to go down a rabbithole about translation and meaning ;A;

18. What was the first fandom you wrote for?

Marvel :')

19. What's a fandom/ship you haven't written for yet but want to?

hh hold on i need to go holler at lise and huaqing possibilities

anYWAY yanqing, xianle quartet (variably romantic), erha*, huaqing*, the king's affection**

*technically i've written once for these but like. not fr fr

**I still haven't finished this bc I am inexplicably stressed abt my blorbos suffering but STILL

20. What's your favorite fic you've written?

oh gosh I feel like a broken record bc my fave fics have pretty much been the same for a long time but yeah, of swords and wings is still pretty much my fave largely because, even as it has aged (and I have become more critical of the actual writing), it was so finely tailored to my specific preferences, headcanons, and wants that it still remains quite loved

tagging anyone who wants to do this! (sorry, laziness wins)

[risingscorchingsuns]

THIS IS FASCINATING!!!!

I’ve never thought about Gyomei that way before, but it makes a lot of sense. I always wondered how he could talk about the true nature of children so nonchalantly, saying things that most people would perceive as cruel. I knew he wasn’t saying so judgementally- I’ve never thought about it from the perspective of Buddhism before. I’m also pretty unfamiliar with most religions, but I grew up down the street from a Buddhist monastery and have a basic level of knowledge from that. (That being said, if any of my responses are incorrect in terms of the religion, please do correct me!!! I’m certainly no expert)

It makes a lot of sense for Gyomei’s blunt explanations of humanity, children, and even his own condition to be rooted in his beliefs. His wholehearted blunt acceptance of human nature- the good, the bad, the ugly- makes a lot more sense in that regard. Buddhism, to my knowledge, is widely about the purity of detachment, and how one can understand the world around them better if they let go of earthly desires.

Actually hold up, I have a Buddhist friend, im gonna text her and get her thoughts on this, ill reblog this post with her thoughts when she replies

His Repetitive Action is more than likely a version of meditative detachment- it may even be a coping mechanism for him. (Unsure if it’s a healthy one, but hey it’s wartime) Separating his trauma from himself and focusing in on the feelings of it may be a way for him to avoid dwelling on the events themselves, and consequently his trauma.

I’ve never seen the short chapter about him and the Kocho siblings!!! I’m surprised, I’ll have to look into it!! (Though it’s very possible I just missed it because I mainly fixate on the storylines with Kyojuro in them lmao)

Thinking about it? Holy shit wow. I’m fucking bonkers for the “deeply mistrustful but can’t help but love anyway because it’s the very nature of the character” trope, no im not projecting what are you talking about, and applying that to Gyomei makes so much sense. I just never had words for the depth of it before. It makes so much sense to phrase it the way you did. It breaks my heart a bit to think of his bitterness, but it makes sense that he has it. Anybody would, after what he’s been through. He’s bitter, distrustful, and broken- betrayed by children, widely regarded as the very picture of innocence. But he can’t help but remain gentle, because his softness is his strength he can be proud of. His gentleness is the nature that keeps him grounded, like the stone he molds his body and heart after. He must feel at a constant imbalance, longing for that closeness again but being unable to put aside the pain and trauma of his paranoia and distrust. I wonder how his relationship with Genya affects this side of him?

I’ve also not thought that much about that side of the Ubuyashiki/Muzan parallels, but WOW that makes SO MUCH SENSE. Like, I know their whole characters are meant to be direct parallels, but I never thought about Kagaya leading the Corps being a motivation contrast to Muzan and his demons. It seems so obvious in retrospect but it just never occurred to me!!! Kagaya leading the Corps is a direct contrast of Muzan leading his demons seems like such an obvious connection I just never saw before??? dude im gonna be thinking on this for a minute lol. They have the same face, but the difference is that one leads by fear and conquest, and the other leads by charisma and purpose. To some extent the Corps are Kagaya’s pawns, but the difference between him and Muzan is that he treasures every individual Slayer like his own child, learning every one of their names and visiting every one of their graves until he physically could no longer make the journey, while Muzan simply sees his subordinates as disposable. It makes so much sense that his charisma is derived from purpose.

I’ve always been a little bit insane about how all the Hashira, despite coming from such VASTLY different backgrounds that they almost certainly wouldn’t get along underneath other circumstances, (I think a lot about how Kyojuro and Tengen are like. Opposites when it comes to their backgrounds- shinobi and samurai have traditionally very different honor systems and they would likely fervently disagree if neither of them were in the Corps, or if Tengen had remained a shinobi.) I’ve always liked thinking about how unanimously they unite underneath Kagaya, and they all fervently respect him, and fight seamlessly beside one another underneath him. That’s the common denominator, the variable I never quite put my finger on!!! It’s purpose!!! Kagaya gives every one of the Hashira a purpose, and in turn gives every single warrior in the Demon Slayer Corps purpose. For Kyojuro, it’s legacy- the chance to prove himself to his father, the ability to use his strength as his mother wished him to, to protect those who cannot and prove himself worthy. For Tengen it’s freedom, and the opportunity to live his life on his own terms, reclaiming his morals, his abilities, his life on his own accord. For muichiro it’s regaining his memories, and his sense of self. I’d do all the hashira but frankly that’s probably a separate rant post on its own because im getting way too excited about this lol

But for Gyomei, Kagaya gives him a way out of the guilt, the grief, the trauma, the everything. Being a Hashira gives him a chance to repent for the guilt of not being able to protect, the opportunity to use the strength that disgusts him for a better purpose? Is that about right? I really wanna understand this to a deeper degree!! Goddd this is SO COOL to think about. It’s so amazing how many variables you never even thought about pop up when you share your thoughts with someone else. Thank you so much for your thoughts, this input is really inspiring!!! I’d love to hear your feedback on this ramble if you’d like, but there’s no pressure!!! I’m genuinely just having fun rambling lol

I’m sorry, this post got WAY longer than I meant it to im just having so much fun analyzing lmao

This is so good- thank you SO MUCH for sharing your thoughts!!! I feel like I understand Gyomei in a way that I didn’t previously, and I’m so glad to give you the opportunity to ramble about your fav!!! Please do so whenever you like writing this response literally made my whole night lmao

Gyomei Character Thoughts

I'm not good at tumblr but it's a response to @risingscorchingsuns thoughts about the latest KnY episode. So I have a lot of thoughts about Gyomei, he’s been a fixation for about 2 years now and no outlet haha, so buckle up for a lot of word vomit!

In response to your question of why he continues to fight:

Gyomei likely kept fighting because he was given the opportunity to repent for his inability to protect his loved ones during a time when they needed him most. That opportunity came in the form of Ubuyashiki.  

The fascinating thing about Ubuyashiki is his charisma and ability to charm others, which in a way, mirrors Muzan’s own abilities.  Muzan can take one look at a person and see both their deepest desires and despairs, and sweetens the poison by promising their desires are achievable through loyalty to him and the power he lends them.  I feel like Ubuyashiki has a similar power to understand another person so completely and charm them, (I mean look how the hashira mirror the upper moons by having utter devotion to their masters, but the hashira are never frightened of Ubuyashiki), but instead of feeding them poison, he gives them a purpose.  He can charm others, yes, but his sincerity and leadership is what inspire the demon slayer corps to exist and keep their goal of destroying all demons.  Anyway, I feel that Gyomei would have felt that same devotion to Ubuyashiki and the cause.  

