#within some reason of course. but still………

[dyingswanpavlova]

"Your girl" - Part 1 | The Salesman x Reader

Summary: After getting attacked at the train station, you get rescued by a mysterious stranger. But is that really better?

Warnings: dead dove do not eat, kidnapping, attempted rape, violence, murder, hints of blood and gore, trauma talk

Part 2

Part 3

He was a twisted motherfucker. And you knew it was your own fault you ended up in his claws. But how could you have possibly known? After all, at first he seemed like the good guy.

Looking back, it was entirely lost on you, how he managed to pull that off.

You remembered vividly how it felt when you sat on the cold bench in the waiting area of the underground train station, just like you did every evening of your life. Except for Sundays. Sundays were reserved for books and tv shows, to numb out your mind. Sundays were for you.

Your thoughts had been occupied with work and the feeling of your lower body slowly freezing off.

UTI, honey. You'll get UTI, if you sit on cold surfaces for too long. Your mothers voice took up a lot of space in your head, despite the fact that the last time you saw her was years ago. It still made you feel uneasy, but there was not much you could do. She was your mother, your inner voice, your compass. The part of your mind that still relied on her advice didn't know that she was long gone from your life and for a reason.

The first thing you noticed was a pair of cold hands reaching for you. Everything seemed to be cold that day. And God, you hated the cold.

His cold hands reached for you and before you even realized it, he had you pinned against the bench, trapped in-between him and the cold surface. You didn't have time to react at all. His one cold hand went up to cover your mouth, while his other cold hand cupped your breast through the fabric of your clothes.

Of course you struggled. It was a reflex. You tried to fight him off as soon as you realized what was going on. You struggled and squirmed, at some point you even tried to knee him in the crotch. But he straddled your waist, keeping you down with his weight and you knew where this was leading.

You hadn't even seen his face. His ugly ass blue hat with the dove on top was pulled down deep in his face and you couldn't make out his eyes. Not that it would have changed anything, but it made everything even worse for you.

But what was by far the worst thing, wasn't the cold. It wasn't even the fact that the station was empty except for the two of you. The worst thing was that no sound came out when you opened your mouth to scream. No sound at all.

Oh, how you had feared that. The dream came often, frequently even and it was a shitty feeling every time, wanting to scream but no sound came out. Your throat was tight, your tongue useless, your lips parted in a silent plea.

No.

This was the end, you were sure.

He'd violate you and if you were lucky, he'd leave you like that, on the cold bench, to fend for yourself. But that wasn't your biggest fear. Your biggest fear was what would happen if he didn't decide to leave you like that.

Maybe it'd be quick. A blade to your throat and within a few minutes everything would finally be over.

But what if not?

A knot built in your stomach as you saw your future right infront of you. Sold off to some twisted people, spending the rest of your life as a tool for someone else's pleasure, someones amusement, someones-

No, being violated wasn't your worst fear.

Being sold off was.

At some point people would believe you were dead and then they'd stop searching.

Tears streamed down your face and your body shook with suppressed sobs as he ripped at your shirt impatiently. Your lips parted in another desperate plea, but still, no sound.

You were done for. This was your end. You couldn't breathe.

Until, suddenly, you could again.

You let out a shuddery gasp when you felt his weight lift off of you. You were frozen solid after you backed away against the wall.

The man appeared out of nowhere, looking like someone from a novel or a movie.

His hair, which looked like it was normally slicked back neatly, hung into his face as he dragged the man off you, his expression twisted into something you couldn't read.

You took a deep breath. In. And out. In. And out.

You were safe. The police would come, the man would get arrested and he wouldn't ever touch you again. You would finally see his eyes and-

Oh God.

You winced outwardly when you heard the cracking sound and the man with the blue hat went limp in his arms. His unreadable expression turned into something resembling smugness.

You watched in horror as he tossed the lifeless body onto the train line. The train came on time. Of course it did. Punctuality was a good deed, especially here in South Korea.

What you witnessed then was probably the most gruesome scene of your life and you immediately knew you would never get that picture out of your head.

The sound of a gunshot forced you back to reality and you winced painfully. When you looked up, you saw him still pointing his gun at the security camera in the left corner of the area. On his face a subtle smile. The twisted smile of an avenging angel...or an obvious demon.

He pushed the gun back beneath his waistline and held out his hand to you.

The man who had almost destroyed your life was dead, scattered across the train station in blood and gore and the man who would undoubtedly destroy your life held out his hand to you.

You heard your mothers voice again, small and subtle.

Don't take his hand, honey. Something's most definitely wrong with him. I bet he's dangerous.

That was what made you take his hand in the end. However bad he was, he couldn't possibly be worse than her, could he?

A few minutes later, he made a point of passing about every car on the highway.

"Where do you live?" His voice was like silk. It was terrifying.

After what had happened, you felt like you had stopped breathing for a while and just now were you slowly getting back to it again.

No ins and outs. Straight up hyperventilating.

"I- I don't know." You gasped out truthfully.

He cocked a brow and briefly glanced at you from the drivers seat.

"You don't know?"

You frantically shook your head.

"I always take the same path. From the train station, take a turn left and- and-"

"Where are you from, sweet girl?" His voice sounded so calm, as sweet as honey. It was almost offensive, it was infuriating.

"Yorkshire." You whispered without missing a beat.

He hummed softly and briefly eyed you up and down. "England, hm? I should have recognized from your grace and beauty."

Was he fucking flirting with you? After he just...just murdered someone?

"What takes you to South Korea then? School? Uni?"

"Work." You murmured, not even recognizing your own voice. But at least by now it was back. Fucking betrayed by your own body, wonderful.

He raised his brows as he passed another car in a nerve-wrecking speed.

"Work? You look a little young to be that far from home, working here. Do you even speak the language?"

You subtly shook your head and he nodded.

"I work with...with computers." You mumbled absentmindedly. In your head, the scene from earlier kept repeating like a broken record. All that blood...

He hummed again. An odd sound. He radiated such a calm energy, it was truly confusing.

"You were awfully quiet earlier." He remarked.

You swallowed back the lump in your throat and looked out of the window.

"Ah. Sore spot. I get it."

At first you had thought he might be taking you to the police station. But then you realized; after he just butchered someone down without flinching? Probably not.

Still, you had hope. That was until you saw the city sign disappear in the rear view mirror. This wasn't good. Maybe for once you should have listened to your mothers voice.

"Where are you taking me?" You asked quietly.

He didn't respond, just kept his gaze firmly on the highway before you. You kept glancing at him for a while, before eventually you looked down at your hands. You hadn't even realized how much they were shaking. You wanted to ask many, many questions.

Who the hell are you?

Where are we going?

Why did you kill that man?

...Am I next?

But all you managed was a quiet, desperate exhale.

"Are you hungry?" He asked matter-of-factly.

You thought back to the massacre and immediately felt nauseous again, so you shook your head.

"Yes, you are. You need to keep your strength. Don't worry, sweet girl. We'll be home soon. I'll take good care of you."

The cold sweat that broke out on your body was nearly painful. You knew he wasn't normal, but you couldn't yet tell to which extent he was crazy.

Was he just a little twisted?

He was a killer after all. And now you were with him. In his car. Maybe, just maybe you could...

You glanced down at the doorhandle, when his calm voice made you jump.

"Don't even think about it, sweet girl. That won't work. I'm driving so fast, the second your body hits the pavement, your head will explode like a balloon."

The was that tightness in your throat again. But this time something was different. He had his hands on the steering wheel, not on you. You could still breathe.

Suddenly you saw yourself again, sold off. And damn it, suddenly exploding didn't sound so bad anymore.

You furiously tugged on the door handle, but it didn't work. It was locked. You kept trying it desperately, a soft passing your lips. After a few moments you realized it was pointless.

Slowly you tilted your face back towards him, only to realize he was already watching you. He was still smiling that subtle, not at all genuine, smile, but this time something was different. It was like a cold fury had taken possession of his eyes.

Maybe he wasn't a demon. Maybe he was the devil.

"That one was free. Because we don't know each other all too well yet." He said slowly. "But next time, I won't be so forgiving."

You looked back at the street ahead of you. And suddenly you realized something. Maybe he was worse than your mother.

God, what a terrifying thought.

About half an hour later, there you were. Home.

A great apartment complex, somewhere God knows where.

Suddenly it hit you. He hadn't covered your eyes. Not in the car, not infront of the house, not in the elevator.

You weren't leaving this place, at least not alive.