I think in order to understand Gyomei, one must understand Buddhism and its core beliefs.  The chanting, the beads, the fact he was raising kids in a temple makes it apparent that Gyomei is a follower of Buddhism, more specifically, Pure Land Buddhism.  It must have been difficult for Gyomei to survive himself, as he was a child when he lost his vision to fever.  Most likely he was cared for by other buddhist monks and he continued to follow their teachings.  

This is where it gets really difficult for me because I’m not super familiar with Buddhism but I’m trying my best here lol

Some teachings of Pure Land Buddhism that I can see through Gyomei is the concept of accepting the human condition/ Three Minds. Of the Three minds, the “Utterly Sincere Mind” is the ideal of living free of social embarrassment, manipulation, and pretense, while the “Profound Mind” is a deeper understanding of the dependent nature of humans and a greater appreciation for the protection that Buddha provides.  By accepting the frailty of humans, one finds greater refuge in Buddha and a path to enlightenment.  Indeed, Gyomei spends much of the episode explaining the innocent, selfish, and sometimes cruel nature of children without judgment.  He also is readily able to explain his own condition, how he wanted appreciation from Sayo and his current state of being distrustful of others.   

His distrust is also fascinating too.  There’s a short written chapter from Shinobu and Gyomei’s POV, set in the months after Gyomei rescued Shinobu and Kanae from a demon.  They entreat Gyomei to teach them but he refuses, so they refuse to leave.  During the story, it's often mentioned how he no longer wanted anything to do with children, and how suspicious he is of the Kocho kids reaching out to him.  But it's also written how his heart is constantly moved by them, but he’s afraid of getting involved or too close with them. 

I think that’s the most tragic thing about Gyomei’s character that isn't discussed very often: at his core he is kind, gentle, and loving to the point of foolishness- but the demon also tainted that part of him with feelings of insecurity and paranoia.  He wonders if the Kocho siblings also think he is a monster, or if they are hurt by his intentionally cold words.  And if we want to be very corny, Gyomei tries to harden his heart like stone, but little bits of his true character seep through because he doesn’t send the kids away.  He bitterly acknowledges how it has become a warped family role play, and tries his best to crush their determination to become slayers by giving them an almost impossible task (spoiler alert, they have big brains lol).  But his trauma is still readily apparent in how he repeatedly and anxiously reminds the siblings to set the wisteria incense when he has to leave his house.

Anyway this is getting really long and I have to eat dinner, so I’m ending my ramblings here lol

[dumpsterbooks]

Bookbinding Thread Options

In my soon-to-be ongoing series of "components of bookbinding", here are some options for thread and a discussion of why different options might work better or worse for your book.

Thread is used to sew signatures together. The thread used for bookbinding needs to do several things:

Be small enough to thread into a needle to poke through the signature holes

Be large enough so that it doesn't slice through the paper after repeated page turnings

Be strong enough so that it doesn't break when subjected to wear from the paper after repeated page turnings. If you are using a binding that leaves the threads exposed (such as Coptic binding), this goes double

Let's start off with S-tier bookbinding thread, and then discuss what's possible to skimp on. (note: None of the links are affiliate links. I am not making money on these recommendations. Links are provided merely for illustration purposes.)

This is Irish Linen Bookbinding Thread, from Talas (a well-respected bookbinding supplier).

Linen is used because it is an extremely tough, long-staple fiber. Linen withstands wear much better than cotton. This particular thread comes pre-waxed with just enough wax to make it strong and prevent it from untwisting, but not so much that it's sticky to work with. It comes in multiple thicknesses. However, one spool of this will set you back between $13 and $24, and while it will last you a while, that's still a pretty hefty chunk of change, so let's look at alternatives.

Alternative #1: Sewing Thread

Sewing thread is a very common option.

Pros

Commonly available, even at places like Walmart

Significantly cheaper

Many people already have some

Cons

Varies widely in quality, and therefore in durability. Cheap polyester thread is not going to hold up to nearly as much wear as high quality cotton thread

Thinner than much bookbinding threads. I'm not going to get into thread weights here (I looked it up to try and give some recommendations but it turns out that thread sizing is bonkers and kind of complicated) but because it's thinner, it has the dual problems of potentially cutting through your paper, and wearing out sooner.

Does not come pre-waxed.

Some solutions for these problems

Double or quadruple your thread when you sew with it. Luckily, unlike other types of hand sewing, it's very easy to sew in short chunks, knot in new pieces of thread, and hide knots where they can't be seen, so you don't have to use long, tangly, unwieldy pieces.

Wax your thread. You can buy straight up chunks of beeswax for pretty cheap (plus it has lots of other uses!), or you can buy those little "thread magic" or "thread waxer" items at craft stores.

Don't buy the absolute cheapest thread. I know this is a post about cheap thread alternatives but it's better to buy one spool of good thread than a big box of dogshit thread. (ask me how I know)

Alternative #2: Embroidery Floss

Pros

Also commonly available

Thicker

Comes in lots of fun colors, which is nice for exposed-stitching binding styles

Can also be used for making your own decorative endbands, embroidering your covers, and other fun bookbinding-related activities

Cons

Not as cheap as sewing thread

Not necessarily manufactured for tensile strength since embroidery isn't usually put under a lot of stress

Unwaxed

Solutions

Make sure you only use cotton embroidery floss, not rayon or wool

Make sure to wax it with beeswax

Alternative #3: Waxed Dental Floss

Make sure that you are getting thread based dental floss, NOT plastic based dental floss!!

Do NOT get this stuff:

The stuff you are looking for will say "waxed" on it.

Pros

Cheap

Readily Available

Already Waxed

Manufactured to stand up to abrasion

Cons

May be hard to find unflavored

Archival Quality unknown, potentially not the best

Long term strength unknown - while it is meant to stand up to quite a bit of short term abrasion via the teeth, it is also a one-use product in most cases.

Solutions

Know what you're getting into

Use for beginning and testing purposes, so you can get the hang of skills before committing more expensive materials

Use for smaller sizes of books

[zaffrenotes]

[ROD] When You Say Nothing At All

When You Say Nothing At All - 00-00 - You’re All I Want

Series Summary: After Jin and Logan seemingly part ways for good, she heads to the East Coast to begin a new chapter of her life at Langston. While she forgave Logan for The Lie, she was never ready to let him go, and neither is he. Can they repair their relationship with miles between them? Pairing: Logan x MC (Jin) Series Rating/Warnings: 18+; language; series will include ns*w 🍋 scenes Chapter Rating/Warnings: T Author’s Note: * All main characters belong to Pixelberry, I’m just borrowing them * I had a bonkers idea to write an i-don’t-know-how-many-parts series for @rodappreciationweek that also reflects the Time Capsule challenge * This is an ambitious AU to my Mixtapes Side A & Hidden Track series, where Jin chose Logan. It begins a few months after the canon events in RoD concluded (my Choices math guesstimates July 2018 for this series), and will span roughly 12 years into the future * It will also include prompts from 50 Wordless Ways to Say “I Love You” and a little literary 🥚 for kicks * A/N 2: * I meant to post this earlier for Logan's Day, but like everything else I write it got away from me * Includes a very old Friends/Joey prompt from @ofpixelsandscribbles * chapter title is from a Cigarettes After Sex track * Word Count: ±1000 (4 minutes reading time)

Taglist (please let me know if you'd like to be added or removed for updates on this series): @ao719 @burnsoslow @gkittylove99 @neotericthemis ofpixelsandscribbles @rainbowsinthestorm @superharriet @the-soot-sprite @choiceskatie @jaqren @choicesarehard @client-327 @queenjilian @saivilo @its-all-about-rod @bitchloveskcbaseball @lovehugsandcandy @troublemakerinspace

2019

Logan took all of Jin’s words to heart, keeping the phone tucked away in a lockbox. He added the key to a new chain around his neck, not only for safekeeping, but to remind himself of what he was working towards. Days passed into weeks, then months; Logan only noticed the passage of time by the weather. He had to buy a real coat to keep himself warm, and decent boots to keep slushy, snowy pathways from freezing his toes.

He tried writing letters to Jin, only to burn the half-inked pages over the stove, messy words curling and fading into the air. Dozens of e-mails mocked him from a screen, clumsy apologies disappearing into the void with a few abrupt taps. Every time he tried to get the words out, it didn’t feel like it was enough.

By March, Logan was absolutely miserable. Winter had been a good excuse to ignore how long his hair had grown out, hidden under knit caps and beanies, or tied back in ponytails. His usually high-maintenance locks morphed into a mess of natural curls and waves as a result. The somewhat scrappy beard that appeared on his face protected him from biting Chicago winds as he commuted to and from work on the train, but he wasn’t sure if he wanted to keep it when the weather eventually warmed up.

The garage where he lined up a job didn’t ask too many questions; most of the guys were in AA and could tell he had his own demons to deal with. The owner knew someone from Logan’s old crew in Detroit and put in a good word for him. The place was just a few blocks from the L, and after a week of navigating his beloved Devore through the pasta strainer streets of downtown Chicago, taking the train actually worked out to be kinder to his wallet.

He woke up one morning, completely disgusted with his appearance. Even though it was his day off and he had no plans, Logan made his way to the bathroom and stood in front of the sink, staring at his reflection in the mirror. He grabbed the electric clippers from one of the drawers and trimmed his beard down as short as he could, letting the wiry black hair collect in the sink as his jawline slowly unsurfaced with each pass. He scooped the hair into the trash before taking a long shower. The hot water soaked through the mess of curls in his hair and down his back, rivulets splitting and reconnecting down his legs as they made their way to the drain.

Showered and dressed, he set to work cleaning up the small studio space that he called home, tossing out old takeout and empty pizza boxes. He organized his small collection of books in a crate, taking care to set the book Jin had given to him on top. After lunch, Logan stripped the sheets and pillows of their bedding and stuffed them into a duffel bag along with his dirty clothes, making his way to a laundromat.

Once his laundry was washed and dried, Logan stuffed everything back into the duffel bag and tossed it into the back seat of his trusty Devore, before walking a few yards away to the strip mall barbershop. He exchanged a silent chin nod greeting with his barber, who was working on another customer, and grabbed an empty seat. As he tapped through apps on his phone to read the news and look at memes, he listened to the conversations happening around him. Two older men were jokingly giving each other a hard time as they played cards, while a small group of teens jumped from sports to comics to discussing dates for an upcoming dance. He wondered if Jin had gone to any dances since prom, and his heart twinged at the thought of her dancing with someone else.

When his barber eventually called his name, Logan rose from the faded vinyl seat and pulled the knit cap off his head as he approached the empty chair. They exchanged pleasantries, not without some teasing about his disheveled appearance since his last visit before the leaves had changed colors. As his barber worked on making him look more like a young man and less like someone who’d been raised by wolves, conversation drifted between work, racing, and girls.

All of Logan’s responses were short by nature; his work involved tune-ups and oil changes. He’d done a little racing on the side for extra cash until it got too cold and the roads were too slick. He could race under any conditions, but black ice was one of the few things he wouldn’t go up against. As for befriending someone of the fairer sex, he shrugged his shoulders in between hair snips.

“Girl problems, son?” The barber at the station to Logan’s left had chimed in to the conversation. “You’re too young to have a broken heart.”

“She was one in a million,” Logan replied, glancing over to the elder man. “No one else shines as bright as she does. What am I gonna do? I keep trying to get rid of these feelings, but they’re just…there.”

“She tell you what she needs to fix it?”

“I know what it’d take,” Logan huffed. “I just…I can’t really give that to her right now.” How can he be in her life when he’s nearly one thousand miles away?

“Why the hell not, son? Seventeen years with my missus has taught me you end up somewhere between option A and option B. If she’s the one, find a way to meet halfway.”

The conversation ended when the card game sparked a disagreement, diverting attention to the noise at the front of the shop. Something clicked in Logan’s brain, and once his barber finished up, he left the barbershop, heading home with renewed hope.

[harrysweasleys]

a little sunshine never hurt // d.m

Summary: hi alexa!!! if your requests are still open, could i request a draco x reader fic? in it’s the first day of holidays/vacation and the reader and draco are best friends who (obviously) have feelings for the other but think the other doesn’t like them that way, and they’re having a picnic at malfoy manor, relaxing in the sun reading or doing homework and draco just blurts it and confession + kiss?? if you can’t there’s no problem! thanks 🥰💓

Warnings: mentions of food! also v v short but v v sweet (also not proofread/edited so pls dont come @ me)

Word count: 1.9k

a/n: yikes, so completely ignore my message about not posing a fic before christmas because here i am, posting another fic before christmas. hope you all enjoy!!! xx [I DO NOT GIVE CONSENT OR PERMISSION FOR MY WORK TO BE REPOSTED ON ANY OTHER PLATFORM!]

— ���

Ah, finally summer break.

The start of the holidays meant that you’d now have a good months time to catch up on rest, relaxation, and obviously, assignments. Though you usually disliked the prospect of doing homework while on vacation, you couldn’t help but feel a little thankful at the fact that you now had something to keep your mind laced on magic while you were away from Hogwarts. 

Though you were staying with Draco for the first two weeks — where magic was very much present — you still liked to learn. You liked to keep that ever-growing passion for the magical arts, and you were most likely going to finish every single project within the first week of the break.

Draco, however, had different thoughts.

“Bloody ridiculous,” he scoffed, raising his hand to move his blond bangs out of his face, “Giving out homework while we’re on break? What kind of git does that?”

“Those are your professors, Draco,” you grinned, turning to face him, squinting slightly in the blinding sunlight, “Have a little respect, yeah?”

He rolled his eyes, laying back down on the freshly mowed lawn, his dark clothing most likely scorching his skin under the blazing afternoon sun, “Is giving out homework a show of respect? I don’t think so.”

You leaned up on your elbows, a fresh summer breeze rolling through and pushing your hair over your shoulder. It wasn’t necessarily a cold breeze, but it did cause you to let out a small shiver. Draco’s eyes followed you as you sat up properly, crossing you legs and reaching into the tiny basket that carried your snacks.

He had asked you to share a picnic lunch with him today, which came as a bit of an odd question, to be honest. A picnic? You knew Draco wasn’t the kind of person to ‘enjoy the fresh air’ so it was a little bit of a strange request coming from him, to be honest. But there was no bloody way you’d complain. An outdoor lunch with him meant that you got to spend more time one on one — it meant that you’d get to continue seeing the side of him that he chose not to show anyone else.