He led you inside one of the apartments. To your surprise, everything looked pretty normal, except for the part that it looked fairly expensive.

The walls were painted in a warm apricot color and the floor was made of dark wood.

He led you deeper inside and you realized, it was indeed a normal flat. The couch was made of black leather and there was a giant bookshelf, next to a big tv. For some reason the sight of the bookshelf brought you an odd sense of comfort.

How bad could a person be, if he was well-read?

Your mind soon wandered off to Hannibal Lecter and you dismissed the thought.

"Sit."

You sat down on the couch as instructed. All the while you were careful to keep your shoes off the cream colored carpet so you wouldn't get it dirty. It was odd how your mind worked.

He followed your gaze, his expression unreadable again.

Then he crouched down before you, so you were eye level with him. His eyes were of a pretty brown and soulless to the core. You shifted uncomfortably under his gaze. He sized you up for a while, until eventually he sighed. An exaggerated, mocking sound.

"How do you like it here?"

Your insides twisted.

"It's pretty." You said in a choked whisper.

He laughed, a hearty, yet sarcastic sound.

"Look at you. Just look at you. Being my good girl already." He said slowly.

He leaned in so close that his breath tickled your ear. You forced yourself to stay still.

"The door can be opened only by me. The same goes for all windows. All the walls are soundproof. There's no way you can get out, until I want you to. Do you understand?" For the first time, his voice was low and you could grasp the subtle threat. He didn't pretend to be cheerful for once.

Or was it truly pretense?

You forced yourself to nod.

And just like that, his twisted smirk was back.

"Very well." He swiftly stood up. "What would you like for dinner?"

You slowly tilted up your head to read his expression. Read his intention. Read his character or the lack of it. But there was nothing. Nothing for you understandable, nothing that made any kind of sense.

"I'm not hungry." You whispered.

He pretended to pout, but eventually held out his hand to you again. A bittersweet deja-vu. As much as you wanted to refrain from taking it this time, you were far more afraid of what would happen if you refused him.

You hesitantly took his hand and he pulled you up to your feet.

"Maybe a nice, hot shower then?" He purred.

Of course. This time, it wouldn't be a faceless man with a blue hat to violate you, it would be him. The devil himself. You could already feel it, smell it and taste it. In the shower, on the bed, the kitchen counter, the floor and against the wall, until he grew tired of you.

That was why you were there. That had to be.

Before you could react, he had led you back to a spacious bathroom. Everything looked ridiculously clean and expensive. The freestanding tub was sparkling and the fluffy towels begging to dry you off.

He'd bend you over the tub. Maybe push your head under water. You knew he would. Just a minute more.

Instead, he gently ushered you inside.

"I'll get you something clean to sleep in." He said matter-of-factly. "I'll leave it infront of the door. Take as much time as you need."

With that, he disappeared and closed the door behind him. Your eyes widened almost comically. You then rushed forward to lock the door, which worked with ease. Next, the window. You tugged on the handle, desperate to open it. Not that it would have made any sense, you were too high above the street. But the thought of opening the window still filled you with hope. Like maybe, at least there would be one way out.

When nothing worked, you tried to break the glass. But you quickly noticed it was no normal glass. He hadn't lied. The windows provided no way out.

You slumped down below the sink and cried for a while. To no great surprise of yours, your tears ran dry quickly and you just sat in silence for a while.

You were trapped.

And you had no idea what you were here for.

After what felt like half an hour, you got up with shaky legs and decided to check if the door was truly locked. It was. You unlocked it and perked your head out, only to realize he had left you a bathrobe outside, as well as slippers and a nightdress. It was pretty basic, made of cotton. But it wasn't revealing or anything. The thought was oddly comforting. You picked up the clothes and disappeared back into the room, where you locked the door and sighed.

Your eyes settled on the tub and you thought, why the hell not?

You made quick process of it. You got rid of your sweat-soaked clothes and stepped into the tub. The water filled up the tub rather quickly. At least the warmth of it provided some kind of comfort. You poured some scented lavender oil in and sunk deeper down.

You didn't dare close your eyes though. You were still sure he would come and take what he wanted. Mayhe he just wanted you to be clean first? He would come. He surely would.

But he didn't. Minutes passed, another half an hour. And he didn't come. You rinsed off and stepped out of the tub. The giant, fluffy towels felt heavenly against your skin. It was almost like you were in a hotel. Except for the murder and abduction part.

You slipped into the nightdress and the slippers and towel dried your long hair. Then you folded the towel neatly and placed it on the radiator. After a few long, deep breaths you carefully stepped outside. The cold air brought you back to reality as you followed back the same path he had led you earlier. You were surprised to find the living room empty, but you heard rustling sounds from the kitchen.

And then your gaze settled on the door.

It were less than five steps. You could make it. You could. If you were quick and took off the slippers, you could stealthily...

"Sweet girl?" That fake sweetness again, with the hint of underlying warning to it. You swallowed thickly and looked up. He stood in the doorway and looked at you with something resembling a warm smile.

"How was your bath?"

You stood frozen. Five small steps. If you thudded against the door loud enough, maybe someone might hear. Alert the police. Rescue-

"I asked you a question."

"Good." You whispered. And involuntarily added: "Thank you."

Good girl, purred your mothers voice.

But all he did was smile.

"Come, I made dinner. Just a few bites."

Your mind drifted back to Hannibal Lecter and you nearly spat. A careful glance into the kitchen and...

Pancakes. You gasped in relief.

He tilted his head to the side, smiling softly.

"You don't like pancakes?"

"I do." You whispered involuntarily.

They might be poisoned, but the fact that you hadn't eaten anything since lunch at work got the better of you. He slowly guided you into the kitchen and sat you down on one of the chairs, before he sat down opposite you.

He caught you staring down at the food suspiciously, which made him chuckle.

"They're not poisoned."

When you still didn't move, he rolled his eyes and took a bite off your fork. He chewed and swallowed with a smug expression.

"See?"

You reluctantly moved. They weren't bad. Pretty good even. You chewed carefully and never took your eyes off him. He did the same. And he still looked so unbelievably calm.

After you finished eating and downed a glass of water, you stared at him...expectantly.

His smirk widened.

"A curious little bird, aren't you?"

He narrowed his eyes somewhat and reached out to touch your cheek. "You cried."

To your surprise, when you flinched, he pulled his hand back and hummed softly.

"No need to cry, sweet girl. I'll take care of you. All you have to do is agree."

You already regretted asking. "Agree to what?"

He leaned back and bared his teeth in a predatory smile.

"Being mine."

Your brows furrowed in confusion and straight up stress. The calming effects of the bath were slowly fading away.

"What?"

"Mine, sweet girl. My girl."

"Your girl?" You asked somewhat incredulously, which was something he didn't seem to appreciate.

He reached out and cupped your face in his hand, his grip firm, but not painful. Yet. Your heart immediately skipped several beats.

"Oh, you will agree, sweet girl. The question is, will you agree willingly? Or do I have to make you?" He narrowed his eyes even further.

"Who are you, sweet girl?"

You stared up at him with wide, fearful eyes. Something told you that there was no right answer to that question.

And then, in a rare fit of courage, you said your name.

He took a long, deep breath and slowly dropped his hand from your chin.

"That's very tragic, sweet girl."

With a disapproving tsk he shook his head.

"Unfortunately, that was the wrong answer."

[lordcrumps]

Sul Sul!

Hello, I just wanted to say thank you to everyone who have reached out to me and my family the past few months; for those who don't know, my mum and uncle passed away on the same day in June and then in November I lost my cat of 19 years, so lets just say 2024 can do one!

2025 brings me hope that the year will be better, and the worse of it will be over! I plan on getting back into creating CC streaming etc, but right now I am enjoying playing... well I was until my Pleasantview got corrupted due to user error, but no fear we have a new hood in the works! Pleasant Point - inspired by our very own @kashmiresims Kashmire Point!

Thanks to those who have been with me on discord calls and chats, especially those the last few months, you really helped me in more than one way and I would love to tag you all but I don't want to accidentally miss someone, but you all should know who you are!

What is to come from lordcrumps this year? Details under the cut!

So what shall we expect from lordcrumps in 2025 and beyond? That is a big question! So let's give a big answer! Below will be of some of my most asked questions, so hope I clear things up!

STREAMING - My first goal is to get Pleasant Point finished and ready to play. Once I have this I shall get back into streaming again, setting up a schedule and what not for those who are interested! You can follow here!