He was quite a complex fellow, if you were to be honest. In school, he closed himself off. He hid away from the world and kept his cold exterior up, not daring to let anyone in. You had gotten through to him — after trying for multiple years, of course — but there really was nothing better than seeing him as relaxed as he was when he was home. Maybe ‘relaxed’ isn’t the proper term; but he did have a totally different air. Less arrogant, less obnoxious, and definitely less pompous. 

It didn’t help your ever-blossoming crush in the slightest.

“Can you toss me an apple?” he asked, now mimicking your position and crossing his legs as well. His knee brushed against yours, and even though you were both clothed, you felt a jolt of sparks rush through your body. 

You let out a small cough to clear your throat, ���Sure.”

Completely forgetting whatever it was that you were looking for in the first place, you tossed him the bright green apple that he had insisted on bringing to lunch. You were surprised that the Malfoy family didn’t decide to grow their own apple trees, to be honest, with how often Draco would scavenge the pantries for the perfect one to eat, they’d most likely be better off by growing some in their own vast yard.

“What are your plans for the summer, then?” he asked, taking a big bite, crunching loudly and closing his eyes as he craned his head up to look at the sky. 

Your mouth went dry at the sight of him, his defined jawline and smooth neck looking sharper than ever under the bright sunlight, casting shadows around the base of his neck. His platinum hair hurt your eyes to look at, but even then, you’d love nothing more than to run your hands through it. While he rested his head on your lap, while you made out in bed, while you —

“Are you ignoring me?” he snapped your attention back to reality with the low chuckle in his throat.

“No. No, sorry, just got caught in a daydream,” you turned away from him, hiding the growing redness on your cheeks before trying your best to play it off, “I don’t really have plans for the remainder of summer, honestly. Just taking it one day at a time.”

You laid back down on the grass next to him, resting your arm at your side and brushing your fingers against Draco’s. Your heart jolted and you tried to quickly pull your hand away, but you felt his finger twitch against your skin, his pinky finger locking with yours.

It was as if you totally forgot to breathe.

“I’m happy to have you here,” he said softly, placing the unfinished apple down on top of the closed basket, giving you his undivided attention, “I’m gonna miss you when you leave.”

You could hardly think straight, but you couldn’t give in to his charm that easily. He’d only tease you for the rest of the break, wouldn’t he? But, it was hard not to give in. His finger was awfully soft locked with yours, and you could feel both the heat from his body next to you, on top of your own body temperature spiking. It was way too warm to be in the sunshine.

“I’m happy to be here, too,” you replied, voice awfully quiet. You were almost sure he didn’t hear you, but the way that his hand gave yours a little squeeze, you knew that he did. 

You two were often on the same page, it was rare he didn’t know exactly how you were feeling. And it was rare that you didn’t know exactly how he was feeling. Right now was one of those rare moments. You couldn’t tell if he was honestly just pleased to have you here — mostly to help him deal with his pain in the ass father — or if this was something more. More than friendship, more than just... platonic. You couldn’t tell what he was feeling and it was driving you absolutely bonkers.

How could you even begin to ask him? Could you even ask? How would that go?

“Hey, Draco, I think I like you.” Pathetic, really. What a way to embarrass yourself.

You felt his hand give yours another squeeze, “You alright?”

Turning to face him, you thought that it was now or never. When would you get another moment of privacy with him like this? Where you could tell him the truth without the possibility of being overheard? 

To weight the pros and cons; if he felt the same, you guys could get the next little while together before going your separate ways for the remainder of the holidays. But if he didn’t, you’d have to deal with the brutal awkwardness of spending the next ten days with him, knowing that your feelings were one sided. Then, you’d have to see him again once returned to school. It wasn’t a very balanced list, in your opinion.

“I’m fine,” you turned to face him, forcing a small smile. 

As mentioned before, Draco could always tell how you were feeling. Which is why he pulled his hand from yours, turning over on his side to look at you. With furrowed eyebrows and concerned written across his features, you wanted nothing more than to peel your eyes away from him and completely ignore his gaze. But that was nearly impossible. It’s hard to look away from Draco Malfoy.

“Something tells me you’re lying,” he said softly, eyes scanning your face as if he could read your emotions written into your skin — as if the light freckles dotting your cheeks could give him the answers he was looking for.

You sucked in a deep breath, feeling the expansion of your lungs in your chest — it felt as if you were going to crush your heart any second now. Quite an unpleasant feeling, really.

“I’m not lying,” you said, voice cracking as you spoke. The worst possible lie. There was no way he’d believe that. 

He scoffed lightly, “So you’re just going to ignore your feelings then, yeah?”

It was now your turn to sit up, leaning against one of your elbows as you turned your body to face him. His cheeks were tinted with a pale shade of pink, most likely from the burning sun. It was a rather warm afternoon for summer in England. 

“What feelings?” you asked, averting your eyes, choosing to stare at an ant crawling slowly up a blade of grass. Not fascinating, but better than giving in to Draco. 

“Y/N,” one of his hands reached over and touched your chin, lightly tilting it so you could turn your head up and face him, “I asked you to a picnic today so we could be alone, you know?”

You finally looked over to him, eyes scanning from the base of his throat, slowly up to meet his eyes, “Why?”

“Well, I thought I was being bloody obvious,” he grinned, “I like being alone with you.”

“But why?” you sounded like a child

His laugh was taunting you — effortless and relaxed. Completely juxtaposed to the raging storm of emotions going through your heart and head. How he could say something like that; so heavy and heartfelt, to acting like it was nothing, you could never understand.

“Because,” he scooted closer, his hand leaving your chin, but coming to rest atop of yours, “I don’t know how much clearer I can make this, but I like you.”

You looked over at him, eyes wide and mouth gaped open like a fish. You must look like a bloody idiot, but there was really no other way to respond to that. He liked you back. All this time, he liked you back. And you genuinely had no idea.

There were really no words you could say in response, so you decided on showing him how you felt instead,  placing your hand at the back of his neck and bringing his lips to yours. They were incredibly warm — possibly from the sun — and soft. Softer than the grass beneath your skin, and sweeter than the chocolates melting in the basket by your feet. He tasted like mint and green apple, a mixture that felt odd when spoken, but tasted like heaven when experienced.

You felt him mumble against your lips, “I’ll take it you feel the same way?”

Pulling away to let out a small laugh, you nodded your head, “If it wasn’t obvious, yes.”

“Just making sure,” he gave you a lopsided grin, his hand cupping your cheek to connect his lips to yours once again. 

— — —

taglist (message me to be added!)

@grierpilots @hxfflxpxffs @mikumana @msmimimerton @pit-and-the-pen @diary-of-an-onliner @theweirdsideofstuff @thoseofgreatambition @theweasleysredhair @haphazardhufflepuff @starlightweasley @mytreec @thisismysketchbook  @valwritesx @vogueweasley @hufflrpuffforfred @phuvioqhile @marvelettesassemble @shadowsinger11 @breadqueen95 @hahee154hq @ickle-ronniekins @beiahadid @mymessedupbrain49

[fruitsofhell]

Because this post is a banger in my heart I wanted to reiterate on the style thing. Specifically actually, I wanted to show off some examples of black characters/features presented in the mid-century modernist style I found in a recent book I read (which gave me those terms):

These are simply in order of me finding them in the book. If you're familiar with what I meant about the rubberhose/center-line style and how it is built for blackface it's so fun to look at how this new approach to cartooning opened up so many opportunities for ways to draw black characters. But even so, as with the first and third ones, you can see there's room for old stereotypes; A new way to draw racist old gags.

My absolute favorite is that last guy, he is so fucking perfect. He's just a piece of concept art for an abandoned cartoon by a Storyboard studios, but he is immaculate. He is so mild and soft and handsome. Even compared to his contemporaries on this post he is like decades ahead in terms of design - undoubtedly black in features and shapes but doesn't go for the obvious or stereotypical traits of exaggeration like the lips. He looks so confidentially and comfortably designed it's kind of bonkers. I even wanted to frame him around his co-stars cause just look at how well he fits in with the line up as Just Another Lad, and not *The Black Man*. Like that's a character I would expect to be designed today, and it's so sweet to see.

Still for this stellar track record (compared to the center-line style), I can't overstate how sparse these designs are in a sea of that generic big-nose designs that aaaaaaall these studios used. It's a eurocentric sensibility and honestly the biggest challenge of trying to design a black character for this style at its most common. For example of what I mean, here's the art chosen for the cover of this book:

This is what 80% of characters resemble in this style.

So unless you go for the more conventional and less abstract styles (as the Proud Family would), you could otherwise try something like the gentleman reading the newspaper in that UPA cartoon, where he still has that big ole shnozz but it has a recognizably black shape to it on top of his skintone. One of my first introductions to UPA actually was their Brotherhood of Man short, where they simply portrayed every "race" as the same big-nose guy design with different colors. Led to some funny use of yellow and red, but next to the use of stark-white and pitch-black I think it's... fair enough. ESPECIALLY when considering the idea that the short then does not rely on typical offensive caricatures, it was just trying to be efficient in communication.

Eitherway, I think it's funny that when trying to use the generic rubberhose style, it's a struggle to make a black character without falling into the abundant pitfall of blackface, while with the modernist style there is such an absence of black features in the generic style you struggle to fit them into that big-nose shape. This is why the Cuphead artists were fucking GENIUSES in their research, and the fact they made a very unique but still loyal rubberhose character in Cuphead and Mugman deserves an award, their competition didn't.

But I am really thankful to the inherent diversity of design of the 50s and even JUST within UPA, cause it means when I started trying to replicate it, I didn't feel pressured to emulate something specific, but try to get to the roots of their sensibilities. It is something that has helped my art so much its incalculable honestly.

This is my secret essay to tell you to learn about the early history of US cartoons if you see yourself as being influenced by any of the styles. And to be wary of how cartoons reflect historical sensibilities and shape popular ideas about the world through "light-hearted" comedic imagery.

CW for an anti-black slur cause it's the name of a damn movie title, also mentions of historical racism in cartoons

Get really pissed off whenever I think about Coonskin by Ralph Bakshi because I need to rewatch it to see if it might be a fave movie of mine. I want to go over all of Bakshi's filmography sometime and really digest how he deals with depicting black people (especially Fritz the Cat cause the black crows are so cute!), cause he's in an interesting perspective where he is undoubtably sympathetic to us and grew up around us, but expresses this in ways that are soooo over the top we commonly see them now as only acceptable For A Black Person To Do.

Like, he's some white Jewish guy from the slums, he doesn't really have the right to reclaim the racist iconography as we think of it but at the same time it's like if someone's doing interesting artistic work they're doing interesting work. And I as a black person have actually been really inspired by that film ever since I watched it.

Ever since the rubber hose style became super hot again cause of Cuphead and Bendy I've seen people actively downplay how goddamn racist old cartoons were, or I've seen people pick up a clip from an old film and I just go "Chat, they don't know this is a quietly racist animation trend...". But it's not even just that old cartoons were racist and had racist trends, it was baked into their fundamental styles of comedy and cartooning - they were built to either exclude or humiliate blackness. And I feel like Coonskin is a work that expresses that very very loudly but with some sense of purpose.

I personally have wanted to tap into that idea since I started playing with golden age art styles, but for the tone I set in my shit that's way too overbearing. Plus, maybe as an actual black person something unique for me and not Bakshi is a wish to actually see myself represented in those old cartoon styles as more than as an object of controversy. I've also been meaning to watch more of the Proud family and works by Bruce W. Smith cause of that too, I heard in an interview he was motivated to draw because he wanted to see black folks in that mid-century, modernist style and like, SAME.

But it's actually way easier to work black features into that incredibly flexible style than it is to brute force them into the centerline/rubberhose ones where their origins can be traced back TO BLACKFACE. You guys remember that fucking lesson right? How the entire generic rubbergose face is a play on blackface, that's why the mouths and eyes are white but the body is black. If you're unfamiliar with that idea or don't believe it, look up Bosko, Warner Bros first attempt at a mascot, and see if you can tell what he's supposed to be.

It's more of an uphill battle, but not impossible to make it work in those styles. Though I have also considered the utility of borrowing directly from those racist designs to express a meta-contextual feeling/understanding that that is what you look like as a black person in this time period - that is you in the dominant narrative vision of the time. No matter what you are as a black person, to the historical zeitgeist you just appear as some flavor of coon yknow.

It could be a very potent visual tool I think, and I don't know if I'd be considering that if not for Bakshi and my relationship to Coonskin and its themeing. Which is the point, Bakshi was one of those racey types who always wanted to get people upset to start a convo or whatever. It's interesting to look at older but earnest expressions of this that would seem disastrous by today's standards - imagine "They couldn't make Blazing Saddles today" but true and on steroids.

[toadallytickles]

I really want to start posting myself in the tickle community but I’m nervous if people find me ugly? I feel like In the community everyone likes flat stomachs or skinny girls and I’m bigger so I’m nervous no ler will ever want me 😓😓

Aww.. I’m really sorry to hear you feel that way and hold onto that fear. Those feelings are so valid as we have a lack of body diversity in tickle media. I may not have the right words to completely comfort you as I am a smaller person and don’t relate in that way. I can relate with the fear of being considered ugly by others as I grew up feeling ugly, being mixed race and noticeably hairy.

You are definitely desired though! Online we see a lot of models in tickle videos- but the real tickle community is made up of many body shapes and sizes; young, old, big, small, disabled. You see a big diversity of body types in the in-person community! And these people play! There are Lers that play with bigger lees! I have mutuals and friends on here and on Fetlife who are bigger and get tickle play! At events it’s about who you are as a person and how you treat the community. Just being your lovely self, and kind, and approachable, and respectful will make you connections and play partners! Anyone idiotic enough to voice negativity towards someone else simply won’t be welcomed back.

It’s valid to want to be accepted and liked and desired! And it does feel really good to get a lot of notes and online attention! It’s really fun too! Though don’t make this your main source of validation. The amount of notes you get, your popularity online, and how others perceive you online isn’t a reflection of your worth!

Not everyone is into short-haired masculine people, not everyone is attracted to me, and there are people who don’t like me personally. And that’s okay! I’m not for everyone! Just as not everyone is for me! It’s just human nature! Where your focus should be is on those people and friends who take the time to give you positive attention and compliments, and make you feel good! They know you and like you for you. Give them your energy and time. People meant for you will gravitate towards your online presence and personality!