YOUTUBE - Can't tell you when, but I do plan on doing more on Youtube!

CUSTOM CONTENT - Everything that I have created CC form, I will go through and upload at some point. I have TONS of stuff that was meant to be in "sets" (sets like, every wall / every floor / entire stuff packs etc) but never got around to finishing due to my hyper-focus moving onto to something different. So instead of hoarding them, I will eventually get around to uploading them! Cos lets face it, I can always update at a later date!

TERRAIN DEFAULTS - My Pleasantview redo / Pleasant Point / Sim State University Redo all use custom terrain types (like lush, dirt, concrete etc), so they are not that user-friendly to just import and play sadly, so I want to create a tutorial set and videos to go along with them. I also have to have the CC released for them to work too! As well as tutorials on how to have multiple roads sets within in one hood / different roads for different terrain types.

REQUESTS - I still do not want to take requests, this is because I do not like to promise something and never deliver. I will continue doing what I want to do and sharing with of all you. Just assume that one day the entire Sims 4 will be converted by myself or other friends of lordcrumps.com *wink* @platinumaspiration *wink*

LORDCRUMPS.COM - This site is not going anywhere, well at least that is the plan, this will be the place for all of my released CC!

LORDCRUMPS DISCORD - Back in my streaming and YouTube days, I had a discord. Feel free to join, the plan is once all the existing CC is sorted and uploaded. Anything that needs play testing / unreleased stuff / sneaky conversions, will be posted in there plus any updates to existing CC.

LINUX - Thanks to @kashmiresims and @teaaddictyt i'm now a linux boi, so will update you how that goes - so far, I am very impressed.

My TOU, I have had a lot of questions about my "rules" and what not so I want to clear things up as much as possible.

I purchase the Sims 4 for me to convert the items to Sims 2, I simply upload to lordcrumps.com for prosperity reasons, and of course to share with you all.

Feel free to use / share / edit what ever you download from me. Not 1 person owns sims conversions; so I cannot lawfully dictate who does what with the downloads. What I will say is for authentic LordCrumps and co CC, it will be on lordcrumps.com, this is where any updates, fixes etc will be posted.

If you use CC for a lot and package up that to share, fine, just make sure they have all the dependencies needed (Sims 4 shadow file, master meshes etc) Just don't take entire packs and re upload and claim as your own? I only ask of this due to the nature of updating files with minor tweaks, updating and bugginess, if it is all linked to one place (my site) then all the updates will be there too.

Hair Defaults by Platasp - this is one download I will be strict on, do not upload anywhere else, this is because of how interconnected the hairs are to each other, removing one might break another. Any updates will be kept to lordcrumps or individual files on PlatAsp tumblr. lordcrumps.com is not planning on shutting down any time soon, so there is no need to re-upload anywhere else.

SIMS 4 CC CONVERSIONS - Yes, one day once The 4T2 conversions have been done, I will be working on converting CC for the Sims 4, but right now; no, unless its really spectacular. So please stop asking to convert stuff from Sims 4 creators as that does not interest me right now. The reasoning behind this is that if I start treating myself to CC items, I will get spoilt and not want to convert actual Sims 4 stuff, silly excuse I know, but I would like to convert the Sims 4 first. That would be cool.

ANYWHO - That's all I think I have to say now, if you made it this far down thank you, here is some more pics of Pleasant Point to say thanks ahah!

Have a great day! See you soon!

[fandombandomfics]

My Boyfriends Job (Front Man x Reader)

Summary: In-ho brings you (the reader) to the island for the first time. It's the same year where Gi-hun won the games.

Warnings: none

Y/N’s POV 

He never fully mentioned his job, so me being here is a first. He did have me blind folded so I didn’t know where we were headed. Typical In-ho, being secretive about his job even to me his girlfriend/boyfriend. Once we arrived and came to his private quarters, he took the blind fold off. He was explaining to me how his job worked and what he does for six days. 

“So this is the notorious Squid Games?” I ask as In-ho pours himself a glass of whiskey. I look at the monitor in his room, quite large. 

“Yes it is darling, this is where the trash are sent to fight for their lives,” He states, walking over to where I’m standing. Handing me a glass of wine, I take it and look back at the screen. Seeing all these people with different numbers on them. 

“They’re all in debt?” I ask and he nods, a slight scowl forms on his face. 

“In crippling debt Y/N,” He states, not tearing his gaze from the monitor. 

“So they play these games for 6 days, to win the money?” I ask 

“Yes enough questions, sit,” He demands and I sigh, knowing it's best not to argue with him. I sit on his lap. He smirks and wraps his arm around my waist, holding his glass of whiskey in his free hand. 

“The VIPs place bets on them?” I ask and he nods. 

“Yes, you can place a bet if you like,” He says and I look at him intrigued. 

“Hmm interesting,” I say and he chuckles at me. 

“Mine is on player 218,” He says and I see the player on the screen. A gentleman, probably in his mid forties. He is quite handsome. But another catches my eye for some reason. 

“456,” I say and he looks at the screen. 

“Ah yes Seong Gi-hun,” He says 

“You know all their names?” I ask 

“Of course, we keep a record of all the players,” He explains as the game commences on the screen. I watch in baited breath as the players try to make it across the line within 5 minutes. I shift on his lap and he tightens his grip around it. 

“Sit still,” He says with a hint of warning. I bite my lip a little and nod. 

“Was just getting comfortable In-ho,” I say and he chuckles, his warm breath tickling my neck. 

“Be a good girl/boy for me,” He says, moving my hair to the side. I tilt my neck so he has better access to it. He grins and kisses my neck, sucking on my pulse point. I giggle as I grip his jacket. He pulls away and shakes his head, moving my hand away from it. 

“Don’t wrinkle it,” He says, his eyes half lidded and full of lust and love. 

“In-ho,” I say, quietly. He smirks and runs his hand up my arm, kissing my shoulder. 

“Does my precious little one want attention?” He asks, his lips brushing up against my neck. My eyes flutter shut, gripping the back of the seat 

“In-ho stop being a tease,” I say and he chuckles, pulling away from my neck. 

“Tonight I won’t be such a tease,” He says, moving me so I’m straddling his waist. 

“Good, I don’t think I can handle it if you were doing that,” I say, my voice sounding more desperate than intended. 

“Don’t worry darling, the wait will be worth it,” he says. This man will be the death of me one day.

[ladybracknellssherry]

Neil Gaiman is an abuser and disgusting and no one should still be trying to defend this man. I hope his victims heal and can move forward and I hope they get to see some form of justice. I hope he never gets to abuse anyone again. I hope no one wants to work with him ever again. I hope his son is safe and someone gets him out of that environment.

I already said a lot about this last summer when the tortoise podcast first came out. But since everyone on tumblr has to have an opinion, I have a few to add.

"He wrote Calliope! Why are you surprised?" "He's a Zionist! Why are you surprised?" "He was raised in the Scientology cult! Why are you surprised?" "He-"

No.

The majority of fiction about sensitive / problematic / harmful topics is neither an endorsement nor a confession.

Being terrible in one way doesn't always/necessarily mean you're going be terrible in other ways. This mindset gives "you should have seen the signs" which is kind of a lot reductive and is within spitting distance of the victim blaming county line.

After an SA, someone in my social circle said to my face as ... a joke?... "what did you expect? dude listened to dave matthews band."

???

The signs are always there. Clear as day in the rearview mirror. And those signs can vary greatly. Anything can be a sign if you want it to be, I guess.

Remember when that guy Ted Bundy worked at a Suicide Hotline? The scariest thing to me is that a common sign of violent abusers seems to be an involvement in the causes to HELP victims.

I think we go looking for flashing neon signs like this because, simply, a wolf in sheep's clothing is far more terrifying than a regular ole straightforward wolf.

And this JKR vs. NG discourse? Who is making this a "which terrible person is the more terrible person?" contest? And what the fuck is wrong with you? Hate the artist, love the media. You do you. If you want to denounce great things created by terrible people, put down the phone, tablet, or computer you're reading this on because the guy who invented the transistor was a eugenicist and a racist.

NG acted this progressive, feminist ally type persona in all kinds of ways. And meanwhile was doing terrible shit, abusing and grooming and controlling and manipulating, and ultimately causing a lot of first direct harm, and now that the truth has come out, a huge blast radius of (indirect?) harm.

JKR continues to espouse and encourage vile discourse that fans the flames of transmisia/transphobia, putting trans lives in danger. Joanne spends so much time trying to police and influence the definition of "woman" that she attacks cis women - thus further endangering BOTH trans people and cis women in her crusade to...protect...women.

They've both done horrible things. DIFFERENT HORRIBLE THINGS.

There's nuance, of course. It would be great if we stopped giving these people money. My Good Omens fandom family - I know we're hurting. I really hope you plan on pirating any of the related media you would otherwise stream, going forward. Don't worry about David and Michael, the rest of the cast and crew. They'll be fine.

Fuck all of this "it's not about you." How in the hell? This man is a public figure. The reason we make a big deal about it when public figures abuse their power is BECAUSE THIS IS ABOUT ALL OF US. The world shifts when something like this comes out - AS IT SHOULD. Feeling discomfort or rage or sadness right now is normal. Channel those intense emotions. Figure out how to make constructive use of those emotions to try to help create a safer more nurturing world. And remember why you were forced to face these feelings this time - because Neil Gaiman abused women and those women went through absolute hell but were brave enough and strong enough to come out against such a beloved famous man because they wanted to make him be held accountable. Because they don't want him to get away with this. Because no one else should ever have to go through what they went through. Honor that. Honor what they went through. In NG's case, being such a public figure, the absolute scale of coverage with these allegations and accounts, we can only hope he never gets to victimize anyone else again.

That should be the focus. Not this noise of tangential discourse, not the autistic kid who has a special interest who wants to keep posting fan art on tumblr. That kid hates him too and has already said so.

I get it that when the news first broke in July a lot of folks didn't want to believe it. I didn't want to believe it. There was a lot of rationalizing about the media outlet. Look, denial is one of the stages of grief. Fans were shocked and grieving the death of a figure they respected and looked up to. You don't have to have an unhealthy parasocial relationship with someone to feel betrayed when they do terrible things. And, my god, the time we live in. Misinformation and disinformation is rampant. Wanting more information, wanting to take some time to investigate something you've heard is actually responsible, generally speaking. But a week after that news? Two weeks? A month? 3 months? If you're still defending him, denying these allegations, and wanting more "proof" at this point? Fuck right off, you need psychological help. That's not an insult, that is concern, from a fellow human being. You are unwell. I hope you get better.

Good Omens gave me my joy back after years in abusive relationships, multiple SA's, death after death of people I loved, fucking cancer, medical hell. I can't just turn off the love of this media or the love of this fandom I've connected with. I don't want to turn that off.

I'm not going to say "Neil is an abuser - BUT he helped create my special interest." Because that ain't it. "Neil is an abuser - AND he helped create my special interest." No justifying, no waffling, no moral superiority, no flagellation. These are just two facts.

Believe the victims. Tell everyone you'll ever meet that this guy is scum. Throwing away that book you bought 10 years ago won't fix anything. Believe victims. Donate to or volunteer with DV orgs and shelters. Set and respect boundaries in your lives and fucking check in about consent. Believe victims! Don't be silent when someone you know is being "kinda creepy." Believe victims. And take care of yourselves!

x

[writingdevil]

I LOVED Tongues and Teeth; it's such a good fic! And you said the ParaCold crumbs you sprinkled into it were just for you but they also felt like a gift to meeee :D I LOVE THEM! So may I request anything you might feel like writing for ParaCold?

(AAH!Of course!I love your blog and your ParaCold stuff!I'm so happy that you requested this because now I have an excuse to write about them!Enjoy!)

Cold had a staring problem.

Paranoid knew this because he fucking hated being stared at.

Normal eye contact was fine-Paranoid could deal with that without twitching too much.But he couldn't stand blatant,intense staring,as if somebody was trying to see through his bones and feathers and find all his fears and secrets within him.It made his skin crawl and his mind whirl with an endless variety of creatures that wanted to reach out and snatch him up and into the darkness.

The only person that Paranoid was semi-okay with staring at him,was Hunted,and that was because Hunted was an intense creature with a need to check everyone and make sure they're alright,so Paranoid would just grit his teeth and bare it in those moments.

But any other time,he would feel this intense itching,and a crawling fear would creep up his spine,and all Paranoid would want to do was run to the darkest corner he could find so that nothing could perceive him anymore.

Cold had been staring at him lately.

Anytime Paranoid walked into a room,his feathers would puff up in alarm and his heart would pound, and he would be spinning around like a madman, looking for the culprit.Sometimes it would happen when he was just out for a walk!

It was Cold.It was always Cold.

Paranoid would find the bird in the corner of a room that nobody seemed to care about,and Cold's steel gaze would linger down his body like frost,leaving him shivering yet burning at the same time,and he would just glare at Cold from afar and go somewhere to escape his icy eyes.

As much as it irked Paranoid,he knew that it was just Cold being Cold.Maybe a few months ago,he would've marched up to him and told him to knock it off,but that would've been pointless.

Besides,he knew Cold was just eying up something potentially interesting.He goes through phases of intrigue with each member of the flock from time to time,but that intrigue never lasted long,except for maybe Contrarian,who Paranoid still couldn't quite understand even now.

Cold would lose interest eventually,Hero assured, and Paranoid personally couldn't wait to stop feeling Cold's eyes on him.

A week passed,and he still felt Cold staring at him. Then another week,and Paranoid started to stay in his room longer,as the itching was seriously freaking him out now,and he was losing sleep on top of it.

On the third week,a knock was heard at his door, and he didn't even stop to ask who it was before he opened it without a thought,finding Hunted nervously standing in front of him,switching between glancing down the hall,then back at him.

"Hunted?What's wrong?"Hunted's body straightened up in alertness,as if ready to pounce. He looked at Paranoid for a split second,before doing a double take,eyes wide and twitching. Paranoid was about to ask what was wrong,but then Hunted shook his head,as if to rid himself of his shock.

Paranoid had no idea what to expect,but when Hunted nodded out towards the hallway and said, "Follow,"he thought it best to obey him.

They walked side by side,and Hunted was making an obvious effort to not look at Paranoid for whatever reason,and he explained,"I need your help."Hunted briefly made eye contact with him and added,"No one's in danger."

That,at least,made some of the tension leave Paranoid's body."What's got you so wound up then?"

"It's Cold,"Hunted grumbled,and Paranoid immediately stopped in his tracks.Hunted stopped as well,but continued to calmly explain,"He was out with Contrarian this morning,and now his feathers are a mess.He needs to preen.Now-at once."

Now it was beginning to make sense.Preening was one of the very few non life-threatening activities that Hunted took very seriously.To the point where Contrarian had dubbed him the 'Preening Patrol' because of how serious Hunted took preening.If there was even a feather out of place,Hunted wasn't above chasing someone and pinning them to the ground to take care of their wings.Stubborn learned that the hard way.

Cold,predictably,had no interest in preening,seeing it as a useless waste of time and pointless.Paranoid has never seen him preen his wings,and to his knowledge,Hunted is the only reason his wings looked presentable half the time.

But that still didn't explain why Hunted needed Paranoid."Okay?"he said in confusion,"Then go preen his wings.You've never had a problem with this before."

"I can't,"Hunted insisted,"he won't let me."

Paranoid chuckled."That's never stopped you either."He's had the pleasure of watching Hunted drag an unimpressed Cold back to his room for preening with an iron grip around his wrist,and there would always be a hint of mild frustration on Cold's face everytime,as if this was the last thing he wanted to be doing.But Hunted always got his way when it came to preening.

Right now though,Hunted just looked more and more antsy as he finally looked Paranoid in the eye, who squirmed at the action,and said,"I can't.He said he'll only let you preen him."

Immediately,Paranoid's feathers puffed up,and a heat that could only be from nervous panic took ahold of him in that moment.

What?Him?Why?Why him?It was only ever Hunted that preened Cold-Why did Cold want somebody else now?

It was a trap,Paranoid was sure of it.This was a trap,and Cold was going to do something awful to him-that was what the staring had been all about. Cold was trying to figure out what the most fun and interesting way to torment him would be,and now he found it,and now he was going to do something that would set Paranoid on edge forever.

"No,"the words were barely out of his mouth before Hunted swiftly stood right in front of him,a pleading look in his eyes."Please."

"No.I don't trust this."

"It's bad to have wings as messy as his.What if there's danger?What if his feathers tangle together into tiny knots until he can't fly away,and he's killed instantly?"

Paranoid gritted his teeth,crossing his arms in frustration because he knew Hunted was playing to his sensitivities and fears-because those were all thoughts Paranoid would have.