A way you can validate yourself and build up your self-esteem is by following content creators that have a similar body type as you! They get positive attention and people going absolutely bonkers for them; you’ll get the same~. You’re free to curate your dash! And don’t be shy or nervous to block people!

And sorry for using this language, but fuck anyone who voices negativity towards you! Anyone who spreads negativity and brings others down are very likely the lurkers not getting any play! Gee, I wonder why! Or one of my favourite quotes, “hurt people hurt people.” Don’t let random internet strangers you’re never going to meet bring you down! This community can be fun! But it’s not worth ruining your mental health over!

A reminder that it’s your blog and your space! If you want to post photos because you want to, go right ahead! Everyone else is simply a guest!

[eroticintestines]

hey it's me again,can you do if you want a fic or headcanons about byron x reader as if the reader were his wife idk (btw I loved your headcanons of poco y primo)

I got two requests for Byron, so I'm going to merge them together into one post!

( Headcanons )

🐍🖤( BYRON )🖤🐍

- He most definitely would not be the one to confess first. He's full of himself and a can get quite nervous around the person he likes.

- It's not like he hasn't tried confessing yet, he just always found himself stumbling over his words and not being able to express himself properly.

- He's angry at himself for being so shy when he's meant to be very professional and confident.

- So to say that he's overjoyed when you confess to him is an overstatement.

- "Oh, my dear, I saw that coming from a mile away~" he says with full confidence. But it's a lie, he didn't see anything, he was too busy worrying if you even liked him or not.

- Not the guy for public affection but won't pass up an opportunity to hold your hand when you're walking with him. His hands are usually very cold, so he appreciates the warmth of your own.

- Very cocky and confident in himself, even when you see him set a bowl of cereal on fire. Nobody knows how he did it, but man does he suck at cooking.

- He's got everything you need- do you feel sick? Is your head hurting? Are you fatigued? He's going to make sure you feel better as soon as possible. He worries all too much about your health and your wellbeing.

- He's constantly following you around in matches and making sure you're being healed. Whenever you turn around and give him that smile of gratitude, he becomes all flustered. He tries to play it off with a cocky grin, but blow him a kiss and he won't know how to act.

- He's constantly the one to throw people stuff or even gift them, usually getting nothing in return, so he especially loves gifts. He doesn't want you to buy him something everyday, but he appreciates small things you get him just to say thank you or to show how much you love him.

- He's constantly insisting to buy you jewelry, even if you deny it. He doesn't want you to spend even a penny on him, but he'll rob a bank for you. Absolutely crazy. Feral husband.

- Be feral with him. Put snakes into someone's bag and laugh at their reaction. Commit crimes with him while holding his hand. Feral couple. Bonkers. Go crazy go stupid.

- Really likes listening to oldies with you. An occasional Elvis Presley song or "put your head on my shoulder" playing as you talk to the love of your life never hurt anyone.

- With that being said, he loves talking to you in general. He will sit down with you and listen to your problems while you hopefully listen to his as well. He's got a lot on his mind.

- He has at least 5 pet snakes. He's named every single one and is very attached to them. He would be very happy if you pet or held them, but he understand if you're too afraid to do so. He'll get you used to then one way or another.

- He's got a messed up sleeping schedule. He stays up in the night and somehow still manages to wake up at 7 am. He says he doesn't need that much sleep but you can literally see him accidentally run into a wall. What a mess.

(these were a bit short because I'm

very busy atm, so sorry about that!

[witch-without-gender]

I have NEWS y’all

I lit a candle earlier today and the flame went absolutely bonkers, like dangerously tall, for a few seconds and then calmed down. I was like “okay who the fuck?” and immediately asked if someone was trying to communicate with me. The flame flickered a ton and so I established a yes and a no and long story short, the Norse god of poetry and music, Bragi, was trying to warn me about Loki. I put the candle out without clarifying what his warning meant (bc I was frazzled and didn’t think to ask) and went for a walk.

Now, I had gone for a walk the previous day too and saw an 8 of Spades just on the sidewalk. It really stuck out to me so I looked it up and it was a general warning sign. When I went for my walk after the candle thing happened, I saw another card I had somehow missed the day before. 8 of Diamonds, associated with unpredictable energy. I’m freaking out at this point right? So I get back home and I’m asking some witches I know for help and someone suggested I do a tarot reading and ask my deities or spirit guides for help.

So I cast a circle in my room, only allowed in Bragi (in case he wanted to clarify), Freyja, and any guardians I have. I relit the candle from before but not much happened this time. I lit another apple and its flame was going absolutely bonkers. I eventually put it out because I asked if there was anyone trying to talk to me and it just didn’t change how it was flickering so I assumed there was just a weird breeze or something. More on that one later.

I asked Freyja to guide my tarot reading and I asked three questions and drew one card for each. I asked for confirmation that it was Bragi I spoke with (it was), I asked what Bragi could have been warming me about (it was hard to explain the answer, but I know what it means), and I asked what Loki could want with/from me (inner battles).

As I was interpreting these cards, the candle Bragi used to speak with me started flickering. I established a yes and no and it was Bragi again. I told him about my tarot readings and asked questions to understand what exactly his warning was about. Long story short, Loki wants to work with me and help me with my shadow work (which I just decided I would delve into this morning), and Bragi was warning me not about Loki bringing me harm or anything, but that Loki won’t make things easy for me, but that it will help. I thanked Bragi and told him I would write him a poem in return for his help (which he seemed very excited about lol), and I put out the candle.

I immediately opened Instagram to tell my coven what happened and the first thing I saw in my feed was a post about Bragi! Needless to say I’m very excited about all of this lmao.

Back to that other candle. I don’t have any lamps in my room yet (I’m a bit broke lmao), so I was trying to read a book by candlelight in there. I had the window cracked and a light breeze was coming through and I assumed that was making the candle go crazy. But it was going nuts for like 30 minutes. I couldn’t read by this candle since the flame was flickering too much. I figured it could be a deity, but I wasn’t feeling up to trying to talk, so I basically said “hey, whoever you are, please pick another time to try to talk to me” and put out the candle (though it didn’t want to go out). It was that EXACT SAME CANDLE that was going nuts today too. I think it was Loki just letting me know he’s here to flip shit on its head. It makes sense that he wouldn’t respond to my questions too.