Still,he turned his head away,not convinced that the danger wasn't Cold in this situation.

But then he saw Hunted lower his head,making himself look smaller as he leaned closer to Paranoid,and he found that he couldn't look away as Hunted stared up at him with big,shiny,and irresistibly adorable eyes."Please,"he once again said,feathers puffing up to make him look less feral, and Paranoid immediately felt his heart melt at the sight.

Damnit.Opportunist taught Hunted well.

He scrunched up his face in confliction,but he couldn't tear his gaze away from Hunted and his adorable face,until he groaned loudly."Ugh!Fine!I'll do it!"he conceded,and Hunted immediately dropped the cute display,going back to calm vigilance,if a bit satisfied with himself.

Paranoid glared at him,pointing a finger to his chest and said,"But if anything happens to me in there,you're gonna be my bodyguard for a whole month,okay?"

Hunted nodded his head solemnly."I will."Then a pause,then Hunted quietly said,"Thank you,"and that made all the annoyance leave Paranoid's body, and he sighed and said,"Yeah.I'll let you know when I'm done."

He walked past Hunted,who gave him a soft forehead bump on his arm as he passed,and Paranoid smiled at the gesture-until he got to Cold's room.

It was as if the very temperature around the room dropped,and Paranoid felt goosebumps shoot up his arms.In the back of his head,whispers of worst case scenarios and flashes of potential horrors flooded his mind,and he took a second to press his palms against his eyes until the whispers shut up-and he felt relatively calm again.

He took a deep breath in,staring at the door.Should he knock?Should he just walk right in?Cold didn't seem like the type to care about locking doors.But what if this was the one place where Cold would lock a door,because it was where Cold felt safest and he didn't want anyone to see him-

"You can come in,you know."

Paranoid yelped at the voice,but it did help stop his mind from spiralling further.He glared through the wooden door,at the insufferable bird on the other side of it,and that last little spark of anger was what pushed him to open the door and walk in.

He took a step into the room,before a full body shiver overtook his body,as he stared into Cold's eyes.

He was sitting on his bed,as if waiting for him, kneeling and facing him with a mask of boredom on his face,although Paranoid did catch a little spark of surprise in his eyes,as if he hadn't expected Paranoid to go through with this.

In a really fucked up way,Paranoid felt like he was back in that cabin,walking down to confront the Nightmare.

Of course,Cold was staring at him,and Paranoid tried to ignore the horrible sensation it brought upon him,by clenching his fists and studying Cold's room.

He hadn't really known what to expect,but a random assortment of items felt the most appropriate for Cold.There were many feathers scattered in every spot in the room,along with books strewn about the floor,and Paranoid recognised a few of them as belonging to Skeptic.

Cold also had many handmade weapons just lying around,which definitely didn't help Paranoid's heart calm down.There was a bow leaning against a wall next to the window in the room,and a pile of both normal and broken arrows,and Paranoid bet if he looked out the window,he'd find a bunch of arrows popping up everywhere.

There was also a bedside table that had five or six handmade knives sat atop of it,and that was when Paranoid became immediately aware of the various scratches and marks on the walls,and even noticed a crimson tint on some of the blades.He forced himself not to dwell on it.

There just seemed to be a lot of miscellaneous items that Cold had tried to amuse himself with, before losing interest and throwing them aside.He felt a draft slip in from one of the wall marks near him,and it merely highlighted how bitterly freezing the room was.

Eventually,his gaze made its way back to Cold,who hadn't taken his eyes off him the entire time-in fact, it only seemed to get more intense.

Paranoid shut the door behind him and said,"I hear you're causing problems for Hunted."

"Am I?"Cold said,then lifting a wing to show off,and Paranoid winced at the state of them.Hunted probably almost lost his mind when Cold refused to let him preen him.

"Why do you want me to preen your wings?You know Hunted's the best at it."

Cold shrugged."Got bored of him doing it.He just focuses on the task and then scurries off.He doesn't even respond when I try to talk to him."

"Probably because you keep trying to convince him that there's danger around every corner."

A quirk of a smile."He's more interesting that way. Jumpy and unpredictable."

"Scaring our most competent flockmate won't bode well when there's an actual threat that needs dealing with."Cold rolled his eyes.

"Anyways,"Paranoid said,"back to the issue at hand-why me?Why won't you let anyone else do it?"Cold shrugged again,then casually replied with,"You were the first one to come to mind."

His heart pounded in dread.Cold was definitely up to something.Cold was absolutely going to try something if Paranoid went through with this.He should leave.He should turn around and just tell Hunted to slam him to the ground and preen him, because there was no way that Paranoid could go through with this.

But then cold air hit his face,and he flinched as his feathers puffed up to keep him warm,and he focused back on Cold,just as he turned around so that his back was facing Paranoid,and he glanced over his shoulder and said,"Well?Aren't you going to start?"

He should leave.He should leave.He should leave.

He found himself walking forward.

Paranoid chalked it up to not wanting to upset Hunted further,as he kept his eyes on Cold's hands, which were politely folded in his lap,but that didn't mean he didn't have a weapon hidden somewhere, if his room was anything to go by.

He kept his fists clenched tight as he slowly walked forward,then sunk his knees into the bed,and Cold sent him one last look before turning to face ahead again.Finally,his skin didn't feel on fire for the time being,and he watched as Cold spread his disastrous mess of wings out for him.Shit,how long was this going to take?Paranoid didn't even take time into account for this.But he's here now,and he has no choice but to go through with it.

He started with the right wing,and they were sitting in silence for a few minutes,but Paranoid knew that wouldn't last.

At some point,he got really stuck into the preening, almost completely forgetting who he was with-until Cold suddenly flapped his wings wildly,sending feathers and dust everywhere,and Paranoid jumped back in shock,putting an arm out to block the rough action.

When Cold decided to stop,Paranoid looked up, only to find that all his hard work had been erased, Cold's wings looking as messy as the beginning.

He glared as he sat up,even though Cold couldn't see him."What the hell was that for?!"Cold shrugged,tossing him a nonchalant look over his shoulder as he said,"I needed to stretch my wings.I can't help that."

"Tell me that next time!"Paranoid ordered,then sighed as he started all over again.But merely five minutes later,Cold's right wing jerked itself out of Paranoid's grip,as if spasming,before settling back down.

"You're doing this on purpose!"

"My wing cramped up.I can't help it."

"You can't seem to help anything.Is this all you really wanted me for?"he asked,spreading his arms out as he said,"Did you just want to piss me off?"

Cold didn't reply for a few seconds,before lowering his head as he said,"You're here to preen my wings." Paranoid glared harder,ignoring how soft those words were spoken.

There was nothing he could do but begin again, quickly this time,so that maybe Cold wouldn't do that again,and in an attempt to distract him, Paranoid asked,"Why don't you like getting your wings preened?You're able to do more things with well-groomed wings,like flying,and I doubt you'd want to give that up."

Cold shrugged."It's too tedious to think about in the long run."Paranoid managed to get a small clump of dirt out of Cold's wings,and he felt the appendages tense up for a second,then relax.

"The only way you can experience things in the present is to not get bogged down by the past or the future."Paranoid flicked the dirt away,having many qualms about that logic,but now wasn't the time to get into that.

Especially when Cold turned to give Paranoid a sharp side eye and say,"Like how you do."

Paranoid froze,fingers tensing up while still buried in dark feathers.Cold kept his eyes locked on him, and then slowly tilted his head back until he was staring at Paranoid upside down,and Paranoid's hands were uselessly floating by Cold's head as his wings moved out of his grip.

The itching came back full force,but he also felt like if he moved,Cold would strike,and have no mercy with him.At this angle,Cold was maybe giving him either an intense look or just a weird,curious look, but Paranoid couldn't focus on anything else other than Cold as he said,"You let silly little things like the past give you fears,and the future give you mistrust.You never let yourself just be in the moment."

"So?"Paranoid managed to grit out,"It's almost impossible for somebody to not be thinking about the past or future,even to a small degree."

"But the amount you let it control you seems unnecessary."

"Unnecessary?"Paranoid repeated in shock and disbelief,letting a sharp laugh out,then retorted with,"If I wasn't constantly thinking about what the princess's next move would be,then we would all have died a lot quicker."

"But we still died,so how useful was it really?"

"Way more than you could ever understand."

Cold's eyes widened for a moment,but Paranoid couldn't tell if it was from shock or amusement.He got his answer when Cold's gaze hardened as he said,"I understand that hiding in your room all day doesn't seem very useful."

Paranoid's fingers curled,as if he could imagine digging them into Cold's skull.

"You think I didn't notice?How you suddenly stopped popping up around the place with your nervous mumbling and twitching?I'm fairly certain that holing up in your room won't help you in case something attacks us,arguably more than unpreened wings."

He noticed.He noticed his absence and had done all this just to drag him out of his room.Sure,Cold hadn't actually done anything yet,but the mere fact that Cold had planned this to get him out of his room was enough to have Paranoid shaking in fear.

Cold's eyes flicked across his face,and Paranoid wasn't sure what he was looking for-but he found it, and straightened back up so quick it made Paranoid flinch.

He found his fingers grazing soft feathers again, and he found himself petting the feathers down softly as a way to bring himself back to reality.He kept doing that until the trembling subsided,and all Paranoid was left with tense anxiety,trying to understand what Cold's goal was here.

He hadn't even realized that he had started on the other wing,until Cold once again flapped his wings aggressively about,undoing all his hard work.

Paranoid tipped his head back and groaned loudly."I was halfway done!Why do you keep doing this?You're just dragging this out longer than it needs to be."Cold's response was a shrug.

Paranoid stared at Cold.Well-the back of Cold-and he was beginning to get sick of this fear having a chokehold on him,so he just sighed and calmly asked,"What do I have to do to get you to stay still?"

That was Paranoid's mistake.

Cold hummed in thought,then glanced back at Paranoid and said,"Let me preen your wings as well."

"What?They don't need to be-"

But when Paranoid glanced down at his own wings, he realized with horror that they did need to be preened.Quite badly,in fact.Did he not preen at all in his bedroom?

Then Paranoid remembered the way Hunted was looking at him as they walked,how he looked nervous and twitchy.It was because Paranoid's wings were a mess.

He tore his gaze away from Cold's intense eyes,his mind screaming,'No!'

He didn't let anyone touch his wings.He preened them himself because he only trusted himself to do it right.The only exception was Hunted,and that was because not letting Hunted preen his flockmates was as cruel as Paranoid not having his chant-and now he was starting to realise that he let Hunted get away with way more than he should.

His eyes kept flicking between Cold and his hands, that were still gently holding his feathers.He couldn't go through with this,right?He couldn't actually let Cold preen him,right?What if this was where he made his awful move?

On top of that,Paranoid had finally gotten his wings to a presentable state.With Hero's help,he managed to stop nervously overpreening,and now Paranoid was actually quite proud of how they looked.Was Cold going to undo all that?

But then again,Cold hadn't actually done anything yet.

He doubted that Cold was going to pluck every feather from him,so whatever he had planned,it was probably just to anger or spook him,and Paranoid found that he could deal with that.He could deal with mind games,no matter how jumpy it made him-the Construct had felt like one big mind game.Besides,he's come this far,so he can't exactly back out now.

As he made himself look Cold in the eyes,he found himself unable to look away,the temperature of the room rising and making Paranoid flush with stress. He nodded his head,and he gulped at the wicked smile Cold sent him.

It was sickening,how Cold didn't move a muscle as he preened his wings again.

Paranoid was finished-all too soon-and he just stared nervously as Cold scooted out of the way for him.He stared at the empty spot for a second, before slowly moving to be in front of Cold.

He twisted his fingers around in his lap,his head ducked low as he waited for whatever Cold had planned.He tried to remain calm,to not think the worst of Cold in this moment.But after a few seconds of nothing but silence,Paranoid tensed up, attempting to turn his head to see what was wrong-when hands suddenly slammed down onto his shoulders.

He screeched in shock,and would've jumped ten feet into the air,if not for the tight grip Cold had on him,claws clutching his shoulders and keeping him on the bed.Paranoid held a hand to his chest, attempting to quell the shaking of his body,when he heard Cold chuckle in soft amusement.

His hand curled into a fist against his pounding heart,but before he could yell at the other-Cold squeezed his shoulders,then began to gently massage them.Paranoid wriggled on the spot,not used to the weird feeling,until he eventually felt the tension in his body leave against his will,and he shut his eyes tight,hating how his body relaxed against the ministrations,until his shoulders slumped and his wings weren't pinned to his back anymore.

He focused on getting his heartbeat under control, as Cold slowly slid his hands from his shoulders down to his back,dragging his claws lightly as he went.Paranoid ignored the shiver that went through him,or how he could still feel the path Cold had made,even when he stopped halfway.

Cold just splayed his palms against his back,and Paranoid sighed,blindly waving an arm back at him. "Are you going to preen me or not?"he asked Impatiently,and Cold just hummed in response, then lightly grazed a finger across his right wing and said,"I've just never seen them like this before. It's a funny sight."Cold finally started to preen his right wing,but it felt like he was barely making an effort to do it right,and then he asked,"Do you think you'll be able to fly?"

Paranoid felt apprehension at the thought of flying, so simply said,"I don't think I'd be very good at it." Cold hummed again,twisting a feather between his thumb and index finger,and said,"That would be an interesting sight to see."

It was at this moment,that Paranoid realised that he hadn't felt that itching sensation once since Cold started preening him,but of course-as soon as he realised that,was when Cold decided to strike.

There was a few seconds of peaceful silence,and Paranoid actually felt like everything was going to be okay,when Cold suddenly leaned forward, pressing his chest against his back,fingers still buried in his feathers-and then Cold rested his chin on top of Paranoid's shoulder,sighing in relief as if this was what he wanted all along.

Paranoid could do nothing but shake in that moment,frozen as the itching came back full force, crawling all over his body like bugs trying to rip his skin open and escape.All he could do to keep it together was stare into the distance,and mutter his chant under his breath as Cold pressed up behind him.

He could feel Cold's icy breath hitting his flushed skin as he asked,"Why were you hiding in your room for days?What scared you that badly?"

Paranoid finally got his nerves under control just enough to hiss out,"You were the reason.You kept staring at me."

"Why was that so bad?"Cold asked,stroking his hand over his wing almost lovingly.Paranoid hated how nice it felt.

He gripped the sheets next to him and quietly snapped,"You know I hate staring.You know I hate the eyes."Cold turned his head slightly to stick his face into Paranoid's neck,and that was also when he fixed a particular feather that had been irritating him,back into place.The whole thing made Paranoid release a breath,but he wasn't sure if it was good or bad.

Cold hummed,and it vibrated through his skin so much that it almost got rid of the the itching.He didn't even notice that he leaned his head back to give Cold more room.

"I apologize,"Cold murmured against his skin,"for frightening you.That wasn't my intention."

"What was,then?"Paranoid whispered,his mind whirling with too many feelings and sensation to string a single coherent sentence together.

Cold leaned back just enough for Paranoid to hear the hidden sincerity in his voice."I just find you interesting.You jump and tremble and fear-but you also snap and stress and protect.You let your mind cage you with your delusions,but you still know exactly what to do to keep the others safe.I remember enjoying our conversation about pain.I kept feeling a need to talk to you again,but I was trying to figure out why."

"Then you locked yourself in your room and everything got so dull again.Nobody to scare and nobody to challenge what I know.I needed a reason to see you again,to understand what I'm feeling."

Paranoid wanted to understand too.His heart was pounding,his feathers were puffing up,and his skin was on fire.All of these were usually signs that something terrible was about to happen-but the itching was gone.Cold was staring at him and the itching was gone.In fact,everything actually felt-quite nice.

The weight of Cold against his back,the sound of his voice so close to him,the gentle grazing of fingers in his wings-it made his mind melt,and it finally shut the whispers up.

Paranoid has never felt relaxed before,but Cold was apparently changing that.

His voice came out breathless and strained as he tried to explain,"I-I just-I thought you would-were going to do something b-bad to me."

"Oh,is that what you believed?"Cold said,not sounding offended in the slightest.In fact,he actually sounded amused.Paranoid could barely focus on his voice as he felt Cold drag a hand over his back.Cold tilted his head an inch closer to whisper,"Do you want to know what I believe?" Paranoid bit his lip,but nodded.

"I believe you think far too much for my liking."

Then Cold dragged his claws down to the base of his back,right in-between his wings,where all of them were extremely sensitive.

Paranoid couldn't stop himself as he arched his back and let a soft moan out,but even though his face was on fire,his head was swimming with pleasure-no worries,no fears,nothing but sweet, sugary pleasure.

He could feel how ragged Cold's breath had gotten, and his voice lowered to a husky tone as he whispered,"I think I like that reaction."