Anyways, all in all, I’m nervous but excited 😊

[post-modern-prometheus]

What do you think about the Upside Down and the Mindflayer not being completely independent from our characters and Hawkins? I mean the show briefly establishes that the Upside Down was just another variation of Hawkins until the Mindflayer conquered the dimension. But do you think it’s possible that our characters, at least to some affect, are related to and hold some power as to how the Mindflayer presents itself and it’s overall hold over Hawkins?

okay fucking buckle in because i also have my own big ass grand theory pulled right out of my ass that i honestly don't expect to come true word for word but wouldn't be surprised if some elements came to pass.

and it starts with good ol donnie darko

if you've never seen donnie darko then you're not really missing anything, but it's a cult classic with a 'twist' ending that i'm going to spoil.

the movie is confusing as fuck so i'm going to attempt to explain it. basically there's this kid named donnie darko and he's played by jake gyllenhaal. and he was like sleepwalking? this one time? all the way up to the top of the mountain on the exact night where a jet-engine falls on his bedroom. so if he was there instead of talking to frank- oh yeah, he's talking to frank, that creepy ass bunny pictured above. and frank tells him the world is gonna end in 28 days. classic frank- so if he hadn't been talking to frank then he would have died. so basically a bunch of shit happens and patrick swayze has child porn in his wall then the apocalypse happens. there's some weird time portal with the jet-engine and donnie realizes that there was some cosmic mix up, that caused him to see these creepy visions of frank that legitimately almost made me piss my pants every time, saved his life from getting killed by that jet-engine. and to literally save the world, he had to die. go back in time sorta? and die.

i really didn't have any basis for connecting this to st and still don't, it legit just popped into my head over the past year. and then i forgot about my whole grand theory, which is to come. however, there is this twitter post where i went OH OH OH

like sure okay there are a lot of different things that this could mean.

but there's one more person you have to know about, and i'm sure you all do because i never shut up about her, before i move on to actually explaining the theory.

jean grey my beloved... aka the phoenix. or dark phoenix if you will. long story short. she's literally the most powerful mutant ever and her powers go brrrr and now they make her evil cuz she can't control them.

sounds like another lady we know?

you thought i was gonna actually get into el rn? no gimme a second.

stephen king is quite literally the biggest single influence to the show. i really think el should have her carrie moment (getting bullied, her bullies take it just a BIT too far and uh oh death) in season 4 to be like oh shit el does still have her powers. they're just. dormant. idk i think it'd be cool.

so why bring them up?

the comic referenced in the very first episode of the show is the beginning of the dark phoenix saga, aka where jane- OH SORRY I MEANT JEAN- goes bonkers.

so el's gonna go bonkers with her powers? that's my big theory?

not exactly.

there's a lot of time travel easter eggs in season three, most notably my favorite movie of all time, back to the future. so i'm feeling some sort of time travel happening soon. but what if it's not how we view traditional time travel, but something along the lines of...

...donnie darko.

here me out. it's season five. everything's cool and fun and whatever. but something. something sets el off. i'm banking on brenner's return and el goes batshit. her powers start going haywire and they're too much for her. she laments to hopper that she can't control them but!!! brenner reveals that hopper sold her out to him in the first season. betrayal... and anger.

i don't think el's gonna kill hopper, but there is definitely a character who we know and love biting the dust (i'm banking on jonathan because conflict like joyce's personal conflict cuz her adopted daughter killed her son but also between nancy and mike who have differing views). so this is when we really know that something isn't right. and all the xmen fans start crying because we know it's not gonna end well.

skip a little bit blah blah and we find out somehow that the upside down is a future version of hawkins (and the world), frozen in the exact moment where everything was killed and destroyed by the mind flayer's power.

by el's power. cuz once her power overtakes her, she becomes the mind flayer. and this is so hard to explain, but the world always ends at this one exact moment. and it's just on a loop, as the demogorgon is sent into hawkins from the portal from the moment when the gang looses against el.

except this time. for some reason idk. she overcomes her power and stops it by...... oh hey donnie.... sacrificing herself.

only i don't want el to die because i love her and i think it would lowkey go against her arc. but all this is written pre-season 4 which is when i think we'll be able to start to see a glimpse of the end.

i also like the idea that somehow, will is given the power to stop her? by her sending the demogorgon after him. it's this whole confusing time loop, but akin to how voldy chooses harry to be his nemesis by just. going to his house and killing his rents. that gives harry the power to stop him. like something in the upside down obviously did something to him, but here it's like. he's got immunity and can fight her idk.

but again, i pulled this out of my ass awhile ago, i just think it'd be fun. it's not airtight and obviously i'm not even sure of some elements. there are some more pieces of evidence that i'm way too lazy to find, but i agree that it's no coincidence that these specific characters have to deal with the upside down every time and people connected to them get roped in.

i just hope that they give us some good explanation and i'd want to be surprised by it, but in the nature of an m night shyamalan twist. like the sixth sense. i'm not expecting it, but as soon as it happens, it makes sense and all the pieces fall into place.

[marvelousell]

The Agreement (Part 1.)

Pairing(s): frat boy!fwb!Tom x reader, frat boy!Harrison x reader

Summary: Tom is a typical frat boy, his love for partying, drinks and girls are bigger than his ego. Y/N is a whole different dimension, she keeps her circle small, and even though she knows her best friend Tom is a total douche, she can’t say no to the little deal that was sealed between the two of them.

Word count: 2k

A/N: ahhhh so this is my first series that I’m posting here! I’ve went for the fwb!au but I will do a mob one soon too. It will be full of angst, smut, friendship, love, heartbreak, absolutely everything. I hope that you all will like it, and I would appreciate it if you comment, reblog or send a feedback!🥰

Also my tag list is open for the series!

Warnings: mentions of smut, swearing

It was a Friday night and that meant party all night.

Well not for you.

You weren’t a party girl. Sure you went here and there on some frat parties with your friends, but every Friday? Hell no.

The Friday nights were reserved for a book and a cup of tea.

You were a shy one, you kept your circle small. Tom, Harry, Anna and Amelia.

You were a big bookworm, and hopeless romantic. A great duo for sure.

Sometimes you felt like an ugly duckling. Amelia and Anna were gorgeous and appealing brunettes, just like other college girls, but with a great personality. They were a whole package if you asked me.

You would say that you were an average looking girl. Nothing to special.

You just wanted a guy that would love you for who you are on the inside, not outside.

Too much books, I know.

“Maybe it’s time to head to bed.” You said to yourself, after you caught yourself overthinking, again.

-

“Jesus Christ.” You sighed, the doorbell waking you up.

It was 20 minutes past midnight, and you were now worried who is at the door at this time.

“Again?” You groaned, rubbing your eyes.

“I’m sorry, I know it’s late, but I really needed a break.” Tom spoke, running his palm through his messy hair and massaging his scalp.

You motioned him to the living room, styling your hair that was sticking out everywhere, as much as possible.

“Great, I look like a zombie.” You murmured to yourself as you went to the couch where Tom was seated.

“Want anything to drink or something else?”

“Yeah…something strong?” He said, pushing his back flat on the couch.

“You know that I only have wine here.”

“It will do the job.”

-

“So..will you tell me what is tonight’s reason for your visit?” Your figure sat next to Tom’s, enjoying a late glass of wine as well.

“She saw me with Stassie today, so she went bonkers.”

Ah. Typical Tom.

Well let’s go back to the start shall we?

If you were honest, there was a lot, but still nothing to tell that wasn’t familiar to everyone.

Tom. Your typical frat boy.

Hot guy, astonishing body, soft curly brown hair followed with the dark brown eyes that had every girl drooling. His charming smile that he flashed to every single girl, covered up his conceited behaviour. Although he was a very charismatic person, he was a bit big-headed.

Did I say a bit? I meant a lot.

Parties were his scene. Tom loved the attention he got from the people almost immediately when he would enter the party place. Girls were basically throwing themselves on him, waiting for him to acknowledge them.

Tom was aware of the effect he had on the ladies, and he sure took advantage of that.

Every weekend there was a new one in his sheets.