The next thing either of them knew-they were twisting around to meet each other,and crashing their lips against one another.

Everything was hot and desperate,and Paranoid threw his arms around Cold's neck,while Cold kept one hand in his feathers,and the other bringing Paranoid closer,and the feeling of Cold's icy breath in between their lips only urged Paranoid to keep kissing,keep chasing this pleasure,keep chasing Cold-

But then they suddenly parted,and Paranoid panted as Cold gave him a soft and wary look,his voice uncertain and almost scared as he whispered,"Do I still frighten you?"

Paranoid stared at him,really stared at Cold-at the clouded look in his eyes,at how carefully he was holding Paranoid-and no itching feeling overcame him in that moment.

So Paranoid cupped Cold's face and brought him into another searing kiss.

[mothdapple]

Tigerstar's Legacy in RiverClan

The aftermath of Tigerstar and TigerClan is one of the topics I enjoy exploring the most in Warriors, especially TigerClan's impact on RiverClan. That is certainly reflected in my TNP rewrite Shaken Roots (and everything I say here can be considered "canon" to my rewrite,) but I also find this an interesting and relevant lens to examine the canon books through as well. And that is sort of my goal with Shaken Roots anyway— I'm not reinventing the wheel with my rewrite, just expanding upon the design canon has provided.

Now on to TigerClan. TigerClan feels like a quite momentous era— Tigerstar and Leopardstar unite ShadowClan and RiverClan into one, and four RiverClan cats are imprisoned for being half-Clan, one being their loyal deputy, who is then executed.

It should be a watershed moment in RiverClan's, and Leopardstar's, history. But one of the things that makes this so fascinating to me is that it's not. This is my main thesis on the post-TigerClan era— RiverClan as whole is still dealing with the same attitude/ideological problems that led to TigerClan in the first place. They have not truly changed.

I see TigerClan as something which RiverClan tries not to think or talk about in general. However you slice it, it's a shamefully moment for RiverClan, and RiverClan, like all the Clans, are proud. They would prefer to sweep it under the rug. But if pressed to discuss TigerClan, RiverClan cats will explain it using the framework of ShadowClan— and Tigerstar specifically— conquering and occupying RiverClan, and imprisoning their Clanmates. This framework firmly shifts the blame away from any RiverClan cat and onto Tigerstar— a palatable scapegoat given all his crimes.

That's not to say, of course, that Tigerstar is blameless for TigerClan (quite the opposite,) but regardless, this framework downplays the actions of other culpable cats. Still though, it's understandable why some cats, especially cats who were very young during the TigerClan time, might see it this way.

Take someone like Dawnflower for example. She is the same age as Stormfur and Feathertail, and they grew up alongside her, all cared for by Mosspelt. Like them, Dawnpaw was a newly made apprentice during TigerClan. When Stormpaw and Featherpaw were imprisoned, she likely understood less than the warriors about what was going on. All that she knew was that her two best friends— the cats who were fostered with her— were taken away from her. Even if she protested, as a powerless young apprentice, there was nothing she could do about it. She’d likely just have been told that she would understand why this was happening when she was older.

Knowing her experiences with TigerClan, it makes sense that when Dawnflower grew up, she would almost solely blame Tigerstar for what happened. So when Hawkfrost's and Mothwing's true parentage was revealed to the Clans, Dawnflower had a knee-jerk reaction to be wary of them. Why wouldn't she be worried when she knew how much devastation their father had caused to the half-Clan apprentices she once was so close to— especially when Dawnflower herself had just recently given birth (to kits with an unknown-to-the-Clan father no less) and has their safety to worry about now too?

But by assuming that Mothwing and Hawkfrost were dangerous just because Tigerstar was their father, Dawnflower is falling into the same prejudiced mindset that Tigerstar had used himself to justify imprisoning the half-Clan cats. Fundamentally, her reasoning is just as prejudiced even though Dawnflower sees herself as being on the "correct" (pro-halfClan/Mistyfoot/Stormfur etc) side.

Let's take a different RiverClan cat example now to explore the other side of the Clan— the more conservative cats who are more distrustful of half-Clan cats.

Heavystep by all accounts was one of TigerClan's supporters within RiverClan— he is one of the few RiverClan cats noted to be sitting by the Bonehill during Stonefur's execution, while the majority of RiverClan is absent. Heavystep also happened to be Dawnpaw's mentor. (I imagine he was probably the one telling Dawnpaw that she is just too young to understand why this is happening when Stormpaw and Featherpaw were imprisoned.) I see Heavystep as someone who didn't like Tigerstar taking power in RiverClan, but ideologically, he agreed with him. Heavystep of course wouldn’t have killed Mistyfoot, Stonefur, Stormpaw, or Featherpaw himself without reason, but he was content to be complacent in their imprisonment. Even after TigerClan, Heavystep probably still thinks that Tigerstar had some decent ideas, but he just went too far with them. And there are certainly several other RiverClan cats who think similarly (Blackclaw for an easy example.)

In Shaken Roots: Dawn, when Hawkfrost's and Mothwing's father is revealed to be Tigerstar, I have Heavystep argue against them staying in RiverClan. But Heavystep’s reaction to Hawkfrost and Mothwing doesn’t come from a rejection of Tigerstar’s ideals, but rather a continuation of them— he thinks that they are untrustworthy half-Clanners, and while their father had some good ideas he “usurped” power from Leopardstar and unfairly “conquered” RiverClan, so Hawkfrost and Mothwing also shouldn’t be trusted.

Finally we have Leopardstar, who sits in a bit of a unique place at the heart of this. She clearly carries a lot of guilt for her actions during TigerClan, and in her mind, I think she genuinely wants to change for the better (and believes she has.)

But she didn't actually put in the work, and like the rest of her Clan, she never truly learned her lesson. We can see this in that fact that every choice Leopardstar makes after TigerClan that seems accepting towards half-Clan cats is only performative. Firstly, there is her naming Mistyfoot her deputy, which seems like a responsible move on her part, until after Mistyfoot goes missing, Leopardstar's first response is to appoint Hawkfrost (who shares Tigerstar's/Leopardstar's values) in Mistyfoot's place.

Leopardstar's acceptance of Feathertail and Stormfur in RiverClan is also obviously surface-level— as soon as they go missing in Midnight, Leopardstar's assumption is that they were disloyal and left for ThunderClan. In Shaken Roots, I expand on both of these examples to fully highlight Leopardstar's hypocrisy, but the foundation is present in canon.

Then there is Leopardstar's reaction to the reveal about Hawkfrost's and Mothwing's father. Interestingly, she is one of their few defenders within RiverClan. Is this proof then that she has changed, learned to accept half-Clan cats and not judge them for the actions of their parents? No. Leopardstar clearly sees Hawkfrost and Mothwing as exceptions, not the rule. 

I think Leopardstar has a lot riding on Hawkfrost and Mothwing. Knowing that Tigerstar is their father, I think she has wrapped the two of them up in her own personal path to “redemption.” Leopardstar sees herself undoing some of the harm she caused with TigerClan by training Tigerstar’s kits to be powerful, loyal members of RiverClan— maybe even her successor in regard to Hawkfrost. There is also a lot of pride for Leopardstar tied up in the two of them. Hawkfrost was her former apprentice, and Mothwing was trained by her deputy and her medicine cat/father. Them being successful cases reflects well on her.

But Leopardstar's behavior towards other cats shows, fundamentally, that her views on half-Clan cats being untrustworthy are unchanged. Hawkfrost, Mothwing, (and to some extent, Mistyfoot) are just examples that Leopardstar can put on a pedestal and use as a shield to say “See??? I’m different now.”

This is why RiverClan is still as vulnerable to Hawkfrost's influence in TNP as they were to Tigerstar's in TPB. At a fundamental level, their ideology carries the same prejudice, so it's easy for Hawkfrost to sway them. In Shaken Roots some cats like Heavystep will even come to be one of Hawkfrost's staunchest supporters, since all Hawkfrost has to do is gain his trust— Heavystep already agrees with his ideals.

TL;DR TigerClan didn't end in RiverClan with Tigerstar. Tigerstar just provided an outlet for the prejudiced beliefs that festered in RiverClan long before him, and continued for long after him.

[acoldghostlypresence]

STEX world building headcanons

Just some shit I've been thinking about, not fully cooked but eh.