He didn’t do feelings, some girls knew, some didn’t. So the morning after he would throw them out of his room half naked, all shattered and with the disgusting feeling that they were used.

He had a reputation, after all he was the most wanted boy out here, everyone’s dream was to become something to him.

Unfortunately no one had succeeded.

Did Tom say she a minute ago? Oh yes.

She was Sophie. And no, she wasn’t his girlfriend, but she sure didn’t think that way.

Sophie was your classic example of a girl that doesn’t understand the word no.

She was one of Tom’s flings, a beautiful, but fake girl. They got together at her 20th birthday party, it was just a one time drunk sex. Tom waited for her to feel asleep after a long session, so he could just go home and get at least a little amount of sleep.

However the next day at college, Sophie was like a limpet.

She didn’t let him breathe, even though Tom explained how he worked.

To be rejected or not interested in her was a unknown term for Sophie.

“Look, we shared a night, had sex and that’s all. It’s how I roll sweetie okay?” He desperately tried to get her off of his back.

“Tommy, I know how you do things, but you can’t lie about the chemistry. We just need to be together. And the sex is amazing.”

And that’s how it started.

Tom was loud and clear, not just with her, but with his friends and other ladies that she isn’t his girl, and never will be.

He really hoped that Sophie would let him be after a while, and she really did, but Tom just couldn’t keep it in his pants.

The Spring party.

Everyone got shit-faced, Tom was super turned on by a sweet brunette that clearly wasn’t interested in his lame flirting.

Sophie came in for a refill in the kitchen, but she was a godsend for Tom at that moment.

“Soph, sweetie mind if I get you a drink?”

“Thought you were clear about your feelings for me Tommy?” She answered, playing with the end of her dress.

“Yeah, yeah..How about I get you that drink, and we could catch up on things, ya know like old times?” He crossed his arms on purpose, flexing his biceps.

“I knew you would come back.” Sophie laughed, wrapping her slim arms around him.

It happened again. And Tom left like the last time, but once again Sophie didn’t get the message.

It became much more harder for him to avoid her, she was all over the place. She ruined his possible hookups, tried to meet his friends, brothers. It was getting on his last nerve, and even though he said that he doesn’t do relationships, she didn’t give up.

Sophie just wanted to be in the spotlight, and Tom was a great opportunity.

-

“Dear God. I told you that this lifestyle of yours would cost you. You should’ve refrain yourself for one night. Now you have a fake and crazy girl on your back, and no freedom as well.” You said, secretly eyeing him, he was hot you couldn’t lie.

“Thanks for not helping Y/N. Fucking hell I just want her to disappear, she is hundred percent crazy!”

“Why don’t you for once think rationally. Call her, take her for a coffee, tea whatever, sit down. Talk. Like normal people, tell her how things are, use your magic. But be nice and direct, she needs to get it in her head.” You tried your best to help him, after all he was your best friend and crush since preschool.

Stupid choice I know.

“I think so, but I wouldn’t be surprised that she spreads the news that I took her on a ‘date’, not a ‘can you please fuck off’ coffee.” Tom spoke clearly annoyed, filling up his empty glass.

He was tipsy already, and so were you. The wine absolutely did the job.

You were now nervous, your heart thumping against your ribs, the silence wasn’t an issue between the two of you, but tonight something was different.

“Why are you laughing?” You questioned, looking at Tom.

“Nothing darling, just remembered the day at elementary school.”

“Oh God. Which one?”

“You know, when you almost punched Elizabeth when she said I gave her a flower, and that I’m her best friend now.” He looked at you smiling like a child.

“Hey! You couldn’t blame me I loved you, you were my bestie I thought you betrayed me!” You stated, turning your body to his.

“Oh loved?” He grabbed his chest, trying to look hurt, but failing after a loud laugh escaped from his lips.

Your hand slapped his chest playfully, as an answer.

“This wine is crazy, I’m definitely going to consume it more.” He spoke.

“Well you for sure will if Sophie freaks out again.”

“New bottle?” You asked, standing up, your legs wobbly from the alcohol that was running in your system.

“Sure, it’s a long night after all.”

You tried to be as relaxed as you could be, but Tom’s presence tonight didn’t let you be.

Tom was also tense, the wine messed with his mind, he didn’t got laid for days, and the silky white shorts of yours didn’t help him at all.

You were in front of him, opening a bottle, but he just couldn’t control himself. His eyes were glued on your slim legs and tits.

He knew that under those hoodies that you wear on a daily basis was an incredible body.

Tom finded you attractive, absolutely stunning. He thought about you on his bed, whining for him, he really did wanted to have sex with you, but he couldn’t. You were his best friend and Tom didn’t want to hurt you.

But fucking hell. Tonight you were making him go nuts.

“I’m worn out.” You said exhaling the air.

“Live a little Y/N. Your nose is 24/7 in those books, give yourself a break, don’t be so boring.”

“Me boring? Oh excuse me that I don’t have such a dynamic life as yours.” You rolled your eyes.

“Hell yes you are, when was the last time you had sex?”

“What?!” Your cheeks were burning, and you couldn’t believe he asked you that. Sure you two had conversations about sex, but only about his sex life, and by that I mean who he slept with not how and where.

“You heard me, c’mon we’re friends you can tell me everything.”

Stupid Tom.

“Yes we are, but I would love to keep the informations about my sex life to myself.”

“So you’re a virgin?”

“TOM!” You almost chocked on the wine.

“Well?” He smirked, feeling how you got more and more shy from the conversation. God he wanted to fuck you so bad.

“No I’m not a virgin!”

“Then you can tell me when was the last time hm?”

“I don’t remember ok?! Jesus, the last time was probably the week before me and Noah broke up.” Your voice almost a whisper, realising that you were presumably too boring.

Tom just whistled the ‘wow that’s tooo long’ whistle, earning an annoying look from you.

“If it helps you I didn’t bang a girl for like a week, maybe more?” His answer turning into a question.

“Yeah, that helped me a lot, thanks Thomas.”

“Always here to help you.”

You once again slapped him playfully, but with the arm where your glass of wine was, spilling the beverage on his shirt and sweatpants.

Shit.

“Fuck, sorry! I’m drunk, I-shit.” Yes, you were absolutely drunk, because the sober Y/N wouldn’t try to dry Tom’s crotch with her hands.

Tom’s eyes opened widely. The feeling of your palm rubbing his now hard dick, speeded up his breathing.

Your knees were on the couch, and your body extremely close to his. You still didn’t have a clue what you were doing.

“If you’re gonna clean me up like this, I might spill some of this by myself darling.” He groaned, raising the glass in the air.

That was enough to send your mind to reality.

“OH GOD. I’m so sorry, oh my God this is so embarrassing right now.” You tried to sit back down, but Tom’s hands stopped you.

Before you could fall on the purple carpet in your living room, his grip brought you into his chest.

Your hands were on his thorax, his arms on your lower back.

“Shit, am I on his lap right now?! What the fuck is happening?” You thought inside your head. What a great situation to be in.

“You’re making me so hard now Y/N.”

You were speechless. This wasn’t happening.

“I think it’s a big shame that you don’t have any kind of relief after a long day.” He whispered in your ear, breathing in the sweet scent of your shampoo.

“Tom.” Your mind was hazy, you tried your best to resist this, but holy shit you wanted this since forever.

“How about I suggest something to you darling?”