The Apollo Victoria was built in the middle of nowhere at the top of a mountain originally to profit off mining operations in the area, when those mineral and coal deposits mostly dried up their financial situation became increasingly precarious. They were only able to stay open as long as they did coasting off the tourism, fame, and funding that came with housing the American National in Poppa and thus regularly hosting the Championships when he won. When Poppa retired it became essential that they find a new champion and fast since their old freight lines couldn't support the station alone, its why Greaseball became the defacto leader of the rolling stock once he won despite how mean he can be (it might also be a contributing factor in why he felt he had to cheat.)

In recent years the station has been looking into applying to become a heritage site due to their importance in train racing history and their preservation of old steamers that most other stations have long since abandoned.

Electra's (as of yet unnamed) station is positioned in the valley just below the Apollo Victoria they've just never needed to actually go up that way until the events of the show. I imagine afterwards they go out of their way to take jobs that let them visit as often as possible to rub how well they're doing in Greaseball's face... no other reason.

All the trains have a built in radio/walkie talkie system but they can only use it to talk to other people within their station, so all the Apollo Victoria trains can talk to each other and all the Components can talk to each other but neither group can talk across those lines (the nationals, being all from different stations, can't talk to anyone. Maybe they have a nationals only group chat set up for races though.) What makes Caboose's radio special is its lack of these limitations, he can talk to whoever whenever so long as they're in range and on a frequency he can access. Because of this he gets all the gossip from all the stations in the area, he's always up to date on what's happening sometimes before even Control is. CB has also illegally modified his radio because of course he has.

I've been imaging there being far more unnamed and unimportant freight and coaches off screen we don't see in the show working at the station.

Regarding Poppa/Momma's many kids, Rusty is their biological (as biologically related as a train can be) grandson while the freight are all foster kids they took in for one reason or another. CB aged out and now lives in his own shed but still visits for tea once a week.

Boxcars come in large batches and them all having identical names is not at all uncommon. The fact that there are only three Rockies at the station is abnormal and its because the rest of their siblings work for different companies far away. They regularly get post cards, letters, and gifts from their siblings and their shed is covered in them.

The fact that the Components belong too and only work with Electra isn't that weird, in fact it's pretty common for trucks and engines to pledge themselves to each other and become exclusive in this way, usually this is done as an emotional commitment between family or lovers. Its alot more high stakes for the trucks involved than the engine though, if something happens to an engine's trucks that's bad obviously but they'll survive, trucks on the other hand generally can't get far physically without an engine to push them so if anything happens to their engine they can become stranded. It's a problem all trucks face but it gets worse when you commit to one person and can no longer ask other engines to pick you up, something I'm sure Dinah was aware of when Greaseball uncoupled her and that Pearl at least briefly considered when trying to make up her heart between Electra and Rusty.

Pearl is trans. You already know this.

[wenevergotusedtoegypt]

Even in communities that aren't in dense urban areas, if someone's priority is to be shomer Shabbos, they're still going to live within a relatively reasonable distance of the shul they attend. I think that's sometimes hard to fathom for someone who hasn't lived it. But just like you might choose a very specific area to live for a good school district, or a doable commute to your job, or any other number of reasons, people who are committed to being shomer Shabbos will find housing within a walkable distance to shul (of course, in a place like NY or Chicago the shul might be across the street, whereas in more suburban communities it might be more like 20 minutes, but people make it work).

Kosher food (specifically meat and dairy) can be more expensive in smaller communities...but there are often other costs that are either less, or you pay a similar amount but get a lot more bang for your buck. The person paying rent on a teeny apartment in Brooklyn may have access to moderately cheaper meat, but that doesn't necessarily balance out their total expenses and quality of life compared to the person elsewhere paying a bit more for meat but less in rent/mortgage for a larger space. In some communities, depending on location, people may either bring in kosher meat/dairy in bulk from a larger nearby community that's within driving distance, or have a community-wide co-op at regular intervals that helps defray prices. You can also lower food costs by eating meat less often. If you don't keep cholov yisroel and pas yisroel, the vast majority of foods other than meat and cheese can be obtained at a regular grocery store without a kosher section if you live in the U.S. and are not any more expensive than if you didn't keep kosher. Davening with a minyan around your work schedule can be tricky if you live in a place that has limited minyan times due to a smaller number of people who need to daven, and the answer to that is that you do your best given your circumstances. Even someone who lives in a place like NY or Chicago may happen to have a work schedule that requires him to leave for work before the earliest Shacharis minyan, or may work in a location that isn't near a shul (despite living near a shul) and not be able to get to one for mincha when sunset is earlier. If you cannot daven with a minyan then you daven on your own. If you cannot take the time to daven the full service, then you daven what you can (there are halachos about what to prioritize in such circumstances). If you cannot daven mincha because you're at work the entire period in which it can be davened and aren't able to take a break for it, then you daven Shacharis and Maariv. It's not all or nothing.

This question goes out to all the frum/orthodox homies who don't live in dense, walkable cities like New York or Chicago:

How do y'all stay observant in places where walking to shul on shabbos is a whole ordeal, kosher food is prohibitively expensive, and working a job makes davening (especially davening with a minyan) difficult?

I ask because I'd like to be more observant, but as a working-class yid who doesn't live on the east coast, it feels like I need to sacrifice my religious practice for basic survival. I was wondering how y'all are able to do it.

[apollos-boyfriend]

Minato is I think the one you will find the hardest to pin down a personality cause not even the movies, theatre or side games can agree with a personality on him!

And it's incredibly weird when comparing to his female counterpart who is written with a more defined personality and in Q2 basically the protag of that game next to joker

some games he's just written with like little dialogue (Q2), some theatre he is incredibly moody or in the movies case written to be a complete asshole so I say Good luck!

[sallymew4]

kids when they hear that their dad is back in town VS. kids when theyre hanging out with a conman that accidentally stole their wallet once

im not even joking btw

bonus heres me being crazy about them in dms ^^^

[carlyraejepsans]

for real WHERE does the idea that [utdr humans] are nongendered so that "you can project on them" come from. their literal character arcs are about NOT being a blank slate to be filled in by the audience

i think i understand the assumption on some level for undertale, because there is a very intentional effort to make you identify with the "player character" in order to make your choices feel like your own (the beating heart of undertale's metanarrative lies in giving you an alternative path to violence against its enemies after all, and whether you're still willing to persue it for your own selfish reasons. YOUR agency is crucial).

of course, the cardinal plot twist of the main ending sweeps the rug from under your feet on that in every way, and frisk's individuality becomes, in turn, a tool to further UT's OTHER main theme: completionism as a form of diegetic violence within the story. replaying the game would steal frisk's life and happy ending from them for our own perverse sentimentality, emotionally forcing our hand away from the reset button.

i think their neutrality absolutely aids in that immersion. but also, there's this weird attitude by (mostly) cis fans where it being functional within the story makes it... somehow "editable" and "up to the player" as well? which is gross and shows their ass on how they approach gender neutrality in general lol.

but also like. there's plenty of neutral, non PCharacters in undertale and deltarune. even when undertale was just an earthbound fangame and the player immersion metanarrative was completely absent, toby still described frisk as a "young, androgynous person". sometimes characters are just neutral by design. it's not that hard to understand lol.

anyone who makes this argument for kris deltarune is braindead. nothing else to say about it.

[kenzan-kiwami]

everybody claims to be a kashiwagi enjoyer but the only time anyone ever talks about him is to say he's the hottest piece of meat in the series

[fisherrprince]

*Shakes you like a marionette* THANK YOU! You get it! I've been trying to tell people for -so long- that ARR (and post) is purposely taking its time to build up the characters, the story, the -entire world- that you're going to spend the next who-knows-how-many-hours/days/weeks/months exploring and adventuring and experiencing and -feeling- through! It might not be "the best paced", but god damn it if I still don't love all the random asides and non-plot moments that just -shapes everything-

(BANGS GAVEL)

LET THEM COOK!!!

[ghoulishtomato]

Hilarious how lots of conservatives think resistance against change is actual resistance and not just them clinging to the status quo.

[sammygender]

the thing thats always missing in conversations about gender in general is the fact that 'cis', as an identity, is not a innate Thing Some People Are, but rather a state of acceptance society grooms us into from birth

[imaginethezeldaverse]

...i dont usually go for revali but they way you write him is. Really, Really Good. god??? god,. hate him (affectionate)

He’s pompous but in the absolute best way. My trope for him in my head is an enemies to lovers kind of deal. The stolen glances, the heated arguments, the even more heated se- ahem. You get the deal. 🥴